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DID YOU KNOW?

Posted on by Linda Cobourn

This week’s post is brought to you by Sandy Vidro. Thanks for sharing with us, Sandy!

He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together. Colossians 1:17

 

OUTWARD

When we look at the human body, it appears fairly normal to us. We all have a head, neck, arms, hands, fingers, body/trunk–some more than others!–legs, feet, toes, and bones. But should we dig a little deeper?

Our Creator God does not get the understanding or praise He deserves from His children for the intricate way He created us! The thought He put into the creation of men must have been phenomenal.

Genesis 126:27 says, “Let us make many in our image, in our likeness…” So God created man in His Own image. In the images of God He created him; male and female He created them.

INWARD

Let’s look inward at just how much thought God did put into making us, His children.

For you created my innermost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Psalam 139:13,14

Have you ever wondered what holds us together? You have a brain, heart, lungs, kidneys, liver, stomach, and spine; a myriad of organs and parts that all work together to keep your human body running. Each organ is made up of different kinds of cells, each unique to itself. For instance, what keeps the heart’s cells from separating and floating off into the bloodstream? What holds the brain together so it doesn’t resemble Jello? What keeps the liver together so our skin doesn’t turn yellow?

WHAT HOLDS US TOGETHER?

He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together. Colossians 1:17

Let’s discover God’s wonderful intrinsic creation of how He holds us together on the inside and the outside.

We have these wonderful, tiny little cells called Laminin. Wikipedia describes them: “Lamins are a family of proteins that are an integral part of the structural scaffolding of basement membranes in almost every human and animal tissue.” They are called adhesion molecules. They are what holds one cell of our bodies to the next cell. Without them, we would literally fall apart.

The amazing thing about the Laminin cell is that it is in the shape of the Cross. This proves that Christ was there, as the Bible says, at the beginning.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. he was with God in the beginning. Through Him all things were made; without Him nothing was made that has been made. In Him was life, and that life was the light of men. John 1:1-4

A CRUCIAL DESIGN

He designed us to carry a crucial part of Him that holds us together in the shape of a cross. We have been carrying the sigh of our resurrection, forgiveness of sins, and redemption within our bodies, since the creation of man. Our bodies are a living prophecy of the coming of Jesus Christ. Our bodies of a living prophecy of the return of Jesus. Laminin, a gift of prophecy from Jesus Christ, is the Cross that holds us together.

Laminin protein in our body thats in the shape of a cross its what ...

 

Tender Eyes

Posted on by Linda Cobourn

Leah’s eyes were tender, but Rachel was shapely and beautiful.
Genesis 29:17

“You have beautiful eyes,” he said, and here Dr. Scheie paused dramatically–or at least he should have paused dramatically, because what he was about to say would have a major impact on my life–“but you have a rare and serious disease. It’s called keratoconus and it deforms and destroys the corneas. I’m afraid that you have it in both eyes and while we can deter the progress, we can’t cure it.”

It is hard to believe that it has been more than forty years since I heard those words, forty years since my mother and I drove up to Penn on a wintry January day. I was nineteen at the time, a freshman at Millersville State College headed towards a teaching degree in elementary education. But headaches and blurred vision, episodes of dizziness, and walking into walls had convinced my parents that something more than just a change of glasses was needed. No one expected that the appointment would reveal a disease that would ultimately become a major player in the story of my life. But our lives often have unexpected plot twists. Take, for example, Leah, in love with Jacob, who was in love with the younger daughter, Rachel. Talk about a love triangle!

Many interpretations of the Bible claim that Leah’s eyes were not one of her best features, that she was cross-eyed or near-sighted or–it’s possible–suffered from keratoconus. But with my own eyes both my best and my worst feature, I’ve always identified with poor Leah, who spent years in the shadow of her lovelier sister, Rachel. According to the Hebrew  4 Christians website, “weak eyes” is not, as some Biblical scholars have stated, a negative comment. Leah, about to be forced into marriage with much, much older Esau, wept until her eyes hurt. She prayed that she might become the mother of the righteous, and God saw her tears.

I, too, have tender eyes. Many have called them beautiful. The first words my husband ever said to me were, “You have the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen.” So, of course, I married him. But having tender eyes–eyes that see through misshaped corneas–is not easy. While more is known about KC–as it is commonly called–now than 40 years ago, it is still a pretty rare disease, with fewer than 200,000 cases reported per year. Common symptoms–and yes, I have them all–include ghost images, multiple images, glare, halos, extreme sensitivity to light, and starbursts. I also have the tell-tale gold rings–Fliesher’s Rings–that often come with keratoconus. While not yet proven, the disease is thought to progress with pregnancy, but I wouldn’t trade Dennis, Bonnie, or Allen for 20/20 vision anyway.  15 to 20% of KC sufferers will require a transplant at some point in time; I’ve had three.

Image result for keratoconus

Leah, my tender-eyed friend, was honored by God. It was through her son Judah that both King David–and ultimately Jesus- descended, and through her son Levi that both Moses and Aaron came. The word translated as weak in the Talmud is the Hebrew word rakkot, the plural form of rak. According to the Talmud, rak--tender–connotates royalty. Leah’s eyes, whatever their condition, placed her as the matriarch of a royal line.

Years ago, when I was 19, I had no idea just how big a part KC would play in my life. I did not know that I would someday–as I have now–reach a point where certain things are no longer possible for me because of my tender eyes. I do remember this, though. I remember praying on the drive home from Penn: “Lord, I want to serve you. If I will do that better as a blind person, then so be it.”

I am not blind. While my vision is distorted and severe eyestrain has become the plague of my life, I still want to serve God in whatever way He deems fit. I may not become the matriarch of a royal line, but I know that I am a child of the King.

Tender eyes and all.

Finding Comfort in the Different

Posted on by Linda Cobourn

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, 4 who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.

 2 Corinthians 1:2-4 (NIV)

A STEP OF FAITH

It was raining that Sunday morning and the drops outside my windshield matched the sorrow in my soul. I was on my way to church, but I was not heading to the place of worship where my husband, Ron, and I had raised our children and spent most of our married lives. After my husband’s death a year before, I had found no comfort in the church where we had both taught Sunday School, where I had served as Awana Commander, where Ron had been a trustee, and where we had dedicated our three children to God.

As I drove down Philadelphia Pike, trying to keep resentment from my heart, I reminded myself we had not done those things for the church building, but for God. And if the congregation did not know how to address the needs of a new widow, then I had every right to seek solace in another community. I had no idea where I would find it, so I let God lead me.

 

There were, on that rainy Sunday morning, two notions in my head. One was a ministry that had existed several years ago called Angel Food, a non-profit organization that provided groceries to those in need at a reasonable price. The second notion was my husband’s voice, echoing his idea that, “That seems like a nice little church” whenever we passed the stone building in Claymont.

 

Prodded by those two thoughts, I pulled into the parking lot at The Atonement Methodist Church.

 

5 For just as we share abundantly in the sufferings of Christ, so also our comfort abounds through Christ. 6 If we are distressed, it is for your comfort and salvation; if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which produces in you patient endurance of the same sufferings we suffer.

2 Corinthians 1:5-6 (NIV)

NEW BUT FAMILIAR

 

I entered the building a bit warily, only passingly familiar with Methodism from the times my paternal grandmother would take my brother and I to Sunday School. But the building was warm and friendly, and I was greeted with equal warmth. I made my way into the sanctuary, uplifted by stray rays of light emerging through the stained glass windows. Raised as a Catholic by my mother, the colorful displays of Jesus were familiar to me. I took a seat in the back.

 

Alright, I said inwardly to my husband, let’s see if this really is a nice little church.

 

Several women seated near me offered their names and a smile. One moved over in the pew and asked me to join her. This is nice, I thought. Since my best friend had moved last year, six months after Ron’s death, I had sat alone in the pew, despite reaching out to several women including the Women’s Ministry Leader.

 

The organ began to play the prelude and I felt myself drawn back again to Grandmom’s church where the pipe organ’s notes cascaded through the room. This felt good, I realized. This felt right.

 

It wasn’t too much longer before a gentle woman with gray hair slid into the pew next to me. “Hi,” she said. “I’m Pastor Amy. What brings you to our church today?”

 

And I found myself telling her, this kind but veritable stranger, how I had been widowed and feeling lonely and a bit lost. How the church where my husband and I had served for so many years didn’t seem to quite know what to do with me. How, when I asked the minister, I was told it was because of the COVID pandemic.

 

“Nonsense,” said Pastor Amy. “You are still a widow in need. I  hope you find comfort here.”

 

And I did, returning the next week with my autistic adult son who could not take the sensory overload of blinking screens and loud drums on the stage, but could settle in quietly next to me and spend time in worship.

 

 7 And our hope for you is firm, because we know that just as you share in our sufferings, so also you share in our comfort.

2 Corinthians 1: 7 (NIV)

THE RIGHT PATH

Three years later, and Allen and I have been embraced by the people of Atonement. We have found comfort; we have found ministries; we have found friends. It was not easy, but I dared to step into a new life as a widow with a disabled son; God led me to the doors of a “nice little church” where my writing ministry has continued to blossom.

 

Undertaking a new path and allowing God–and my husband!–to lead me was not easy. But as Atonement Methodist enters into a new phase, I know we are on the right path.

A NEW NAME

Posted on by Linda Cobourn

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This week my Substack post was about the acceptance of my autistic adult son Allen that his deceased father had been given a new name in Heaven. Allen and I continue to make our way into a life without Ron. You can read the complete blog post here.

 

As we transition from our formal association with the United Methodist Church and enter into our fellowship with the Global Methodist Church, we will be called by a new name: The Atonement Methodist Church. I have taken these words from many Bible passages, all listed below. And please listen to the poem of Hosanna Wong, who says it better than I can!

 

We are not the names of our past;

We are the names we have chosen to answer to.

As the conquerors, we listen to what

The Spirit says to the Church.

In the hidden manna, written on the white stone, 

Is a New Name.

It is an Everlasting Name.

Friend.

Chosen.

Masterpiece.

We are called by the mouth of the Lord

This new name.

We are called by another name.

Hand-made.

Purposed.

A temple.

Let everyone who has an ear, listen;

Let everyone who has an eye, see;

Let everyone who has a mouth, speak.

Our names are written in the house of the Lord.

Messenger.

Child.

Greatly loved.

Tangible words

Written on us.

The name of My God, and the name of the city of My God,

 the new Jerusalem, which comes down out of heaven from My God, 

and My new name.

Free, free indeed.

Brand new.

I Have A New Name | Hosanna Wong (Official Video)

Hosanna Wong. I have a New Name. Mixology.

Taken from: Revelations 2:17,Isaiah 56:5, Isaiah 62:2, Isaiah 65:15, Revelation 3:12, John 15:15, 1 Thessolonians 1:14, Ephesians 2:10,1 Corinthians 6:19,Acts1:8,Galatians 3:26, Romans 5:8, John 8:36, II Corinthians 5:17

 

WHEN THE ANSWER IS “NO”

Posted on by Linda Cobourn

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, my power is made perfect in weakness. (II Corinthians 12:9, NIV)

FINISHED

The day was finally over. I leaned back in my second-hand rocking chair and closed my eyes, struggling to quiet my nerves. I’d been running on adrenalin for the last six days, doing everything that needed to be done for my husband and our children, having no time to sort through my own emotions. I thought of the boxes and bundles in the dining room, all things I would need to sort through and take care of; of my two older children who had just gone back to their homes with their partners; and of Allen, my autistic adult son, who had thrown his tie and suit jacket on the coach a few moments ago. I’d heard the door to his room slam; the sounds reverberated through our little brick house. 

Keeping my eyes closed, I slid from my rocking chair and touched my knees to the laminate floor–so much better for wheelchairs and walkers than carpeting-and let the tears–so carefully controlled for six days–flow down my face. 

“Thank you, Lord,” I prayed. “Thank you that it is finally finished. Thank you that Ron is finally healed.”

I would need to become accustomed to seeing the empty lift chair on the other side of the room, the one Allen and I had struggled to bring home from a sale in Kennet Square just a few months ago, but my heart would be full.

 After more than two decades of illnesses, my husband had been called Home.

ASKING

During the years when we were, more often than not, inhabiting some room at some hospital in the tri-county area, my thoughts would often stray to the Apostle Paul as I waited out surgery or a test. While no one is really sure what the problem was, it is made clear in the Book of Second Corinthians that Paul prayed three times for a physical affliction to be removed from him. And God had his reasons for saying “No”. 

In addition to this burden, Paul had been beaten, flogged, left for dead, thrown into a filthy prison cell with rats and mice, and confined in chains. Some of Paul’s physical features have been part of a story Titus told Onesiphorus that Paul was, “small in size, bald-headed, bow-legged, well built, with eyebrows that met, rather long-nosed and full of grace.” Add to his unimposing figure the scars and scabs of his mistreatment, emaciation from prison scraps, and head injury. Not what one might suppose the impressive Apostle looked like.

But he was full of grace. When God said, “No. Sorry, buddy, no healing for you,” Paul’s response was not anger but acceptance. Without physical features worthy of boast, Paul replied, “Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me” (II Corinthians 12:9). If God had healed Paul, would he have been as effective in the early church? Would he have gone on the Apostolic missions to Cyprus, Syria, Cilicia, and Arabia?  Paul trusted that God knew best.

TRUST

We had that trust as well. Through the many, many years of my husband’s illnesses, myself, my children, my friends, and my church continually prayed for Ron’s healing. We knew it was within God’s power to take away both the physical and mental maladies that assaulted him. We knew it; we believed it; we waited for it to happen.

And while we waited for a miracle, we “let the power of Christ” rest on us. We filled each hospital room with hymns and cards from my school students. We prayed for the medical staff that entered the room. We reached out to both patients and families in waiting rooms. We comforted those who lost someone; we rejoiced with those who left the hospital well again. We knew God heard us (I John 5:14).

Joni Eareckson Tada, a quadriplegic since her diving accident in 1967, stated in interviews that she often felt God, by not healing her, had deserted her. But she came to discover that God had a greater purpose for her life. Joni said, “God may remove your suffering, and that will be a great cause for praise. But if not, He will use it, He will use anything and everything that stands in the way of His fellowship with you. So let God mold you and make you, transform you from glory to glory. That’s the deeper healing”(Interview with Marvin Olasky, 2013).

YES

I rose from the floor and crossed over to the maroon lift chair where, six days ago, Ron had fallen asleep and awakened in Heaven. I touched it lightly, remembering: the mother of a chronically ill daughter with whom I prayed during ketamine treatments; the heart patient my daughter and I had met at Temple Hospital who left our presence to go home and call her estranged son; the grieving widower who accepted Jesus in the waiting room at Riddle Hospital, knowing he would see his wife again in Glory.

Would these people have heard the Gospel if Ron had been healed? Would Paul have gone on the mission trips if he had been a handsome and physically fit man? Would Joni have had a worldwide impact on others if God had cured her?

I settled into Ron’s chair, sensing my husband’s presence. Moving on without him would not be easy, but I knew his life had not been in vain.

God’s “no” had resulted in many saying “yes” to Jesus. 

 

Do you know I’ve written a book? It recounts my autistic son’s unique grief journey after his father died. In order to have a publisher consider it, I need a LOT of people to subscribe to my blog. PLEASE CONSIDER IT. It’s FREE!  Just click this link! 

Quirky: Because we’re all a little different

 

Running Home

Posted on by Linda Cobourn

It’s been a long time running down a dead-end road

Lookin’ for that something that could fill my soul

Running Home, Cochran and Company, 2023 

Title: Running Home, CD By: Cochren & Company Format: Compact disc. Vendor: Gotee, Publication Date: 2023. Weight: 3 ounces. UPC: 669447019978. Stock No

“I’m sorry. I just can’t do it anymore.”

The note was torn from a copybook and left on the kitchen table that morning. I wasn’t sure how my husband had managed to get out of bed without me hearing him, but tears flowed down my cheeks as I read his words. I ran to the window; his white Ford GT was gone. That meant that Ron, my husband of 40 years, had driven off in a psychotic break.

I picked up my phone and began to make calls: to the police, our children, and our minister. It was more than I could handle alone; I needed my village. 

It was April of 2009, and it was the third time that Ron, worn down by both psychological and physical issues, had attempted to run away from his problems. I knew the problems were not of his making. The severe depression that had caused the first mental breakdown in 1996 resulted in several hospitalizations in psychiatric wards and was later diagnosed as bipolar disorder in 1999. We were getting a handle on it, working out the medications, and coming to a balance in life (well, sort of) when the red pickup truck struck Ron’s car on Paoli Pike, resulting in massive internal injuries and many, many surgeries. 

At first, Ron tried to remain positive and hopeful, but as infections invaded his body and postponed his recovery, the mental aspects of a long illness began to erode his faith. He questioned why God allowed his suffering, and why God allowed him to remain on earth. My usually upbeat nature grated on his nerves. 

“I’m worth nothing,” he would say.

“You are to the kids and me,” I would counter.

“If only I could get away from God,” he’d retort.

“Go to Ninevah!”

I’m sure Jonah felt the same way when God told him to go to Ninevah and he decided against it. Jonah 1:3 says, “But Jonah got up and went in the opposite direction to get away from the Lord” (NIV). Jonah did his best to run and hide, jumping on a ship headed for the open sea and eventually getting thrown into the waves when the crew discovered this disobedient prophet was the reason for the sudden storm. Then, to make matters worse, Jonah was swallowed by a whale and spent three days and nights in what was probably a pretty dark and smelly place.

But it gave him time to think. While the story of Jonah does not end with his repentance, God undoubtedly knew the internal struggles within the prophet and forgave him (Shalhevertnewsonline.com).

And God forgave Ron. Aways. My husband may have seen his struggles as meaningless. Sometimes I did, as well. Why had this good man, this loving husband and father, been made to suffer so much pain? I reminded myself daily that,” God works for the good of those who love him, who had been called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:2,8 NIV).

And despite his attempts to run away, Ron did love God.

It was close to midnight by the time Ron was found. Church members and neighbors had gone home by then, and my grown children and their partners were seeking some respite at my house when our minister called.

Going home

“I drove by the church,” said Dan. “Ron’s car is there. The police are bringing him to the hospital. He’s okay.”

Ron had, at his lowest point and suffering great inner turmoil,, sought a place of peace and safety. He’d sought God.

It was the last time Ron tried to run away from the Lord. It probably helped that I sold his car. He continued to question why God allowed his pain to endure. The last two years of his life, when his world was reduced to our downstairs rooms, were particularly difficult.

“I wish I knew what God’s reasons are,” he would tell me. And I would assure him that one day he would know.

According to Desiringgod.com (2017), suffering prepares us for glory; “For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that outweighs them all” (II Corinthians 4:17, NIV). As Joni Eareckson Tada said, “We’ll thank God endlessly in heaven for the trials he sent us here.”

His trials continued, but my husband stopped running from God. And on one glorious day, Ron ran home.

Do you know I’ve written a book? It recounts my autistic son’s unique grief journey after his father died. In order to have a publisher consider it, I need a LOT of people to subscribe to my blog. PLEASE CONSIDER IT. It’s FREE!

http://lindaca1.substack.com

HEART BEAT

Posted on by Linda Cobourn

Dear Friends, My son and I were not members of Atonement when my husband died on July 13, 2019, but all of you have helped us to continue to allow our hearts to beat as we work to serve God and honor our loved one. Our church has undergone trials this year, and some hearts have been divided. I’d like to remind everyone that “Heaven is working everything for our good.” I hope you will not only read this post to the end but also listen to Danny Gorky’s song.

In His Blessed Name,

Linda

Shattered…
Like you’ve never been before
The life you knew
In a thousand pieces on the floor
“Your husband’s heart is very damaged,” said Dr. Hoffman. She stood next to our chairs in the trauma waiting room, still wearing a blue surgical gown. “His aorta was crushed by the steering wheel. And he’s sustained a lot of other damage in his chest and pelvis. But, he’s survived the surgery. There may be other complications later on, but for now, he is stable.”
My daughter and I were numb after eight hours spent in molded plastic chairs, eight hours of twisting our hands and praying. During the evening and early morning hours, friends and church members had stopped by to pray and wait with us. Now, at 2 AM, it was just Bonnie and me and our minister.
“You can see him for a moment,” said Dr. Hoffman. “Then you all need to go get some sleep. Don’t set the alarm for work or school. Just sleep. We’ll call you if anything happens.”
Ron lay on the stretcher in the recovery room, still and gray, wires and tubes connected everywhere to his body. A screen above showed his heartbeat in glowing green. I touched his right shoulder, one of the few places on his body without an electrode. “Stay with me,” I whispered to him. “Tell your heart to keep beating.”
Is he still alive?” asked the voice on the other end of the phone. “I just got the message you left. Mom, tell me, is Dad still alive?”
Bonnie, Allen, and I had huddled together in my bed for a few hours, trying to sleep away some of the fears we were feeling. One of us would drift off for a few moments, but inevitably we would wake up and grab for each other. Thoughts ran through my head: What now? How would we get through this? Could I be strong enough for Ron, for our children?
Tears streamed down my face as I responded to my son, away at college. “Yes,” I said. “Dad’s still alive. When we left him a couple of hours ago, his heart was still beating.”
And words fall short in times like these
When this world drives you to your knees
You think you’re never gonna get back
To the you that used to be
Tell your heart to beat again
Close your eyes and breathe it in
“The surgery on his pancreas was successful,” said Dr. Harbison. “He’ll be on a feeding tube for a while, and gradually we’ll reintroduce solid foods. But his heart has become enlarged. It’s not working at full capacity. He’ll spend some time in the telemetry unit, but I think he is going to need a pacemaker. We’ll watch him for a few days until he’s stronger.”
I made notes on the pad I kept in my purse as he talked. Terms once foreign to me–pancreas, spleen, telemetry- were now part of my everyday vocabulary. “I’m assuming you will give him a diet to follow when he’s released, things that are easy to digest and that will keep his blood sugar level. When can I see him?”
“In about half an hour,” he said. “We’ve had some trouble bringing him out of the anesthesia.”
“It always happens,” I said.
He paused for a moment and checked Ron’s chart. “I see this is his–fourth surgery in the last year? This must be hard on you.”
“It is,” I agreed. “But we’re a strong family. The kids and I figure it out as we go along.” I smiled as I put the notebook back in my purse. “As long as his heart keeps beating, we’ll keep fighting.”
Beginning
Just let that word wash over you
It’s alright now
Love’s healing hands have pulled you through
So get back up, take step one
Leave the darkness, feel the sun
‘Cause your story’s far from over
And your journey’s just begun
“Your pulse is very weak. Mr. Cobourn, I think you’re going into A-fib. Are you with me? Stay with me!” shouted the nurse.
I grabbed Ron’s hand. “Come on, honey. Keep breathing.” I turned to the nurse who was busily raising the baron the stretcher Ron laid on. “Shall we call 911?” I asked her. “Do we need the paddles? Is his pacemaker working?”
“It will be quicker to run him across the street to Temple,” she said. “I’ll push. Go hold the elevator!”
I picked up Ron’s things and ran down the hallway of the medical building on Broad Street, determined to stop traffic if I had to in order to get Ron into the Emergency Room across the street. “I’ll call them that we’re on our way!” I said as I furiously pushed the button for the elevator. The nurse arrived, breathless with her exertion, and the doors slid open. I leaned over my groggy husband and whispered in his ear, “Tell your heart to keep beating. Tell it not to stop.”
Tell your heart to beat again
Close your eyes and breathe it in
Let the shadows fall away
Step into the light of grace
“It’s his heart” said the voice on my cell phone. “As you know, it’s terribly scarred from so many surgeries and infections. And it’s only working at 25% capacity. Dr. Araidne needs to do an ablation but since you have medical power of attorney…”
“I know,” I said as I opened up my desk drawer and picked up my purse. My elementary students were out on the playground and the Reading lesson was on the board.
“How soon can you be here?”
I checked the clock on the wall. ” Maybe 30 minutes,” I said. “I’m just up on Academy Road. I can get to Hahnemann pretty quickly.”
“Okay. We’ll let the surgeon know.”
I grabbed my purse and locked the door. I would run by the office and tell the secretary I was leaving for the hospital; my reading students would have to stay in their classroom. Quickly, I strode over to the parking lot and got into my car. “Tell your heart to keep beating,” I whispered to my husband. “Just a little while longer.”
Let every heartbreak
And every scar
Be a picture that reminds you
Who has carried you this far
“We did everything we could,” said the EMT. “There is nothing else we can do. His heart just..stopped. Between one beat and the next.” He laid a hand on my arm. “I wish we could have done more.”
I took a deep breath. “He’s been through a lot. Too many hospitalizations. Too many surgeries. Nineteen years of too much for one man to deal with.” I let the tears fall from my face. “He stayed as long as he could. He kept his heart beating for us.”
The EMT bent to put the instruments back into his bag. “The medical examiner will be along later. But I think the cause of death is obvious.” He straightened up. “You took good care of him, Mrs. Cobourn. Never doubt that.” He sighed. “Frankly, he shouldn’t have lived this long. He did because he loved you.”
‘Cause love sees farther than you ever could
In this moment heaven’s working
Everything for your good
“Dad’s okay now,” I said to my three children, huddled together on the deck out back while the EMTs finished up. “He’s not in pain anymore. I promised him…I promised him we would all be okay. I promised him we would move on with our lives. I promised him we would always remember him.”
Tell your heart to beat again
Close your eyes and breathe it in
Let the shadows fall away
“Goodbye,” I whispered as I leaned over the casket. “It will take some time, I know. But I want you to know I will be okay. Your love will always be part of me. My heart will beat for you.”
Say goodbye to where you’ve been

And tell your heart to beat again

Tell Your Heart to Beat Again lyrics © Capitol Christian Music Group, Capitol CMG Publishing, Downtown Music Publishing, Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc

NO ONE BELIEVES IN ME ANYMORE

Posted on by Linda Cobourn

Musings from a Musician

By: Valerie Pilkington

I just keep doing my best, pray that it’s blessed and Jesus takes care of the rest

Matthew 12: 43 – 45  NIV

43 “When an impure spirit comes out of a person, it goes through arid places seeking rest and does not find it. 44 Then it says, ‘I will return to the house I left.’ When it arrives, it finds the house unoccupied, swept clean and put in order. 45 Then it goes and takes with it seven other spirits more wicked than itself, and they go in and live there. And the final condition of that person is worse than the first. That is how it will be with this wicked generation.”

In the fall of 2022, Ellie Kwick had a class showing the video to the book by Jonathan Cahn, The Return of the Gods. Throughout that class we learned how the United States, and the whole world really, is now dealing with the spirits of the ancient world.  It does not take much to realize the world we live in without Jesus is following someone’s orders.  We learned that when GOD is kicked out of a civilization,  an evil spirit moves in, and brings with him seven  more like himself.   I am so thankful and grateful, that just one word from Jesus,  and evil spirits flee.  “Get thee behind me Satan.”  I just have to open my mouth, speak God’s words, and evil flees. 

 

As with everything with me,  I love quoting lyrics from songs.   I loved Keith Green, and he wrote a song in 1977 called No one Believes in Me Anymore,  aka Satan’s Boast.   Here are the lyrics,  and food for thought. 

 

Oh, my job keeps getting easier

As time keeps slipping away

I can imitate your brightest light

And make your night look just like day

I put some truth in every lie

To tickle itching ears

You know I’m drawing people just like flies

‘Cause they like what they hear

I’m gaining power by the hour

They’re falling by the score

You know, it’s getting very simple now

‘Cause no one believe in me anymore

Oh, heaven’s just a state of mind

My books read on your shelf

And have you heard that God is dead?

I made that one up myself

They dabble in magic spells

They get their fortunes read

You know they heard the truth

But turned away and followed me instead

I used to have to sneak around

But now they just open their doors

You know, no ones watching for my tricks

Because no one believes in me anymore

Everyone likes a winner

With my help, you’re guaranteed to win

And hey, man, you ain’t no sinner

You’ve got the truth within

And as your life slips by

You believe the lie that you did it on your own

But don’t worry

I’ll be there to help you share our dark eternal home

Oh, my job keeps getting easier

As day slips into day

The magazines, the newspapers

Print every word I say

This world is just my spinning top

It’s all like childs-play

You know, I dream that it will never stop

But I know it’s not that way

Still my work goes on and on

Always stronger than before

I’m gonna make it dark before the dawn

Since no one believes in me anymore

Well, now I used to have to sneak around

But now they just open their doors

You know, no one watches for my tricks

Since no one believes in me anymore

Well I’m gaining power by the hour

They’re falling by the score

You know, it’s getting very easy now

Since no one believes in me anymore

No one believes in me anymore

No one believes in me anymore

 

My heart breaks and so should yours that people are so misled. It is our privilege to be Jesus’ voice, hands, and feet in this world.  When was the last time we shared Jesus with our neighbors, friends, or even family?  Or better yet, when was the last time we prayed for these people to know Jesus and His unfailing love for us?  I believe we are in the last days, and things on this earth as we know it are coming to a close.  Let us be the people who SHARE JESUS with everyone we meet and do our best to be JESUS IN THIS WORLD.

 

God Bless all of you until next time we meet.

Works Cited:

Cahn, Jonathan. (2022). The Return of the Gods. Frontline Publication.

Green, Keith. . “No one believes in me anymore [Satan’s Boast].” For Him Who Has Ears to Hear. (May 20, 1977). Keith Green and Bill Maxwell.

Suffering for Christ

Posted on by Linda Cobourn

Barbara Lee, MSET

Many Christians in the United States wonder if they would be able to “suffer for Christ”. Now, has anyone ever “suffered for Christ”? How is this form of suffering different from our normal daily ordeals or hardships? 

SCRIPTURE:  12 Dear friends, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that has come on you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. 13 But rejoice inasmuch as you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed. 14 If you are insulted because of the name of Christ, you are blessed, for the Spirit of glory and of God rests on you. 16 However, if you suffer as a Christian, do not be ashamed, but praise God that you bear that name. (1 Peter 4: 12-14, 16; NIV)

An Unwanted Blessing

My sister’s Bible class was discussing that in the United States it appears that we have not been “called to suffer for Christ”. After all, we aren’t tortured or killed due to our statement of faith when we go to church on Sunday or carry our own Bibles. Yet, my sister commented, “You have suffered greatly for Christ.” And this is the truth I’ve endured since at least 2015.

For about 12 years, I taught in the New Jersey Juvenile “Corrections System”. For about 10 years, I taught full-time in juvenile “corrections” in northernmost New Jersey. The last 2 years were atrocious with enforcement of the “modern educational ideology”. As teachers, we were told what we “could think, believe, and say”. I faced daily threats and weekly harassment which meant that I faced a very unsafe and hazardous working environment. Management wanted proper automatons. Often, I was able to “sidestep” the inmate’s questions or be abstruse in my answer. Yet I felt an “increasing sense of foreboding uneasiness” and had an “awareness” that momentarily I would be called to either defend my faith or just “go with the flow into Hell”. That day, there were only 2 choices for me, and I resolved to defend my faith in Christ. I just didn’t know what it would TRULY cost me. 

  In the classroom, an inmate told me about the FACT of evolution and told me of his  belief about humans coming from apes. (You read that correctly.) I said that evolution is a theory and explains the similarities and differences in the world with different breeds of dogs, cats, and other living organisms. The inmate confronted me that it is a theory, and it is therefore a fact. I explained that a theory is a process of discovering the truth.  Then (in front of the full class, and 2 additional classes of students, teachers, and the officers), I felt His Spirit fill me as I allowed His Spirit to confront the inmates’ deceptions that they were “accidental by-products of pond scum” and therefore not responsible for their actions. 

Days later, an inmate who had been in one of those classes, confronted me at my desk in a different building and demanded that he be permitted to go on the computer under my access code (which was a “firing offense”). I refused his demand; so he reached across the desk, gripped my hand,  pulling and pushing me across the desk multiple times. I screamed to get out of the classroom and locked the door. I knew I was severely injured since I spent hours trying to just sign my name and write a documentary narrative about the assault. A month later, I completed the resignation process, never to return. 

I retained a New Jersey legal firm for Worker’s Compensation, and over 5 years received no medical care through Worker’s Compensation. After the assault, Delaware Medicaid provided me with all appropriate surgeries which seem to me to be directly related to the assault. Since I am no longer in the “Injustice System”, it appears I just don’t understand “the law”. Yet the consequences of the assault have been unparalleled. I have had 1 cervical fusion of my neck (3-7) and 3 lumbar fusions (from my 3rd vertebrae which is near the base of my ribcage to the end of my spine) trying to repair the extensive damage from the assault. 

Unwanted Lessons

Many Biblical characters endured “fiery ordeals”. The most logical examples of enduring “fiery trials” would be Daniel, Joseph, and Esther who encountered “strange”, life-shattering experiences. Daniel was (supposedly) a teenager when he was taken to another country and forced to renounce everything that was of value to him.  Joseph was a spoiled, young man who was sold into slavery, and then taken to another country and accused of crimes that he didn’t commit. Esther was a young woman who was taken to another country, and she won the Miss World Pageant. She was blatantly told to not speak of her faith. Yet, she followed God’s directions through her uncle and wisely saved the Hebrew nation. Each of these people exemplified  faith when it was critical. 

Moses, Gideon, and Joshua encountered “fiery trials” of a different sort. Moses had to reject his “adopted culture” and lead perhaps an “army” of millions of complaining “sheep” through the wilderness. Each sheep “knew” that they could do a better job than Moses. Gideon had significant “self-esteem” issues as God told him to fight against a far more powerful and prepared army.  Like most people, Gideon tried to work out the solution based on his understanding and wisdom but had to listen to hear God’s mystifying directions. Joshua took the “army of sheep” from Moses and had to be prepared to enforce a “death penalty” on any friend or family member who refused to follow God’s directions. 

So, as a Christian, would these “fiery ordeals” seem something “strange” to you? The “greats”— Daniel, Joseph, Esther, Moses, Gideon, and Joshua made their choice to suffer for their faith. But, if you are given the choice to suffer for Christ”, could you? Each of these people fought battles to defend the Truth of God. Each character risked their life, and the lives of those that they loved, to speak the truth of God.

So, my friend, the question is: What would you do for Christ?

 

Relaxing Through the Mountains

Posted on by Linda Cobourn

EDITOR’S NOTE; Today we welcome Babara Lee to “Walking With Jesus!”

Relaxing Through the Mountains

Barbara Lee, MSET

6 This poor man called, and the LORD heard him; he saved him out of all his troubles. 

7 The angel of the LORD encamps around those who fear him, and he delivers them. 

8 Taste and see that the LORD is good; blessed is the one who takes refuge in him.

 Psalm 34: 6-8.  (Source: https://bible.knowing-jesus.com/Psalm/41/2)

 

UP THE MOUNTAIN

Sometime near Resurrection Day at the start of the millennium, I was driving to a colleague’s home before driving with him in his car to a work-related conference. I was on “Skyline Drive” which is a two-mile-high, serpentine road, with two lanes. On one side was the precipitous drop, and on  the other side the perpendicular wall of rock. The surrounding view from the mountaintop was of a green land neatly divided into fields and squares with a small-town underneath, but it was “suicide” to look down while driving. Skyline Drive had one lane going up the mountain and the other lane going down with no physical division between the lanes but with constant twists throughout the two miles. From above, I assume  that the road looked like a lazy, peaceful, serpent relaxing in the sun on a grassy field with a “full- tummy”. In the springtime, verdant trees covered everything; and in the fall, the land was awash with colors as the trees changed shades.  The picturesque scenery was gorgeous from the incline unless . . . .


at the top of the mountain, my brakes completely failed! There was no apparent cause since the car wasn’t “that ancient”, and had been maintained on schedule, yet my foot pedal just went to the floor. I panicked, (briefly cursed), and prayed, something like, “Oh ****, Oh God!!” And then I was “off to the races”! 

THE EMERGENCY BRAKE

On a road which was constantly used, I was able to swing the car left and right down the narrow pathway, until at the end of this “suicide ride”, I thought briefly about taking the car into a local shopping center’s parking lot until it would slow to a stop. As the weight of the car started pulling it backwards into oncoming traffic, I THEN REMEMBERED the emergency brake and pulled the car to the side and engaged the emergency brake.  It was at this time that the local police stopped by on the other side of the road, and the officer asked if I needed help.

 My first thought was, I could have used your help a few seconds ago! But I said, “I am contacting my mechanic.” Since my friend’s husband was an auto mechanic, and the road was all uphill,  I was simply calling him to see if he was available. 

Pete, my “expert mechanic”, examined the car and said there are multiple, “redundant” systems to prevent this from happening and asked if he could send the parts to the manufacturer. My comment was, “Take any parts, but can you fix it?” He gave me the estimate and time and drove me, his overwhelmed friend, home.

I purchased a new car thereafter and remembered the lesson. I could have been hit by a car going up the hill or hit someone else as my car was flying “out of control” down the hill. I might have been pushed over the sheer cliff or have hit the sheer rock face; yet neither one happened. Angels provided a safe path for me down since God had His purpose. 

HEED THE SIGNS

How often are we oblivious to God’s clear signs and displays of His love, protection, and provision for us? It may not be as obvious as clearly as that experience. We run outside to do our daily tasks without a thought about giving God thanks, see a picturesque sky and don’t think of The Maker, and then eat delicious food and not recognize Our Provider. If you were a parent of a child who constantly refused to show gratitude, how often would you keep giving more? If you had family members who rarely took time to take their head from the electronic devices, would you graciously give them more? Yet, Our Father wants our simple thanks. 

When we recognize His Power, Authority, and Glory; God wants to shower us with even more blessings. Our Creator doesn’t need us since He could clearly make “children of Abraham” from rocks (Matthew 3: 9). But He wants us as family, and He chooses us as His friends. And for those who choose to follow His Heart, God invites us to grow and mature through those choices. 

Baker’s Evangelical Dictionary of Biblical Theology explains who the “Angel of the Lord” is from biblestudytools.com (https://www.biblestudytools.com/dictionary/angel-of-the-lord/). Most people, when they see an angel, are struck with fear. The “Angel of The Lord” carries God’s messages and is identified with God. This angel can be a messenger of good or evil, but always does what is right. In Genesis 16:7-14, the Lord’s angel tells Hagar to return to Sarai. The angel of the Lord also pronounces a curse on people who “refused to come to the Lord” (Judges 5: 23), puts Israel’s enemies to death (2 Kings 19: 35), and commissions Abraham to confront Pharaoh (Joshua 5: 13-15; Exodus 3: 5) about withholding the Hebrews, “God’s only son” (Gen 22: 11-18).

Far from such a powerful angel, God provided me with an angel when I needed His protection and provision.  God is “no respecter of people”, and I am no closer to God’s heart than any other child of God. I am quite certain that we sometimes feel that the vehicles of our life are so “out of control” and all we want to do is put the brakes on the vehicles that appear to be carrying us down the precipitous mountain; but we must try to remember that  though we may want to put on the brakes, God can always send His angels to safely escort us to His place of safety and joy. 

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ATONEMENT CHURCH
3519 Philadelphia Pike
Claymont, DE 19703

302-798-8472
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