This little light of mine

But God’s walls surround us August 31, 2023

Isaiah 26:1, 3, 8, 12, 19 We are surrounded by the walls of our salvation. … You will keep in perfect peace all who trust in you, all whose thoughts are fixed on you! … Lord, we show our trust in you by obeying your laws; our heart’s desire is to glorify your name. … Lord, you will grant us peace; all we have accomplished is really from you. … For your life-giving light will fall on your people like dew.

I woke up at 4:00 to the rhythms of my husband snoring beside me and my son snoring in the next tent over. My heart filled with thankfulness for these two men, for who they are, for the richness and depth and beauty of what each of them contributes to those around them.

On this early Saturday morning at Raccoon Creek State Park, almost a week ago now, the day before our 46^th anniversary, my mind wandered over God’s faithfulness to us, so amazing. Our marriage had every reason to fail, and honestly, but for David’s stubbornness and God’s grace, it would have. Our life together was off the charts traumatic and stressful for so many years that I came close to an emotional breakdown—long before I was diagnosed with PTSD after Karis’s death. Dave went through periods of depression. The kind where I might open the door to his office to ask him a question and find him lying on the floor in the dark staring blindly at the ceiling.

But God …

Friday evening our family had sat around the campfire singing silly songs, telling stories, even reciting “Jabberwocky.” We had joined our daughter Rachel singing “This Little Light of Mine,” which she had taught three-year-old Liliana to sing when she felt afraid of the dark. Valerie quickly followed with the Portuguese, “Minha pequena luz, vou deixar brilhar …”—so appropriate, because when Val was a teenager, her friends called her “Pequeno raio de luz”—little ray of light.

Here’s the thing: I could so easily have spoiled this precious time together. Not because I got distracted and the sausage hobo meals I had labored over with the “help” of Caleb and Talita—supper for ten of us—burnt to a crisp in the coals of Rachel’s fire. But because of my reaction to this fiasco.

Can you relate?

Everyone else took it in stride and ate more watermelon and s’mores made with Brian’s ginormous marshmallows. Caleb, Talita, and Liliana shrieked with laughter as Uncle Dan chased them around our tents. Baby Juliana blessed us with her marvelous smile and her enthusiasm for crawling not just in the grass but in the dirt.

I was so disappointed though that internally, all kinds of buttons were pushed—the perfectionist button, the “how could you” button, the “you are such a—” button, even the “could this be an early sign of Alzheimer’s” button. I was tempted to make my camp cooking failure an issue for the whole family. To make it about me.

Please tell me I’m not the only one to experience this temptation!

But God let me see instead the family laughing, talking, sharing what we did have to eat, even Cesar finding a consumable bite or two in the cinders of my burnt offering. The light of their smiles, each one of them, shone into the darkness of my heart and chased the shadows away.

This little light of mine … Minha pequena luz … surrounded me like a wall as Rachel and Valerie sang in the glow of the campfire Friday evening. I felt its protection still as I eased through the door of our tent into the dewy grass at the first lightening of the sky the next morning. As we hiked through the lovely woods and the kids swam in the lake. Even as we broke down our camp and said our goodbyes. And as Dave said “Happy anniversary” to me early Sunday.

Borrowing Isaiah’s words, Lord, you have granted us peace; all we have accomplished—even our emotional healing and growth—is really from you. My heart’s desire is to glorify your name.

This is our God

But God will remove the cloud of doom

Isaiah 25:7-9 God will remove the cloud of doom, the shadow of death that hangs over the earth. He will swallow up death forever! The Sovereign Lord will wipe away all tears. … In that day the people will proclaim, “This is our God! We trusted in him, and he saved us! Let us rejoice in the salvation he brings.”

Psalm 68:5 Father to the fatherless, defender of widows—this is God, whose dwelling is holy. God places the lonely in families; he sets the prisoners free and gives them joy.

Revelation 21:4 God himself will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain.

To my surprise, when I walked into church yesterday, Josh was singing “Rock of Ages”! It had nothing to do with my last post–except for me. Josh chose the song based on Isaiah 51:1 and Matthew 16:18. You can listen to Kevin’s challenging sermon on those passages here. You might need to give Wes a day or two to post it.

But I felt chills. I don’t remember hearing that hymn sung in our church. It seemed God was saying back to me, “Remember what you just posted? You, Debbie, too easily forget the Rock who can hide you.”

On my mind was the strong sense that God wanted me to write something very difficult into Book 3, Facing the Faeries 1906, something I will weep over, in my emotional attachment to my characters. And for which I fear criticism and negative pushback. I need to write it this week–my personal little “cloud of doom.”

Shutterstock: Undrey

I took my dilemma to a prayer team. They understood that my challenge is to trust—to trust that God sets prisoners free and gives them joy—even the characters in this book to whom I am inordinately attached. Even me. This is what he does. God reminded me of my “year verse”: Be truly glad. There is wonderful joy ahead, even though you have to endure many trials for a little while (1 Peter 1:6).

As you and I head into the challenges of this new week, let’s take a few minutes to reaffirm our trust in the Lord, and rejoice! Here are three artists to help us, each inspired by Isaiah’s words, “This is our God”:

Chris Tomlin

Phil Wickham

Hillsong

Still watching

But God is the Rock who can hide you

Isaiah 17:10, 18:4, 19:20-25, 24:5, 16 You have turned from the God who can save you. You have forgotten the Rock who can hide you. … For the Lord has told me this: “I will watch quietly from my dwelling place” … The earth suffers for the sins of its people, for they have twisted God’s instructions, violated his laws, and broken his everlasting covenant. My heart is heavy with grief. Deceit still prevails, and treachery is everywhere.

I love this story:

Our family hiked in the Grand Canyon. Dave and Dan (11) had gone on ahead, more ambitious than I was with our three girls, 6, 8, and 10. Suddenly torrential rain poured down on us and the trail became slippery. Should we keep going down or head back up? Not knowing how long this might last, we turned around. Struggling to keep our balance, sliding back as often as we managed progress forward and of course soaked through, we rounded a bend and saw other hikers huddled under a rock overhang. They squeezed together to make room for us. Exhausted and shivering, I watched the grandeur of the tsunami pummeling the valley before us, vaguely aware that one family, with three teenagers, spoke French. Karis focused all her attention on trying to understand what they were saying.

When the storm eased, the mother of the French family, without attempting conversation, took Karis’s and Rachel’s hands and started with them up the trail. This stranger’s kindness freed me to give all my strength to helping little Valerie manage the slick climb. All I knew to say when we reached the top was “Merci. Merci beaucoup.”

Back home in Brazil, Karis started teaching herself French, an interest she pursued through college (adding Spanish and Arabic as well to her Portuguese and English). She was thrilled in high school to be able to visit France, the homeland of that lovingly remembered family.

A cleft in a rock during a storm yielded so much more than just shelter!

As I read Isaiah 17-24 it seemed eerily like today’s news. Syria. Israel. Ethiopia. Egypt. Iraq. Turkey. Jordan. Arabia. Palestine. These places, says Isaiah, are “watched quietly by the Lord” in the hope they will turn to him, away from their greed and selfishness and violence, and be spared anguish and destruction. God’s heart, broken by their betrayal of his covenant of love, is on full display. He longs to be known and for the people to follow his ways of peace and justice.

2,750 years later, we’re no different, are we? God still gives us freedom to decide. He invites us to know and follow him, instead of independently following our own way, suffering the consequences of our foolish choices. He still “watches quietly,” deeply desiring to bless us, wherever we live, whatever language we speak and whatever culture has formed us.

One day, Isaiah 24:14-16 promises:

All who are left will shout and sing for joy.

Those in the west praise the Lord’s majesty.

In eastern lands give glory to the Lord.

In the lands beyond the sea, praise the name of the Lord, the God of Israel.

We hear songs of praise from the ends of the earth,

songs that give glory to the Righteous One!

My song of praise TODAY echoes back through the centuries to gladden God’s heart. I want to remember the place of refuge he offers me in stormy moments. Don’t you? We can hide our souls under the shelter of the Rock of ages as thunder crashes around us.

Here’s a bonus: The Story Behind “Rock of Ages”:

As the young minister traveled through the rugged country near England’s Cheddar Gorge, the clouds burst and torrential sheets of rain pummeled the earth. The weary traveler was able to find shelter standing under a rocky overhang. There, protected from the buffeting wind and rain, Augustus Toplady conceived one of the most popular hymns ever written, “Rock of Ages, cleft for me, let me hide myself in Thee.”

In March 1776 Toplady published the hymn as part of an article in The Gospel Magazine, which he edited. He wrote that just as England could never pay her national debt, so man could never by his own merits satisfy the justice of God. In the middle of the article, he burst into song, printing for the first time the hymn “Rock of Ages”, which so ably describes Christ, the Rock of Ages, as the remedy for all our sin.

Augustus Toplady died of consumption [tuberculosis] at the age of 38. As he neared the end Toplady proclaimed, “My heart beats every day stronger and stronger for glory. Sickness is no affliction, pain no cause, death itself no dissolution…My prayers are now all converted into praise.”

My strength and my song

But God gives victory

Isaiah 12:4 Praise his name! TELL the nations what he has done. Let them know how mighty he is!

This is one of the texts which motivated me to write Karis’s story and to begin this blog.

So, what has the Lord done for you? Remember and Tell! You can use this blog to TELL, to honor him. Send me your one-page story—or song!

Your story matters! It’s an essential part of the great weaving of a tapestry of praise through history and around the world.

Woman weaving in Sololá, Guatemala Shutterstock: Jose de Jesus Churion Del

Dr. Dan Allender, in To Be Told, says there’s also a huge benefit for our future when we remember and tell our stories: “God wants to reveal himself through your story. … As you gain a clear sense of how God has written your life so far, you will see how he is leading you … He asks you to join him in coauthoring the rest of your story.”

In Nebaj, Guatemala, where I grew up, women tell their stories through their weavings. Image by Picasa

Isaiah’s song is so beautiful, I want you to enjoy the whole thing. Notice how he weaves the past into the present and future. Because of what God has done, I praise him today and trust him for tomorrow—and when today becomes tomorrow, I will have yet more to praise him for.

I will praise you, O Lord!

“God has come to save me.

I will trust in him and not be afraid.

The Lord God is my strength and my song;

He has given me victory.”

With joy you will drink deeply from the fountain of salvation!

In that wonderful day you will sing:

“Thank the Lord! Praise his name!

Tell the nations what he has done.

Let them know how mighty he is!

Sing to the Lord, for he has done wonderful things.

Make known his praise around the world.

Let all the people of Jerusalem shout his praise with joy!

For great is the Holy One of Israel who lives among you” [Immanuel!]

(In relation to this song, see also Exodus 15, Psalm 118, John 4:14, Revelation 22:17)

Verse 3 reminds me of Brazilian Ana Paula Valadão’s beautiful song “Águas Purificadoras” (Purifying Waters). I found her singing it in English!

The Same Spirit

But God shows us what he values

Isaiah 11:1-2 Out of the stump of David’s family will grow a shoot—yes, a new Branch bearing fruit from the old root. And the Spirit of the Lord will rest on him.

Romans 8:10-11 Christ lives within you, so even though your body will die because of sin the Spirit gives you life because you have been made right with God. The Spirit of God, who raised Jesus from the dead, lives in you.

Colossians 2:9 For in Christ lives all the fulness of God in a human body.

When Dave and I had to cut down our once-beautiful dying tree, we asked for a stump to be left, hoping new growth would come from it. There’s no sign of this happening, and I have grieved the loss of this tree, the birds who nested there, the swing for my grandchildren that hung from its branches.

Trunk of our beautiful tree

King David’s family tree looked dead too. The last king in David’s line, Zedekiah, described as a rebellious, hard, and stubborn man (2 Chronicles 36:13), was blinded after seeing his sons slaughtered in front of him, bound in chains, and taken away to Babylon in 586 BC, where he died (2 Kings 25:5-7).

But God, in the time of his own choosing, by his Spirit created new life in the womb of a descendant of David’s family. His own Son, bearing DNA of David.

The first 39 chapter of Isaiah are not popular like the last half of the book—they seem too full of judgment and predictions of destruction. But nestled between the Assyrians and the Babylonians we find chapters 11 and 12, jewels of joy.

What strikes me as I read these lovely words again this morning is the fact that the Spirit that rested on Jesus—described in Isaiah 11:2-5—is the same Spirit who filled the apostles on Pentecost and the same Spirit poured out on us, you and me, when we open our hearts to him. Isaiah 11 tells us what this Spirit is like: wisdom and understanding, counsel and might, knowledge and the fear of the Lord.

And the next verses describe the person (Jesus) in whom will live all of God, by his Spirit:

He will delight in obeying the Lord
He will not judge by appearance nor make a decision based on hearsay
He will give justice to the poor and make fair decisions for the exploited
The earth will shake at the force of his word (see Matthew 27:51—one of Jesus’ words on the cross was, “Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they are doing”)
He will destroy wickedness (see Romans 6:6-11) and create a world where enemies will no longer harm each other
He will wear righteousness like a belt and truth like an undergarment (see Ephesians 6:14)
He will be a banner of salvation to all the world; nothing will be hurtful or destructive as people know the Lord
He will make a highway for his people to return to him (John 14:6)

Other sections of Isaiah add to this description, including from our last chapter, 9:6-7 “He will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace …”

So, what’s my takeaway today, as I sit in awe of Jesus and the Spirit of God in him? I can’t make myself be like him. What I can do is submit to the Spirit of God and ask him to cleanse and fill me and produce in me his fruit (Isaiah 11:1), the fruit so evident in Jesus: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control (Galatians 5:22-23).

Those who belong to Christ Jesus have nailed the passions and desires of their sinful nature to his cross and crucified them there. Since we are living by the Spirit, let us follow the Spirit’s leading in every part of our lives (Galatians 5:24-25).

Thank you, Isaiah, for “Speaking Jesus.”

Justice. Hope.

But God is passionately committed to fairness and justice

Isaiah 10:1-2 What sorrow awaits the unjust judges and those who issue unfair laws. They deprive the poor of justice and deny the rights of the needy among my people. …The Lord, the Light of Israel, will be a fire; the Holy One will be a flame. … In that day the Lord will end the bondage of his people. He will break the yoke of slavery and lift it from their shoulders.

Isaiah 9:7 He will rule with fairness and justice from the throne of his ancestor David for all eternity. The passionate commitment of the Lord of Heaven’s Armies will make this happen! [See Matthew 1:1, 4:16, 28:18; Luke 1:32-33, 1 Corinthians 4:24-28]

Romans 8:21 With eager hope, the creation looks forward to the day when it will join God’s children in glorious freedom from death and decay.

Revelation 21:4 God will wipe every tear from their eyes.

How could we endure the daily news if not for the promises of passages like these? I don’t know about you, but for me it’s so overwhelming that I can develop a “thick skin”–compassion fatigue–to protect myself from feeling all the pain.

Yet if we’re aligned with God’s passion for justice, I think each of us has a part to play. A small part, that may feel completely insignificant. But that’s not the point of our obedience to what God calls each of us individually and as congregations to allow into our hearts, our prayers, our pocketbooks, our time and energy.

What is your small part?

Lyrics of Still Will I Love You (A Song for Refugees):

Give me strength, give me hope
And I won’t suffer alone
The God who was and is to come
Break the silence with Your song
Oh, oh, oh, ohh, I can hear You singing
Oh, oh, oh, oh-ohh
Give me justice, give me peace
You are everything we need
The God who made the sky and sea
Of Your goodness, I will sing
Oh, oh, oh, ohh, I can hear You singing
Oh, oh, oh, oh-ohh, no, I won’t stop singing
Oh, oh, oh, ohh, I can hear You singing
Oh, oh, oh, oh-ohh
Still will I love, still will I love
Still will I love You more
Still will I love, still will I love
Still will I love You more

Don’t think like everyone else

But God is the one we should fear

Isaiah 8:11-13 The Lord has given me a strong warning not to think like everyone else does. He said, “Don’t call everything a conspiracy, like they do, and don’t live in dread of what frightens them. Make the Lord of Heaven’s Armies holy in your life. He is the one you should fear.”

Romans 12:16-21 Live in harmony with each other. And don’t think you know it all! … If your enemies are hungry, feed them. If they are thirsty, give them something to drink. … Don’t let evil conquer you, but conquer evil by doing good.

I had a wonderful experience on our recent 1500-mile trip to visit friends and mission supporters west of us. We stopped to visit a friend we haven’t seen in many years. He brought up a political issue that is very important to him, asking what we thought about it. As carefully as I could, I expressed agreement while saying that for me there were other important issues to consider as well. He listened. He did not immediately dismiss or diss me. His expression of affection for me did not waver.

I felt honored by this friend. Rather than “cancelling” me because I didn’t agree with him 100% about one-issue voting–a heartbreak I’ve experienced before–he noted how much we have in common. He protected our relationship rather than negating all that we’ve witnessed together of the Lord’s work in our lives.

Shutterstock: fizkes

The times I have felt dishonor, once the sting wore off, I have wondered whether fear might be at the root of cancelling or ghosting a friend over something so relatively unimportant to me (maybe because I didn’t grow up in this country?) as political issues. Certainly, the media can foster fear in us, especially if we pay attention only to one perspective on a given issue or decide certain political figures are wearing the white hats and the rest are black, along with everyone who gives them a hearing. Fear can result in rejection of those we’re told are destroying what we value. It can leave us vulnerable to believing things that are simply not true. It can narrow our experience of life, to the point that we miss out on abundance and the freedom to live joyfully.

But the Lord calls us to think and act differently. When our trust is solidly rooted in him and his sovereignty over history, we don’t have to live in fear. We can dare to honor others, as our friend did on our delightful visit with him and his family.

Elaine Elliott, who has contributed to this blog in the past, recently sent me notes from an online sermon on honor she listened to. She’s referencing one of the values of the church she and her husband attend in Antigua, Guatemala:

Here’s the value: “We give honor—to those we lead, work beside and follow. The cross gives every human being immeasurable worth. We will treat people with the honor the cross displays.”

Dishonor disrupts the supernatural. The Greek word for dishonor means “to treat as common.” Honor is mentioned 147 times in Scripture—usually in reference to people. The word means to value, to treat as precious, to give weight.

Honor creates a space for the Holy Spirit to be released. Honor must be chosen; it is not a feeling but a choice.

All honor starts with honoring God. God says, “Those who honor me, I will honor” (1 Samuel 2:30). God LOVES the world–and calls us to consider precious what he does, the sinners–including you and me–for whom Jesus died.

Some ways we can choose to honor others: not compare, make it a daily habit, practice gratitude. Daily think of something positive about your spouse and friends, for example, and share it with them. Each day think of something you can be grateful for about someone with whom you’re in a struggle and share it with them. Speak words of honor over your home, declaring your spiritual purpose. One purpose: “I love my husband. I will make him glad he married me.”

Romans 12:9-10 says, “Don’t just pretend to love others. Really love them … with genuine affection. Take delight in honoring each other” (NLT). “Outdo one another in showing honor” (RSV).

Respect is earned; honor is a gift. If someone is dishonoring you and you honor them, you have already won the competition by outdoing them! If your effort is sincere and heartfelt, it has value even if the other person is not able to receive it as intended. It’s a kind of defense against bitterness and anger when we are misunderstood and mistreated.

Thank you, Elaine! While recognizing the complexity culturally, relationally, and emotionally of what is perceived as honor or dishonor, I think these ideas–and the example of my friend–can help us think and act more like Jesus would in our challenging culture.

Lament

My apologies for posting this out of order! I wrote it before traveling, so it would be easy to post on the run, and then forgot I never did it.

But God wants us to know him

Isaiah 5:7, 12-13, 20-21, 24 The Lord of Heaven’s Armies expected a crop of justice, but instead he found oppression. He expected to find righteousness, but instead he heard cries of violence… “My people never think about the Lord or notice what he is doing. So they will go into exile far away because they do not know me. …

“What sorrow for those who say that evil is good and good is evil, that dark is light and light is dark, that bitter is sweet and sweet is bitter. What sorrow for those who are wise in their own eyes and think themselves so clever. … They have rejected the law of the Lord; they have despised the word of the Holy One of Israel.”

Lament.

Not ours, this time. God’s.

I imagine Isaiah writing this chapter with tears running down his cheeks, just as Nehemiah, after the exile Isaiah predicts took place, wept over news about the condition of Jerusalem (Nehemiah 1:4). And as Jesus, too, wept over Jerusalem (Matthew 23:37, Luke 13:34-35).

Commentators say no other portion of Scripture gives us such insight into God’s heart as the writings of Isaiah. In this chapter, he uses the phrase “What sorrow” six times as he details the indifference of his people to his love for them, and their foolishness in rejecting his wisdom.

God wants us to know him: what he values, what he cares about, what he is doing, what he longs for, what stirs him to holy anger, what delights him. Through Isaiah, God shows us his broken heart. He shows us that even he can feel disappointed and betrayed. Like a loving parent passionate about his children, investing everything in them—and then experiencing their rejection and having to watch them suffer the consequences of their misguided choices.

I’m reminded of Hillsong United’s song Hosanna: “Break my heart for what breaks yours.” Until we can feel God’s pain, we don’t really know him.

God is not distant from us, untouched by our daily lives. He longs for intimate relationship, open communication, transparency in the security of his love for us. He wants us to pay attention when he speaks to us, and to make choices worthy of him, in line with his holiness.

The sovereign Lord and Creator of the universe loves you and me enough to weep over us.

Flashback

But God will restore, cleanse, guide, and shelter

Isaiah 4:5-6 Then the Lord will provide a canopy of cloud during the day and smoke and flaming fire at night, covering the glorious land. It will be a shelter from daytime heat and a hiding place from storms and rain.

Psalm 31: 19-20, 32:7 How great is the goodness you have stored up for those who fear you. You lavish it on those who come to you for protection, blessing them before the watching world. You hide them in the shelter of your presence, safe from those who conspire against them. You shelter them in your presence, far from accusing tongues … You are my hiding place; you protect me from trouble. You surround me with songs of victory.

Whenever I see or hear the words “hiding place,” I flash back to a Saturday night Karis “should” have died. She was sixteen; I was with her at the hospital in São Paulo. Her eleven-year-old sister Valerie, home alone working on a project for school, sang “You are my hiding place … I will trust in you” over and over and over, afraid for Karis’s life.

Teen Karis with her sisters at Ibirapuera Park in São Paulo, sharing two pairs of rollerblades between the three of them

Meanwhile, the teens of our church were engaged with their regular weekly meeting. Suddenly one of them said, “We need to pray for Karis.” They didn’t even know she was in the hospital, but the entire group knelt and prayed for her until around midnight they sensed release from God. They only learned the next morning that at the time they felt compelled to pray, Karis’s fever had spiked beyond what the thermometer could measure, and she had managed to say “Goodbye, Mommy,” before passing out. Her doctor was struggling to reach the hospital through São Paulo traffic. Her nurse, too terrified to act, left it up to me to pack Karis in ice and, with the help of another nurse and an orderly holding her down—Karis was shaking uncontrollably—give her the injection the doctor had ordered before he jumped in his car. He repeated the injection, along with other emergency measures, the moment he arrived in her room, running full tilt up the stairs and through the hallways.

“Whenever I am afraid, I will trust in you.”

Isaiah too was afraid, of the judgment and stripping and violence he knew was coming (chapter three). He flashed back to the Exodus, when God had led his people escaping from slavery in Egypt with a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night (Exodus 13-14). These stories were part of the people of Israel’s identity, told and retold through the centuries to illustrate God’s care and protection when they were weak and vulnerable.

Have you experienced God as your hiding place? I would love to hear your story.

Enough

But God’s grace is sufficient

2 Corinthians 12:9 But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.

Do you ever have days that seem just too much to cope with?

Wednesday our flight from Newark to Pittsburgh, coming home exhausted from an amazing week in Colombia, was delayed by two hours. It so happened therefore that as our plane was landing, Luciene, my Schalm grandchildren Caleb and Talita’s other grandmother, was running up the steps of Valerie and Cesar’s home here in Pittsburgh to reconnect with a Zoom call which had been interrupted by an urgent message for her husband. Luciene tripped on the steps and broke her ankle, completely doubling her foot backward. The pain was horrific. Five-year-old Caleb commented to me yesterday several times that his Vovó was crying.

Opa and Vovó in Pittsburgh!! Such joy for Caleb and Talita and all of us

So, as we drove home from the airport, my son-in-law Cesar Jr. and his dad were transporting Luciene first to urgent care and then, after x-rays, to the hospital ER. Even with massive morphine directly into her ankle, the pain of having her bones repositioned was intolerable. She was hospitalized, scheduled for surgery the next day (at the same hospital where our daughter Valerie was working).

However, Lu’s ankle was too swollen to operate yesterday, so Lu was sent home to bedrest for a week, in the hope of operating Thursday next week, to install metal plates and screws to support her ankle as it heals.

At the time Cesar Jr. was transporting Lu back to their house from the hospital yesterday and Cesar Sr. headed to our house to pick up Caleb and Talita, I was on an Instagram Live in Portuguese talking about Karis’s zest for life despite her pain and weaknesses, citing her life verse, this one (above) from 2 Corinthians. Lu herself, from the car going home from the hospital, coached me through connecting with the Live since I was having trouble getting on—turns out Instagram looks different in Brazil than here, so Ilaene’s instructions weren’t helping me. Huge panic that I might not figure it out in time! (If anyone reading this speaks Portuguese and wants to join Ilaene and me on next week’s Live, it will be 8:00 pm Brasília time/7:00 pm Eastern time on Instagram at Igrejas Discipuladoras. You can also watch last night’s Live there.)

There was so much emotion involved with all of this that I have no idea whether I said anything coherent or helpful to anyone on the Live. I’m still trying to find emotional equilibrium, devastated that this has happened to Luciene. Maybe that’s why I’m dumping it on you.

But one thing is vivid: the reality of God’s grace, PRESENT in our challenges and weaknesses and limitations and pain. Offered generously by our Lord to me and to you, today. Please pray with us for Lu as she faces (I almost wrote “walks through,” exactly what she can’t do!)–as she deals with some very tough days ahead. May God’s power resting on her be palpable.

At challenging times like this, I find worship in Portuguese reaches my heart more than English. “Tua Graça Me Basta” means Your Grace Is Sufficient. You can soak in the beauty even if you can’t understand the words. If you enjoy this, you can listen to more of Rachel Novaes here.

And here’s another beautiful song giving me comfort right now (in English this time).