The Valley of the Shadow

  Cancer. Not a diagnosis anyone wants to hear, especially when you're young and have so much life ahead of you. Welcome to my newest training experience.

About a month ago, I was diagnosed with invasive ductal carcinoma -- breast cancer. As the days went by, and the doctors ordered more tests, we discovered that the cancer had already spread to my lungs and several bones. My pain steadily increased and I developed the cancer cough. I lost count of the times I wished for a mask that said "I don't have Covid -- I have cancer!" 

We're just beginning this journey through cancer, but as we were inundated with calls, texts, and emails from friends and loved ones wanting to share their love and support, Daniel and I realized we were going to need a way to keep everyone updated without wearing ourselves out. Perfect time to dust off this blog!

So the most recent update is that God is still faithful! The oncologist is taking my case to a panel of other oncologists and doctors of various departments (someone called it the Tumor Board) this week to get their input. We're waiting for one or two more tests, and we're still praying about what treatment plan God wants us to pursue. After all, each person and situation are unique, and who better to know the best treatment plan than the One who created me in the first place? 

Though we're just beginning this journey with cancer, God has been helping us to look to Him and to His promises. Whatever the outcome ends up being, I know Who holds tomorrow, and I know Who holds my hand. My mom's pastor wrote and recorded this song for us: "Jesus, My Life Is in Your Hands." Its message is beautiful and has already been such an encouragement to us. May you be blessed as well!

"The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. ... Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; For You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me" Psalm 23: 1, 4.

Until next time, stay close to the Shepherd!

Hello Again!

It's been a long while since I posted. Sometimes I wonder why I stopped blogging. Then I think, "Where do I start?" and I remember why I haven't done so.

Life has happened.

There have been tough times, like helping get a new school up and running. There have been inspiring times, like GYC. There have been joyful times, like courtship and engagement (yes you read that right!). There have been heart-rending times, like losing my father last month. I have lived much, and learned even more.

Because I have learned that no matter the state of the sea, my Jesus is still able to walk on the water.

The Voice of the Lifegiver

John 11 tells a story…

Jesus gets a message from Mary and Martha, telling Him that Lazarus, “he whom Thou lovest,” is sick. Jesus waits a few days, and then tells His disciples He’s going to Judea again because Lazarus is dead and He (Jesus) is going to bring Lazarus back to life. At this point, the disciples remind the Savior that the Jews want to kill Him and that going into Judea isn’t worth it.

They tried to prevent Jesus from going near one who was dead because it wasn’t worth it.

Jesus goes, despite His disciples’ opinions on the matter. He meets the sisters, Martha and Mary, and eventually asks where Lazarus is buried. The women take the Lord of life to the grave of their brother. 

They brought Jesus close to the dead brother.

Jesus asks the people there to remove the stone. Martha protests. “He’s been dead for four days. He stinks! What’s the point?”

Her faith wasn’t strong enough to grasp the idea that the Lifegiver was about to work a miracle.

Jesus calls Lazarus to come out of the tomb. And Lazarus obeys, waddling out of the tomb as best he could, wrapped head to foot as he was with strips of cloth and having his face covered with a napkin.

Jesus spoke life to a dead man. And that newly-awakened man crawled, waddled, or scooted with all his blinded strength to get closer to Jesus.

Jesus tells the people who are standing there gawking at the sight to help the poor man by unbinding the grave cloths and uncovering his face.

-------

I see myself throughout this story. Jesus tells me to take Him close to a heart that is dead in sin. I tell Him that not only is it not worth it (“He/She will never listen anyway”), it’s dangerous. I am a fearful, doubting disciple.

Finally I choose to be like the sisters and take Jesus close to someone who is dead inside. But I still doubt the power of the Lifegiver. And then, when Jesus speaks life into a dead heart, when that brother or that sister comes groping out of their tomb, I gawk. I shouldn’t! I should be waiting, expectant, for the miracle to occur, because the One who speaks life is nearby. I should be ready to immediately help the newly-awakened brother by breaking the cords that bind his hands and his feet so he can move and by taking away the napkin from his face so he can see clearly.

This, friends, is evangelism.

Bring the Lifegiver close to a heart dead in sin, so He can speak life to it. Stand on the alert, ready at the first whisper of sound emanating from the tomb that would indicate the first motions Christ-ward, to help the brother or sister be free from whatever Satan has bound them with. And then move to the next tomb and do it again. Because too many have never heard the voice of the Lifegiver.

Do the Math

"To any whom the Hand Divine is beckoning: count the cost, for He tells us to, but take your slate to the foot of the Cross and add up the figures there." -- Amy Carmichael

The Exchange

"Christ takes His children from that which holds their attention, that they may behold His glory" - Our High Calling, pg. 315. What a glorious exchange!

"Oh, Lord Jesus, show me more that I may give up, that I may have more of Thee!" - Springs in the Valley, pg. 303.

Sing!

     "There is a beautiful story which tells of song birds being brought over the sea. There were 36,000, mostly canaries. The sea was very calm when the ship first sailed, and the little birds were silent. They kept their little heads under their wings and not a note was heard. But the third day out at sea, the ship struck a furious gale. The passengers were terrified. Children wept. Then a strange thing happened. As the tempest reached its height, the birds began to sing, first one, then another, until the 36,000 were singing as if their little throats would burst.

     "When the storm rises in its fury, do we then begin to sing? Should not our song break forth in tenfold joy when the tempest begins?

'I can hear the songbirds singing their refrain

It is morning in my heart;

And I know that life for me begins again,

It is morning in my heart.

It is morning, it is morning in my heart,

Jesus made the gloomy shadows all depart;

Songs of gladness now I sing,

For since Jesus is my King,

It is morning, it is morning in my heart.'

     "'Break forth into singing' Isaiah 49:13."

(Taken from Springs in the Valley, pg. 302-303)

Never underestimate the power of song!

A Day of Miracles

Today is Sabbath, the most precious day of the week. And today has been a precious day, indeed! A day of miracles. Let me fill you in...

During the praise and prayer time at church, I watched from my vantage point at the piano as Gideon* raised his hand timidly. Gideon is one of the academy boys I have a special burden for. I'm not sure what has happened, but for some reason he's extremely quiet, shy, and depressed. Today was a milestone for him. When his hand was acknowledged, he proceeded to tell us how the Lord had blessed the evangelistic series that had just finished at his parents' church. I was thrilled! Then for Sabbath School, Gideon had the opening prayer, as well as sang a duet with his roommate for special music!

Then we divided for classes. I made my way to one of the academy classes. Normally the academy seniors teach Sabbath School. This weekend, however, the seniors are on "Senior Survival" and no one was prepared to teach the lesson. (I hadn't even looked at it yet!) Someone asked me if I was prepared to teach the lesson and I said no, but we could all wing it together. 

Opening the lesson study, I found that this week's lesson had been on the purification sacrifice and the memory verse was 1 Pet. 1:18, 19. "Forasmuch as ye know that ye were not redeemed with corruptible things, as silver and gold, ... but with the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and without spot." I hesitated for a moment and sensed that lovely little Voice whisper, "Bekah, I'm with you. I'll give you words to speak. Just speak them boldly!" I trembled inside, knowing that I was dealing with a precious subject, a holy topic, and that some of the most flippant students in the school were sitting in my class. Paul* and George* were watching me intently. Very reserved with most of the staff here, Paul is another student that I am intentionally trying to reach. George is often irreverent and rebellious, and had almost never had anything nice to say to me, even when I paid him a complement. With a prayer in my heart, I started in.

We talked of redemption, of what it meant in general, and of what it meant specifically. Paul and George listened closely, hanging on everything I said, even making occasional remarks or questions. At one point, I felt a nudge to do something I had never done with these students. Going back to 1 Pet. 1:18, 19, I began to paraphrase the verses. "Paul was not redeemed with anything this world can offer, but instead with the priceless life of the Son of God! George was not redeemed with... Gideon was not redeemed with... Rebekah was not redeemed with..." Silence filled the room. Paul looked at his feet with a solemn expression. George shifted uncomfortably, then glanced up at me before staring at his hands. Did I glimpse tears in George's eyes? Suddenly it felt like my heart was about to burst with love for these youth. I spoke with a passion and an intensity that surprised me. And God touched hearts. No amazing commitments. No sudden confessions or consecrations. Just a solemn realization of the price paid for each one of them. A personal epiphany of their value to God - and how much we should value Him. 

But the miracles weren't over yet. Class finished and most of the students filed outside. A few boys stayed to fold the chairs and put them away. I was putting my Bible and quarterly away when a voice interrupted me. "Um, Miss Rebekah?" I looked up to see George standing over me, his hand reaching out to shake mine. "You did a really good job, especially since you had to wing it. Thanks. I - I really appreciated what you said." A mixture of shock, incredulity, and joy filled me as I shook hands with this boy and thanked him for his input and help with the discussion. With a smile, he left. 

I walked into the gorgeous fall sunshine, but hardly felt it. I barely noticed the swirling leaves, the caressing wind, the sweet bird songs. My heart was soaring! I was reminded of what my friend Beth used to tell me so often: "Our Jesus has never lost a battle yet!" 

*Not their real names.