Two Heart Attacks

Because marriage makes “two people one flesh” (Genesis 2:24), what happens to my husband affects me. Whatever happens to me, affects him. We share our lives, and this past week that sharing has become more distinctive in several ways.

For one thing, the hospital nutritionist said that his diet was pretty good, but suggested he follow the Mediterranean Diet, good to promote a healthy heart. It makes sense that both of us eat the same things, so I’m also following the same diet. Already, we have both dropped a few pounds and feel really good.

I’m also seeing that his heart attack is my heart attack, but not the physical kind. God is using what happened to my husband to show me how to improve some of my heart’s attitudes. One of them involves submission.

I’ve often said that submission means being free from the tyranny of always needing to have my own way. However, being a “kept woman” who does not work outside the home and most of the time has freedom to plan her own day, by default, I usually have a lot of freedom to make my own choices. This is not in a sinful sense since God overrides and is my constant Guide who directs my decisions, but unless He tells me otherwise, my days are routinely predictable.

All that has changed. I am now chauffeur and errand runner. Every day brings trips, errands or appointments that I normally would be involved in, as well as lifting, carrying and so on, all things that my husband would usually do for himself.

Normal-me would find this role irritating to say the least. After years of being alone most of the day, even having someone around all the time takes adjustment. But the heart attack, both his and mine, has an effect of changing normal. I’m noticing an unexpected lack of feisty in me, a surprising willingness to go along with this without impatience or annoyance.

Some might think, Of course. You should be darn glad you still have your husband, glad that he is here for you to help. They are right, and I am, but I am also aware of my own selfish and proud heart. I like to decide my agenda and plan my activities. I like to pace myself, think of what comes next. Now all of that is impossible, and I know without a doubt that apart from grace, I couldn’t accept these changes, at least not easily.

Today’s devotional verse is 1 Peter 5:5. It says, “Likewise, you younger people, submit yourselves to your elders. Yes, all of you be submissive to one another, and be clothed with humility, for ‘God resists the proud, but gives grace to the humble.’”

This tells me the reason I need to submit to my circumstances. It is not only to be helpful and generous with my time and energy, but also that pride does not have an opportunity to interfere with grace. If I refuse submission, I would dearly miss out on a great blessing from God.

My husband needs me right now, but I know how much I need grace all the time. This verse shows me that if I, in stubborn pride, refused to yield to his needs (even in my thoughts) and insist on having my own way, I would cut myself off from the grace of God and nothing gives me a greater horror. I see grace as God revealing Jesus Christ to me in such a way that I am changed to be like Him. Apart from grace and apart from seeing Jesus, I would be stuck in the tyranny, stuck in the darkness of a selfish heart. Again, the thought of losing grace is a great horror.

Bob’s heart will heal, but forever bear a scar. That is the way of a heart attack. My heart will never be the same either. That is the way of grace. Through my heart attack, the old me is losing something in it’s struggle to have control. That is a good thing.

It also puts a different spin on Psalm 73:26 which says, “My flesh and my heart fail; but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” Today, the new me rejoices that the Lord is the strength of my heart. Because that is true, the normal me is failing but He is stepping up to take His place and be what my heart needs.

Weakness is a good thing...

Every time I hear someone talk about a “thorn” in their side, they are talking about an annoying person that they have to live or work with. They complain about the irritation and consider themselves a victim. However, yet the source of the label “thorn in the flesh” has far more behind it than being irritated.

This saying comes from 2 Corinthians 12:7-10. I’ve often thought this passage contains one of the most important yet unknown and unpracticed reality in the Christian life.

It says: “To keep me from becoming conceited because of these surpassingly great revelations, there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

The Bible doesn’t identify Paul’s thorn. It could have been a physical problem, but some think that it is a demonic being used by Satan to influence someone Paul knew, maybe an enemy of the Gospel. Whatever it was, God allowed that “thorn” to be there for a reason.

Most of us, me included, want the thorns out of our lives and, like Paul, ask God to remove them. I’m almost certain that most of us miss the point (no pun intended) of what God is doing. He hasn’t made a mistake by putting us in a tough situation or with an antagonistic person. In stead, He wants us to learn an amazing reality; weakness is a good thing.

Before I became a Christian, I was capable of handling anything, and if a problem was beyond my abilities, stubborn strength saw me through. The experience of a failed marriage knocked me off my perch. In that weakness, I was ready to at least listen to God.

At first, He simply loved me, but over the next years and to this day, He keeps showing me that being weak puts me into a unique place. Here, in weakness, I can experience grace, power, and strength from Him.

In Paul’s life, the thorn was to keep him from exalting himself because of the amazing things God was showing him. My thorns are here to keep me from relying on my human strengths. I’m hard to convince, even though Jesus said, “Apart from Me, you can do nothing.”

That “nothing” is about the will of God and things of eternal value. I can still write a story, paint a picture, figure out a problem, and balance my cheque book, but I cannot accomplish anything that changes the eternal destiny of someone, or makes me more like Christ apart from His grace and power. This happens only when my strength gets shelved, made weak, put out of the way. Then He is not hindered and can do His work through me.

I’ve learned that thorns in the side have a purpose. Fighting them means I could be fighting God. Instead of begging for relief, I’m learning to seek His strength. What does He want to do with me? How can His power be seen? He will work and He will use me, but not through my strengths but my weaknesses. This is a huge lesson that many Christians never learn. All of us want to be strong and enjoy that feeling of strength and confidence. We don’t like being weak.

That points to another part of the reality that is not in the verses, but it is nonetheless true. It is about how I feel when God’s grace is sufficient and He is giving me His strength. While others tell me that God has used me, I’m mostly unaware of that. All I know is how weak I feel, how unable I am. Logically, if God is giving me strength in my weakness, it seems I should feel His power surging through me, as the verses indicate, but that is not how it works.

We walk by faith, not by sight. We think the power of God in us will produce great self-confidence, the same kind of self-confidence that our own abilities give us. The great secret is that when I am weak, I feel weak, and if in that weakness I obey God, then His strength shines forth, but I don’t even see it.

I’ve assumed He has good reasons for doing things this way, but the only one I can think of is that the grace He pours on me in weakness is for other people, and not for me anyway.

Update: Bob felt well enough to go to church yesterday, but he noticed that singing took a lot of energy and had to mostly "mouth the words." He also noticed that talking was tiring, and even though being there blessed him, he understands that he needs to limit social interaction for a little while. This is going to be difficult for him. Even though the damage is not extensive, the doctor said his heart will take 4-6 weeks to heal.

Pefection in old age

“When Abram was ninety-nine years old, the Lord appeared to Abram and said to him, ‘I am Almighty God; walk before Me and be blameless’” (Genesis 17:1)

As I watch seniors (those older than I am) in their walk with God, it appears that some of them ‘retire’ at some point. They drift away from an active faith and settle into an unhappy gripe about old age, lack of hair, teeth, and mobility, and yearn for the good old days. This bothers me. It is part of the reason for my goal to become a “sweet little old lady” (meaning someone who happily trusts the Lord and is a blessing to everyone).

Maybe I’ve been too hard on them. Someday, particularly if I reach ninety-nine years, I might have aching joints, no hair or teeth, and lots of reasons to just quit. I might even wish my life would soon be over so I could get out of this present discomfort and enjoy the ‘no more pain and sorrow’ of eternity. While I don’t want to be like that, I do understand how it happens.

In contrast, Abram, at ninety-nine, was being challenged to walk with God blamelessly. This man, who had been promised a son, was no April colt. His wife was past the age of child-bearing, and yet that son was not yet born. They were old, not nearly as strong as they had been in their youth, yet God asked Abram to keep going, to be mature, to walk perfectly.

While I first thought about the maturity that should come with age, my devotional book reminded me of the perfection that is found in weakness, even the physical weakness that goes with being ninety-nine. Abram was asked to stay close to God, not because he had matured, but because he was now weak and totally unable to do anything in his own strength. Someone once told me that is exactly the place where God wants all of us, regardless of our age.

So God keeps rounding out my definition of ‘sweet little old lady.’ This time the emphasis is on ‘little’ at least in the sense of ‘little’ in power and ability. As God says in 2 Corinthians 12, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.”

At this point in my life, this is an encouragement. I’ve learned that lesson many times. I know that when I am confident that “I can do it”—whatever I do will not be in the power of the Lord or have lasting significance. I’m learning, like Paul, to “boast in my infirmities” for it is then “that the power of Christ may rest upon me . . . For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

Right now, my joints ache only a little, my hair and teeth are still intact, and I do have some ambitions, but none of those things are important. The world might retire people at certain ages, but the story of Abram shows me that God doesn’t have the same retirement plan. He will not put me out to pasture if I want to stay in the harness, unless of course I insist on pulling the load all by myself. I know the reality of being strong in weakness, and trust that the weakness of growing older will not diminish my capacity to serve God. He supplies the strength, and with Abram, I want to walk before Him and be blameless, not lose interest and just quit.

This spring, maybe I'll plant another cedar. . .

Someone who has ‘borderline personality disorder” told me yesterday that the “cure” takes years of hard work. She described BPD like this: “When someone is growing up it is as if they missed grasping how to cope with life in certain areas. Then, when they encounter issues in those areas, they revert to doing what they did when they were children.”

Not only does a BPD person not know they are acting like a child (after all, a child doesn’t know), they cannot fathom any other way to act. This is confusing to them and worse for their care givers. They must learn new skills, first done by rote and then practice until it clicks in that this response works better than that one.

She added, “Expect at least two years, and only if your granddaughter is willing to work hard and stick with the program. Even though she will live with this the rest of her life, she will get better.”

Oddly, knowing this is better than guessing and didn’t seem like bad news. I know God can produce a miracle (and those always seem to come as a surprise, even when we pray for them), but this news settles me into the long-term. It will not be easy though.

This morning I read from Hosea 14. God says, “I will be like the dew to Israel; he shall grow like the lily, and lengthen his roots like Lebanon.”

I know little about dew except that it makes our grass wet in the morning. My devotional book says that dew is vital to the life and growth of trees and flowers. Sources on the Internet add that dew is particularly important in times of drought, and that some plants seem more able to collect moisture from dew than others.

I know lilies. They grow best in groups, respond well to ample feeding, and have one of the loveliest blooms in my garden. They also multiply quite rapidly.

My only cedar is a dwarf globe. I know the taller variety grows and is famous in Lebanon. I also understand that their roots are dense and grow rapidly too. Normally, nothing grows well in their shade, but at least one person claims that their lilies do fine under their cedars. My devotional book says of this link, “ . . . frail beauty and massive strength united . . . “

God promises to be like dew to His people, my supply in dry times, and my supply as I wait every morning for Him, as I am like the plants that collect the dew. With His blessing, I will not only survive but grow. I already know that in my weakness, like a frail lily, I have His strength.

The Bible does not say if Hosea was a gardener, but God gave him this lovely word picture, a combination of dew, lilies and cedar roots, to remind me that no matter what lies ahead, He will supply all that I need.