The Silence of a Hundred Days by Shelly Wampler

Today I think about remembering. It's deeper than finding the remote or," did I miss an appointment?. "

Aging makes me think of all the things I've been through that mean so very much to me. 

Things that were life changing can be taken away now. 

Memory can slip away and never be found. 

Looking at a photograph of someone you don't know but have heard about..except the person, is you. 

Forgetting the names of strangers at a meeting takes on a whole new meaning when you know they were named by you and taught how to read and tie their shoes. 

Knowing how I loved someone and after 7 years, the faces are still clear, and the voices still speak in the silence of a hundred days. 

To remember causes pain and to forget leaves scars on my heart.

Posted May 23, 2017 by permission of the author

A Stroke of Faith by Mark Moore

Guest Blogger Mark Moore

I had always believed that I was in charge of my life, and I had been doing a heck of a good job of it. I was a successful businessman, loving husband and involved father, dedicated amateur athlete, and active member of my local church. However, everything changed on a beautiful Sunday morning in May 2007, when I was hit in quick succession by two nearly fatal strokes at the age of 46. Suddenly, I was no longer in control of anything.

After spending nearly a month in a medically-induced coma, I awoke to find myself a helpless invalid lying in a hospital bed, unable to lift my head, pierced by IVs, tubes, and monitoring devices, and suffering from a hole in my skull from what turned out to be life-saving surgery.

I wondered if I would ever be able to live a life like the one before my strokes and questioned whether I’d ever be able to walk, speak, or tie my shoes again. At first, I was devastated that this had happened to me, but I eventually realized that this was an opportunity to rearrange my priorities and focus on the things that were important to me. From then on, I vowed to never take my family, friends, health, or faith for granted ever again.

Now, 10 years later, I have made an almost-near recovery due to the expertise of medical professionals, extensive rehabilitation, and what I call the 3 F’s (family, faith, and friends)—even having completed a 5k race one year after my strokes. While my life will never fully return to pre-stroke normality, I have chosen to dedicate my life to philanthropy, my family, my renewed relationship with God and his plan, educating others about stroke awareness and prevention, and inspiring those who have suffered similar events. I am proud to be a regional ambassador for the American Stroke Association and the American Heart Association, through which I have been blessed to be able to share my story and educate people about strokes.

The 10^th anniversary of my stroke is this month, coincidently falling during American Stroke Month. My new book, A Stroke of Faith: A Stroke Survivor’s Story of a Second Chance at Living a Life of Significance, published this month, and tells the story of my strokes and recovery journey. I hope that it will inspire others who have suffered similar afflictions and empower them to fully commit to their journey of recovery, even if it seems impossible at the time.

Mark Moore is a philanthropist and successful businessman. Along with his wife Brenda, a former nurse, Mark has established the Mark and Brenda Moore and Family Foundation, through which he supports advances in healthcare, education, culture and the arts, and Christian evangelism. Prior to engaging full time in his philanthropic work, Mark was Chief Operating Officer and co-owner of Segovia, Inc., a leading provider of global internet protocol services to the US Defense Department. Mark is also the Mid-Atlantic Ambassador for the American Stroke Association and the author of the memoir A Stroke of Faith, which is now on sale.

Now retired, Mark spends his days educating people about stroke prevention and awareness, sharing his inspirational story with those who have suffered strokes and other traumatic ailments, and giving back to his community.

In A Stroke of Faith, you’ll read about:
•       The moving story of the COO and co-founder of a multi-billion dollar company who stared down fear as he had to learn to write a check again, tie his shoes, and even walk.
•       How Mark turned to God for a deeper understanding of his hardships.
•       Mark’s Stroke Recovery Guide, where Mark shares key insights that helped him through his recovery.
•       How Mark’s stroke affected his wife and two children, and while there were many challenges along the way, it ultimately brought them closer together as a family.
•       How to be loving friends, care-takers and encouragers to those who are recovering from a stroke, or serious medical condition.
•       The story of how one man accepted that through this test of his very life, he was given a second chance to give back to his family, his friends, his community in ways he never dreamed possible.

More about Mark and A Stroke of Faith can be found at www.astrokeoffaith.com and on Facebook and Twitter @AuthorMarkMoore. @AuthorMarkMoore.

Be Not Afraid - It's Just Boxes. It's Not Your Mama

My mother will soon be 89. Her cognitive function has been slipping sometimes slowly, sometimes rapidly. It is harder and more challenging for her to remember how to take a shower, how to fix breakfast, when to take her medicine, to distinguish between the phone and the TV remote. My sisters and I planned a three-week visit. I came from Georgia ten days early to give Kelli who lives near mother and deals with her increasing dementia every day. Then Shannon came so we could brighten the dark winter month for Mama and visit with one another, something that does not happen frequently. Also, we could talk face-to-face. All of us about what is coming. The need for change, for more support, for increased assistance in daily living.

It’s funny how God is always there before us and has us just where we are needed when the need is greatest. The day before I flew in, Kelli took Mama to the emergency room. Kelli and her husband canceled their retreat, and the three of us took shifts at the hospital for the next ten days, making sure Mama was never alone. She was so sick that the last two days she was hospitalized, Mama did not know why she didn’t remember the week before, at all. She didn’t remember any of the touch-and-go moments of pneumonia, enlarged heart, kidney failure. In a way, it was good not to recall the pain. The struggle to breathe. Not understanding why she couldn’t just get out of the bed and go home – sometimes to her apartment; sometimes to Texas where she grew up and raised her family but had not lived for years. Confusion, fear, not knowing where she was or why she was there.

We three sisters texted, emailed, talked on the phone, and concluded: now was the time. Mama was no longer safe in her apartment. She needed skilled nursing when she left the hospital. Mama wasn’t even strong enough nor cognitively functional enough to go to assisted living. She needed to be in a nursing home. Shannon arrived the day we moved her to her new environment. The visiting we did the next ten days was mostly over emptying her apartment and deciding what of her belongings should go where. It was overwhelming. It was amiable. It was hard. Praise God we had already planned to be together. As she asked years ago, we made the decision, even though she couldn't. Mama needed more, and we could provide no less.

Since we left, Kelli and Mama have been on a rollercoaster ride of emotion, confusion, and realizing just how right the move was. Will she recover her cognitive function? Maybe, but not enough to allow her to live independently. Shannon, the geriatric nurse practitioner, returned to remote support – always a challenging role, especially for Mama’s baby. I, the oldest, staring down 70 with a compromised immune system, came home with acute bronchitis. Mama has been on a roller coaster of emotions with her sock monkey, Buddy, always by her side.

A month later, my gracious, God-given husband, made a weekend round trip and brought home boxes and boxes and boxes. I watched the stacks of photo albums and genealogy files go to the attic, dishes to the dining room, linens, quilts, furniture … And as our wise and thoughtful son-in-law who came to help unpack the truck was leaving, he said, “Nana, remember, it’s just boxes. It’s not your Mama.”

With that, I think I can start one box at a time.

God abundantly supplies the needs of his children. He promises fountains, springs, rivers of water to provide for an overwhelmed and parched people. He reminds them. 

It’s just boxes. It’s not your Mama.

"I am your God ... Listen to me in silence … Renew your strength … Each one helps the other, saying to one another, “Take courage.” … do not fear, for I am with you, do not be afraid, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my victorious right hand … 

It's just boxes. It's not your Mama. 

"For I, the LORD your God, hold your right hand; it is I who say to you, “Do not fear, I will help you.” … When the poor and needy seek water, and there is none, and their tongue is parched with thirst, I the LORD will answer them, I the God of Israel will not forsake them. I will open rivers on the bare heights, and fountains in the midst of the valleys, I will make the wilderness a pool of water, and the dry land springs of water… 

It's just boxes. It's not your Mama.

"I am your God; I will renew your strength … Do not be afraid … I will strengthen you … Do not fear; I will help you." (Isaiah 41)

Remember. It’s just boxes. It’s not your Mama.

A Healthy Fear

A Healthy Fear

Abel’s flocks spread across the fields

Grew fat without effort

Cain toiled as his father warned

Dependent on sun and rain.

God was pleased with the fat

But not the grain

God smiled on Abel

But not on brother Cain.

Without fear of any kind

Cain killed Abel

Because God’s smile was turned

Toward his brother.

God sent him to wander

The earth abroad

No fields, no grain,

Nothing he knew how to do.

From Cain his sons learned

Wandering and emptiness

Hatred and how to kill

Yet still God protected them.

Cities instead of fields

Tools of copper and bronze

Music to cover the pain

Of the mark of Cain.

God gave Adam another son

Seth carried on with Abel’s herds and flocks

Seth carried on with Cain’s fields and grain

Son after son followed Adam’s sin

God touched the heart of each child

Giving to each another chance

To redeem his people

Or at least himself.

Finally after Methuselah who would be

The longest lived of all Adam’s kin

Who taught Abraham about

The God of his father Enoch.

Enoch walked in habitual fellowship

With God against whom Adam, Cain,

And those who followed sinned.

Enoch lived in reverent fear and obedience.

Not afraid or terrified, not quaking

Sure he would follow the sins of his fathers

But in awe and respect, obedient and

Seeking to please, walked in fellowship.

Enoch was not barred from Eden,

Enoch was not sent to wander the earth,

Enoch taught his son to love and fear

Not in dread but in assurance of redemption.

Enoch walked with God

Enoch was not found among men

Because God took him away

To be home with him.

Where do you think

Noah learned what he needed to know

To please God despite the depravity

And wickedness.

To walk in the quiet of the garden

Naked and unhidden

Not perfect, but knowing

How to live in fear without being afraid. 

Sometimes you should be afraid - of yourself

I knew I was in trouble. We were supposed to go to youth group and then to Sunday evening worship. We decided since I had the car and none of our parents were going to church that night, we could go downtown and cruise Polk Street where the airmen from Amarillo Air Force Base hung out on the corners. Somehow someone noticed. Daddy heard. He was standing at the front door when I got home. Something in his voice and the way he watched me as I walked from the car to the door told me he knew.

“Where have you been?”

How could I cut my losses? “We took Elizabeth home.” Not a complete lie. We did take her home after we went cruising. And I didn’t call, and we weren’t at the church. And I did not just tell the truth.

Daddy just held out his hand for my key.

Why do we cover ourselves with little white lies, not quite the whole truth, when we know we have done wrong, and the lie just compounds wrong doing? I knew from experience that telling the truth always mitigated punishment. I knew honesty often left just consequences, which were bad enough. 

Would I have kept my keys instead of having to call my friends and tell them I couldn’t drive to school or to the football game Friday night? Could I have still gone to the game? Maybe, maybe not. But I was scared. And my lie just made things worse. 

While certainly not like eating of the tree of good and evil, or lying to the omniscient God, my fear was real. Palpable. Overpowering. I knew.

“I was afraid because I was naked,” Adam said. No, he was afraid because he was caught. Only one rule. Temptation. Just say “NO” I want to yell at Eve. Then at Adam. Just tell God the truth!

⁹ But the Lord God called to Adam, and said to him, “Where are you?” ¹⁰ He said, “I heard the sound of You [walking] in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked; so I hid myself.”¹¹ God said, “Who told you that you were naked? Have you eaten [fruit] from the tree of which I commanded you not to eat?” (Genesis 3:9-11 AMP)

It seems easier to make excuses instead of saying I caved under peer pressure. Still, the car and the choice was mine. This is a healthy fear. It should prompt right decisions, like the truth. It seems so simple. Righteousness is always rewarded. The truth will always out. And yet. . .

³² And you will know the truth [regarding salvation], and the truth will set you free [from the penalty of sin].” (John 8:32 AMP)

³ For [civil] authorities are not a source of fear for [people of] good behavior, but for [those who do] evil. Do you want to be unafraid of authority? Do what is good and you will receive approval and commendation. ⁴ For he is God’s servant to you for good. But if you do wrong, [you should] be afraid; for he does not carry the [executioner’s] sword for nothing. He is God’s servant, an avenger who brings punishment on the wrongdoer. ⁵ Therefore one must be subject [to civil authorities], not only to escape the punishment [that comes with wrongdoing], but also as a matter of principle [knowing what is right before God]. (Romans 13:3-5 AMP)

Sometimes you should be afraid. Not of God, but of yourself.

Do not be afraid - God hears your pain

I went to the post office to get a money order to mail, along with a letter to Zach, barely making it through the door before it shut at 2:00, I was the last person in the long line. I couldn't help but notice that the post-people on duty were both likely immigrants -- an Asian woman and a dark-skinned man who could have been Muslim or Indian. I wondered how they felt today, with the uproar about immigrants.

From my Facebook Friend, Fellow Early Childhood Specialist, and Writer:

I just shared this on my private page for those who "love troubled souls." But I wanted to share it here as well because it is too good not to share with everyone.

Do I ever have a story for you!

Yesterday was one of the hardest. I began to identify with Mary who suffered along with Jesus at the cross. Though Zach is a far cry from Jesus, it does seem to be mothers who must be strongest and refuse to turn away from their child's agony. Heartbreaking.

When I stepped up to the counter, the dark-skinned man spoke with an accent that was obviously from India. He asked how I was, twice, and I gave a polite reply and asked how he was doing. He grinned from ear to ear, pointed to the ceiling and said, "As long as I have such a blessed relationship to Him, nothing else matters. I am happy!" I got a tear in my eye and told him that this was a blessing to hear, that I was getting a money order to send to my son who was incarcerated just two weeks ago.

And that is when business stopped, and we had church.

The man turned over my receipt and wrote, "Be still and know that I am God."* And then, he wrote "Psalm 41" -- and said I must read this. Then he said, "Wait, no. Did you go to school in this country?" And I said yes. And he said, "Then you can probably read the whole psalm quickly right now." He pulled it up on his iPhone. (Keep in mind he is a postman behind the counter after an incredibly busy day, and I am just a customer.) And so I did, and I got teary-eyed and thanked him. He assured me all would be well.

We finished up, and I went to the lobby to fill out the rest of the address, wiping at tears. And then I heard a disembodied voice coming out of the ceiling or air vent or somewhere say, "Please do not cry, Lady. Everything will be okay."

I looked up and joked, "God, is that you?" Then the Post Office Prophet stepped out from behind a door and said, "I also want to tell you to read Psalm 121. No wait, I will recite it for you." And so with hands outstretched palms up toward the ceiling he began,

" I lift up my eyes to the mountains—
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord,
the Maker of heaven and earth...."

Then he lifted up his hand for a high five and left me with the words, "You must tell you son to just get in the boat and let God guide him the right direction. And everything will be okay."

I'm a puddle of tears by this point, but manage to say, "My son was a commercial fisherman. The boat picture will resonate with him."

I don't know about you, but my experience at the post office (ours is crazy busy and always long lines) doesn't generally come with a psalm, a sermon, and a blessing. I knew that I knew that I knew that I knew..... God was using his megaphone through this happy, willing vessel -- to speak personal encouragement to my heart.

*"Be still, and know that I am God." Psalm 46:10

To my friend:

God is our refuge and strength,
    an ever-present help in trouble.
2 Therefore we will not fear Psalm 46:1-2

Jesus Draw Me

 

KeithandKristyn Getty

  

Do not be afraid - I am God Almighty

Read Genesis 35:9-20

“… from the voice of God to a baby’s cry and a mother’s last words.” From Warren Wiersbe Be Authentic

God appeared to Jacob and blessed him, and gave him a new name, Israel. "I am God Almighty and a nation and a company of nations shall spring from you (from Reuben to Benjamin - twelve sons, twelve tribes), and kings shall spring from you (David and Jesus)."

The midwife said, “Do not be afraid you will have another son.” As her soul was departing (for she died) she named her son Ben-o-ni which Jacob changed to Benjamin. Springing from Rachel's hard travail to Jacob's right hand.

Rachel, the beloved of Jacob, bore him two sons. Joseph, whose brothers would betray him and sell him into slavery and tell his father he died. Benjamin, who would be the ransom for his brothers' sins and through whom Joseph would repay those brothers with kindness and salvation from famine and death.

We never know how our story will be written. 

But, when we accept the free gift of salvation purchased through the death cry of his one and only Son, Jesus, God blesses each of us with a new name, “Christian."

Do not be afraid, your pain can also bring others to the foot of the cross. 

Prayer: Father, may I take joy in your call to not be afraid. May I take joy in the life I am called to live through the love of your son, Jesus. May I rejoice in each soul, known and unknown, that see you and recognize your love and salvation through my pain and my living out of my faith, no matter what tomorrow may hold. May your Son-rise shine down on the earth and bring peace among us. Bring me finally to Heaven to eternally sing your glory and love. Amen

"No Filter Needed" photo by Kiri Strouse, Williamston, South Carolina