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AM I UP TODAY, AM I DOWN TODAY, OR SOMEWHERE IN THE MIDDLE? (Living with Bipolar Disorder)

Posted on February 10, 2023 by Linda Cobourn

By: Valerie Pilkington

Musings from a Musician

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

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” John 16:33 NIV

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. Psalm 34:18 NIV

CHANGES

Somewhere between the age of 21 and 30, I began to change, and change noticeably. One day I would have such a good attitude, get SO Much accomplished, and talk like I could not get the words out fast enough. I would change subjects too fast because I had SO much to say to anyone who would listen. The next day, I would be the complete opposite, having a little trouble with concentration and accomplishing tasks. It was a real effort to communicate, and I really had to bear down to get my thoughts out. My mother would tell me I was having spells like my grandmother Pennypacker, but all I wanted was to get back to “normal”. Whatever that was.

I got a specific diagnosis when I was in my 50’s and wanted to talk to someone about being depressed.

Bipolar disorder, formerly called manic depression, is a mental health condition that causes extreme mood swings that include emotional highs (mania or hypo-mania) and lows (depression).

BEING BIPOLAR

Being bipolar for me is like being on a roller coaster and bumper cars at the same time. There are constant emotional ups and downs, with bumps along the way. Sometimes, the bumps are minor and not a big deal, but then a Major BUMP happens, and coping is twice as hard as just the emotional ups and downs. But with bipolar disorder, I cannot get off the roller coaster / bumping car, and the cycle keeps repeating itself.

The exact cause of bipolar disorder isn’t known, but a combination of genetics, environment, and altered brain structure, diet and chemistry may play a role. Manic episodes may include symptoms such as high energy, fast talking, changing subjects frequently, loss of concentration for a project and moving on to another project, reduced need for sleep, and sometimes a loss of touch with reality. This highly energized level of physical and mental activity and behavior is a change from your usual self and is noticeable by others. The hypo-manic episodes are less intense than the manic, and still noticeable by others. The average age of onset of bipolar disorder is around 20 to 40 years of age.

Depressive episodes may include symptoms such as low energy, low motivation, and loss of interest in daily activities. Mood episodes last days to months at a time and may also be associated with suicidal thoughts. Treatment is usually lifelong and often involves a combination of medications and psychotherapy.

Bipolar 1 disorder: People with bipolar I disorder have experienced one or more episodes of mania. Most people with bipolar 1 will have episodes of both mania and depression, but an episode of depression isn’t necessary for a diagnosis. The depressive episodes usually last at least two weeks. To be diagnosed with bipolar 1, your manic episodes must last at least seven days or be so severe that you need hospitalization. People with bipolar 1 can also experience mixed states (episodes of both manic and depressive symptoms).

Bipolar 2 disorder: People with bipolar 2 experience depressive episodes and hypo-manic episodes. But they never experience a full manic episode that’s characteristic of bipolar 1 disorder. While hypo-mania is less impairing than mania, bipolar 2 disorder is often more debilitating than bipolar 1 disorder due to chronic depression being more common in bipolar 2.

COPING WITH BIPOLAR

Most of my coping mechanisms include music. I sing to help bring me out of depression. I have also learned it is okay to be sad, and when I realize I am sad, I figure out what caused the sadness, look at my watch and decide I am only going to be sad for a set amount of time. Then I pull myself up by the bootstraps, by putting on praise and worship music, I sing to myself and God. I will watch some Joseph Prince videos, (one of my favorite Bible teachers) and it is done. And God is SO GOOD; this works. In case you have not figured it out, I fall under bipolar 2 disorder. I know, that I know, that I know God will HEAL ME, whether, here or when I get to my heavenly home, until then I stick to my meds, and therapy sessions.

When I started my psychotherapy, I would think about this song by Keith Green, HE’LL TAKE CARE OF THE REST (1977) and one line from the song became my tag line on all my emails, and I put it as a tag line here in the blogs.

You know, it ain’t no use banging your head Up against that cold stone wall ‘Cause nobody’s perfect except for the Lord And even the best’s bound to fall Remember He is the vine and you are the branch
He loves to get you through it if you give Him a chance Just keep doing your best and pray that it’s blessed Jesus takes care of the rest

Chorus:

Yes, the Lord said He’ll take care of the rest He’s gonna do it He’ll take care of the rest He’ll see you through it, yeah Well, He’ll take care of the rest The devil blew it Well, He’ll take care of, He’ll take care of the rest.

Here is a link if you would like to hear the song sung by Keith Green. Be blessed … until next time.

MOUSE EARS

Posted on February 4, 2023 by Linda Cobourn

No one tears a patch from a new garment and sews it on an old one. If he does, he will have torn the new garment, and the patch from the new will not match the old.(Luke 5:3)

A NEEDED PATCH

“Can you fix him?” Four year old Dennis asked, holding out to me his Mickey Mouse doll, minus one ear.

I inspected it carefully. “The seam is ripped,” I told him. “And some of the stuffing has come out. I can sew the old ear back on and mend the rip.”

“I don’t know where it is,” murmured Dennis. “I looked all over. I can’t find it!” Tears started forming in the corners of his eyes.

Seated next to me, my sister-in-law eyed it. “You could ask for a new one for your birthday,” she suggested cheerfully. “That’s just two weeks away.”

Dennis pulled the well-loved stuffy into his arms. “No!” he said. “I don’t want a NEW Mickey. I want Mom to fix THIS one!” He buried his head in the Mickey doll and started to sob.

“It’s alright,” I said and pulled my son onto my lap. “I can make a new ear. But it won’t look the same as the old one. It won’t match.”

“That’s okay,” said Dennis. “It’ll still be MY Mickey!”

OLD FOR NEW

My son’s reluctance to consider trading his well-loved toy for a new one is not very different from the attitude of the Pharisees that confronted Jesus when He brought changes to the customary forms of worship Judaism required. “But we’ve always done it THIS way!” I can imagine them whining as they stood in the doorway of Matthew’s home, watching Jesus dine with other tax collectors and those considered to be sinners.

While Jesus was having dinner at Matthew’s house, many tax collectors and sinners came and ate with him and his disciples. When the Pharisees saw this, they asked his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?”

Jesus answered them, “It is not those who are well who need a physician, but those who are sick. I have not come to call the righteous but sinners to repentance” (Luke 5:31-32).

To further illustrate the need to “cast off the old and embrace the new”, Jesus used the parable of the patched clothing:

No one tears a patch from a new garment and sews it on an old one. If he does, he will have torn the new garment, and the patch from the new will not match the old.(Luke 5:3)

FINDING A PATCH

I thought about this parable the next day as I sorted through my sewing basket, hunting for a piece of fabric that would most nearly match the missing Mickey ear. I had black fabric, but it wasn’t the same soft velour as the original. It would have to do. I laid the fabric out and started to cut around it, thinking about the many times I had patched rips and tears in clothing.

Putting new patches on old clothing extended the use of my kids’ clothes. But was I doing it in other areas of my life?

Raised in a church that valued tradition and over-complicated the message of salvation, I had sometimes tried to keep the old with the new, praying the standard prayers I had learned to tick off with beads instead of allowing my spirit to guide my words. I told myself I honored my mother–whose church had meant a lot to her–in this way. I realized that I was doing exactly what Jesus had said NOT to do; I was trying to combine two things that did not belong together.

A NEW PIECE

I studied Dennis’ doll carefully. One ear was still in place, so I could simply fashion another ear from the black scrap cloth. But perhaps it would be better, I mused, to make the new ear entirely different. A piece of yellow corduroy soon replaced the missing piece. And while my son was happy with the result, the presence of that yellow ear reminded me to stop trying to infuse my old church practices with what I knew as a born-again Christian.

Mickey Mouse remained Dennis’ companion for a few more years, but eventually–as with all old and worn-out things–it, too, took a backseat to the new world of paintbrushes, oils and canvases. Mickey sat on his bed for a while, then found its way into a closet. The last time I saw the doll, it was shoved into a WaWa crate the day Dennis moved out.

Like my son, I needed to move on from the old to the new, embracing the sacrifice of Jesus for my salvation without any further complications.

And while Mickey Mouse is no longer a focal point of my son’s life, Dennis is always the one at his art studio called upon to draw the Disney character for company events.

We replace old ideas as we grow, but we can still learn from where we’ve been.

Fresh Words: A Pause Between the Old and New

Posted on January 21, 2023 by Linda Cobourn

Editor’s note: This week’s post is from our “Good News From a Leaky Pen” writer.

By Marian Humphrey

Psalm 126:2 ….The Lord has done great things….

A New Vision

The new Atonement Church vision for 2023 will be revealed soon. I am so excited, yet compelled to ponder where I ended this year in my spiritual growth from the view of 2022’s scripture, Psalm 126: 2. It seems that remembering that will aid in starting on an upward path when handed the next goal.

I immediately think of the huge burst of sensing the gift of perpetual joy I received this year. It seems like suddenly, what once was a tiny, almost hidden, sprout of joy has burst into a full-grown tree. That has led to a closer, trusting relationship with God than ever before. The minute I don’t feel that deep abiding joy, it’s a “no brainer” now to run first to my compassionate God for His love and guidance and get a jolt of joy that is my strength in both tough situations and the good. That’s one great thing God has done! In the past I may have spent more time trying to figure stuff out before leaning on my Lord. Thank you, Atonement Church, for being a huge catalyst of that Great God thing in my life!

The Tiny Details

It’s also amazing that God bothers, even loves, to help in the tiny details of my life, like unveiling my hidden keys. The Almighty God created the whole universe; stretched out the stars, directed the seas and the winds and the spin of our earth. He also peeks down to count every hair on each of our heads we have already shed or will shed during each of our lives. This powerful God, who sets kings over the nations and bounces them off their thrones, cares not only for daisies and pigeons, but chooses to look through a microscope in order to tend to that tiny hangnail or paper cut that besets us.

I think the Huge tiny things He does strikes me more than ever this year because I am bolder at asking folks in and out of the church body if they want me to pray for a problem or a hurt they mention. Some say yes, yet many say things like, “it’s OK, I’m still alive” or, “He has more important things to worry about.” That makes me more aware of how easy it is for me to even unknowingly do the same thing.

A Beacon of Light

It’s so easy to try to put God in a box. The truth is He is well able and longs to bring us into wholeness. That’s because He dearly loves us and wants us to express more of His nature and perform more acts, even miracles, than He did when on earth. He even said so in John 14:12. It goes way beyond our capability of understanding or perhaps desire to tremble and “lose ourselves” to be changed in His powerful presence.

Now know more than ever before, whatever God has in mind for each of us is for our good. I so look forward to His fresh Word for 2023 as a beacon of light on the path for this church in order to come closer to Him than ever! I anticipate continuing to celebrate with all of you throughout our struggles and testimonies; all our new adventures because of our awareness of the Great things He has already done.

So, Happy New 2023 Beginnings, everyone!

THE NAMING OF ALL CREATION

Posted on January 11, 2023 by Linda Cobourn

by Linda Cobourn and Valerie Pilkington

EDITOR’S NOTE: Both Valerie and I lost beloved pets recently. Since we had similar reactions, I asked Valerie if we could Co-author this piece.

Then I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and on the sea, and all that is in them, saying: “To him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb be praised and honor and glory and power, for ever and ever!” (Revelation 5:13 NIV)

JUST IN TIME

Valerie was home just in time that Sunday, December 4. She saw her beloved pet, Rascal Skye, struggle towards her from his bed, his legs hardly able to hold him up. Gently, she scooped him up in her arms and sat with his furry body on her lap, cuddling and telling him that he was loved. She prayed for peace, for both Rascal and herself, because losing an animal–one of God’s creations–is hard. Along with the hollow space we know will occur, it causes us to realize the fragility of our earthly lives. Little Rascal, nine years old, passed quietly in Valerie’s arms.

Linda called out on her way down the stairs, “Sorry breakfast is late, Butterscotch! It’s a snow day from school!” She peeked into the kitchen on the morning of December 23, fully expecting to see the head of her orange cat peeking out of his box. But there was no little head. She turned toward the living room, and there lay her seventeen year old cat in his basket, already in the arms of Jesus.

WORDS OF THANKS

Despite their sorrow and their losses, both Valerie and Linda were able to praise God for the circumstances of these deaths. Valerie put it this way:

I was in shock and could not think of what to do. Thank God for friends like Patty Bailey, who ministers to people with her gentle spirit and compassion for all around her. In hindsight, I realized two things.

God is so good; he sustained Rascal Skye until I got home. I picked him up and prayed with him in my arms, asking Jesus to hold onto us. Within two minutes, he passed, in my arms. My 9 year old cat whom I loved dearly was gone. For now.

Secondly, I remembered, God created him, and me, and when I get to my Heavenly home, Rascal Skye and all my animals will meet me again. I really believe that ALL animals will be in heaven because God created them. If He did not want them around, he would not have created them.

Linda, too, was certain that Butterscotch was now in Heaven. When she called her son, Allen, down from his bedroom, she told him that their cat was now with Allen’s father, Ron, and enjoying the new and youthful body God had given to him. She had much to praise God for on that difficult day. Linda had this to say:

I should have been at work, but the weather had forced a snow day so I was home and found the cat and I am so grateful Allen did not find him by himself. I’d known for a few days that Butterscotch’s time with us was nearing the end; he’d been getting slower and sleeping a lot in the last few days. The night before, Allen and I had brought him into the living room with us. We cuddled him and told him we loved him; we fed him little snacks and told him what a good cat he had been. Eventually, he jumped down and ran back to his box in the kitchen. I wonder now if our messages of love–that he had fulfilled his mission as a cat–had been what he needed to hear. It’s like we gave him permission to leave us for Heaven.

Here on earth, our vision is limited. We cannot see all God has designed for us. When we get to Heaven we, our loved ones and our animals, will live in new bodies that will not age. We will no longer see “through a glass darkly” (I Corinthians 13:112, KJV), but we will see all the colors of the spectrum, every detail of God’s creation.

CREATION WILL BE AT PEACE

Valerie, whose musings as a musician leads her towards lyrics of music, shares these words from “Creation will be at peace”:

In the holy mountain of the Lord all war and strife will cease; in the holy mountain of the Lord creation will be at peace. The wolf will lie down with the lamb, the cow and bear will feed,
their young will play together; a little child will lead, a little child will lead.

In the holy mountain of the Lord all war and strife will cease;
In the holy mountain of the Lord creation will be at peace. The leopard and goat will graze, the lion will feed on straw. They will war no more, they will war no more; a child will lead them all, will lead them all.

In the holy mountain of the Lord all war and strife will cease; In the holy mountain of the Lord creation will be at peace.

Here’s the link to the video so you can listen. Creation will be at peace

THE NAMING OF CATS

Linda, whose soul breathes poetry, wanted to share these words from TS Eliot:

The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter,

It isn’t just one of your holiday games;

You may think at first I’m as mad as a hatter

When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES.

There is, of course, the name Adam gave when he named each creature God brought before him (Genesis 2:20).There is the name we, as the temporary family of a cat, bestow upon him. And, according to Eliot, there is a secret name known only to the Cat and His Creator. Perhaps that’s the reason a cat will suddenly stop in his tracks, cock his head to the side, and listen. God is calling his name!

Here’s the rest of TS Eliot’s poem.The Naming of Cats

As Valerie, Linda, and Allen all mourn the passing of their furry friends, they want to remind you that any separation from our loved ones is temporary. God has promised us we will be together again.

And he will know ALL our names.

Your righteousness is like the highest mountains, your justice like the great deep. You, Lord, preserve both people and animals. Psalm 36:6

Dad’s Coat: A Christmas Story

Posted on January 7, 2023 by Linda Cobourn

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

Editor’s Note: Last year, December 2021, I sent this to the faculty at my school. Brother David, who was now serving in Detroit, responded with this note: I will never forget the way that God used me as a tool in this story. Angels are still with us.

A GIFT FOR DAD

Allen and I are wrapping Christmas presents, enjoying a “Dad moment” as we remember the crazy shapes Ron would wrap presents in so no one could guess the contents. Allen sticks a bow onto a gift–just a plain old shirt box–and whispers to me conspiratorially, “I already knew what I was getting Dad for Christmas.”

“Really?” I say in surprise. “Dad died in July. How could you already know what he needed?”

Allen sighs. I know he is processing the words that will make sense to both him and me. Reconciling himself to his father’s death five months ago has not been an easy process and he is still uncertain of Heaven.

“Back when I thought Dad might come back…” his voice catches “…I was thinking that Dad needed to be safe and protected. You know, from all the illnesses and stuff.” He looks at me for confirmation and I nod. “So, I wanted to get him a big coat–like the firemen wear–to protect him.”

As always, I am touched by the heart of my autistic son whose concern for his ill father was a focus of most of his life. It is a moment before I can trust my voice to answer. “I am sure Dad would have appreciated that,” I say. “But you know, we gave Dad a new coat last year.“He only wore it once.”

Allen does not reply. He picks up another gift to wrap. “I still wish I could give Dad something.”

So do I, I want to say. But a person who is living in the Heavenly Kingdom has no need of material items. Still, how could we honor Ron and his life? I begin to recall the gifts of years past and the many, many years when we had no money to give anything to each other and scraped together Christmas for our kids. Then, a thought enters my mind.

A COAT OF HOPE

“You know,” I say casually, “my school is collecting things to give to the homeless population in

Philadelphia. Every Tuesday, Brother David takes a group down to Center City and gives out hats and gloves and scarves.” I take a moment to fight back tears. “How about if we give Dad’s coat away?”

Allen considers it. “We’re sure Dad won’t need it?”

I shake my head. “No. Dad has no need of a coat. You know where he is, Allen. You know he’s not coming back.”

There is a sigh. Allen’s acceptance of his father’s death is still tenuous. “I know,” he whispers.“Sometimes I just like to pretend he is.”

“That’s okay,” I say. “It’s okay to pretend that. So, what do you think? Should we give Dad’s coat away?” I go on wrapping presents as his atypical mind processes the information.

Finally, there is a nod. “Okay. Can I be the one to put it in a bag?”

“Of course,” I say.

The next morning, I pick up the bag Allen has left on the enclosed porch and carry it out to the car. Even though I was the one who suggested it, I am strangely reluctant to give the coat away. It seems so final.

I bought the coat a year ago with hope: hope that Ron’s physical therapy would help him improve to the point where he might be able to leave the house; hope that with assistance from his nursing aid and the elevator at church he might once again be able to join me at Sunday services; hope that a few small steps taken outside on the sidewalk might lead to a walk around the park, a Saturday in the spring sitting on a park bench watching the boats sail down the Delaware River, a family outing to a Phillies’ game.

None of which happened. I feel the weight of the lost hopes as I heft the bag into my car and drive to school, my eyes smarting tears, my heart breaking. I carry it into the school and it sits behind my desk, an accusation. Why did I continue to hope? Why did I continue to think things would get better?

Finally, I ask a student to carry the damning bag upstairs to Brother David. I can breathe easier when it is gone. Back home, I only tell Allen I have given the coat to the school.

CHRISTMAS AS A WIDOW

During the days up to Christmas–my first as a widow– I struggle to maintain some Christmas cheer. I engage with my students and the Christmas traditions of a Catholic high school in the best ways I can: the Ugly Sweater Day, the cookie exchange, the Secret Santa pick. At home I collapse after supper, going to bed early and waking up still tired. I plod along, expending emotional energy at school and with Allen, and helping my two older children as much as I can. I pack away more of Ron’s clothing for the Good Will donations and I order his grave marker at the cemetery. I put up a small tree for Allen and me, I unpack decorations.

I function.

It is the day before school breaks for Christmas and I am getting my classroom ready for the students that arrive before the first bell, students who are still learning English and crave the warm safety of my ESL room. I am humming “O Holy Night” and taking deep breaths whenever I think of my late husband.

Ron loved Christmas. Everyday, I swim through the thick memories to surface with my students.

HOPE FULFILLED

I am switching on the lights when Brother David appears at my door. “Merry Christmas,” he says. “I wanted you to know,” he continues, “that your husband’s coat found a home yesterday. We were able to give it to a homeless man who was very appreciative.”

My heart swells even as tears spring to my eyes. I can feel Ron’s warm smile bathing me. My husband had a generous heart.

“But it’s amazing how it happened,” says Brother David. “We’d had the coat a few weeks, you know, but we didn’t meet anyone that needed a 4-X coat. Then, on Tuesday, a large man came by and said he’d been looking for a coat but he could never find one to fit him. He said he didn’t often come down near City Hall, but someone he didn’t know told him to come see us. So he came down and there we were. And your husband’s coat fits him perfectly.”

I nod but find I cannot speak.

“He said,” Brother David continued, “that he’d been offered some construction work over the holidays but he knew he needed something warm to wear. He’d just about given up finding a coat. He was wearing a couple of sweat shirts, but that’s all he had. When we gave him the coat, he cried. He said it gave him hope that he could turn his life around.”

I am crying right now, realizing that the hope I held for the coat I’d bought for Ron had been fulfilled after all. Brother David reaches out and hugs me. All day, I hide this gift in my heart, thinking of how my son will react when I tell him his father’s coat is now protecting someone else.

Back home again, Allen has hot tea ready for me and I settle into my chair. “Dad’s coat found a home today,” I tell him. I tell him the story from Brother David. Allen smiles, then is thoughtful for a moment.

“We should hang up Dad’ stocking,” he says. “Because it feels like Dad is still here.”

“He still is,” I say as Allen dives into the box of Christmas decorations to retrieve the stocking. “And he always will be.”

Should Christians Grieve?

Posted on December 29, 2022 by Linda Cobourn

EDITOR’S NOTE: Today’s blog post is written by E W Tryens. I want to thank Liz for sharing with us a something we all experience.

For God hath not given us a spirit of fear but of power and love and of a sound mind.

2 Timothy 1: 6–7 KJV.

Those Who Love Grieve

Throughout the Bible are examples of individuals who love or were loved deeply and passionately. Jesus himself wept when his friend Lazarus died and his sister confronted Jesus on His late arrival, saying, “ Were you here our brother would not have died.” ( John 11:21). We can hear and understand the grief of Martha and Mary!

Can Christians grieve a loved one, and remain in fellowship while dealing with sorrow and possible anger towards God for their loss? Emotions are not truth, only the Word is truth. Your emotional reaction to a situation is always under your control. God – who loves us– gave us love, compassion, joy, peace, courage, and other wonderful emotions; He also gave us the ability to grieve, be angry, sorrow, and more. He would not give us deep emotions without a way to control them. Our response to grief is always in our control.

You can grieve many different things, not just people but hope and other intangibles. Jesus was so grieved with Israel’s disregard for the law that He turned over the tables of the money changers.

Use Your Emotions as God Intended

Deep emotions are not wrong but must be used in a Godly manner. The answer is yes, not only should you grieve but you must grieve to heal. If you’ve ever had a cut that became infected, you drain it before healing begins; emotions are the same. You must experience grief to move on to a healthy grieving process. Christ is the Lord of our life which includes emotions.

For Those Who Grieve

While we live in a sinful world, grief will come to all of us. God has provided us with the resources we will need on our grief journeys. God our Father knows we need to grieve.

Lamentations is an entire book of the Bible devoted to grief .

My eyes are worn out from weeping; I am churning within. My heart is poured out in grief because of the destruction of my dear people, because infants and nursing babies faint in the streets of the city. (Lamentations 2:11 CSB)

Once again, Christ is the Lord of our life. Every part is subject to His love and the guidance of the Holy Spirit can heal us by renewing our minds to the Word. We are not to grieve as natural men who are hopeless without God.

Study to shew thyself approved unto God, a workman that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth. (2 Timothy 2:15 KJV)

There are stages of grieving:

DENIAL I can’t have cancer
ANGER I hate GOD
BARGAINING If God heals me I’ll stop drinking
DEPRESSION Life is awful
ACCEPTANCE I control nothing

There are no rules with grieving. It can last for years. The important thing is you are involved in a process. Your grieving is taking you towards healing.

One step at a time.

If God’s Love Is Unconditional, Why Isn’t It For Me?

Posted on December 15, 2022 by Linda Cobourn

Good News From a Leaky Pen

Today’s blog writer is Marian Humphrey who wants to share with us how she came to be a child of God. Thanks for sharing your journey with us!

There is no fear in Love, because perfect Love expels all fear…( 1 John 4:18)

THE LOVE TEST

Typing Love with a capital L in this scripture was no mistake. Love is Jesus’ essential name because that’s the core of His nature; and He is the only one who can get rid of anyone’s fear. I “speak” that boldly, because throughout 44 of my 83 years of life, I have tried all sorts of schemes using my own imagination as an atheist, and eventually thinking there might be a spiritual world, so trying out several gods who failed the love test before meeting Jesus and experiencing His “brand” of unconditional love over time.

My “other god” exploration ended abruptly when I was totally freaked out by a death threatening–allegedly “good witchcraft” meditation –while alone in my house. That was 39 years ago when I felt desperate for a miraculous healing, so I invited myself to go to a friend’s church since healing took place there. I told her, “It seems since each human is unique, this thing, this spirit works differently with each one. The methods I tried for fixing myself were not the ones for me. “

When folks were called up for healing at the church, the pastor said, “Jesus can heal anyone, but while you’re up here, if you want, you can accept a personal relationship with Christ.”

I thought, “This ritual is this religion’s custom, so I’ll repeat after him at his request.” In my mind I was not hungry for God but for a quick fix; I was just following their rules like I did when experimenting with other gods.

A FRESH NEW BABY

God knew what I was really seeking because I went home healed of my ailment and born again! I was a fresh new baby with a new heart. Even my husband noticed a bright new look in my eyes, one sign that Jesus is who He says He is. Thus began my perfectly joyful, problem free life in Christ as He was now in me as I was in Him, just as the Bible says in John 15:4 and other scriptures. Right?

Somehow, I got the message life would now be a cake walk, as if I was now “fixed”. After all, I was learning that Jesus had deposited love, joy, and all good traits in me when I invited Him into my heart and His love casts out all fear. I thought I would be in constant ecstasy with God.

Of course, my joyful testimony about my new life would make my family and friends want to jump on my bandwagon. What a shock to find that was not so! In fact, I made those I loved the most think my God must be some sort of freak and with alien rules, as I preached and begged them to follow my lead so they wouldn’t go to Hell. After all, notice how righteous I had become. I even suddenly insisted on changing the rules in our family, like no more Halloween after years of homemade costumes and plenty of candy. All that was supposed to accept my loving God.

No one told me right off the bat, just as a new born baby, spits up, yells, and gulps down tons of milk and is very needy for constant care, so a new babe in Christ needs continual guidance by mature Christians and by hearing and studying God’s word. It wasn’t clear to me that though I was born again with a new spiritual heart, my mind, my will and my emotions needed time; lots of time. In fact, a whole lifetime to change, to grow up into maturity to be more like Christ. That’s just like a kid who has to grow with time and training to become a mature adult.

THE HONEYMOON IS OVER

Experiencing the reactions I was getting from those I was hurting with my untamed power caused me to believe more in the old worthless image of myself than in the new person developing in me. The honeymoon with God was over. My brand of brokenness had me struggling for years with retaining that joy that comes only with knowing just how much God loves me. If I wasn’t thinking and acting perfectly, then He had a right to be standoffish in a ready -to-punish- me-stance, I thought. How could I come unabashedly into the lap of a father who might cast me off? How could I truly rest behind His armor, His breastplate of righteousness and abandon my own defenses if I wasn’t good enough for His protection?

I felt for years needy to borrow other peoples loving faith in God and their listening ear to help build my trust in God. I was one of those who wasn’t “quickly getting over myself” so I was setting myself up for more feelings of aloneness.

FINE TUNING MY EARS

Fortunately, at last I have that ongoing sense of joy and peace that comes with knowing that in all circumstances and all times God continually loves me even in all my moods and doings. Because of my struggles, I am more determined than ever to meet each person I encounter with love and acceptance right where they are with encouragement. That motivates me to allow God to fine tune my listening ears and loving heart through leaning into His still small voice or accepting His discipline.

I always loved the first 2 sentences of the 1 John 4:18 scripture that began this message, but ignored the last one I left out. It is often stated, “The one who fears God’s punishment is not made perfect in love,” which seemed to confirm how hopelessly worthless I was. Now I understand it means that the fearful person has not yet “grown into a sufficient understanding of God’s love” (AMP).

May we all continue to be encouraged and encouraging of each other to grow perfectly united in Love as the body of Christ!

Have You Prayed for Your Pastors Today?

Posted on December 7, 2022 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!

“But those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength. They shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.” (Isaiah 40:31 NKJV).

A few weeks ago I was signing in at the welcome table, and picked up a refrigerator magnet with the quote, “Have you Prayed for your Pastors Today?” and I paid special attention especially to the benediction Pastor Amy gave, The Lord bless you And keep you... etc. WE HAVE ALL BEEN BLESSED for the coming week, a special prayer blessing right from the Throne of God HIMSELF. For I will pour water on him who is thirsty, And floods on the dry ground; I will pour My Spirit on your descendants, And My blessing on your offspring. (Isaiah 44:3 NKJV). Oh, may we always be thirsty for God’s WORD.

Do we realize how much our pastors do for us, and how they give their lives away? Amy, as our Shepard and preacher, and our example of love for our congregation, cares about each one of us, and it shows. Jeff as our Holy Ghost preacher uses Joy and enthusiasm as he preaches and prays, and Cliff as our evangelist leader, has the calling on his life to seek and save those who are lost; let us go get the lost.

Does anyone else remember the cards that Pastor Amy passed out to all of us? There are 3 “ x 8” cards to keep in our Bibles, with references such as: Everyday Prayers for your Spiritual Battle, Prayers of Repentance, Prayers for the Prodigals, and many other titles.

One such card is: Scripture-Based Prayers to Pray for Your Pastor. I love these cards: this one has specific categories, to pray over our pastors, such as Victory, Protection, Priorities and many more. I believe we should pray these over our pastors, but I noticed that there was no category for Rest and Refreshing in the Holy Spirit. We all need this Rest and Refreshing, especially our Pastors who take care of us and point us to Jesus, and send us out into the world around us. (If you want a card, this is located in the hall between the main entrance and the nursery, go pick one up).

I found some wonderful scripture on the rest and refreshing:

And so it was, whenever the spirit from God was upon Saul, that David would take a harp and play it with his hand. Then Saul would become refreshed and well, and the distressing spirit would depart from him (1 Samuel 16:23)
He restores my soul; He leads me in the paths of righteousness For His name’s sake. (Psalm 23:3)
The Lord grant mercy to the household of Onesimus, for he often refreshed me, and was not ashamed of my chain; 2 Timothy 1:16

Even Paul needed this rest and refreshing. Not to mention as I pray for someone,(and sing over them), I also get from the Holy Spirit, PEACE, JOY and an overabundance of God’s LOVE, and yes a Refreshing comes into my soul.

Do you really want a refreshing? Please listen to : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QnC7z03QkEM. If the link does not work, please look up The Blessing, by Kari Jobe on You Tube. The lyrics are primarily taken from passages of Scripture: the priestly blessing of Aaron in Numbers 6:22-27

The Lord bless you And keep you Make His face shine upon you And be gracious to you The Lord turn His Face toward you And give you peace Amen.
May His favor be upon you And a thousand generations And your family and your children And their children, and their children May His presence go before you And behind you, and beside you All around you, and within you He is with you, He is with you In the morning, in the evening In your coming, and your going In your weeping, and rejoicing He is for you, Amen.
“The LORD your God in your midst, The Mighty One, will save; He will rejoice over you with gladness, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing.” (Zephaniah 3:17).

Let’s pray and sing over our Pastors, the REST and REFRESHING comes on us ALL.

The Ghosts of Christmas Past

Posted on November 30, 2022 by Linda Cobourn

“But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.” (Isaiah 40:31)

Before my husband’s death in 2019, many of our holidays were spent in hospitals or emergency rooms. Despite the locale, we counted on Jesus to keep our hope alive. This post was originally published in December of 2014.

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Who, and what are you?” Scrooge demanded.
“I am the Ghost of Christmas Past.”
“Long Past?” inquired Scrooge: observant of its dwarfish stature.
“No. Your past.”

THE GHOST OF CHRISTMAS PAST

The Ghost of Christmas Past greets me at the doorway of the Emergency Room. Instantly, I am catapulted back to other holidays spent in hospital, waiting for tests or surgeries or hope. The waiting room is almost vacant, and decorations of pink and purple hang on the artificial pine tree and from the ceiling. They are cheerful colors, but lack the warmth of traditional Christmas red and green. “Happy Holidays,” says the guard who takes my purse and asks me if I am carrying any knives or guns.

“Merry Christmas, ” I respond. “I am sorry you have to be here today.” She shrugs and beckons me through the metal detector while she rifles through my purse for contraband, then nods at me. The Ghost of Christmas Past, not used to such newfangled technology, has waited for me on the other side and joins me in my walk down the corridor I know only too well. Another urinary tract infection has sent Ron to the hospital early this morning and he now awaits a CT scan. Bah, humbug.

Scrooge entered timidly, and hung his head before this Spirit. He was not the dogged Scrooge he had been; and though the Spirit’s eyes were clear and kind, he did not like to meet them.

“I am the Ghost of Christmas Present,” said the Spirit. “Look upon me.

Christmas Present is waiting at the house. The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, and the kids–all grownups–are coming at 3:00 for supper. I could call them and tell them not to come, of course, and they would understand. But life goes on. The lessons learned from the last fifteen years assures us of this: a holiday celebrated in hospital is still a holiday. And my grown-up offspring have not all been in the same place at the same time since October.

Ron is relatively cheerful. The morphine infusion helps. There are times I wish I had one. He may or may not be home in time for dinner. In the meantime, plans will go on. I will, as usual, balance it all out. I leave before he comes back from the CT scan. I will check back later to see how he is doing.

There is no parking charge today, a Christmas gift from the good people of Colonial Parking. I have probably paid enough in parking fees over the last fifteen years to warrant my own VIP spot. On the drive back home, alone, the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come hovers over my head; is this, then, what my life is doomed to be like? Will I forever be trying to outrun the shadows of Ron’ illnesses?

THE GHOST OF CHRISTMAS YET TO COME

“I am in the presence of the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come?” said Scrooge.
The Spirit answered not, but pointed downward with its hand.
“You are about to show me shadows of the things that have not happened, but will happen in the time before us,” Scrooge pursued. “Is that so, Spirit?”

The upper portion of the garment was contracted for an instant in its folds, as if the Spirit had inclined its head. That was the only answer he received.

Back home, Allen and I turn on some Christmas music and start dinner, trying to keep our own Christmas spirits alive. Allen wishes for “just a little snow” to make it look more like Christmas, but we agree that Christmas is more a feeling than scenery. “Sometimes,” says my son, “people act more like Scrooge.” And as I prepare the potato casserole for the oven, I think this over.

For those who have never had 9th grade English, let me give you a brief lesson. Ebeneezer Scrooge is the protagonist of Charles Dickens’ 1843 story, “A Christmas Carol,” an essay written for the dual purpose of paying off debts Dickens owed to his publisher and bringing to public attention the plight of the poor in Victorian England. In fact, while Christmas has been celebrated since the fourth century when Pope Julius I chose December 25 as the day to mark the “Feast of the Nativity,” it was Dickens’ story that shaped much of our Christmas traditions of today, such as “goodwill and peace to all men.” Since the publication of “A Christmas Carol”, the story has never been out of print and has been adapted for 22 stage productions, 2 operas, 4 recordings, at least 10 radio broadcasts, 49 loosely based TV show adaptations and 20 film versions. “Carol” is a story of redemption, of the ability of one man to remake himself with the help of supernatural beings. Dickens himself was not overly religious in the traditional sense and the birth of Jesus as the reason for Christmas is only referred to in Bob Cratchit’s comment about Tiny Tim:

“Somehow he gets thoughtful sitting by himself so much, and thinks the strangest things you ever heard. He told me, coming home, that he hoped the people saw him in the church, because he was a cripple, and it might be pleasant to them to remember upon Christmas Day, who made lame beggars walk, and blind men see.

The story of redemption is prevalent this time of year; just look to the black and white Hollywood classics to see what I mean. Beginning with “Penny Serenade” in 1941, all the way through 1946’s “It’s a Wonderful Life” and ending with “Miracle on 34th Street” circa 1947, the story of redemption through the elusive Christmas spirit is clear. We may all, as Allen observes, act a little like Scrooge at times, but with a little help from our friends–even supernatural ones–we can change.

THE GHOST OF CHRISTMAS PRESENT

And this is what carries me through another Christmas Day, waiting for a call from the hospital, humming Christmas Carols as I spike the punch bowl. (Hey, spirits can help in more ways than one.) Redemption is possible. Change is possible.

“What’s to-day?” cried Scrooge, calling downward to a boy in Sunday clothes, who perhaps had loitered in to look about him.
“Eh?” returned the boy, with all his might of wonder.
“What’s to-day, my fine fellow?” said Scrooge.
“To-day?” replied the boy. “Why, Christmas Day.”

“It’s Christmas Day!” said Scrooge to himself. “I haven’t missed it. The Spirits have done it all in one night. They can do anything they like. Of course they can. Of course they can.

There is always, then, hope. The Scrooge who exclaimed “Bah, humbug!” to nephew Fred’s invitation to dine is replaced by the man who “knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge.”

Redemption of any kind does not, Ebeneezer reminds me, depend on snow or presents or turkey dinner or the date on the calendar. It depends on how we view and hold Christmas and all its meanings forever in our hearts. It is purposeful; we make the choice to keep it, or not to keep it.

“I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future!” Scrooge repeated, as he scrambled out of bed. “The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. Oh Jacob Marley! Heaven, and the Christmas Time be praised for this. I say it on my knees, old Jacob, on my knees!”

May all of you keep Christmas forever in your hearts!

Even in hospital.

Pocket Prayers

Posted on November 17, 2022 by Linda Cobourn

By Linda Waltersdorf Cobourn, EdD

Give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus. (I Thessalonians 5:18 NIV)

An Unexpected Call

My cell phone rang, interrupting the presentation I was giving in my graduate class. I looked at Dr. Beeghly apologetically. “Only my kids have this number,” I said. “And they know I have class tonight. They would only call if it was an emergency.”

My instructor nodded. “Take it in the hallway.”

I felt my heartbeat quicken as I stopped out of the classroom. Ever since my husband’s car accident several years ago, emergency phone calls had punctuated my daily life. I had learned to live with the storms. I pushed the answer button and said, “Hello.”

“Mom,” said my daughter Bonnie, “we’re at the Emergency Room. Dad’s incision opened up and started to bleed. The doctor says it looks bad.”

I forced myself to remain calm. I got the information from my daughter, ended the call, and walked back into my classroom. Quietly, I approached the professor.

“I need to leave,” I told her. “My kids have taken my husband to the hospital.” I took a deep breath. “I’ll finish my presentation next week.”

Well aware of Ron’s health issues, Dr. Beeghly said, “Go take care of your family. And you have your A.”

I quickly gathered my coat and book bag and left Radisson Hall. Crossing the quad to the parking lot, I began reciting Max Lucado’s “pocket prayer.”

God ,you are good. I love you. I need help. Please handle this. Thank you.

A Night at Sea

Ron’s frequent hospitalizations often left me feeling as if I was in a violent storm with no end in sight, and as I headed towards Crozer Chester Medical Center that night, I recalled the story of the Apostle Paul in Acts 27. Despite the violent seas that threatened to end the lives of all on board the ship, Paul insisted that thanks be given to God. While the Nor’easter beared down on them, Paul urged the sailors to eat and keep up their strength for what was going to be a long night. He took bread and “gave thanks to God in front of them all. Then he broke it and began to eat “ (Acts 27:35, NIV).

The ship survived the night. When morning came, land was spotted and the sailors tried to run the ship aground but were prevented by a sandbar. All aboard, including the prisoners, were instructed to jump overboard and swim. All 276 souls survived and made it to the beach.

Paul’s prayer was not a magic formula for success. He offered his prayer in the midst of dire circumstances. He didn’t need to be thankful for the storm or the possibility of drowning. He needed to be thankful for God.

LISTING MY THANKS

As I pulled into the parking lot of the Emergency Room, an all-too-familiar setting, I listed what I could be thankful for. I had no idea how Ron was doing or what was happening to him, but there were things I DID know.

Bonnie and Allen had been home when Ron’s incision split open.
Bonnie had a car and Allen was able to help get his dad into it.
My kids knew what to do in an emergency. They did not panic.

And I, too, knew what to do in an emergency.

God, you are good. God, you are great. I love You. I trust You. I need help. Ron needs help. Thank you for handling this.

I had no idea what awaited me beyond the doors of the hospital but I did know that I could continue to trust and thank God for His presence in this latest storm.

ALL THE TIME

As Pastor Cliff pointed out to us this past Sunday, we don’t need to thank God for the storms of our lives. During the long years of Ron’s illnesses and surgeries, it never occurred to me that they were things I needed to be thankful for. But I did–and continue to–thank Him for His abiding presence in my life, the strength He gave me to survive so many of life’s storms, and the love for my husband that continues three years after Ron went Home to Heaven.

In all things, we can thank God. Just because He is God.

Category: Blog