Everything is in His Hands

Welcome back!  Here is the promised photo of the Christmas tree of hope.  For those of you who did not read the previous post, yet, you may want to after this.  Just in case - have tissue handy... Today I want to tell you about a time when God used some simple words a kind widow offered me in advance of a deep valley I went through.  You just never know how the Lord will use you and you might not find out on this side of heaven.

It was a testy season of our life.  My husband, Ian, had been let go at his job since the society's contract ran out and a for-profit group took over.  We had a baby and a toddler to help distract us from our financial concerns, but we also wanted to provide well for them.  I had just put down the baby for a nap after nursing him to sleep.  Just as I got half way through a book I was reading to our toddler, the telephone rang.  I have received bad news over the telephone before, but none had been so shocking up until then.

Before I get to the phone call, let me introduce you to Anna.  She is an elderly, godly, and gentle widow who has been beautifully molded through both blessings and adversity.  I had spontaneously requested prayer at church, one day, and Anna came up behind me and warmly placed her hands on my shoulders.  She told me that she doesn't hear well, and that she had not heard my prayer request; but, she said that she believed the Lord wanted her to tell me that, "Everything is in His hands".  I thanked her. A week later the phone call came.

My dad had died on his bathroom floor, alone.  It was sudden.  So we packed up our boys and made a nine hour journey to arrange a funeral and say goodbye to my earthly father.  His apartment showed no signs of my dad knowing he was soon leaving.  A newspaper lay open on the sofa, a Bible lay open on the kitchen table and his retirement gift Rolex lay on the bathroom counter.  I had recently talked to my dad and he had been experiencing dizziness.  It turned out that he missed his doctor's appointment, regarding this issue, the very day of his death.

I knew I would see him again in heaven, one day, but grief comes none-the-less and I would lay awake for hours until I could almost feel Anna's warm hands on my shoulders reminding me that, "Everything is in His hands".  With this comforting consolation I would release the racing thoughts and drift to sleep. Thank you, Anna, for being His hands to me.

By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.  John 13:35

in His love,
Wendy

P.S.  If you would like to see the lovely rhododendron in this photo: come back next week and I will show you it - in all its glory!

Hope Eternal

It's rose blooming time, here, in my garden.  The one you see pictured is on the front garden fence. I've been slowly training it to climb at various spots along the south facing side of the house. This old fashioned rock rose drapes itself over our privacy hedge like a bridal veil. It gives people, who walk by, an aromatic treat that hints at a secret garden behind the cover.

I have given you, also, a hint of the mysterious planter I promised to show you. If you can stay with me for a bit longer, I'll include a more complete picture.  I hope you will read on, with me, as I want to speak a bit more about hope. Today, in church, the word, "hope", kept popping up in the music lyrics, Scripture references and sermon notes.  Our pastor mentioned that prisoners of war that survived, where others did not, because they had experienced hope. Hope was their salvation.

I remember, years ago, when my husband and I had been chosen by a pregnant teenager to adopt her baby, it brought to mind a friend who had prepared for an adoption only to have the birth-mom change her mind, moments after the birth.  I recalled that this friend had gone out, weeks before the birth, to purchase all the necessities of a newborn for the nursery.  It was a time of heartbreak for that couple; but, eventually the birth mom gave them her child when it was 6 months old.  I was there, that day, when the little guy arrived. He had the biggest smile.  I think he sensed that he had landed in a good place.

So, it was our turn and I phoned this friend to ask if she regretted buying and planning for the newborn. I wanted to know if it was wise for us to do the same.  She said there was no harm in hoping and she would do it all the same again.  So, off to the baby department, of The Bay, we headed.  Those are great memories I have of the two of us lovingly picking up soft flannel newborn night-shirts and receiving blankets.  Pink, yellow and blue bunnies scampered across a matching set of both.  We discussed how we wanted our child to have the best mattress for their crib that we could afford.  We wanted to be good parents.  It was during that shopping trip that we became aware of just how much we wanted to hold our own baby. We dared to hope, and it was delicious.

With all the preparations and nursery decorating done, it was time to wait.  As the weeks went by, we were met by silence.  No word from our lawyer and no word from our contact person came during this time. Yes, we had been chosen, but had the birth-mom chosen to keep her child?  It was still her child. This happened over 23 years ago and I can't remember all the details.  But I do remember that she kept the baby and we passed on the baby stuff to someone, close, who was newly pregnant.

We were crushed.  But my friend was right, I would not have done it any other way.  Hope is exhilarating. Perhaps it can be said that it is better to have hoped than not to have hoped at all. So, heavy hearted, we celebrated Christmas with a miniature live evergreen complete with tiny decorations. We went on a romantic weekend at an ocean resort; I bought a vintage green (of course) convertible, and life went on.

A few years later I experienced an early miscarriage.  It was confirmed by my doctor. I had not even known if I could get pregnant, so I named that baby, Hope.  A year later, I was paying closer attention to my body and was able to discover the next pregnancy early.  Hope helped. The baby clothing we had purchased ended up back in our hands. Our friend's baby did not need them anymore; since he was now a preschooler. It was wonderful to see those scampering bunnies again. We ended up using those clothes for three babies of our own.

Recently, my daughter, who is the youngest of our three children, and I were watering some bonsai trees  in the garden.  I told her about our failed adoption and how my favorite bonsai was the Christmas tree of grief that we had purchased over 23 years ago.  It is a lovely tree to me, now.  It reminds me from where I've come, and it reminds me to pray for Elizabeth.  Perhaps she has a daughter now too, and perhaps I should rename the bonsai - Hope?

I hope that you have stayed with me; I will post the closeup of the planter below. If you would like to see the bonsai tree of "Hope"... show up next week and I'll post it.

This verse is worth repeating: Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life. Proverbs 13:12

Take care,

Wendy