Tag Archives: strength

Tuesday Morning Prayer

12 Wednesday Nov 2014

Posted by in prayer, unity

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The words of my morning devotional stood bold before me: “Unity doesn’t depend on outward conformity, but understanding hearts.” It was an apt description of my Tuesday morning prayer group.  Outwardly, we are quite different: different personalities, different backgrounds, different in many ways. But there is commonality that unifies us, and that is love for the Lord and belief in the power of prayer.

This is a ladies intercessory prayer group, about 24 strong most Tuesdays. Room 144 of my church is the designated prayer room.  This sanctuary for devoted prayer is a place saturated with worship and faith and there we find the sure presence of the Holy Spirit. We pray for one another, but our primary reason for gathering is to pray for others. As we feel prompted to pray, we approach the throne of grace with that petition. We try never to forget to pray for our nation and its healing. We anoint with oil and lay hands on any who comes to us struggling with a heavy load. If there is a special need from one who cannot be there, one of us will stand in for that person while the group forms a circle round about.

The uniqueness of our group is that most of us share no quantity of time outside the prayer room and some never see another member outside Tuesday morning. Yet, when we meet in Room 144, we are family. We care about one another and the need for concentrated prayer. As my morning devotional said, we join together with understanding hearts. It is this that makes us a solid unit.

 “Have fervent love for one another.” 1 Peter 4:8 NKJV

A Patient of Courage and Wit

22 Monday Sep 2014

Posted by in healthcare stories

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This is another story from patient representative days, first published in my December 1988 department report to physicians and hospital staff, then later in the Memphis Healthcare News. It is a smile maker and I hope you will enjoy it.

There are particular patient memories I hold fast because of a patient’s special courage, kindness, even wit. Mr. Simpson is one of those. In his 60’s, he had an extreme fear of contracting AIDS. When he was admitted to our hospital, his wife came armed with her own can of Lysol and as soon as he was in a room, she went about cleaning the bathroom and telephone again—just to be sure.

Mr. and Mrs. Simpson enjoyed one of those marriages that was sheer delight to observe. As we got to know each other, she told me of how they had both had previous marriages that came apart in the early 1940’s. She said her first husband left to get a haircut one day and just never came back. So the second husband, Mr. Simpson, made her go with him every time he went for a haircut for six years! Then she laughed that happy, throaty laugh of hers and you could picture how that happened over and over.

One day he decided he would leave a little test for the housekeepers by putting a tiny piece of paper in each corner of the bathroom. He chuckled telling me about it and said he was happy to say the housekeeper passed his test. His daughter added that the housekeeper should have left the scraps of paper with one word written on each: (1) I’ve (2) cleaned (3) this (4) bathroom.

After discharge, the patient would return for blood transfusions. One day, as the patient, his wife and I crossed paths in the lobby, we stopped for quick hugs and updates. Mr. Simpson said they had to hurry along because “I’ve just been given the blood of an 18-year-old and I want to get my wife right home.”

Those were some of the fun memories, but there is another memory that tugs at my heart and it happened shortly after his diagnosis of lung cancer. This beautiful human being, full of love and wit, called in all of his grandchildren to talk to them. Their ages ranged from twelve to mid-twenties. Mr. Simpson told them he wanted to be serious with them just for a minute. He explained his condition and that he knew his long years of smoking were to blame. He said, “Granddaddy should be up playing with you now and not lying in this bed. If I had taken care of my body, I would be doing that. So I want you to promise me, while each of you still has a healthy body, to respect it and take care of it. Don’t ever be foolish enough to put yourself where I am now.” With that, he dismissed the time for serious conversation and became, once again, the life of the party.

Certainly there were times when the Simpsons proved difficult for hospital staff as they struggled to hold on to the months of life he had left. But not a one of us would have put a single mark against such a courageous man and woman. This was a couple who helped us laugh when their hearts were breaking, who held close to each other and taught us lessons about love and commitment. If we had a hall with pictures of favorite patients, I’m pretty sure they would make the gallery by unanimous vote.

Saying Goodbye to Grandma

09 Tuesday Sep 2014

Posted by in death

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From 1984 to 1998, I worked closely with patients, family members and their health care providers at Methodist Healthcare in Memphis. For most of those years, I wrote the stories of some of the people I met in those patient rooms and critical care waiting rooms. The following is taken from a story published in 1989 and the name of the husband has been changed. 

Mr. Markle, the husband of a patient who died in our hospital two months ago, came to see me last week. He stopped by to let me know how he and his family were doing after the death of his wife. A very close family, they stayed near wife, mother and grandmother for those weeks before her death.

Mr. Markle said his wife told him the morning he brought her to the hospital that she would die there and she was ready to go. She had battled illness for 15 years.

Those weeks in the hospital the family would gather daily to share a devotional reading. The morning she died, the devotional was on death and the willingness to peacefully give to God sick and hurting loved ones.  One of the daughters remarked how significant the devotional was for that day.

Mr. Markle said the very hardest thing for him during his wife’s illness was a conversation he had with his five-year old granddaughter. With tears in his eyes, he told me this story:

“Papa, I love you and I love Grandma. And I love God most of all. Isn’t that right, Papa, to love God most of all?” “Yes, honey, it is.” “I know God doesn’t want Grandma to be sick and He will do what’s best for her.”

That little girl’s words paved the way for another tough conversation just days later when Mr. Markle decided to tell his two young granddaughters (the other was eight) about their grandmother’s imminent death.  He took the girls into one of our chapels and placed them on either side of him, then asked the youngest if she remembered what she had said about God doing what was best for their grandmother. She did. He told them that he thought God was going to take Grandma to be with Him so she wouldn’t have to be sick anymore. They nodded their heads and bravely accepted his words.

What Mr. Markle did for those little girls was a courageous gift. By telling them what the rest of the family knew, he showed respect for their need to know. That kept the little girls from feeling isolated and afraid, as often happens with children when loved ones die.

I was with the family the morning Mrs. Markle died—they called for me to come. What a privilege it was to be with them as they said their goodbyes. Though they were sad, there was a very strong sense of peace about each one. I saw, and the nursing staff saw, their powerful witness of faith. But most of all, two little girls witnessed their parents and grandfather’s way of dealing with death, and they understood that Grandma going home to God wasn’t the end, just a temporary separation.

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A Tribute to Betty Jo

29 Sunday Dec 2013

Posted by in Christian service

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I closed my eyes and could see her smiling and filled with joy.  She had made it home and she did it with courage and determination. Betty Jo Spencer Replogle completed her earth’s journey and at God’s perfect moment, He lifted her away from the world’s burdens and into heaven’s triumph.

“Jo” was the youngest of my mother’s seven siblings. Just eight years older than I, she seemed more a sister than aunt. Jo was born after my parents married and Daddy liked to tease her that he had been in the family longer than she had. That never failed to bring on one of her quick, easy laughs.

We all loved the laughter that peppered her conversations.  Jo had a great sense of humor even through tough times—and she had many. Her body knew several serious and unusual diseases, and for the most part, she coped with them as if they were nothing more than a common cold. Certainly, as with all of us, there were other tests in her life, but I believe it was the trials coupled with a faith which steadily grew that gave her the fortitude to cope as she did.

Jim and Dulcie Spencer’s children were, and are, all good people. The steadfast faith of my grandparents was imparted and rooted well in each one of their children. Jo lived out their legacy in her 78 years by remaining true to her own salvation story. She never forgot the way to God’s house and when she and her family were to be there; she never forgot how to trust in the Almighty.  She was a faithful daughter, wife, mother, and grandmother. Her concerns were at all times focused on her family and doing all she could to make their life good.

Thought she seemed too young to leave us, wishing her to stay, as sick as she was, would have been nothing but selfish. The last time I saw her, I knew she was making the transition home. I saw in her the same thing I saw in Mother before she died: she was in an intermediate place. Jo was still in her body, but her spirit had caught sight of heaven and eagerness drew her in that direction. Like Mother, it seemed in those last days when you spoke to Jo, you could call her back for a moment, but you couldn’t hold her for long. She saw Beulah Land. She saw the end of a long and hard struggle and a place where family awaited. She saw a place where Jesus beckoned.

By way of a recording made years ago, her youngest son sang “He Touched Me” at the funeral. The beginning words speak of being “shackled by a heavy burden” and soon declare, “then the hand of Jesus touched me, and now I am no longer the same.”  For Jo, her shackling was a body weighed down and rapidly failing. The hand of Jesus touched her as He drew her into heaven and there placed a crown on her head with the words, “Well done, my good and faithful servant.” And truly, her life is so longer the same; she has reached Heaven’s glory.

When Papa Jim, Jo’s father and my grandfather, died, Mama Dulcie noted in a journal, “Jim went home to be with Jesus today.” That’s what Betty Jo Spencer Replogle did on December 24, 2013. She went home to be with Jesus.

We thank You, Lord, for her time with us and for her witness to Your presence in her life. BETTY_JO_S_GRADUATION_PICTU

O Beulah land, sweet Beulah land!

As on thy highest mount I stand,

I look away across the sea

Where mansions are prepared for me

And view the shining glory shore

My heaven, my home forever more.

            John R. Sweney (1837–1899)

In the Presence of Jehovah

15 Friday Nov 2013

Posted by in music in healing

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The song, In the Presence of Jehovah, was written by Damaris Carbaugh (lyrics) and Becky and Geron David (music). When I hear it, I feel as if I am being escorted into the very throne room of God; it touches something inside me in a supernatural way. The words express the simple truth, that we can find healing for whatever our need when we get alone with God.

I went through a very tough time some years back. One of the ways God restored health to my body and joy to my soul was through this song. A very dear friend and pastor’s wife sang it to me on a Sunday afternoon, touching directly the anguish I was feeling and from that moment on it became my anthem. I found an old tape by our church choir with “In the Presence of Jehovah” and played it over and over as I took long walks. It was like a release to pent-up anxiety and pain. One of our church soloists sang it with what seemed to me more frequency in a shorter period of time than usual. And I sang it to myself, letting the melody and words take the edge off the sharp, piercing pain I was experiencing. My entire being was calmed and soothed by this music with a solid truth.

Because God fashioned us, He knows what will minister to our particular need. Without question, He gave this song to the writers that it might tell of Him and His grace. God laid it on Susan’s heart to sing so that His love could flow through her to me. He gave it again through Dianne’s sweet angel voice. Even the supplying of recorded music by our church choir before it was “my” church choir was by God’s hand. Over and over He drew me into a sacred space with Him and tended to my brokenness. It was (and is) like feeling the embrace of the Almighty.

In the presence of Jehovah,

God Almighty,

Prince of Peace.

Troubles vanish,

hearts are mended,

in the presence of the King.

This is just the chorus. Follow this link http://youtu.be/ZgQX4lDzpWg to hear the very meaningful verses and the beauty of the music.

In the Name of Jesus

29 Tuesday May 2012

Posted by in faith, support

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“The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’”  Matthew 25:40 (NIV)

I belong to a weekly women’s prayer group and often take copies of things I’ve found inspirational.  Though it seemed well received, something made me wonder if I was doing too much of it.  But then, within a couple of days of my wondering, two women in the group contacted me about my last hand-out, to tell me how it had ministered to them.  They both shared personal details of things they were praying over and described how the information had blessed them with insight.

So what caused me to wonder if I was overdoing?  I believe it was nothing but the evil one himself.  Satan is always quick to cause us to doubt ourselves.   He delights in breaking down the confidence of Christians in our ministry to others.

I thought about the woman who anointed our Lord’s head with nard when he was in another person’s home.  Surely it took boldness for her, as a woman in that day, to go there and minister to Jesus as she did.  She had to get past second-guessing herself and focus on the opportunity at hand – to love the Lord.

This is what we do when we reach out to others in the name of Jesus, even in the smallest of things.  We love Jesus by caring for others.

Prayer:  Jesus, thank You for providing reassurance when we question anything we do in Your name.   May our acts of kindness always be as unto You, the One we love and serve.

Vision of His Faithfulness

24 Thursday May 2012

Posted by in comfort

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You are mighty, O Lord, and your faithfulness surrounds you.  Psalm 89:8 (NIV) 

Righteousness and justice are the foundation of your throne; love and faithfulness go before you.  Blessed are those who have learned to acclaim you, who walk in the light of your presence, O Lord.  

Psalm 89:14 – 15 (NIV)                 

            My morning reading of Psalm 89 gave me a vision of Jesus.   When I read about faithfulness surrounding the Lord, I stopped and thought about how that would look.  I saw Him standing in power with a hand uplifted in righteousness.  I saw “faithfulness” like a soft hedge of clouds, gentle, but steady, all about Him.  Then as I read of the blessing of acclaiming Him, I imagined His redeemed ones lauding Him with praise, worshiping all around.  Finally, I thought about walking the pathway of His light right into the throne room of the Almighty.   It was one of the cherished moments when the Holy Spirit takes my time with God into a higher realm, a place of joyful revelation.

            I determined to think on this vision all day, to center it in my being.  I knew there was power in what the Holy Spirit had revealed.  It would serve as a reminder that when I am troubled, to envision my Lord standing with faithfulness encircling Him, with absolutely no break in His commitment to me.  When the weight of this world is heavy upon me, I can choose instead to lift my voice in praise and watch for His blessings to pour forth.   I can remember I have a choice:  to tarry in the darkness or step confidently into the Light that is His presence.

Content In Whatever State

21 Monday Feb 2011

Posted by in forgiveness

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The apostle Paul said he had learned to be content in whatever state he was in.   He said to be anxious for nothing, but give thanks in everything and when we have that attitude, we will know the peace of God.  I knew a wonderful example of that.  Her name was Martha.

I worked for a physician and Martha was a patient there.  A very gracious lady and one known for her baking, she would often bring to us her specialty, a five-flavor pound cake.  It could brighten any busy day.

Martha had grown up in an affluent home, but her married life was one of ups and downs.  Her husband was given to taking great investment risks, some said all with the money she had inherited.   A time came when he risked too much and they lost everything they had.  This kind lady lost her family home – the one she had lived in all her life – and everything in it.

Not long after their plight became public knowledge, she called to say she needed to come in for an examination.  She said they wanted to cash in a life insurance policy and it required a physician’s statement that she was no longer able to bear children.  They had grown children and the policy secured the money for their inheritance, but also for any future heirs.  Their children had released the binder on the inheritance and now she needed proof that there would be no danger of a future heir’s protest.    Martha was approaching 70.   We saw it as insult upon insult.

We were nervous about her visit.  It was a small town and there were no secrets so she would come knowing we knew of their severe loss.  How did we greet her?  Pretend nothing was wrong?  Hope we could just fake it through to help her preserve dignity?  And the terrible offense of having to submit her body for a pointless examination had us all riled.

The day came for her visit and I can still remember how tense we all were.  We loved Martha and were concerned about this ultimate embarrassment.  But as soon as she was in the door, we knew we had far under-estimated her.  She came in laughing at such a ridiculous request by the insurance company; she just thought it was all very funny.  And with her came one of her famous cakes.  She apologized that it was a little lopsided but she had borrowed the mixer and oven of a friend and was unfamiliar with both.  She made the remark as if it was quite normal to produce a cake in this manner.  And, Martha’s husband was with her.  There was no tension between them; rather, she seemed perfectly delighted with his company.

Some in the town mumbled that Martha had lost her mind since no one mentally intact could behave as she did in view of all she had lost.  But I never saw that.  I saw a godly woman who was living out the scriptures, a woman who loved and trusted God.  She was refusing to live as the world would choose for her.  Martha had obviously forgiven her husband and accepted the tremendous blow to her life.  She walked on in faith and in practice, with the peace that comes from believing God’s word.  She is one of my spiritual giants.