Many things spoke of the Power and Presence of God. The hardness of marble altars, stone floors and wooden pews spoke of strength. Then I looked at the people. They were soft. Vessels of earthen clay, yet filled with spirit.

Many shy away from being called “soft.” But the softness I saw was holy. That which makes us vulnerable, malleable and capable of love.

Back home this truth was clearly seen when I visited the home of friends who had just lost their 24-year-old son in death. Neighbors, family and friends from their parish came, some with arms loaded with food. Many offered prayers from caring hearts. And as they left each carried away a piece of the pain. So much pain to be borne there in that home. Yet the grieving family knew through the people that they would not be bearing this alone. The softness of human love was leaving its impact, as love in action extends strength.

At times like this we often feel inept. Words may seem inadequate. But what we do have to give is enough. That is empathy, wrapped in flesh. When we are weak, then we are strong. The Apostle Paul exhibited that throughout the letters he left for believers who would follow “the way,” which Christ revealed to him.

When we see a fellow human hurting, something incredible occurs. There is an urging within to stop—set aside what we are doing—and go. “Be there.” It is love in action, coming from the treasure of one’s heart. Tears convey release, as solace is received.  Such “holy water” grants clear vision that this love, as it flows from others, is a healing force.

We all endure grievous trials during this life? 1 Peter 1:7, portrays how it is through these hardships that our faith comes forth “much more precious than gold that is tested by fire.” So, there is a refinement process and if we yield ourselves to it, enrichment results. And, God is praised.

While alongside my friends, I saw no anger or resentment. No bitterness spouted, although these dear people had lost another son a mere 13 months before. God is their ally, not their foe. And because of this, peace reigns in their home. Philippians 4:7, refers to this as “a peace of God which passes all understanding that guards our hearts through Christ Jesus.”

So here we are as humans, ideally all “soft covers”—no “hardbacks.” Fragile, destined for much wear and tear. Yet durable beyond comprehension. Filled with strength, having quite enough to share.

People. Earth’s richest resource. Vessels deemed worthy by God to carry His love. A love experienced most vividly when seen flowing from one to another. Oh, holy ones of God, we belong to each other.

Thank God for our hearts of flesh, capable of expanding, stretching, growing—even at the risk of breaking. Yet it is in the breaking that we are formed afresh. As Christ’s body, broken in the Eucharist and given away for the nourishment of many, we live on loving life and one another. The “breakings” do come, challenging our souls and in the end, what is remembered is that faith does hold strong when we depend on the power of the Spirit. This is what makes us more than flesh . . . And able to live forever.

Carol explored various religions, yet said, “None fit the bill for me.”  She liked believing only in what she could solidly see, touch, taste and smell . . . along with what she felt in her heart.  So I simply shared the journey with her, offering prayer at points, which she did not oppose. For sure, praying helped me, in my determining to “walk alongside” my friend on this, her last journey.

Carol loved books and had great interest in researching topics, one of which was cuneiform writing. Discussing these helped occupy her dexterous mind. Pain was present.

We talked on many topics of interest, fairly often agreeing with one another. Disagreements came and went, but failed to slow us down. Carol was “rich”—not monetarily, for sure, but in depth of soul. Much time has passed, yet, I still remember her laughter.

As the end of her days grew closer, Carol showed me the gown in which she wanted to be buried.  She was a grand and beloved person, attending closely to the things in life that triggered her interests. The story of Carol’s last days on earth was published in our hometown daily newspaper, the Idaho Statesman, in Boise, ID. It carried the words of her family members, the hospice staff and mine, revealing how death can be when everyone pulls together while reckoning with the ins and outs of dying.

I was with Carol often those days before her death, even on the evening she left us. She knew acceptance was the key to moving through it. I recall being worried, though, as she decided being an atheist best described what she felt.

Weeks before her leave-taking I gave a note to Carol while sitting at her bedside. It read:

“My dear friend, tuck this away for when you are too curious and must read.

Just in case. Would you please say this little prayer to God?

“God, if there is a heaven and Jesus’ words are true, ‘I am the way, the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father, except through me,’ would You please be there when I die and take me to your home in heaven?

“If I am wrong in not believing and you are there for me—I want to know you, love you and join my friends who have believed. If this comes to be, please have mercy on me and take me in. I just don’t have what it takes to believe. Perhaps you can yet bring it to be?”

Carol read the note immediately, then looked up with a big smile on her face, saying, “Oh, Joy, I have already done that!”

The laugh was on me; but today, I savor that moment.

At a viewing of Carol’s body, I sat alone in the room. Something unusual was felt. It was as if a golden glow filled the room. I thought of concerns that plagued after that last night with Carol . . . now wondering, was I as helpful to her as I could have been? Knowing the Scriptures well, did I share passages with her that could assure her that she would make it to heaven? Was I right in inwardly rejoicing over her response of “having covered that?”

Sometimes our surmising, when heartfelt, are all the guidance we need while seeking to discern something. Still, there were moments while sitting in that room with her body, during which I questioned, “Did I do enough for her?”

It is true, always within grief we experience some elements of guilt.

Many years have passed. Today, I think of the things I learned through relating with Carol. Sometimes relationships don’t end well. And, there, too, we meet with self-doubt.

And how do we work our way through self-doubt? By giving it room, deciding what’s true, and learning what we can from it.

Inside the cover of The Interlinear Bible Hebrew, Greek, English, with which she gifted me, Carol wrote, “Joy, Hope you enjoy this Book. I found your friendship very refreshing. Keep making good choices. Lots of love, Carol. Thank you.”

Within the golden glow sensed I held the essence of Carol and our friendship. My spirit was quickened by a Scripture passage, “Be still and know that I am God.” What a blessing it is to believe God takes us right  where we are. God’s love for us is grand—and knowing this is glorious!

An exasperating experience happened last week while working with an offshore tech about a software problem. Upon calling for help, the cue was looping; I couldn’t get a person. Then upon reaching one, he could not find my account. Forty-five minutes had passed!

People talk about “losing their religion. “Rankled, in the moment, I lost my perspective. Words like “d_ _ and h_ _ _,” were trying to surface. Yikes! I never swear! Now, my temper became the bigger concern. When I asked the Lord, “Help me understand what is behind this anger,” an old memory arose. Funny how early-life happenings can come vividly alive affecting a current situation.

What happened to trigger my anger and produce my energized tongue needed attention? But, first it was important to follow the advice I so frequently give to others: “Honor your emotions and identify old messages derived from wounds of the past—that can still affect your life.” Yes. There it was. The old memory had engrained a message. And, it was that message while working with the off-shore tech that forcefully came alive, “They didn’t care enough!” So, I am back to the drawing board for more inner work.

Once we get a taste of the freedom that comes with healing our emotional wounds, we are more inclined to invest time for dealing with difficult emotions and forgiving the past. Joyfulness results, springing up from the soul. 

The truth is this: We can’t reach our max in wholeness by putting a lid on our difficult feelings. Why? Because doing so also finds us capping off most of our joy as well. Ideally, we reckon with feelings that are difficult to handle, versus pushing those down deep inside. What a great pleasure it is to work through the pain and begin to praise God for all the goodness in our lives. Soon, more and more excitement, enthusiasm, gladness, and peace of heart are present. These are the keys to living a life of emotional freedom. We can live on “the celebration side.”  Voile!

Through the ages, wisdom has flowed to humanity. Socrates once said, “Know thyself.”  He knew well that “the life which is unexamined is not worth living.” Then, William Shakespeare wrote, “To thine own self be true.” These writers urge us to examine our hearts. King David’s words, after he looked within, are common to my own. He cried out, “Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me,” (Psalms 51:10). The greatest of all wisdom comes to play when, after examining, we align our lives with what God wants of us. With God’s help, our hearts are made clean, and we are back on the ”solid ground” of righteous living wherein we respect ourselves, enjoy others, and abide within God’s intentions.

If we, as believers, can’t rejoice, but instead live and act as if life on earth is a trial to be endured—we are not living in truth. This world is only a brief part of eternal existence. Actually, we are just passing through. Life here, presents us with an opportunity to learn how to become more and more deeply involved with the Lord, our Creator. It is within this wonderful privilege that we hear God’s call and find how best we can develop our gifts and meaningfully serve the needs of our families and others.

Jesus talked much about joy, even as He neared the shadow of the cross. And, for sure, there is joy in the presence of the Lord. We can feel that joy and that Presence while reading Scripture. Within those pages, the character and wondrous nature of God shows up. We see that our Creator wants the best for us. We are meant to enjoy our lives and this beautiful earth.

Joy comes when we capture some of the essence of what God and His goodness is about. The Bible says us to, “Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!  Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things” (Phil 4:4-7).

Contrary to what some people believe regarding a Christian’s life, God doesn’t limit our potential and possibilities. Rather, God vastly expands them.

We cannot avoid thinking about death as the numbers of those who die from the COVID virus are astounding. This fact prevails as we read the newspaper, or view the news. People are fearful—and this is not good. A study of muscle testing (kinesiology) suggests our muscular system is weakened when we know something is wrong for us, or we face a threat. It may be possible our immune systems are also weakened as we begin to realize the truth, “I could catch this Covid thing—I could die from it.” Could it be that we are less likely to become sick with the virus if we conquer the fear of it?

It is possible to make friends with death and come to live with the truth that death is part of life. It is said, “None of us get out of here alive.” (True, in a temporal sense.) One of the greatest mysteries of all is that we are here on earth for a short time and that none of us know how long we will have. This is the very factor that makes life so precious.

Embracing death, learning to accept it as a friend can make a huge difference with our quality of life. If we know it’s “there for us” as friend, not a foe, we are more apt to have peace and take care not to bring it on early. This is simply a matter of not doing something stupid, like racing a car or motorcycle at excessive miles per hour . . . or, driving while intoxicated. Of course, there are many other ways in which we can bring on death before it needs to come. Life is precious.

For twenty of my early years, I had a hard time staying alive until a surgery, a vena cava filter, was invented near my 35^th birthday. This was a miracle for me as it stopped blood clots flowing from my legs and abdomen into my heart and lungs. Now, my living long astounds me . . . when there is time to think about it.

How I made friends with death was through journaling, a practice that kept my mind on what I truly wanted to happen while here on earth, with God’s help. The Bible became my daily guide, allowing me to become more “spiritually minded.” Prayer flows easily and often.

Death became my friend by making it a part of how I live my life. Perpetually grateful for being alive, I celebrate life by giving thanks to God for the opportunities to help others on their journeys. One of the greatest of all blessings for a chaplain is to be there for individuals as they manage their fears in life and as they face death.

As regards handling the difficult emotions of fearing one’s end-of-life, it does no good to deny the fact that it will come. Dealing with that fear of it, honestly and squarely, takes a trust in God’s provision of everlasting life. Jesus came to be with us in order to provide our eternal future with Him. This world is our pilgrim-place. We will truly be alive in the “ever-after” once we are at home with God who created us. Meanwhile,” to be spiritual minded is life and peace,” (Romans 8:6.)

One of the good things that can come out of this pandemic is that most of us are living at a slower pace. Another, is that we see more clearly our temporal state. These factors prepare us better for “making the best of it,” while here. We can determine what we want to achieve in life, then get to the job of making it happen. Just be ready. Read the Bible daily. (Suggestion: start with the book of John, alongside the ministry of a pastor.)

Keeping one’s heart in God’s truth brings wonderful peace and comfort. “Always ready” becomes the best possible motto for life, while here on terra firma. What awaits will be glorious, beyond what we can imagine.

When our son, Ted, was six years old, he was intrigued with the Bible story of Peter walking on water. With childlike faith he headed for the irrigation ditch to give it a try. But born in the space-age Ted knew something about backup systems. He wore his galoshes.

When Ted became a man he told me of his little trip to the ditch and how hard it was on his faith. I’m glad to see him as a grown man, along with his brothers, faithfully “walking on waters” in a spiritual sense. I wonder how Peter must have felt. Under the best of circumstances—in the physical presence of Jesus—his faith moved right out from underneath him.

The trials we face day-by-day are not the same choppy waters that Peter tried to master, but the test is the same. Peter took his eyes off Jesus and looked at the circumstance. It was doubt and fear that flooded out his faith. The question is, how to keep our eyes on the master when the storms are raging? How do we have faith when the “waves” are high and mighty?

First, what is faith? It is having “confidence in what we hope for and assurance of things not seen,” (Hebrews 11:1).

This means faith is holding fast to something even before we see it happening—mentally picturing our answer and saying “thank you” although it is not yet a fact. Faith is all wrapped up in what’s holy, and although challenging, it is wholly obtainable.

So, where do we get faith? (Romans 10:17), tells us it comes from “hearing what is preached from the word of God.”

Through faith we move within a storm to a place of peace, on top of the “waters” waiting the storm out.

Unfortunately, we don’t always do that. We get stressed up, toss and turn in the night and sometimes get an ulcer. Then, just as the Master reached out and saved Peter before he sank into the dark waters, our Lord rescues us. But not before we uttered Peter’s cry, “Lord, save me.” Our Lord knows we are weak—and he loves us within our struggles.

The Psalmist knew what it was like to be nearly overwhelmed by the waters of affliction as he wrote: “all your waves and billows are gone over me.” Yet, said, “He brought me up also out of the horrible pit, out of the miry clay, set my feet upon a rock and established my steps,” (Psalms 40:2).

Could it be that we have one foot on the rock and the other on shifting sands? Is this why some of us are experiencing “the pits?”

Faith brings new vision. Vision without the limitations of physical sight allows us to see beyond the storm of the moment. The apostle Paul intended this when he admonished us to “walk in the spirit.”

Strangely enough, it is often the little things that ripple the waters of life. Thoughtless words and actions trip us up. So often it is our pride that hurts the most. But it is false pride that says we “cannot make mistakes.”

Clarence J. Enzler wrote in My Other Self, “Should your imperfections momentarily gain the upper hand, you do well to be displeased at your fault . . . . When you allow yourself to be dejected over your involuntary faults, it is because you think you are better than you really are. And once you allow your imperfections to upset you, you are likely to find yourself in a sharp tongue, irritable mood in all that you do.”

I believe God has faith, too. Faith in us. Instead of seeing us as we are now, He sees us as we will be when His work is finished in us. We must have faith in ourselves, too, knowing that he is working with his best tools at the safest speed to bring us into what He would like us to be. God does not get frustrated with us. Instead, he is there to help us when we want to bail out on ourselves.

It will take a lifetime to overcome each and every innate weakness. Yet each time we succeed in resisting the temptation to go our own way we are stronger for the next go-around and each time we keep our eyes on the Master in the middle of the storm, faith grows.

There seems to be a powerful inner aversion to loving and appreciating ourselves, at least for many of us.

We wrap ourselves up in “Almighty Work” with goals for owning lovely homes, impressive cars, garments of every shape and color. This is all well and good, as long as the work itself and what we are able to produce through it, are not perceived to be the measure of our worth.

True celebration of what could offer heartfelt, memorable moments is robbed of its glory, as most often work wins out. Who has not felt an edge of guilt while sitting with a treasured book? After all, the yard needs work and floors beg cleaning.

Yet, life can become monotonous if we  don’t recognize the definite need for making sure there is time to enjoy and savor the fruits of our labors—alongside clocking in at work, plus cleaning pots and pans and doing the laundry, while training energized children!

Always, there will be the inevitable surprises of life. Having a balanced life makes us better prepared for these when they come.

Loving ourselves means taking time out to simply enjoy the gift of human “beingness.” Like taking an hour to read a novel—or even 15 minutes to simply think about good memories . . . playing with the children, or the dog . . . take a walk or run through the park. . . have a meaningful conversation . . . or write a loving letter to a close friend. These are a few poignant ways for reviving the spirit. It just takes loving oneself enough to grant these little leisures.

Then, what of the Sabbath day of rest we are called to set aside for restful wholeness? Have you ever noticed how many promises are extended for those who obey this Biblical commandment? It seems to be a direct criterion for good health and happiness, yet so often is ignored. We wonder why our hearts skip beats, flutter amiss or give up early. Could it be that we are failing to give ourselves essential time for restoration?

Charles E. Cowman, author of the devotional titled Streams in the Desert, wrote, “There is no music in the rest, but there is the making of music in the rest.” What would it be like if instruments in the orchestra sounded with every beat? No doubt discomfort or anxiety would see us walking out before the performance ends.

Could it be prideful attitudes, thinking we are indestructible and indispensable, or lack of trust in the “Conductor” that keeps us from following undisputable directives? Or, a rebellious attitude . . . “I’ll play it my way.”

God loved us so much He gave commands to keep us from running amok. It is actually good self-love when we keep them. However, life without respect for God’s directives brings brokenness, deficits, regrets and guilt! We all are in the same drum kettle. We want to make beautiful music with our lives. Doing so means we must practice good self-care by taking time to listen for what is taking place in our souls.

Being one’s own best friend means we won’t believe the worst about ourselves just because it is easiest. Instead we will weed out those harsh, chastising, guilt-ridden messages that can be prevalent—the negative self-talk—and speak up for our own solid goodness. After all, we are children of God. And, “God don’t make junk,” as one fine author states it.

When we truly begin to get a sense of our own goodness, instead of becoming self-centered (as is easily feared) that love moves outward, evidenced by a strengthened capacity for more earnestly caring about others and even the whole world.

I will never forget a day while driving down McCulloch Avenue, when a thought made a quantum leap into my consciousness. In a momentary awakening, the usual “me first” attitude is replaced by an indescribable sense of oneness. For several moments it seems we all are moving to the beat of One Heart.

I was flooded with the deepest sense of caring never experienced before–an intense desire for all of us to arrive on time, whatever the place or the cause, filled my thoughts. Since then, a truth is becoming apparent: The more I love myself, the more capacity there is to love others. Was Jesus trying to tell us this when He said, “Love your neighbor as yourself?”

What if we do the ultimate, by becoming more in tune with “the Director,” intent on following what He called “the first command, “you shall love the Lord our God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength,” Mark 12:20. A love and appreciation of self (and others) could flow, even on McCulloch! Happy Valentine’s Day. 

Gary and I experienced a surprising happenstance while on vacation years back. We still can stop to savor it. We were hiking in Ecola Park, at Cannon Beach, Oregon, when we passed an older man on the trail. He asked Gary, “Do you have the time, Sir?” Both of us looked at our watches as Gary gave him the time.

That proved to be the beginning of an astounding encounter. As it happened, this man turned out to be anything but ordinary. He was elderly, appearing to be a little unkempt but fit enough to take to the trail.  It was his spirit that took us by surprise.

Conversation sparked and some of his words still come to mind even as years have passed. Without mentioning God, this man told us much about Him, inadvertently answering questions I had sorely pondered.

Tears surfaced when the “old man of the trail” spoke of how joy is to be at the bottom of all we do—that “fun” is at the base of the word “function”—and how we can go as far as we want to go, see as much as we want to see and experience as much as we want to experience while riding through life on the crest of joy.

As if talking was not enough, the man asked, “May I sing?” We were happy to let him. He began singing in a different language. Then he sang in English to the same melody, now stretching out his hands as if to include nature. It was a phenomenal experience right there at the edge of the Pacific Ocean!

I began to wonder if he were a real person or perhaps an angel; were we being “entertained unawares,” as Scripture speaks of happening with humans at times?

So, I questioned him, “What is your field or profession?”

“Psychopharmacology,” he answered. “The study of the effect drugs have on the human mind.”

He had been a teacher at a medical school in Portland. No doubt now retired. But ever so alive!

We remained spell-bound for half an hour, during which neither Gary nor I spoke more than two or three sentences. It was as if we had nothing to say of importance in the light of what was pouring out of this man’s copious heart.

As we parted, we spontaneously hugged the “stranger.” Throughout the day Gary and I returned to his words, knowing that God had touched us powerfully through them. It was fun to muse inwardly of how this guy could possibly have been an angel sent to us on the trail. Yet, surely it is even more spectacular that God could use one human being to touch and bless the lives of two others, who are absolute strangers—so soundly in such a short span of time. That was the “miracle.”

The second little miracle was that we gave him “the time of day.” And, that he had stopped us and asked for it! 

We pondered a lot that day. We could see how all of us on earth can be a blessing to others. It takes being willing to “stick our necks out,” rather than to live encased in ourselves and our “immediates.”  

It does take time to perchance enrich another, even if briefly. And, it takes daring to see God in all those we meet, realizing these moments as “Divine Appointments.” How different would life be, if only we could ride the waves of life experiencing more serendipitous moments!

Solomon’s words says it best in Proverbs 17:22, “A joyful heart is good medicine,”

Think of life as “riding the waves,” experiencing the “fun” in the midst of our “functions.” Laughter is a major pleasure that we can enjoy daily right at home, relieving much of our pent up tensions. Watch for it, as opportunities abound.

Here’s one that happened while working on a column for Today’s Herald-News in January: I intended to write, “Have you noticed how good it feels to sing, whistle, hum and enjoy music?” However, I inadvertently left the “g” off the word “sing.” When Gary, my excellent first-line editor, caught this faux pas we laughed—big time!  I quickly added the “g,” so the word could read “sing” instead of “sin.” That was close.

We are funny little creatures, as humans. Laughing at ourselves helps us stay sane! It is like medicine to our soul . . . helping us surf through life with excitement!

Did you know that positive thinking positively changes the chemistry of our bodies? We learn about this through a field of medicine called psychoneuroimmunology*, an aspect of medicine that deals with what is taking place in the mind, the will, and the emotions of a person.

This long word indicates that everything that goes on in our psyches affects our neurological system, our immune system, and our endocrine system. Later, the scientists found the hormonal system is also affected either positively or negatively by our thoughts. That is why the asterisk is added. Apparently, making the word any longer than psychoneuroimmunology wasn’t advisable.

The body is equipped with amazing intelligence. It is continuously at work fostering stability, balance and healing within our many organs, systems and tissues. Yet, we can disrupt that process, simply through the way we think. Fear, anxiety, negativity are three major culprits. Yet, perhaps the worst are bitterness, hatred, and thoughts of revenge. Unhealthy thoughts are for sure enemies of good health.

Other enemies to our good health are more familiar, like poor eating habits, not getting enough rest, smoking, heavy drinking and taking drugs other than those prescribed by doctors. These are things we can do something about. Yet, the hardest of all may well be controlling our thoughts.

In my work, it is evident that a large percentage of people are giving minimal thought of the very large role spirituality plays in wholeness. Truly, the soul is most wholesome when we have a concept of who we are, what our gifts are and why being here on the globe matters.

The happiest people on earth are not those with clever jokes, entertaining us—or the people with “ a lotta money.” No, the happiest people on earth have discovered a life that is meaningful, one that holds purpose. They most often are those who have concluded “there is a God”— One who loves them through and through . . . the One who has allowed this experience of life. Great enjoyment comes in finding God is present to us.

Last week’s column held remarkable scientific facts indicating that we are built to enjoy this life. Yet, many do not.  Rather, they are simply trying to numb out with alcohol and/or opioids hoping to escape how bad they feel. Not only do 200 people die daily from overdose in the US, now—but our suicide rate is without a doubt climbing.

It is always good to look closely at this truth: We are spiritual beings having a human experience. Believing we are humans here to do whatever bangs our shutters, gets us into major trouble.

Within my 25 years of doing mental health counseling, I ask within the first session, “Why do you think we are here?” Some don’t even want to think about that question. A few say, “I don’t know.” But, mostly I am given an answer that rings amazingly true for the majority. After giving it some thought, most say, “We are here to help others.” Or, “We are here to learn.” They come for help when their lives are upside down, but, while thinking deeply and looking inward, they innately know what life is really, truly about.

Take the word “psychoneuroimmunology.” It is the study of the connection between the psyche and the extent it can affect the very cells and juices of our bodies. The word “psyche” is synonymous with the word “soul.” This may clarify why our beliefs, thoughts and emotions play a significant role in our body’s ability to stay well. In my studies, I discovered a seldom realized precept: Feelings follow thoughts. So, when you feel rotten, ask yourself, “WHAT WAS I THINKING!”

Holy Writ supports wholesome thinking throughout. Philippians 4:8-9, gives the nutshell version, “Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.”

Medical doctors can do wonderful things for us when we get sick. But when it comes to thoughts and emotions—we are in control. We hold the power to take dominion over what can rob us of one of the greatest pursuits of life: good health!

Last August, our youngest son had open heart surgery. In view of other serious health problems, I tried to prepare myself, should he not survive. I feared my own heart would cave in if the news any parent fears should need to be heard.

“He has so much more life to live; please God intervene,” was my prayer. As Gary and I waited long hours, it was as if I could barely breathe or think. Then from deep within, I heard, “I am here with you.’” Strength, comfort and fresh hope arose. Rejoicing came with the doctor’s report, “Two bypasses—and His heart is pumping on its own.” We were assured the next few days would be “ify.” But, happily, our son is with us today!

Many of us have known times of feeling like we are about to “cave in,” yet were given an inner sense of not being here on the globe alone. Rather, we felt joined by the Almighty One, who is fully able to make “the necessary happen.” And, God alone knows what that is.

Are you noticing how each time we go through a trial, we come out stronger? Oswald Chambers put it this way, “The trial of our faith gives us a good banking account in the heavenly places, and when the next trial comes our wealth there will tide us over. If we have confidence in God beyond the actual . . . we shall see the lie at the heart of the fear, and our faith will win through in every detail.”

That heavenly bank account does at times seem way too small. Still, there is always enough for what is needed—if we hold steady and pray our way through. Jesus has told us to “pray always.” This way, we can stop short of panicking.

All of the above is about growing spiritual muscle, which is something we do not get by curling up in the corner fretting in fear of losses. It comes in exercising our faith, thrusting it over and over into the face of our fears.

Doing battle with fear is not easy as fear is an awesome boxer. Especially when our tendencies lean toward, “seeing is believing.” So, when we “do not” see signs of getting what we hope for, and when the odds seem entirely against us, it is easy to start losing our footing.

This battle is common to us all, but especially so when our children are involved. Countless times, while raising three sons, I have taken a troubling matter to God, while visualizing the act of putting the situation “on the altar.” (Remember Abraham’s great moment of putting his son there?) Then, I renege. My mind never seems to stop its efforts to “figure it all out.” I slip into varied mental gyrations. Waiting patiently gets passed by with my intense desire to “do something to fix it” more quickly. Waiting on God might take too long, right?

Spiritual battles call for growth. Persistence is gained as we work our way through them. There are times when it seems our backs are against the ropes and we find ourselves hanging on with all our might. With battered emotions, we remember to call on God. We may even recall a Scripture like, “Lo, I am with you always.” Strength comes! We stop gasping for breath and face up to that “old’ enemy in the ring.” Placing our trust afresh in the Lord strengthens our resolve and provides a “second wind.”

It is through winning the battle over fear that we truly are able to live on a higher level of reality. While in those tight and fearsome places we learn to look beyond actualities, and stay focused on the powerful truths of Scripture that bolster our faith—like, “Be strong and of good courage; be not afraid or dismayed. The Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” (Joshua 1:9).