Cysts Happen!

All roads lead to Rome. Since being diagnosed with a large Tarlov cyst in the sacrum, I've discovered that many of my longstanding health issues actually are due to this one, stinking, aggressive cyst! Funny how something within my very own body could secretly erode away bone and stretch out its tentacles to press on one key nerve after another.

This has gone on for years and years. Sometimes I've gone to doctors about symptoms, but since they couldn't really see a REASON for a problem, they've responded with suggestions on how to manage one symptom or another. I have struggled with explaining my aches and pains and woes. People who know me well have often wondered why I get battered with one health problem after another. I've sometimes wondered if I'm a "Creative Hypochondriac!

But now, after many, many years of troubles, it's as if the cyst lifted its head to wink and say, "See all the havoc I've caused and you never knew I was even here!"

Sadly, the possibilities of getting some relief are limited. And, just to get an appointment for an assessment takes two months.

Now that the cyst has "come out," I am battling with symptoms which have ganged up and formed an effective offensive line. Though my doctors are on board and working with us, I'm finding it very difficult to take medicine that will take the edge off the pain but not leave me groggy and nauseated. So far, we haven't figured that out. So, if I end this blog entry with a bunch of jibberish, you can know that the pain medicine is turning my brain into mush.

You probably wouldn't want to know if I offered to tell you, all the ways the cyst is making its presence known. jklsjc,wuoivjks. djlsj.

I think that meamans I needs a arest. Pray for me as you recall the phrase, :Cysta Happen@"

When the Wind is Blowing Hard...

"If we want to know whether a building will stand strong or not, we look at it when the wind is blowing hard." - Jonathan Edwards

Missionaries should write about good spiritual stuff... opening new ministries, sending out missionaries, investing in national leaders, caring for missionaries on the field, seeing people saved and making disciples.

But, what happens when the wind blows hard? Difficulties aren't always glamorous. Sometimes they are very personal. Sometimes they are minimal. Sometimes they are major. Sometimes they are the kind of things that words can't wrap themselves around. They don't make good "knee-mails." Then, what do we do?

Well, seriously, folks... that's the dilemma I face today. For me... for us... there are a few twists and turns in our journey that feel dramatic, and not in the fun sense of the word. As many of you know, I've wrestled with several health issues for a long time. Most recently I've had hip pain and other "system failures," which even required surgery... twice in the past six months. The surgeries were unsuccessful, and now we think we know why. When the "bursitis" in my hip didn't seem to improve and the symptoms spread to my other hip as well as my back and legs, my doctor here in Costa Rica ordered an MRI. It showed that I have a very unusual type of large cyst buried in my sacrum, possibly putting pressure on several key nerves.

We are happy that we might know the cause of many of my discomforts and dysfunctions, but it's also "unnerving" (forgive the pun!) that there are no easy answers. These have been times of prayer peppered with seasons of struggles to pray at all; sensing a closeness to God alternating with moments of crying out, "Where are You, God?" Both of us have had moments of sadness washing over us. But, we are also determined to trust God and step forward hand in hand through whatever those next steps will be.

We are so honored that many of you pray for us each day and are a vital part of all that God has been doing in us and through this ministry. We are still very involved in ministry, but at the same time going through a number of tests and seeing specialists while fighting pain and other very real health struggles. Now, we ask you to keep walking beside us during this difficult phase.

Pray for wisdom for the doctors and for us as we continue to learn and investigate in order to find the best help available. Pray for me as I get tired of pain, sleeping poorly, and experiencing other difficulties. Pray for the two of us as we walk through new territory together and as we lean harder than ever on HIM.

I'll close with a quote from a sermon that has recently impacted both of us, preached by AJ Gossip about 80 years ago.* In the sermon he makes reference to the character "Hopeful" from Pilgrim's Progress and also to Paul's penned words, "What can separate us from His love?" Not death, he says right away, pushing aside the most obvious of all impossibilities.

"For, standing in the roaring of the Jordan, cold to the heart with its dreadful chill, and very conscious of the terror of its rushing, I too, like Hopeful, can call back to you who one day in your turn will have to cross it, 'Be of good cheer, my brother, for I feel the bottom, and it is sound.'"

Don't worry... this new diagnosis is not life-threatening. But, it does feel a bit like we are standing in the cold rushing water, our toes scrabbling for the bottom, trusting it is sound.

*This is the sermon Gossip preached the week his wife died unexpectedly.

My One Track Mind

The other night before we went to bed, I played for Woody a new song I really like. It's called, "I Just Can't Sleep" by the Tejas Brothers. Those who know me well know that I constantly have music running through my mind, and usually the songs are pretty "mindless." All night long (and most of the next day) that song ran over and over in my brain. "I just can't sleep with you runnin' 'round in my head."

The next morning I listened twice to a song that merits runnin' 'round in my head. It's a song by Jesus Adrian Romero called "Te Veo" or "I See You." Here's my rough translation of a few of the lines.

I see you in the moments of pain
I see you in the night
When the sun goes out in life
I see you in the light.
I see you in a smile and in love
I see you in my dreams.
I see your hand guiding me
You're always there.

I sense you in a hug, an expression.
You are so faithful and there's no reason
To doubt your heart.
I sense your hand on me.
I can feel your love and hear
Your words and your voice.
You are always faithful.

I won't translate the rest because it is so much more beautiful in Spanish. But, as I listened to the song I happened to be dressing Celeste's paw. She gets scrapes which seem to never heal. I've been working (with the help of Kari and Woody) to get her paw to heal - bathing, applying ointment, and wrapping it with Ace wrap. She often manages to get the wrap off and lick it raw again. During the night I don't know how many times she wakes me up with her busy, gigantic tongue. (Urban myth: dog saliva heals wounds more quickly.) She really dislikes having her paw dressed, but she loves my affection. So, I try to work more on showing affection than on treating her paw, gradually getting the wound care done almost without her realizing it. She just loves the feel of my hand on her.

So, as I listened to the above song, caring for my dog in her "woundedness" with my faithful hand and her trust in me and my heart's intentions, I thought of our God. I don't care for Him dressing my chronic wounds either. But, if it's His faithful hand, I won't complain.

By the way, I'm determined to listen to "Te Veo" over and over and see if I can change my one-track mind... and maybe sleep better tonight as well! ("I Just Can't Sleep" isn't exactly a lullaby!)

Doe the Nexte Thynge

"Do you find... your soul is scorched, terribly aware of your inadequacies, fearful of what is to come? Since God is still in heaven and His steadfast Word declares His love for you, just carry on and do the next thing. Take the next step of obedience. Do you worry how your children will turn out, what the future will hold for your church, how the finances will look at the end of the month? Resist the allure of self pity, and just take the next step of obedience. We are typically given enough grace just for the next step. Fret not about what lies around the bend. Perform faithfully the next step, and we will make it home safely in the end." - RAY VAN NESTE

This poem is often quoted by Elisabeth Elliot, but today I dedicate it to my mom who often tells me, "Do the next thing."

From an old English parsonage down by the sea
There came in the twilight a message to me;
Its quaint Saxon legend, deeply engraven,
Hath, it seems to me, teaching from Heaven.
And on through the doors the quiet words ring
Like a low inspiration: “DOE THE NEXTE THYNGE.”

Many a questioning, many a fear,
Many a doubt, hath its quieting here.
Moment by moment, let down from Heaven,
Time, opportunity, and guidance are given.
Fear not tomorrows, child of the King,
Thrust them with Jesus, doe the nexte thynge.

Do it immediately, do it with prayer;
Do it reliantly, casting all care;
Do it with reverence, tracing His hand
Who placed it before thee with earnest command.
Stayed on Omnipotence, safe ‘neath His wing,
Leave all results, doe the nexte thynge

Looking for Jesus, ever serener,
Working or suffering, be thy demeanor;
In His dear presence, the rest of His calm,
The light of His countenance be thy psalm,
Strong in His faithfulness, praise and sing.
Then, as He beckons thee, doe the nexte thynge.

Another Angel! This One Named Rick Singleton

Written on May 16th...

There is more than one angel driving a rental car shuttle bus. (See previous blog entry!) Today's angel was named Rick.

After a 3 hour drive to the Dallas airport this morning, I was feeling a bit tired and discouraged. I had to drop Woody off at the airport with all our heavy bags. I, personally, had to take back the rental car, since it was rented in my name. As I walked slowly and painfully to the shuttle bus stop, the driver saw me approaching. He walked out to help me, looked at me, and said, "You are so beautiful!"

I know I looked at him a bit strangely, wondering if he was really talking to me and if that is what he really said! He looked straight in my eyes and said once more, "I just HAVE to tell you that you look so beautiful!"

He kindly helped me in to the bus after we exchanged a few words. After the drive to Terminal D in Dallas, he wanted to help me find my husband. We couldn't figure a way he could possibly help me at that point. He offered me his cell phone to connect with Woody, but, sadly, I hadn't brought Woody's phone number along with me. Rick was sincerely apologetic, not wanting to leave me alone. I told him, "Don't worry. You've brought me joy this morning."

He said, "Oh, ma'am! I am SO glad, because I ask the good Lord each morning to allow me to be His light to someone in my day, and I knew He wanted me to bless you."

I asked him his name. "Rick Singleton, ma'am." When he, in turn, asked my name, he sighed with pleasure. "Susan! That is like a name from heaven!"

Once again, it was obvious he wasn't looking for a tip. He was just being God's special envoy for the day.

An Angel Named Jeff Andy

Written on May 12th...

Yesterday I ran into at least four angels. One was named Jeff Andy.

Isn’t that an interesting name for an angel?

As I stepped on the shuttle bus to go rent a car at the Dallas airport, the driver commented to me, “I’m a spiritual man.”

I was the first one on the bus, but as we made that short trip, Jeff Andy and I made friends and discovered that we were in the same spiritual family. The whole drive, even as the bus filled, the conversation everyone overheard was centered on our love of God. When he let me off, he said, “I’m not supposed to do this, but I cannot let you haul that luggage in to the center. I’ll take it for you. AND, can I pray for you?”

He was not looking for a tip. He was looking above.

Celestial Easter Photo

Like Frogs to Dogs Blog

You’ve probably all heard of the poison dart frogs that are found in Costa Rica. They really are fascinating. We’ve seen many of them - both in the wild as well as in “frog gardens” found throughout the country. They are much smaller than you might imagine. Most of them are only about an inch long. They are very colorful. One, often called the “blue jean frog” has dark blue lower legs and a bright red upper body... almost like a tiny frog wearing a cute outfit of jeans and a teeshirt. They are not nearly as poisonous as you might imagine. Tour guides often pick them up and let tourists hold them. If you handle them too much, they can cause skin irritation. But, you’ll get nowhere near to dying!

We have another type of frog here that we see much more commonly. Unlike the bullfrogs I grew up around, they have a dull brown skin. Unlike other frogs I’ve known, these can grow to be the size of a Frisbee. We’ve seen them that big! Unlike poison dart frogs, these big, dull, slow frogs can be lethal. To dogs, at least. We’ve had at least one dog on campus meet its demise from these frogs.

Only recently did I learn another fascinating thing about these poisonous creatures. Before I tell you, let me introduce you to Beckham. Beckham is our neighbor’s dog, and I have to admit I don’t like him. He’s not friendly. He has nipped at me more than once and outright bit one young woman. Even after seeing me every day for two years, he still used to bark and growl and make threatening advances every time he saw me. Finally one day when he came at me, I grabbed his snout, held it firmly and told him, “Never, NEVER do that to me again!”

He tried the next day, and I repeated the same action. Now, if he barks at me, I only have to say, “Beckham!” And he knows who is boss.

So far Beckham has almost died twice from eating poisonous frogs. He’s had to spend nights on IV’s at the vet hospital. The second time he almost died, the vet explained that the frog acts as a hallucinogenic. Though a dog can die from the “drug,” once it’s survived the experience, it craves another high. It’s likely Beckham will one day day of a frog overdose. (I’m not sure I’ll grieve the loss.)

We are a bit like Beckham. I trust you are nicer than he. I’m sure I am! But, being the sinful human beings we are, we tend to run back to the same God-dishonoring behaviors that kill us. I know what a few of my “frogs” are. What are yours?

Palm Sunday '90's Rap

Here's a "rap song" I wrote when we were working with kids and youth in Louisiana. Can you believe it? ME?!? Writing a rap song?

Long ago took place such an awesome event,
It left an impression like a print in cement.
Jesus and His disciples walked with sights set
On the city of Jerusalem near Mt. Olivet.

Jesus called two disciples in Luke, it is told,
"God into the village and find me a colt!
There in the town, man, you'll find a colt tied
On which no one has sat or even gone for a ride.

"And if a dude tells you, 'Hey, let that colt be!'
Say, 'Don't have a cow! The Master sent me!'"

They went and untied it. (The owners chilled out.)
They said, "The Lord needs it," and they turned and headed out.

They piled up their jackets. The colt marched down the track,
And headed into town with the Lord on his back.
And as he was going, people threw on the roads,
All kinds of garments, from coats to Girbauds.

When I tell you what happened, don't think me a fool.
There were masses of people, it was totally cool!
The whole crowd of people began to praise God.
Everyone in the 'hood shout with voices so loud!

"We've seen the Messiah! This man is the King!
In the name of the Lord, His praises we sing!
Peace in the heavens and glory on earth!
He gives sight to the blind and talks of new birth!"

The Pharisee dudes felt they had to make a stand.
"Listen Jesus," they said, "This crowd's gettin' outta hand.
Tell your disciples to take a chill pill,
To pick up their jackets and head back up the hill.

He answered and said, "I tell you no doubt,
"If these become silent, the rocks will cry out!"

When Things Get Bad...

When things get bad, they might get worse!

That was the encouraging message I heard preached at our church last Sunday.

Look at the story of Jairus in Luke 8:40-56. Jairus came to Jesus on one of His busier days (we aren’t the only busy ones!), pleading, probably crying, humiliating himself - a prominent synagogue leader - in front of everyone. His only daughter was dying. His only hope was Jesus.

But, what happens at just that moment? Someone else barges in front of him! (Don’t you just hate it when that happens?!?) All attention turns to the woman with chronic bleeding who touched Jesus’ garment. Jairus’ situation looked bleak, but it was about to turn “bleaker.” Just then someone from Jairus’ household shows up to say, “Don’t bother the Master any longer. It’s too late. She’s dead.”

How can a heart that is at rock bottom manage to sink further? Well, Jairus’ did. That was it. All hope was gone.

But, Jesus overheard! He hadn’t forgotten the man’s pleas. He turned to Jairus with the words, “Don’t be afraid; just believe.”

Now, how in the world could Jairus take heart from those words of the Master? Yet, not only was Jairus called upon to do just that, but we, also, are called on to do the same! When our situation goes from bad to worse to even worse yet, He says to us, “I have not forgotten you. Step aside. I am big enough to handle this. Despair, disease, and death are all under My control. Don’t fear. Only believe.”

My goodness, but Jairus was called on to believe!! Believe when his daughter was already obviously dead? Believe when all his neighbors and family laughed at him? But, Jesus knew what He was doing. He had the impossible covered.

He has your impossible covered.

Holding the Captain's Hand

I confess. I recently held a man’s hand, and it wasn’t Woody’s.

Don’t worry. He knows about it. And he’s cool with it.

Here’s how it came about. As many of you know, we recently hosted an International Teams Latin America Regional Conference in Cartagena, Colombia. About half of the attendees opted for an afternoon snorkel trip in the Rosario Islands. Our group got a great deal on the outing because of connections through Jerry and Barb Manderfield, ITeams missionaries in Medellin. They are friends with a man who has served for years as a captain of a large ship. The captain arranged for a boat and crew with two powerful 200hp motors to take us out to the islands. The boat was not that large... we were just able to squeeze the 27 of us on it. But, boy! Could it fly!

We all boarded and donned our life jackets. One of the crew suggested I find a seat towards the center of the boat. I should have taken the hint. Instead, I happily perched on the bench at the far front. It was a wild ride! For 40 minutes we sped across the heaving seas, the front of the boat surging up before violently slamming down again and again and again! Thankfully, I had taken Bonine and didn’t get sea sick. There were times when I could swear I got compression fractures from the violent pounding.

We were all awfully glad when we got to the snorkel area. I would like to say it was some of the best snorkeling we’ve experienced, but there were some fairly inexperienced swimmers along, and Woody and I felt a bit like sheep dogs with flippers, trying to herd in the flock, doing all within our power to avoid a phone call to inform a loved one that their missionary son or daughter drowned at the conference!

I thought myself very smart when we boarded the boat once again for the ride back to shore. Instead of the pitching, tossing, and reeling front seat, I chose a more stable spot in the back. I sat beside Mike Timmer, a missionary to Bolivia. We were facing the side of the boat on a small, slippery fiberglass bench. We took off like a rocket, the Captain’s assistant roaring all 400 horsepower to life. As the boat lurched to life, I almost slid off the edge of the bench . Desperate, I grabbed for anything available. Mike’s knee was the only handhold I could find. I shouted to his wife, “Sorry, Bonnie! I’m holding your husband’s knee and there is no way I can let go if I want to stay on the boat!!” (I’m pretty sure his knee had five Susan-finger-sized bruises after the trip!)

The ocean seemed determined to make its power known to the four of us in the far back port corner. It was like sitting in front of a saltwater power washer. I swear I was wetter on board than I had been while snorkeling! As I spluttered and gasped, still hanging on for dear life to Mike’s knee with my left hand, the Captain reached over with his bronzed hand and firmly gripped my other hand. While everything else seemed to be in a state of salty commotion, the Captain’s hand was the only thing that remained firm.

The rest of the trip was filled with screams and laughs and plenty of saltwater. My left hand stayed clutched Mike’s knee and my right was in the Captain’s grip right to the end of the trip.

I take three things away from that trip:

A stiff neck.
A great story.
And an unforgettable lesson to put my hand in the Captain’s when the ride gets rough.

Think Twice!

Do not take revenge, my friends…
Overcome evil with good. Romans 12:19, 21

If you are a "good Christian" like me, you probably don’t really think you need to focus too much on God’s command to not take revenge. But, think twice!

The other day I was trying to concentrate in a “quiet zone” of the airport and two men had been drinking a bit too much and were loud, boisterous, trying to impress one another as well as everyone else. Finally, I kindly asked if they could move to another area. Their response was to laugh loudly and ask, “Are WE making too much NOISE? Are WE making too much NOISE? Ha, ha, ha!” My reply to this was not exactly ungodly, but it certainly did not fall into the category of “overcoming evil with good!”

God's Whispers

This morning as Woody and I participated in the Youth World Annual Conference we watched a DVD with Bill Hybels speaking about leadership. His message challenged us to hear and respond to the whispers of God.

At times I don't think we expect God to speak to us. We need to change those expectations, adjust our antennae, and do all in our power to hear and to heed His voice. Our smartest moves come from promptings from the Spirit, not from our own wisdom.

Over the past year I've seen God work through nudging me. Among the whispers I've heard: "Buckle up!" "Just pray." "Listen well." "Be quiet for at least a minute." "Love her well." "Write a note to them." God's recent whispering to Woody included: "Make sure what others get from you comes from the Word and lifts up Jesus." (Funny how God seems to speak to Woody in longer phrases!))

Think about ways God has been whispering to you. Take a moment to write and tell me your story.

I'm Not a Whiner, I'm a Groaner!

I find I am not bouncing back as quickly after surgery as I would like. I'm really trying not to be a whiner. I think I'm really quite good at a number of things in life - whining, for instance! I probably have reason to whine - my legs ache, I'm uncomfortable, I can't sleep well... I'd tell you more, but I might sound like I'm whining!

After getting back to Costa Rica again, my goal was to become less of a wimp each day. (In other words, I really wanted to steadily get my strength back and slowly get back to my normal activity level.) After a few days, I felt like I'd made no progress. I had little stamina, I felt a bit sad and discouraged, and even my recent fresh encounters with the Lord Jesus were only seen in the rear view mirror. As I took a slow, truncated Celestial Walk one morning, I was praying from Hebrews 12. "No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it."

I began to pray, "Lord, I'm not sure this present trial falls into the category of discipline, but I sure know it isn't pleasant! My worry, though, is that I feel like I'm just trying to get through to the other side. I've given up on becoming less of a wimp, and now just hope to get through it - even if it means I come out a weaker person. I have the feeling that's not what You want from me. I think You're OK with me being weak. But, it would be a crying shame to simply endure and not see any harvest of righteousness or peace as a result. Do what You need to so that I won't put this trial to waste."

I can't say anything has changed dramatically. I'm still slugging my way through the trial - mostly sidelined, spending a lot of time between the couch and the bed! But, my attitude has changed. I read this week in Romans 5:3 about exulting in our tribulations, knowing that they bring about perseverance. I'm learning to exult in my trials. I'm learning to "sink into my weakness," as my good friend Sarah wrote me. I want to be a good steward of these tribulations, coming out with better character. According to Romans 8, all of creation (us included) are groaning (along with the Holy Spirit), "waiting eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our body." If groaning is good enough for the Holy Spirit, it's good enough for you and me!

I am determined not to be a whiner today, but I WILL be a groaner!

Costa Rica Fast Track

Before traveling to Texas, I knew I would have a little over a week upon return to get my Costa Rica driver's license renewed. However, little did I know that I would have surgery and have my return home delayed.

So, like it or not, on Monday I had to go get my license renewed. The consequences of letting it expire would be to fulfill a new requirement to take a driver's education course and the driver's test! That did not sound like a good option!

Still weakened from the surgery only ten days earlier, I decided I would take a taxi with Kari instead of driving myself. I also took along my cane for two reasons: it would help me walk more steadily, and it might be a passport to the fast track for renewal. Kari was not only my "right hand man," but also hoped to get her Tico license for the first time.

The taxi ride to La Uruca took quite a while, and with recent price hikes, as the taxi meter climbed quickly, I had to keep reminding myself that there was really no better option. Upon arrival at the expansive campus of the Department of Public Safety, Kari told me to wait for her as she made the three block hike to a line to get a slip of paper necessary for a required bank deposit. She got to cut to the front of the line and observe first-hand the inefficiency of the disgruntled employees.

There was nowhere to sit and my energy was quickly fading. Kari and I kept texting back and forth as she waited. I finally found a concrete base of a flagpole and perched there. Knowing we would have to wait in bank lines, I finally texted Kari to say I would walk a block to the bank and start waiting through that line.

There were actually two bank lines - one outside and one inside. I'd just gotten to the head of the outside line, when Kari arrived, panting - the needed slip in her hand. We asked the guard at the bank door if we could go to the preferential window. He was not very sympathetic, but by this time I think one look at my pitiful face convinced him to let us pass by the other 30 people in line inside.

The deposit successfully made, we worked our way back four blocks to Kari's original line (fitting in a Snicker bar and some milk, in hopes of reviving me!). Again, we skipped a two block long line to talk to a guard at the door. He looked through my papers and announced, "You need to go to Paso Ancho to get authorization to put your new residency number on your license." I begged. I cried. But, there was no way around it.

We hiked the three blocks back out to the main street and caught another expensive taxi with a wild driver. From there we hiked in to another government complex and waited through a line of just one person. But, that one person took FOREVER! There was a bench there, and I sat while Kari waited - so tempted to stretch out with my sweater as a pillow under my head!

When we finally got that slip of paper, we wound our way out of the complex back to the street. By the way, outside the door we were barraged with vendors selling everything from driver's manuals to tests with the correct answers (only $4! WAY cheaper than the taxi ride!) to fake licenses!

Arriving at the Uruca complex again, we walked the three blocks back to the original door, passing by a line at least two blocks long! Technically, I should have waited through that line, but my legs could barely hold me up by now, and I was ushered to the front of the INSIDE line, which was about another 30 people!

The employee who took down my information and took my photo was not a happy camper. In fact, Kari and I prayed for all the employees there who looked like they were as happy as prison inmates.

I forced a smile for the license photo, not wanting to live for the next six years with a license reminding me of my renewal experience.

Both of us managed to get our licenses and I made it back home after a five hour fast track and $60 in taxi fees!

Airline Reservation Mix-Up

I am so happy to be home after two weeks in the USA which included having surgery! The trip seemed terribly long, made all the longer by the other two sitting in my aisle. One of them was a LOUD Canadian man who lives in "Caasta Rica" and was delighted to boast of all he knew about "Caasta Rica" to my seatmate. Supposedly he spoke fluent Spanish. I was so tempted to at least teach him how to pronounce the name of the country where he lives! I could not even drown him out with my iPod and headphones! The music would be blasting my ear drums and I'd still be hearing things like, "Every day on the coast it gets to 115 degrees." (I have never known it to hit 100 at the beach!) My head started to ache half way through the flight and by the if that was because they, too, were irritated with his brashness, or if they thought I was terrified of landing and was saying my prayers. Anyway, I had to laugh because on my flight up to Dallas, my brother "reserved a seat for Jesus beside me." THIS time, I think American Airlines got those reservations mixed up!

God did give me strength equal to the task yesterday. I had good skycaps and wheelchair assistance and it was a breeze to get through check-in, security, immigration, and customs.

Woody and Kari were a wonderful sight to me as I rolled out in a wheelchair! It is so great to be back home and with Woody. Kari and Woody had the house fixed up so beautifully. The campus gardener, Tulio, had picked and arranged flowers for me. Donald had made a frame with Woody to mount my large Bolivian tapestry in our stairwell and it looks AWESOME! And I actually slept all night - something I haven't done in over a year!

I am feeling weak, tired, and uncomfortable. I decided today that my goal will be to become less of a wimp every day - starting tomorrow! Thanks, Vito, for telling me that God loves wimps! I took a very slow, short walk today with my wonderful Celestial companion and taught her a new command: "Heel!" She's not used to walking so slowly. She sure is happy to have me back, though! She is so tender and loving and is amazingly cuddly for a beast of 115 pounds of pure bone and muscle. By the way, it is always amazing to return to the beauty here. We live in the most incredibly gorgeous spot in the world!

Thanks to each and every one of you who have been praying for me (and Woody!) during the past two weeks. We covet your continued prayers. I have to say I have felt very loved and cared for during these difficult days. We have some more difficult days ahead, so don't let up on praying!

Seeing the Hand of God

As I prepared to dive into this intense period of time facing medical testing in Texas, I visualized God's huge hand and me stepping up to it, sitting down in His palm, and buckling up a seat belt. That's been a good image of what this time has meant for me. It hasn't been easy, but I've been firmly in His hand, and there is no better place to be.

Let me share a few ways that His hand has been so evident:
1) Last year I had a horrendous experience with a urologist in Costa Rica. My friend Debra wrote me from Texas and we discovered problems in common. She had found help after years of chronic issues, and recommended her urologist to me. God's hand was obvious in connecting Debra and me!
2) I could not easily get in to one of the top urologists in Texas. I wrote him a personal letter, and the door opened for me to see him during the time frame that worked best for me. Then, to add one more amazing element, he and I exchanged several emails in which he narrowed down my problem - before ever seeing me as a patient!
3) Meanwhile, I was trying to find a gynecologist with experience in an area not well understood by the medical profession. I came up with the name of a nationally recognized physician in Houston who not only heads the OB/Gyne program for Baylor Medical College, but is also heavily involved in research and teaching. I called to ask for an appointment. I was put on a long waiting list and told he rarely takes new patients. After two months on that list, I was told he still was not taking any patients and that I had best look for another option. Meanwhile, I had also written him a letter explaining my situation and the date that would best suit me, if he could possibly see me. Three days after being told it wouldn't be possible to see him, I got a call to give me an appointment for the very day I wanted!
4) Debra and her family were not only happy to host me during my time in Texas, but also to loan me their car for whatever I needed to do.
5) Upon arrival, the urologist was not only an excellent and kind physician, but also managed to pull strings to fit all my testing into a day and a half. (It took Debra two months to have the same testing done!) Even the doctor himself was amazed at how it all worked into peoples' schedules. One nurse volunteered to come in on her day off to oversee a test for me!
6)I was told I would need surgery, but would have to come back in 2011 because the surgical schedule was full. While headed to Houston to see the other physician, I got a call. "Can you come in for surgery tomorrow?"
7) Even more shocking, is that I replied, "Sorry, I can't have surgery tomorrow! I have an appointment in Houston. Can you make it Wednesday?" Who ever heard of the patient dictating to the surgeon when to do surgery that is being squeezed in?!? They said "Yes, come Wednesday."
8)I called Debra and asked if I might be able to stay on several extra days and if she could take me in on the day of surgery. Even though they were in the process of changing the carpet in her house that day, Debra took me in and spent the day with me! The carpet in my bedroom was changed as I was at the hospital and Bill had the guest bedroom all ready for my return!
9) Our health insurance only covers 80% after meeting the deductible. Though we've met our deductible, there is still a huge chunk of change to pay on the remaining 20% until a maximum out of pocket is met. A donor volunteered to cover a large part of our remaining out-of-pocket expenses. (We have yet to see if there will still be more to pay!)
10) Just as an added blessing and evidence that God was pampering me... my surgery was performed on my birthday. The hospital personnel made it a special day and the operating room crew sang happy birthday to me right before putting me to sleep.
10) Debra had a six month follow-up appointment scheduled with the urologist on Monday the 15th. She did not need to keep the appointment and almost canceled it a while back, but felt led to hold onto it longer. On Friday it was decided it would be best for me to go back in before traveling back to Costa Rica. I was actually able to take Debra's appointment. God scheduled it, I know! Who else would have guessed that I'd need an appointment on the morning of November 15, 2010?
11) Though Woody was unable to be with me during the unexpected surgery, during each step of my journey I've had someone put their arm around me and pray. Even the hospital admission clerk, after chatting with me and checking me in, asked, "Could I have my Bible study group pray for you this evening?" I have felt well-loved, even as I've been far away from loved ones!

Now, I sit here wondering if I will actually feel better once I get over the surgery and follow the medical advice I've been given. Should I doubt? Hasn't God's hand been VERY evident so far in this journey?

PS My big thanks to Brian and Stephanie, Jack and Karen, and Lu Ann and Ed, who have been stepping stones of faith in this journey! And, thank you, love of my life, for constant phone calls, love and encouragement!

A Sparrow Named Colossus

Many of you wished me a very happy birthday yesterday, and I am moved by the love and compassion of so many dear friends. My birthday was scattered with bits of joy, but overall it was one of the most uncomfortable days of the year so far. I've slept 2 hours out of the past 24, but can't seem to get to sleep no matter what. I drove five hours from Houston to Dallas yesterday in order to have surgery in the afternoon. When finally back with my hosts, I ate a tiny bit after fasting for 25 hours. My husband and other family are all over 1000 miles away.

So, I breathe a feeble prayer and recruit my limited resources... "my strength is made perfect in weakness," God has said, and I can say "when I am weak then I am strong." As Vance Havner once said, "By that rule I should be a colossus right now, for I couldn't be much weaker."

On Sunday, I heard a marvelous special number at church - the classic I most associate with Ethel Waters and the Billy Graham crusades: "His Eye is on the Sparrow."

Why should I feel discouraged, why should the shadows come,
Why should my heart be lonely, and long for heav’n and home,
When Jesus is my portion? My constant Friend is He:
His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.

It puts a smile on my face in the midst of discomfort when I picture myself as God's sparrow, named Colossus!

Yesterday Jesus Died for Me

In follow-up to what I wrote below, "When Were You Last Moved to Tears?" I want to tell you that yesterday Jesus died for me.

I've had several more special moments alone with Jesus since I last wrote. For instance, on Tuesday I flew alone to Dallas for medical reasons. It's a pretty scary time for me - not knowing what they will do to me or say or recommend. So, I was fervently praying on my trip. I didn't have a book in particular to distract me on the four hour flight, so I paged through my daily agenda notebook, crossing through anything that could be tossed and circling important things to remember. Though it is not my journal, it is peppered with thoughts from God's Word. As I circled those thoughts and passages that have spoken to me in the past weeks, I felt almost as if Jesus were in the vacant seat next to me.

When I arrived in Dallas, I got a Facebook note from my brother, Vito, which said, "Hey, sis! I've asked God to reserve a seat for Jesus beside you on all your flights. Gotcha covered!" God did just that!

On Wednesday I got to wondering why God's timing would have me reading about my Lord being crucified on the very day I would be going to the specialist and having testing done. I also wondered to myself, "If I was crying just thinking about this coming up, what will I do when I read the crucifixion accounts themselves?"

Early yesterday morning I began to read. I was deeply impacted by Jesus' suffering and His compassion in the midst of it. I did shed a few tears, but the meaning and the timing came clear to me throughout the course of the day. I sensed clearly that Jesus died for ME yesterday. That's why He was hanging on the cross on Thursday, November 4th. In the little bit of suffering I went through yesterday, I was only reminded of the suffering He did as He lovingly looked on me and died for my sins.

Oh, what a Savior I have!

When Were You Last Moved to Tears?

Yesterday I cried.

I've been reading the Chronological Bible this year. At times the Old Testament readings were a bit long and heavy for me. But, perseverance has paid off and the gospels have meant even more to me after wading through the whole Old Testament.

Before I tell you why I cried yesterday, though, let me tell you of an embarrassing experience in my past. Many years ago while serving in Bolivia, we went to visit a very conservative missionary couple who had worked for decades in the city of Sucre. As a result of many hard years among people hostile to the gospel, they had planted a small, very conservative Brethren church. We went with Gordon and Myrtle to join the small gathering of believers to celebrate the Lord's Supper. As part of the remembrance, one believer or another would request to have a hymn sung. Sadly, the hymnals had only the words in them, so we were unable to read the music of the unfamiliar hymns. The Bolivians attending had no ear for music. Gordon was obviously tone deaf - evidenced by his loud grunting, boisterously following the words in a monotone. Myrtle probably knew the melody line, but her voice was one of those soprano, quivering ones that grate on the ears. Woody valiantly was trying out different melodies to the words in front of him, hoping to make up for the cacophony, but sadly failing to land on a melody to match the lyrics. It was too much for my musical ear and I felt laughter welling up inside me.

Now, I promise you, that it is not appropriate to laugh at the Lord's Table in a conservative Brethren assembly. I made every attempt to stuff my guffaws inside, bending over with my face buried in my hands. I occasionally would get control over myself, only to hear another warble and grunt, and clearly hearing Woody's various melodies run out before reaching the end of the lyrics. That communion service was torture for me, and I knew my career as a missionary was over!

However, in a twist of God's mercy on me, Myrtle came up to me after the service, exclaiming, "How wonderful, Susan! It's been years since I've seen someone moved to tears at the Lord's Table!" I choked out some enigmatic reply, stuffing in my impulse to break out once again into laughter!

Now, back to the present... As I've been reading the parallel gospel accounts of the life of Jesus, I've actually felt like I've been walking alongside my Savior while reading the events of His life and soaking in His words. As I've quickly approached the end of His life on earth, I have found myself feeling more and more grief. Why? I think it's partly because I don't want my time reading the gospels to draw to a close. But also, it's because I am enjoying "being with Jesus" so much, and I don't want Him to die and "leave" me! I feel almost like I am in the disciples' sandals as He is giving them final words.

As I sat down yesterday to read John 15-17, these words struck me like a knife penetrating to my soul. Jesus said to the disciples, "But because I have said these things to you, sorrow has filled your heart." (Oh, Lord! Yes! Sorrow has indeed filled my own heart!)"I have many more things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now." (Oh, how I want to hear more of Your words, but I cannot bear more right now. You are so right!) "Therefore you too have grief now." (Yes! I do have grief!)

By this time I was crying. Celeste, at my feet, was craning her head, staring at me. She's not used to such emotion during our quiet times together!

Jesus also said to them, "But I tell you the truth, it is to your advantage that I go away; for if I do not go away, the Helper will not come to you."

At this, I began to bawl. I know I have the Holy Spirit. But, I wanted so badly to have the actual physical presence of the Lord Jesus! Oh, how I love Him! Oh, how I want to be with Him! Silly me, I prayed and cried aloud, "Please, Lord Jesus! Don't go away! I want You to be with me right here on my front porch!"

I know. It's silly. But, this has been a soul-stirring experience for me. (I've been crying, even as I write this!) Never have I longed so deeply to walk hand-in-hand with Jesus.