how do people do this without faith?
Psalm 91
1 He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High
Shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.
2 I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress;
My God, in Him I will trust.”
3 Surely He shall deliver you from the snare of the fowler
And from the perilous pestilence.
4 He shall cover you with His feathers,
And under His wings you shall take refuge;
His truth shall be your shield and buckler.
5 You shall not be afraid of the terror by night,
Nor of the arrow that flies by day,
6 Nor of the pestilence that walks in darkness,
Nor of the destruction that lays waste at noonday.
7 A thousand may fall at your side,
And ten thousand at your right hand;
But it shall not come near you.
8 Only with your eyes shall you look,
And see the reward of the wicked.
9 Because you have made the Lord, who is my refuge,
Even the Most High, your dwelling place,
10 No evil shall befall you,
Nor shall any plague come near your dwelling;
11 For He shall give His angels charge over you,
To keep you in all your ways.
12 In their hands they shall bear you up,
Lest you dash your foot against a stone.
13 You shall tread upon the lion and the cobra,
The young lion and the serpent you shall trample underfoot.
14 “Because he has set his love upon Me, therefore I will deliver him;
I will set him on high, because he has known My name.
15 He shall call upon Me, and I will answer him;
I will be with him in trouble;
I will deliver him and honor him.
16 With long life I will satisfy him,
And show him My salvation.”
Shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.
2 I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress;
My God, in Him I will trust.”
3 Surely He shall deliver you from the snare of the fowler
And from the perilous pestilence.
4 He shall cover you with His feathers,
And under His wings you shall take refuge;
His truth shall be your shield and buckler.
5 You shall not be afraid of the terror by night,
Nor of the arrow that flies by day,
6 Nor of the pestilence that walks in darkness,
Nor of the destruction that lays waste at noonday.
7 A thousand may fall at your side,
And ten thousand at your right hand;
But it shall not come near you.
8 Only with your eyes shall you look,
And see the reward of the wicked.
9 Because you have made the Lord, who is my refuge,
Even the Most High, your dwelling place,
10 No evil shall befall you,
Nor shall any plague come near your dwelling;
11 For He shall give His angels charge over you,
To keep you in all your ways.
12 In their hands they shall bear you up,
Lest you dash your foot against a stone.
13 You shall tread upon the lion and the cobra,
The young lion and the serpent you shall trample underfoot.
14 “Because he has set his love upon Me, therefore I will deliver him;
I will set him on high, because he has known My name.
15 He shall call upon Me, and I will answer him;
I will be with him in trouble;
I will deliver him and honor him.
16 With long life I will satisfy him,
And show him My salvation.”
walking through the storm.
I remember the moments of our battle so clearly. The diagnosis. The ride home. The first visits. The first throw-downs. The list is actually quite long.
One thing I knew right away. This wasn't in the doctor's hands. They meant well and they were great, but they were men and I didn't have to have them. I needed God.
In the moments following my husband's diagnosis, I let my Bible fall open as I often do to see what God would show me. Psalm 31.
What profit is there in my bones, if I go down to the pit?
I really felt that I had my faith and my answer in that sentence. I am good to God while I am here, living for Him.
The Lord spoke to me audibly in November of that year: "Trust Me with Aaron like you trust Me with you."
That was a show-stopper. I didn't. I didn't trust God with Aaron. Of course now I have to ask myself if I should've, but I can't argue with God and I couldn't ask Aaron to be here either. To keep doing what he was doing at the end wasn't a victory. I expected his healing, prayed for his healing, fasted for his healing, but I couldn't hold him here and why would I want to? Earth sucks. Heaven or Earth. Ummm, Heaven.
How selfish would I be to hold him here?
What I keep coming back to now is that we got a lot of time when "science" said we might not have much.
We squeezed a lot of life into those years. There isn't a single thing on the life-experience spectrum that my husband lacked. Youth, sports, fun, education, promotions, marriage, children, loss, struggle, abundance, faith-walks, joy, peace, persecution... And one really cool thing is that, because of the struggle, we had a great marriage. We trusted each other. We fought together like many couples don't have to. We learned to communicate without words and hear each other. We didn't waste time on stupid little matters like so many do (and we did early on). We learned at 28 & 29 what many take decades to grab. Maybe that makes the loss harder, but it makes our time sweeter. He needed me and I needed him. We knew who we were to each other. And the focus was never, ever on the problem. Always on the solution.
One thing I knew right away. This wasn't in the doctor's hands. They meant well and they were great, but they were men and I didn't have to have them. I needed God.
In the moments following my husband's diagnosis, I let my Bible fall open as I often do to see what God would show me. Psalm 31.
What profit is there in my bones, if I go down to the pit?
I really felt that I had my faith and my answer in that sentence. I am good to God while I am here, living for Him.
The Lord spoke to me audibly in November of that year: "Trust Me with Aaron like you trust Me with you."
That was a show-stopper. I didn't. I didn't trust God with Aaron. Of course now I have to ask myself if I should've, but I can't argue with God and I couldn't ask Aaron to be here either. To keep doing what he was doing at the end wasn't a victory. I expected his healing, prayed for his healing, fasted for his healing, but I couldn't hold him here and why would I want to? Earth sucks. Heaven or Earth. Ummm, Heaven.
How selfish would I be to hold him here?
What I keep coming back to now is that we got a lot of time when "science" said we might not have much.
We squeezed a lot of life into those years. There isn't a single thing on the life-experience spectrum that my husband lacked. Youth, sports, fun, education, promotions, marriage, children, loss, struggle, abundance, faith-walks, joy, peace, persecution... And one really cool thing is that, because of the struggle, we had a great marriage. We trusted each other. We fought together like many couples don't have to. We learned to communicate without words and hear each other. We didn't waste time on stupid little matters like so many do (and we did early on). We learned at 28 & 29 what many take decades to grab. Maybe that makes the loss harder, but it makes our time sweeter. He needed me and I needed him. We knew who we were to each other. And the focus was never, ever on the problem. Always on the solution.
