I was staring at the website. I was disappointed, hurt, and even pride showed up. Being a writer can have its ups and downs. I felt like this was a confusing down that I was experiencing.
I had submitted a piece to an editor. I thought the interaction between us had gone very well. I was happy with the content that was written and it was submitted. Writing takes time from when it is submitted to when it is actually published in print, or on the screen. I knew this and was familiar with the process.
It had been months and I had no communication with the editor. I knew this was the time frame they were going to publish. I decided to go to the website. That is when I saw an article. The article was displaying some other writers words and as I searched, my name was missing.
That is why I was disappointed. I was hoping to be published with this site. I had been encouraged and thought I would be. Then I became hurt. How could they not think I was a good writer. I began to take it personal instead of examining other possibilities. The last emotion to show up was pride. I had read some of the information and thought. What I submitted was better than that.
As I sat there with these emotions and thoughts swirling in my head, I felt like I was going to take a road of sulking and self pity.
Then I stopped. The Holy Spirit seemed to stop me. I said a prayer.
“Lord I don’t know what has happened. I don’t understand it. I know you did not want me published on this site. I surrender it all to you, with my emotions.” Lord I trust you with how you will use my writing.”
Instead of a bucket of yucky feelings swiring in my spirit, I had a transformation. I felt peace. I could focus on the Lord, and I could move on to what God wanted me to focus on.
I have not always responded with my focus on the Lord, but I was grateful that this time I had.
Time passed and then, it was a busy Monday with lots of communication to respond to. I quickly opened the email, being prepared to trash the correspondence. I completely changed that idea as I began to read. It seems that the editor had written back and I was published in an article.
What happened?
The first article was part of two articles. The first one was just the warm up let’s say. The one where I was published was for the top writing.
God had told me no. I did not understand. What He knew was that no meant yes for something better. We have heard that before. A no, can be praise worthy because it means yes to something better. People have told us this at times of difficulty. Someone was not telling me this, I was living this.
God is telling you no. You want to have a pity party. This is a no that can be praised. This is God telling you, that there is something better! Surrender your heart and pray for God to help you with the Holy Spirit. You will be amazed at what God can do with that prayer.
Hebrews 11:40
since God had planned something better for us so that only together with us would they be made perfect.
He was only six years old when the accident happened. I don’t know how I knew it was really serious, for he complained of no pain, but I knew–I was positive.
Andy had been out in the front yard helping his dad get rid of some tall weeds in the vacant lot adjoining our property. Suddenly he came in the front door wiping moisture from his left cheek and said, “My eye is watering, Mommy.”
I’ll never know how or why I was so certain, but I felt a reaction like a blow in the pit of my stomach, and words formed in my mind, “His eye is hurt badly.” After trying to say some calming words to him, I went straight to the phone to call the pediatrician. It was 11:30 a.m. on a sunny Saturday morning. I told Doctor Wiedman that Andy’s eye was hurt and I needed for him to see Andy right away.
My husband Dan came in, and was surprised to find me calling the doctor since Andy was not even crying or saying that his eye hurt. But perhaps he thought my anxiety was due to the fact that I was expecting a baby, our third, in two months.
While driving the two miles, I looked over at Andy’s and with a sense of shock noted that his left eye was no longer shiny and blue. It looked dull, gray and almost flat. When we stopped at a light, I asked him to cover his right eye with his hand and tell me if he could see me. “No! That’s funny,” he said, “I can’t see.”
When we entered Doctor Weidman’s office, he greeted us, and after one hard look at Andy across the room, he left to bring back the eye specialist near his office. The eye doctor was very kind, but after a quick look and a few questions, he left. He returned quickly to say, “Mrs. God, there is one eye surgeon in this town who I feel might be able to help. I’ve called him at the Episcopal Eye, Ear, Nose and Throat Hospital, and he will meet you there.” Noting my condition, both doctors suggested that my husband come and drive us there, which he did.
When the three of us reached the hospital, Dr. John Harry King greeted us in the gentlest way. He examined Andy deftly, talking to him reassuringly as he did so He spoke to us privately. “Mr. and Mrs. Gold, the cornea of Andy’s eye has somehow pierced, perhaps by a thorn. The reason it looks dull is that all of the fluid has gone out through the hole. Unfortunately there is no surgery that we can perform.”
“Is there any chance the eye can be saved?” I asked, desperately.
He paused, carefully choosing his words. “Yes, Mrs. Gold, a faint chance. The hole could heal and some of the fluid re-form. But, I must warn you it is a very, very slim chance and a medical rarity.” He agreed that we should give the eye every chance for any possible healing, and as this meant both eyes must be bandaged, we felt I should stay with Andy in the hospital.
It was a very old hospital, and they led us to a long , narrow room where they put Andy in a bed with sides to be sure he didn’t fall. A cot was brought in for me, and our vigil of keeping a healthy, active, six-year-old boy with bandaged eyes completely still and quiet began. When I quickly went home for a suitcase and some books to read to him, I made several calls, asking for prayers for our Andy.
Back at the hospital, the long evening finally drew to a close, and as things quieted down, I hoped Andy would sleep. Before he did, I asked him to pray with me. I’d found a special prayer at home, one I’d had but never used, except to read it casually. It was called a Nine-hour Novena, and I had always liked its wording. “Ask and ye shall receive; I ask, I seek, I knock, and request that my petition be granted.”
Andy repeated each phrase after me. I intended to make the prayer for him at hourly intervals all night long. He asked me to wake him so he could pray, too.
Though there was no air conditioning and the room was stifling hot, Andy quickly fell asleep. When I was sure he wouldn’t hear me, I knelt beside the cot and wept. But then, prayer came, “Dear Lord, please heal Andy’s eye….he wasn’t doing anything wrong or being silly….he was helping his dad. You know how he always notices everything in the house with his bright eyes; how he can find things for us all; how he tries to help watch his little brother. Oh please, please don’t let that eye be blinded.” Then I added a special request, “Help me to wake each hour, on the hour, to say the novena.” As tired as I was, this was asking a great deal.
I seemed to fall asleep quickly, as Andy had. I woke later and looked at my watch. It was exactly 11 p.m. I knelt again, and read the prayer form a light in the hall. I whispered, “Andy?” He, too, was awake and joined me in the prayer, then seemed to go right back to sleep. I drowsed off too, but at midnight some inner alarm clock sounded and I prayed again. After the third time this happened, exactly this way, I was no longer surprised. It seemed natural and right and I somehow felt sure it was God’s way of letting us know we were in His care.
When I read the prayer for the sixth time–at three a.m.– I felt the greatest warmth and sense of comfort I can recall. The words came alive, bringing tears of gratitude to my eyes. Though I didn’t hear an audible voice inside, I felt God speaking to me, reassuring me, inviting me to let go, to relinquish Andy’s problem to Him.
“Thank You, Lord,” I murmured, “for caring, for staying so close at this time. Yes, I trust You to deal with Andy’s eye.” I had no way of knowing if my child would indeed see again, but whatever happened I knew God would help us through the ordeal. I felt so very loved, somehow, in that dismal little room.
At 6 a.m, as we said the prayer for the last time, we heard activities beginning in the hallways. Doctor King had agreed to come in very early around 8:30, I think, and my husband and I met him when he arrived. The doctor talked with Andy a bit before beginning to remove the bandage to check for possible infection.
As he took the bandage off, I saw the incredulous look on Doctor King’s face. Then I looked at Andy.
The eye was round again! It was bright blue, and shining, exactly like the other eye.
“Mrs Gold, what have you done?” the doctor exclaimed, which, in retrospect, was an odd question. When I told him quickly and briefly of our “nine-hour prayer.” the doctor himself had tears in his eyes. Gently he covered Andy’s “good” eye, held up two finger and asked, “How many?” Andy said, “Two,” then replied correctly to other tests Doctor King tried.
“This is most gratifying,” Doctor King said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
In looking back, I know it was not just the novena that brought healing. It was prayer, repeated prayer, ceaseless prayer, unrelenting prayer–our own, plus the prayers of others–that brought us to the point where we relinquished the problem to God. To this day, if you ask him, Doctor King, the very famous eye surgeon whose cornea preservation technique led to the beginning of the International Eye Foundation, will tell you that it was prayer that brought about one of the most remarkable occurrences he has every witnessed–the restoration of a small boy’s eye.
by May Sheridan Gold
And God said unto Moses, I AM THAT I AM: and he said, Thus shalt thou say unto the children of Israel, I AM hath sent me unto you.
Me: It looks like it’s about knee high to a giraffe.
Prodigal: I reckon it does.
Me: Have fun mowing!
This is form the book Bold Love by Dr. Dan B. Allender & Dr. Tremper Longman III
Love often succombs to a cold death on the sharp rocks of disappointment. Love cannot last long or live out its eternal purpose in human relationships without a foundation of forgiveness–the forgiveness from God for our failure to love with a pure, other-centered heart, and forgiveness when the recipient of our love spurns our gift or uses our soul in an unloving fashion. Unless the fabric of our involvement with others is woven with the threads of forgiveness, love will suffer the corruption of denial, hardness, cynicism, and eventually hatred.
Given the reality of sin, love and forgiveness are inextricably bound together. God is continually, literally, second-by-second covering our sin under His Son’s blood and forgiving us our sins. God cannot love us unless He forgives us and cannot forgive us without a commitment to love us. Love and forgiveness are equally bound together in all human relationships. I cannot hope to ever love someone unless I am committed to forgive him. I cannot hope to ever forgive him–that is, truly forgive him–unless I know the rich, incomprehensible joy of being forgiven.
Please forgive me. Then please love me again.
O God, thou art my God; early will I seek thee: my soul thirsteth for thee, my flesh longeth for thee in a dry and thirsty land, where no water is.
Someone put it this way: “Never doubt in the dark what God gave you in the light.” During the great days of your life, when God speaks through His Word, remember His promises. Rest in them, apply them, and expect their fulfillment. His promises are given for you to believe, not merely to quote. So? Believe them! Quit quibbling over them. Stop overanalyzing them. Believe them, which means you accept them, and then act upon them.
Lord I need your help right now. I am having a lot of doubts and fear is creeping in. I just talked with a person. You know how you talk to some people and you feel much worse after talking to them. My fears have now increased. Then you gave me these words. You knew what I needed. You would think the fear would leave immediately. Today for some reason I want to hold on to them more. Help me to let go. Help me to BELIEVE.
Lift up your eyes on high, and behold who hath created these things, that bringeth out their host by number: he calleth them all by names by the greatness of his might, for that he is strong in power; not one faileth.
This is from the book God Will Make A Way: Stories of Hope
What happened to Alexander the Great’s “Seven Wonders of the Ancient World”? A few pieces of the tomb of Mausolus, built in 350 B.C., can be found in the British Museum in London. The Temple of Artemis at Ephesus was destroyed in A.D. 262 by the Goths. The Hanging Gardens of Babylon have long since disappeared. The ruins of Babylon have been excavated in the twentieth century, but the splendor associated with the city is no more.
The magnificent statue of Zeus that once stood above the city of Olympus was dragged off and burned during the Byzantine era. King Ptolemy’s famous lighthouse near Alexandria, Egypt, crumpled during a fourteenth-century earth quake. The Colossus of Rhodes met the same fate in 224 B.C. when it toppled into the sea. Only the pyramids of Egypt have survived the ravages of time.
What man makes does not last forever. Last year’s automobile styles are soon out-of-date, as are last year’s fashions. Best-sellers and movie hits come and go year after year. Products break, things become obsolete, companies merge, taste change.
When we look at the work we do, we could easily become discouraged, thinking that what we produce with our hands and minds will not last and is therefore of little benefit. That is far from the case when we are in God’s will. While the things we produce, write, create, or manufacture are perishable, the work we do for the Lord always produces eternal results.
None of us are capable of seeing the full benefit of what we do. We cannot see the changes taking place in our own souls or the far-reaching impact our actions have on others. But we can resolve to live and work as a continual opportunity to glorify Him in this earth.
We have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of his grace.
This is from the book Bold Love by Dr. Dan B. Allender and Dr. Tremper Longman III
In my sin, I felt contaminated and dangerous. I was isolated from my family, myself, and certainly from God. If love was ever to prevail, complete forgiveness was required. The flawed lover must be restored to the path of love after love has perished on the shoals of self-centeredness. At the deepest level, the taste of forgiveness must come from the One most offended in order for life and love to be restored. In every case of sin, it is God who is most hurt and offended by our refusal to love. It is His forgiveness that is central to any movement to love after love has been trampled under the muck of hatred.
The first step of humbling one self can be so difficult, but it is the only way to relief.
And he said unto them, Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature.
You ever feel like a frog? Frogs feel slow, low, ugly, puffy, drooped, pooped. I know. One told me. The frog feeling come when you want to be bright but feel dumb, when you want to share but are selfish, when you want to be thankful but feel resentment, when you want to be great but are small, when you care but are indifferent. Yes, at one time or another each of us has found himself on a lily pad, floating down the great river of life. Frightened and disgusted, we’re too froggish to budge.
Once upon a time there was a frog, only he wasn’t really a frog, he was a prince who looked and felt like a frog. The wicked witch had cast a spell on him and only the kiss of a beautiful maiden could save him. But since when do cute chicks kiss frogs? So there he sat, an unkissed prince in frog form. One day a beautiful maiden gathered him up and gave him a big smack! Zap!! There he was, a frog turned handsome prince and they lived happily after. So what’s the task of the Christian? Kissing frogs, of course!
John 4:15
The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water so that I won’t get thirsty and have to keep coming here to draw water.”
