Sweeten My Heart

Sweeten My Heart Now when they came to Marah, they could not drink the waters of Marah, for they were bitter. Therefore the name of it was called Marah. And the people complained against Moses, saying, “What shall we drink?” so he cried out to the Lord, and the Lord showed him a tree. When he cast it into the waters, the waters were made sweet. Exodus 15:23-25 My eyes scanned the list of prayer requests. So many people with a myriad needs in their lives; devastating illnesses, the loss of loved ones, financial crises, families torn apart. It made my heart sigh.. “Lord, help them,” I whispered. Then my eyes fell on another prayer request. This one was even more tragic. The request was for a man who was dying with a bitter heart apart from God. I felt incredibly sad. I was reminded of the above story in the book of Exodus. After wandering in the wilderness for three days, the Israelites became thirsty. But unfortunately the waters of Marah were bitter. They were polluted and undrinkable. Dry and parched, the Israelites complained to Moses. Peculiarly, God showed Moses a tree. The scripture tells us that Moses threw the tree into the waters. Miraculously, the waters became sweet, and Israelites were able to drink and be refreshed. The tree Moses tossed into the waters, represents the wooden cross of Christ. With Jesus Christ in the middle of any situation, no matter how bitter, He offers us pure water, even “living water.” (John 4:10) He does this with His mercy, with the promise of His Word, and the comfort of the Holy Spirit who “comforts us in all of our tribulations.” 2 Cor. 1:4 What possible evil occurred in this man’s life that could have made him ostracize God so, even in his dying days? I don’t know what his life experiences were, but I do know that life can be cruelly unfair, and unthinkable tragedy can occur in many lives. Like the Israelites in Exodus, we thirst for something to fill up the hurt and the emptiness . We look for explanations, and when we don’t find them, we can drink from dirtied waters. Perhaps that was what happened to the man dying with a bitter heart. Maybe the difficulties in his life went unresolved and unforgiven. The Bible also says that as Christians we can let a “root of bitterness” spring up in our hearts as well. I think that can occur because of instances when God didn’t do things the way we thought He should. We can begin to think that God somehow betrayed us. Those thoughts and feelings can poison our souls. They choke off our relationship with Him, unless they are immediately brought before God. We need to reject bitterness and instead learn to let go and trust Him at all cost. Dying in bitterness, apart from God. I can think of nothing more hopeless. When I die, I want to turn my eyes to the expectant hope of seeing Jesus’ face. When I leave this place, I want there to be joy somewhere deep in my soul, and difficult as this life is, I don’t want to drink from dirty water because I don’t understand the hard questions. Nothing is worth that. I have since thought about the prayer request for that man. I pray he had an encounter with God, one that sweetened his heart.

A Mere Twenty Grandma's Ago

Twenty Grandma’s Ago This year I reached a major milestone in my life. I turned 50 years old. The “big 50.” The half century mark. Yet apart from looking in the mirror (to avoid seeing gray hair and crow’s feet crinkling the corner of my eyes), it’s hard to believe so much time as passed. I can effortlessly drift back in time to when I was only 5 years old in Mrs. Davies’ kindergarten class at Taft Elementary. I remember marching across South Avenue on my way to school; crossing guard protecting us from oncoming traffic. Vividly I remember “faking sick” at St. Dominic’s Elementary School, insisting I go to the nurse’s office. What the nurse didn’t know was that we had just gotten a little puppy, and I just had to get home. I literally remember climbing on the kitchen counter top looking for candy. Instead I found a bottle of baby aspirin. I downed everyone of them. They tasted somewhat sweet. Every year my brother and sister and I woke up around 5 am, ready to unwrap our Christmas Presents. I loved my “The Easy Bake Oven, Silly Sand, and Malibu Barbie.” Apart from looking in the mirror I am “Miss Hawaii” in our annual Miss Avondale neighborhood beauty contest way back when; when I was about 7 or 8 years old. How could 50 years have passed so quickly? It’s strange how when your young, 50 years seems so…old. Now that I am 50, I don’t think I’m that old. I certainly realize that time is passing quicker than I would like, but I’m not an antique yet. I’ve also began to think about my grandma ‘s life. She lived nearly a century herself, and I’m sure apart from looking in the mirror at her really white hair and teeny tiny stature (she shrunk, so will I so I’m told) , in her mind’s eye she could see, feel and hear the sounds of her own youth. I am sure it was hard for her to grasp how fast time had passed for her. Perhaps her 90+ years went by as quickly as my 50. Even in her old age, it was amazing how she could recall the memories and times in her life that were decades and decades past. She was just a small child when she came from Italy and lived with her Aunt in a large house in Northern Ohio. Later she took care of her ailing mother. She would recall stories when she was a very young mother…maybe 18, who went on to have 13 children. When questioned about her very large gaggle of children, her eyes would widen and she would let out a little laugh and grin then throw her arms in the air. Her explanation revolved around a set of railroad tracks that were next to her house. During the overnight hours the roaring train would “rouse” or wake up my grandfather as he slept next to her. The result… 13 children. I heard he made a very big garden. Not all that long ago, living to be 100 years old was nearly unthinkable to me, but now that I am 50, and seeing how rapidly time is passing, I’m seeing 100 years in a different light. To most of us, the times of Christ, about 2000 years ago, are unimaginable. To be honest, sometimes those years seemed so long ago that it could be hard to grasp the physical presence of Jesus walking the earth. I can’t imagine wearing sandals and robe garments, living in a stone house, and eating figs or whatever they ate back then. I most definitely cannot imagine not having a bathroom, hot shower, body wash or Estee Lauder make-up. Let’s face it, the time of Jesus is so antiquated and so far removed from life as we know it today. But turning 50 has given me a new paradigm on time. It’s much shorter than we can imagine. I am beginning to see time and the life of Christ in relation to “grandma years,” or about a century, like about as long as my grandma lived. One grandma equals one hundred years. From that perspective, Christ walked this earth only “20 grandma’s” ago. No wonder the Apostle Peter wrote “But, beloved, do not forget this one thing, that with the Lord one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day.” (2 Peter 3:8) My 50 years is just a sweep across the clock, and my grandma’s 90+ years equals just a few hours. Since a day equals a thousand years, the 2000 years since Christ is only 2 days, or “20 grandma’s ago.” When looking at centuries in “grandma years,” it has somehow restored a freshness in the reality of the gospel in me. What has been written in scripture really is quite genuine. I don’t believe it’s been twisted and changed over and over again as so many bible critics claim. Twenty grandma’s ago God sent His only begotten son to give his life as a ransom for lost and sinful mankind. Believing in Jesus Christ and all who He says He is, isn’t much of a stretch. As Christians today we look earnestly for his second coming. The period in time when “God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, not crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away.” (Rev. 21:4) Hallelujah! Indeed, that moment in time will come as well. But we need to remember Jesus Christ is very near to us right now, and not afar off. Time has had no effect on His plans, purposes, or deep love for us. No matter where in time, He would have come to us. God has purposed our lives to be the center of His world, just as much as He wants is be the center of ours. I don’t know if I will live as long as my grandmother. But I look forward to being a grandmother someday myself. I can’t wait to tell my grandchildren the colorful stories of my childhood. I’ll call to mind how I baked my brother cakes in my “easy bake oven” and mud pies in the back yard. But much more importantly I hope to instill in them the very nearness of God, who walked this earth not so long ago after all. I also want to encourage them not to sell any of their “Barbie” doll clothes at a garage sale. They’ll do much better if they put them on e-bay.

Don't Be Blown Away

Therefore whoever hears these sayings of Mine, and does them, I will liken him to a wise man who built his house on the rock; and the rain descended, the floods came, and the winds blew and eat on that house; and it did not fall, for it was founded on the rock. But everyone who hears these sayings of Mine, and does not do them, will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand; and the rain descended, and the winds blew and beat on that house; and it fell. And great was its fall. Matthew 7:24-27


The wind and rain came slamming against the side of the house, plastering the autumn leaves like wallpaper to the siding. Lightning flashed through the curtains throwing shadows on the bedroom walls. For an instant the night turned into day. The window pane rattled while the thunder rolled on and on. I hunkered down in bed pulling the blanket up to my chin. It was comforting being safe and secure in bed, yet quite ironic that just inches separated me from the raging storm.

Just days earlier I learned that I had a cancer reoccurrence and now I laid in bed pondering my prognosis. The thunder outside seemed to mirror my emotions as well as the voices that tried to whisper doubts in my head. Gosh I hate this, I thought. And then suddenly, as in 3-D I saw these words in the gospel of Matthew written before me. It was almost as if God had written them on the bedroom wall for me.

Matt. 7:24-27

That night God gave me an illustrated sermon. He used the raging storm outside to remind me of a deep spiritual truth. He assured me that I would stand securely through this ordeal because my faith was founded and built upon the solid rock of Jesus Christ and His Word. Although a terrible storm was threatening me, I was safe. I was not like the foolish person who built my house on the sand that shifts at a mere gust of wind, let alone the storms of life.


That night I was so glad that I had that security and promise from God, knowing that no matter what would come against me, lousy diagnosis included, I was fortressed.
One sure thing in life is that storms will come against us. Nearly everyone has a story to tell. It may not be an illness that threatens their world, but it can be loss of a loved one, a divorce, or the heartbreak of a child who ran away from home. Some people without the anchor of Christ will fall and crumble sorely; devastated without finding hope. Let us not be like the foolish man who built his house without a strong foundation.
If your world is being rattled by a deluge of rain, wind and lightning, stake your faith on
Jesus, and your hope will not be blown away.

Lord Jesus,
Right now my world is being rattled, and I need you to help me. I want to be the wise man who builds my house on the rock, which is You. I believe in you and in your words, and I thank you that I am protected from this storm. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Get Your Hair Wet!



Nothing can put a spin on your world like the diagnosis of cancer. Cancer and its treatments often cause the priorities of life to drastically change. I found there were some things that I appreciated more than ever like my friends and family, and there were some other things that I could have cared less about. My children were dearer to me than ever and sharing my life with them was a daily gift. Truly the sky never looked bluer or the sun so bright as I finished my cancer treatments. I found I cared less about what other people thought and I should live my life as I wanted. I danced like a crazy lady at a relatives wedding, skipped down the street while I took my dog for a walk, went to the local pool with my children and didn’t sweat the fact that I inherited my grandmother’s chunky thighs. I suppose some of my vanity fell by the wayside, in the light of fighting for my life, being bald from chemotherapy and full of scars from elaborate surgeries.

While at the pool with my children, feeling like the whole world was bursting inside of me, I noticed a woman who also frequented the pool. She was very proper looking with perfectly coiffure hair and a full face of precision make-up. She wore a brightly colored bathing suit and gently waded in the pool after the children were sent out of the water for a break. There is absolutely nothing wrong with going swimming, or rather wading looking your best, but day after day I noticed her perfect appearance and how she refused to get her hair wet. I guess it bothered me deep down somewhere because part of me wanted to “dunk” her although I wasn’t quite sure why. Perhaps because I had only sunscreen on my face, my hair was soaking wet from being dunked by my small boys, and yes…I had grandma’s thighs. Perhaps if I hadn’t fought cancer I would be afraid to get my hair wet too, and maybe I wouldn’t leave the house without mascara and lipstick.

It was a few years later that I learned this woman was diagnosed with cancer. My mind flashed back to the image of her wading quite ladylike in the pool, staying away from the children for fear her hair would get splashed. I felt sorry that I thought of dunking her. I don’t think I had that thought of her to be cruel, but I believe that deep inside of me I wished for a few minutes she had walked in my shoes of cancer and that she would know the freedom of plunging your head under the water and not caring how you looked as your face broke through the water and into the sun.

I did not know the details of her illness, but I found out some time later that she had died from the disease. I am sure there came a time in the course of her battle where her vision shifted and the most meaningful things in the world were her family, friends and hopefully her faith, and maybe she embraced more opportunities to get her hair good and wet for the pure joy of caring less.

Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed for any of us, whether we are fighting an illness or not, and I think it would be a sad thing if we lived our lives only in the “safe zone.” Live life large. Dance like no one is watching you. Sing loudly with the radio turned up in your car, and by all means make the cannonball with the biggest splash.

Abounding Grace

Have you ever woken up in the morning and felt totally overwhelmed with the situation you are in? As soon as your eyes open does your circumstance seem to jump right on your brain, making you want to bury your heart and soul back under the blankets? I have, and I think most of us have felt that way at some time in our lives and probably will still feel that way some time in the future. I think feeling overwhelmed is okay. It is just a feeling, and for us, as Christians it is usually a temporary state once we line up our difficulty with God's Word and God's plans for us. I love 2 Corinthians 9:8. It reads:

And God is able to make ALL grace abound toward you, that you, always having ALL sufficiency in ALLthings may have an abundance for every good work.(Emphasis mine)

I love this because I need all grace, all sufficiency and to have all abundance in every good work. I have to go to the hospital many times for various tests and to see various doctors and I really don't want to go. I'd rather bury my head in those bed blankets. But I am encouraged, even charged up to watch God's grace, ALL of God's grace abound in my life. Not just part of His grace, or a smidgen of His grace or a taste of His grace, but all of it in abundance.

Today if your heart is overwhelmed, let Him know your heart and ask that ALL of His grace abound in you.

In Jesus name,
Mary

The Faith of a Child

Childhood memories are an amazing thing. At the time when we are children, we don’t realized how significant some of our childhood experiences can be in our adult lives. Now that I am a mother, I find myself reliving parts of my own childhood through the lives of my children…like collecting lightning bugs on warm summer evenings, opening up a “fresh box” of crayons, or singing on a swing set with my legs outstretched and arms and head titled back…looking at the world upside-down. We recently bought our sons a puppy we affectionately named “Zoe.” With Zoe came a childhood memory that remains one of the dearest to me, and is surprisingly one that the Lord has frequently brought to my mind as an adult.
I don’t remember exactly when I decided I wanted a dog. It seemed I was born an animal lover. Unfortunately, I was the only one in my family of five who had this passion. My brother and sister would have agreed to a dog. They were not the problem. My father may have even resolved the idea. He was not the problem. The problem was my mom. She wanted a puppy in her immaculately clean house just about as much as you’d want to have the chicken pox the rest of your life!
Yet, I remained determined to hold on to my dream. I remember kneeling beside her in church just praying for a puppy. I remember the childlike faith I had, hoping and believing that I would indeed get that dog…maybe even tomorrow! My mother quietly asked what I was so earnestly praying for. When I told her “a dog” she rolled her eyes and thought, “You can pray all you want Mary, because the one thing you are not going to get is a dog!”
Some time had passed, and I still continued to faithfully pray for a puppy. Then, suddenly, unexpectedly, my father who was a mailman had a lady on his route that had a pedigree dog about to give birth. She wanted to give him a puppy as a gift. Much to my mother’s own bewilderment (even today), she agreed to accept the dog. At the age of 8, a week before Christmas I was presented with a darling little black puppy wrapped in a white little blanket. Upon taking “Brandy” into my arms, I looked into my mother’s eyes and exclaimed, “See Mom, God does answer your prayers!”
This memory is one that I have often pondered over, especially after I became diagnosed with cancer. I believe it illustrates spiritual truths that we as Christians sometimes depreciate. Jesus said in Matthew 18:3 that unless we become as little children we will “by no means enter the kingdom of heaven” He goes on to say in verse 4 that whoever humbles himself as a little child is “the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” In Mark’s gospel 10:14-16 Jesus lets the little children come to Him. He said we must “receive the kingdom of God as a little child.” He then took the children in His arms, laid His hands upon them and blessed them.
Although I am not a child anymore, there are times I wish I had that childlike perspective more often…the trusting, dependent part of an innocent child who believed and hoped all things…before doubt and cynicism crept in brought about my life’s disappointments and difficulties…what I thought God “should have done” or “could have done” but didn’t.
His Word requires that when we don’t understand…when life doesn’t make sense, when we are diagnosed with a life threatening illness like cancer, that we trust Him all the more. We need to embrace child-like faith that He is our father who sees the big picture from start to finish.
“Become as a little child.” It sounds so “unspiritual” doesn’t it? There are no “Seven Steps to Super Salvation,” or “God’s Powerful Plan for Perpetual Prosperity.” Jesus didn’t leave us with a formula or method for marvelous, miraculous miracles. Instead we should become like little children who trust in a loving Father who is working out His will in our lives. The next time one of life’s storms comes my way, (and they will) I want to be that little girl again who is expecting God’s goodness to surprise her…not because of anything I know or I’ve done…but because I am keeping a tiny hand grasped to one much larger than my own.

Some Doctors Say Stupid Things

I'm just sitting here thinking about a few of the stupid, thoughtless things some doctors have told me over the past twenty-five years of surviving multiple cancer reoccurences. Unfortunately, some of their thoughtless words fell like an avalanche all over my psyche, crushing me....like the time a doctor asked me if I wanted my "children to grow up without a mommy?" or "if it came back three times, you know it's going to come back again!" Arggghhhhh!!!! During the coma I was in several years ago, one doctor told my husband that "he couldn't paint a rosy picture of your wifes future."

Let's put it in perspective. Growing up I was taught that the words of a doctor were etched in stone...or were written in gold....but throughout the years I have learned that doctors are just men...hopefully intelligent enough to pass medical school, but not necessarily gifted in the art of healing. There are doctors who are not hopeful, are not energized and lack the spiritualy compass to encourage their patients with faith and hope. And truly, they do not know what our futures hold.

The only one who does know our future is the Lord God. Truly. Thankfully, He is the one who numbers our days and holds our futures, not a doctors mindless words or opinion. I love this scripture in Jeremiah 29:11 "For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope."

I so wish the doctor who told my husband that he couldn't "paint a rosy picture" of my life could have seen me snorkeling off of the islands of Lanai and Molokini in Hawaii several months after I woke up from that coma! I was frolicking in the deepest blue ocean with my family and dearest friends; feeling like the whole world was inside of me! It was incredible.

If a doctor has put negative, hurtful words in your mind, blow them off and remind yourself that God knows your future.

Let us be reminded that our futures are in the Lords's hands, not in any doctors words, or hospital reports.

Mary