Lambs To Lambs

We interrupt this family to bring you cancer.   We interrupt this life to bring you treatment.  We interrupt anything to fight for everything.  That’s how it felt in the two years I spent fighting my brothers cancer with him.   Hospitals, crash course anatomy, blood drives, familiar elevators, unfamiliar transplants, anxiety lows, happiness highs, hope, and hospice.  To this day, I can close my eyes and tell you every triumph and turn in the journey.  I can also tell you every prayer.  I think the part that still stands out to me, the part that still powers my soul,  is the way we all came together for another lamb in the thicket.  The shepherd included.

One of the most touching moments I recall of one lamb to another was in the second week of Steve’s cancer.  He’d had surgery that morning to place a central line in his chest so the vast regiment of meds and chemo could be administered with easy access through that line.  His platelets were very low, a condition that resulted in very runny blood, and he was not yet steady on his feet.  As life would have it in the most inopportune time, he needed to stand and use a plastic urinal.  The nurses took advantage to refresh bed sheets and washcloths and I took advantage of the kleenex box.  As he sat on the edge of his bed, his wife gently put her hands beneath his underarms to balance him.  All of a sudden as he stood up, Steve’s central line site began to leak and drain blood all down the front of him.  The low platelets were keeping his blood from clotting.  His wife didn’t shrink to getting it on her clothing, she drew in closer and softly spoke some words that still sound out in my heart today.  “Oh I can hug you, you’re standing up, I haven’t been able to hug you for a couple weeks!”   With that, she held on to balance him, blood dripping between them to the floor and all over their clothes, and the two of them standing there hugging cheek to cheek as she stroked the back of his head.  I remember thinking how loving it was her very first thought was seizing awareness and moments to hug him.  There was no fear of germs, no rush to clean up, and no worry for blood.  The nurses stopped what they were doing, I stopped having any kleenex left.  There was a man and wife hugging in the most humble of circumstances with compassion dripping between them, she hugging, he depending, and both loving.  There was a lamb and a lamb helping each other out of the thicket.  I didn’t know if it was more moving to watch the lambs or more meaningful to feel the shepherd.

In a changing world with so much coming unhinged, I love the stories of lambs coming together to rescue.  I love the compassion of lambs coming together for refuge.  But most of all, I love the hope of seizing awareness and moments to stand together and hug, Jesus blood dripping between us, Jesus healing flowing among us, Jesus love gushing around us as we not only live lamb to lamb, but live humbly pulling each other out of the thickets.  Our shepherd included.  Him loving.  Us depending.  Both waiting to see each other cheek to cheek.

“This is my commandment : Love each other in the same way I have loved you.”    John 15:12

“Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience.”  Colossians 3:12

 

A Place In The Grass

“You don’t have what it takes to make it.”  Twenty five years ago I sat in a professors office and felt the season of my life change as she sat across from me and spoke those exact words.  “Is that why you called this appointment with me?” I asked.  “Yes.”  Without another word, I gathered my things, picked my heart up off the floor, and left campus.  For good.  I wish I had left her words there.  I didn’t.  I didn’t know to.  I didn’t think to.  It was easier to wonder where my place in the grass was now.  It was hard to wonder where the shepherd was and if He heard what happened in that part of the field.  Who would He rescue?  The heart of a professor who would say those words or the mind of a student needing to un-hear them.  We were both stuck in different thickets, one with crushing comments, the other with crushing confidence.

In the years to come, it would take time to learn what God’s call was in my life. I’ve come to know several callings.  I’m a wife to a kind and loving man, a mother to a beautiful vibrant daughter, homemaker, published writer, and for many many years, a school secretary.  Callings and growing often go together and the journey is full with every emotion, every milestone, and every mess.  I’m working my way out of the thicket.  I’m making it.  I’ve learned God calls a multitude of promise in one lamb.  I’m learning one lamb can cause a multitude of passion for one God.

I’m a lamb in the field with all of you, living and learning from my place in the grass.  The field is full.  The weather varies and the seasons of life change from time to time.   The world is a changing place, so are the lambs.  Sometimes there’s long invasive thickets groaning with pain and price.  Other times green luxurious pastures and streams of glassy water extending promise and perseverance.  The shepherd is here.  He always has been.  I can’t see Him.  I wish I could.  I would hold His hand with all the strength a dependent lamb could.  But there’s one thing for sure.  Faith on fire is remembering He’s holding my heart and calling me.  He’s not leaving.  He’s a staying shepherd.  He always will be.  I have a special place in the grass no matter what stones are thrown, no matter what calling I’m in the middle of, no matter where I am in the field.

SO DO YOU.  You have what it takes to make it.

“He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside quiet waters, He refreshes my soul.”  Psalm 23:2-4

“For I am the Lord your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, do not fear; I will help you.”   Isaiah 41:13 NIV