It was a night I will never forget. My Dad had to go into heart surgery in Little Rock, Arkansas, and I was in Lawrence, Kansas. I couldn't get there in time to see him before his operation, so I stayed home. I felt like the Lord was going to take him home that night, but I held out hope that I was wrong. At around 3:00 on the morning of July 29, 2004, the phone rang. Someone on the other end, I don't even remember who, told me that my Dad's blood was not clotting after the surgery.
I began trembling with fear of losing him.I went into our tiny bathroom in our duplex. I sat down beside the tub with tears flowing, begging God to allow my Dad's blood to clot. I've never prayed such a specific and strange prayer in my life! I wept uncontrollably. I pleaded with my Savior, I reminded Him that my Dad was a soul winner, he'd knocked on 20 doors just the night before his surgery! I told Him that Dad was a faithful man, a man who would sacrifice his very livelihood for Christ's sake, if necessary. I prayed with all that was in my aching soul.
The phone call came an hour later. Dad had, in fact, shed the confines of his earthly body and was now meeting our Savior face to face. I was happy that Dad was now free from pain and sin, but I missed him so much. We were very close. I literally wept for hours. My mouth was dry, my face was swollen, my head throbbed and the desire to live was taken away. I cried until I felt I had no more tears left, but then, more came! Where could they be coming from? I knew not.
The days and weeks stretched out ahead of me, long and bleak. I managed to keep breathing, to keep going, step by step. God provided grace for each new day. Some days, I was amazed at how I felt His presence. Other days, I just barely eeked by. I got to know my Lord on an entirely new level by experiencing that trail. He was so real to me, that I felt I could touch Him!
The night was not as bleak last night, as it was on July 29, 2004, but it was close. In January, we will be getting a president who does not believe the way I do. I do not feel that he loves our country very much. I do not agree with most of his ideas. But through this trial, we Christians can know Jesus like never before. If persecution does come our way, we can draw closer to our Savior than we ever have before.
You never know, America may draw so close to our Lord that they feel they can touch Him.
I am thankful that God took care of me through those very dark days of my life. I have learned so much, and I can assure you, it was for my good as Romans 8:28 states. No, it didn't feel good, but I think I put too much stock in feelings. This time in America's history is also for my good. He knows that I live in America. In fact, He knows each one of His children, down to the number of hairs on our heads! I believe that when it's all over, we will most assuredly say,"It was for our good."
...He hath done all things well:.. Mark 7:37
Showing posts with label Dad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dad. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Friday, September 5, 2008
Follow Your Heart ~
My last post was yet another exciting chapter of my love story. There is one point on which I would like to elaborate, if you don't mind. Oh thank you! I know I sometimes go on and on, so I truly appreciate your patience. :) I had wanted to go into more detail while I was writing my last post, but time did not permit it.
In that post, I told about how my parents gave me two options after I finished high school. One was to go away to Bible college. The other was to stay home, get a job and buy my own car. I chose option two. There is a little more to the story that I'd like to share now.
I had dreamed of doing big, important jobs my entire childhood. I wanted to be a lawyer, because I loved history. (Lawyers have to like history. Don't they? Well, I thought they did.)
After that, I wanted to be a writer, because I loved dreaming up stories. I loved trying to make my family cry when they read their birthday cards from me each year. I loved words, I loved being transported to "that other life" via a good book. I wanted to take others to the wonderful worlds I dreamed up. Writing seemed a good fit...then I thought, why not combine the two and write about history? So, that was my dream for a while.
Later, I wanted to teach. I spent many afternoons in an upstairs classroom waiting on my Mom to wrap things up for the day. I can still smell that chalky, sweaty smell that a classroom has at the end of the day, after hosting 130 students! I find comfort in that smell! (Much like I do in the smell of tobacco and funnel cakes. That smell reminds me of the sweet summer days I spent at Magic Springs when I was child. My parents owned a glass shop, called Glass Creations, for several years. I spent many happy days there. Ahhh. Precious memories. What? Oh! Sorry! Where was I? Yes, I remember!) Teaching seemed to be in my blood, because I was exposed to it. My Mother didn't desire to merely "get through the day with all these kids" as some teachers did. She sincerely wanted to make a difference. My brother's life's verse is Jude 22 "And of some have compassion, making a difference." I think he chose that consciously or sub-consciously because he saw this verse lived out by my Mother over and over with her students, and at home too, of course! :] I wanted to make a difference, too.
I also wanted to be a doctor for a while, and help the hurting that way. But, then I realized I fell faint at the sight of blood, so that was out. Oh, I'm not good at math, either, so pharmacology was out as well.
Other various dreams of mine included banking, becoming a librarian, and radio broadcasting. Motherhood would always be included along with these other occupational choices. It absolutely went without saying. I wanted to be a Mother, as 99.9% of women do.
At teen camp one year, however, I gave my life to the Lord. I surrendered total control to Him, to do whatever He wanted for me. If this meant being a missionary to Africa, I was in. Whatever He wanted.
I began to lose interest in my previous passions (except motherhood of course!). I no longer dreamed of becoming a lawyer, doctor, writer, or broadcaster. I even gave up the teaching idea. I basically gave up any idea that involved working outside the home. My Mother, even though she worked a secular job, encouraged me in this idea. Often I would go to my Mom and ask her to go do something and she would be unable to go due to her job. She would look at me compassionately and say "Valerie, when you get married someday, don't work outside your home." I knew what she meant. She was saying, "I hate having to put you behind my job. I hate that you have to be last." Of course, I understood. I knew my Mother loved me more than anything, even is she did miss out on some things I wanted to do. (But right now I can't remember any particular one, so they must not have been that important anyway!)
As I read my Bible, prayed and earnestly sought for God's will, it seemed to me that I should marry a preacher. (I know, what girl doesn't surrender to do that, right? Well, I was no exception!) I felt with all that was in me that I should be involved in ministry alongside my husband, whether he was a full-time pastor, or a secular employed layman. I hoped to have children, but after watching my sister wait for six years to have a baby, I didn't hold my breath. I was prepared to possibly not be able to have any at all.
The time drew near for me to apply to Bible college. Most of my friends were married, or had left our church entirely. The college my brother and sister attended was wonderful. They had fire and vision and enthusiasm. But...I didn't want to go. I had been there many times to visit them, I had loved it as a child. Now, as it was soon to be my turn to pack up and go north, I wasn't so sure. Did I want to pursue a degree in education? Did I really want to be a teacher? Or was that just an excuse to go to a "nest" of Christian young men in search of a husband? If you want a degree, and you want a mate, then Bible college is the place for you. I, however, had to be honest with myself and admit that I only wanted a mate. I asked the Lord to please send the man he had for me to our church. I thought it might be the guy I was dating at that time, but I had my doubts that it would be he. In fact, I had very little faith that God would really send my man there. This lack of faith didn't stop me from proclaiming to my friends boldly, "God could send my future husband to our church!" while inside, my faith was a mustard seed...or less!
I prayed about what to do. Do I go, or do I stay? I felt the loving pressure from my parents. They went to college. They believed strongly in being educated. I felt like I was failing them in some way, though they never once accused me of disappointing them. I had a very good relationship with my parents. I loved them, and I respected them. And they loved and respected me too, and I was just a kid! :] They respected my feelings. When I told them I wasn't too excited about going away, they understood. My Mother told me that college was a good transition from childhood to adulthood. While you're away at Bible college, you are "on your own", yet still under your parents authority. This made sense. But I still didn't have the desire to go. My Mother also told me that when God has a plan for your life, He makes you like that plan! It isn't misery! He enables you to do the task, and to find joy in it. I didn't have any joy about leaving home and heading to college. It was at this time that I was given the two options. This helped me so much. It helped me to know that my parents had given me some "wiggle room". They did not slam down the iron fist of parental authority by saying "This is what Kevin and Melanie did and this is what YOU'RE doing too!!!". Had they said this, I would have obeyed, because the Holy Spirit would not have let me disobey. But I would have had seeds of bitterness and hurt in my heart toward them that would linger to this day. I'm so thankful for option two! I'm so thankful my parents didn't "kick me out". I'm thankful that God gave me wise and loving parents! I'm thankful that they respected me, and my very unique personality, and allowed me to be... me.
I chose option two because a deacon in my church advised me to "follow my heart." Since my parents approved of my staying home, and since this is what my heart longed for, this is what I did. I stayed.
God worked everything out in a way that only He could. I thought I was staying home to continue in a relationship with the guy I was dating. I was wrong on that point. But the Lord led me every step of the way, and I gladly followed. As the path grew darker, I clung more tightly to Him. He did not fail me. He led me toward paths of light, and love, and joy.
To be continued...
In that post, I told about how my parents gave me two options after I finished high school. One was to go away to Bible college. The other was to stay home, get a job and buy my own car. I chose option two. There is a little more to the story that I'd like to share now.
I had dreamed of doing big, important jobs my entire childhood. I wanted to be a lawyer, because I loved history. (Lawyers have to like history. Don't they? Well, I thought they did.)
After that, I wanted to be a writer, because I loved dreaming up stories. I loved trying to make my family cry when they read their birthday cards from me each year. I loved words, I loved being transported to "that other life" via a good book. I wanted to take others to the wonderful worlds I dreamed up. Writing seemed a good fit...then I thought, why not combine the two and write about history? So, that was my dream for a while.
Later, I wanted to teach. I spent many afternoons in an upstairs classroom waiting on my Mom to wrap things up for the day. I can still smell that chalky, sweaty smell that a classroom has at the end of the day, after hosting 130 students! I find comfort in that smell! (Much like I do in the smell of tobacco and funnel cakes. That smell reminds me of the sweet summer days I spent at Magic Springs when I was child. My parents owned a glass shop, called Glass Creations, for several years. I spent many happy days there. Ahhh. Precious memories. What? Oh! Sorry! Where was I? Yes, I remember!) Teaching seemed to be in my blood, because I was exposed to it. My Mother didn't desire to merely "get through the day with all these kids" as some teachers did. She sincerely wanted to make a difference. My brother's life's verse is Jude 22 "And of some have compassion, making a difference." I think he chose that consciously or sub-consciously because he saw this verse lived out by my Mother over and over with her students, and at home too, of course! :] I wanted to make a difference, too.
I also wanted to be a doctor for a while, and help the hurting that way. But, then I realized I fell faint at the sight of blood, so that was out. Oh, I'm not good at math, either, so pharmacology was out as well.
Other various dreams of mine included banking, becoming a librarian, and radio broadcasting. Motherhood would always be included along with these other occupational choices. It absolutely went without saying. I wanted to be a Mother, as 99.9% of women do.
At teen camp one year, however, I gave my life to the Lord. I surrendered total control to Him, to do whatever He wanted for me. If this meant being a missionary to Africa, I was in. Whatever He wanted.
I began to lose interest in my previous passions (except motherhood of course!). I no longer dreamed of becoming a lawyer, doctor, writer, or broadcaster. I even gave up the teaching idea. I basically gave up any idea that involved working outside the home. My Mother, even though she worked a secular job, encouraged me in this idea. Often I would go to my Mom and ask her to go do something and she would be unable to go due to her job. She would look at me compassionately and say "Valerie, when you get married someday, don't work outside your home." I knew what she meant. She was saying, "I hate having to put you behind my job. I hate that you have to be last." Of course, I understood. I knew my Mother loved me more than anything, even is she did miss out on some things I wanted to do. (But right now I can't remember any particular one, so they must not have been that important anyway!)
As I read my Bible, prayed and earnestly sought for God's will, it seemed to me that I should marry a preacher. (I know, what girl doesn't surrender to do that, right? Well, I was no exception!) I felt with all that was in me that I should be involved in ministry alongside my husband, whether he was a full-time pastor, or a secular employed layman. I hoped to have children, but after watching my sister wait for six years to have a baby, I didn't hold my breath. I was prepared to possibly not be able to have any at all.
The time drew near for me to apply to Bible college. Most of my friends were married, or had left our church entirely. The college my brother and sister attended was wonderful. They had fire and vision and enthusiasm. But...I didn't want to go. I had been there many times to visit them, I had loved it as a child. Now, as it was soon to be my turn to pack up and go north, I wasn't so sure. Did I want to pursue a degree in education? Did I really want to be a teacher? Or was that just an excuse to go to a "nest" of Christian young men in search of a husband? If you want a degree, and you want a mate, then Bible college is the place for you. I, however, had to be honest with myself and admit that I only wanted a mate. I asked the Lord to please send the man he had for me to our church. I thought it might be the guy I was dating at that time, but I had my doubts that it would be he. In fact, I had very little faith that God would really send my man there. This lack of faith didn't stop me from proclaiming to my friends boldly, "God could send my future husband to our church!" while inside, my faith was a mustard seed...or less!
I prayed about what to do. Do I go, or do I stay? I felt the loving pressure from my parents. They went to college. They believed strongly in being educated. I felt like I was failing them in some way, though they never once accused me of disappointing them. I had a very good relationship with my parents. I loved them, and I respected them. And they loved and respected me too, and I was just a kid! :] They respected my feelings. When I told them I wasn't too excited about going away, they understood. My Mother told me that college was a good transition from childhood to adulthood. While you're away at Bible college, you are "on your own", yet still under your parents authority. This made sense. But I still didn't have the desire to go. My Mother also told me that when God has a plan for your life, He makes you like that plan! It isn't misery! He enables you to do the task, and to find joy in it. I didn't have any joy about leaving home and heading to college. It was at this time that I was given the two options. This helped me so much. It helped me to know that my parents had given me some "wiggle room". They did not slam down the iron fist of parental authority by saying "This is what Kevin and Melanie did and this is what YOU'RE doing too!!!". Had they said this, I would have obeyed, because the Holy Spirit would not have let me disobey. But I would have had seeds of bitterness and hurt in my heart toward them that would linger to this day. I'm so thankful for option two! I'm so thankful my parents didn't "kick me out". I'm thankful that God gave me wise and loving parents! I'm thankful that they respected me, and my very unique personality, and allowed me to be... me.
I chose option two because a deacon in my church advised me to "follow my heart." Since my parents approved of my staying home, and since this is what my heart longed for, this is what I did. I stayed.
God worked everything out in a way that only He could. I thought I was staying home to continue in a relationship with the guy I was dating. I was wrong on that point. But the Lord led me every step of the way, and I gladly followed. As the path grew darker, I clung more tightly to Him. He did not fail me. He led me toward paths of light, and love, and joy.
To be continued...
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
I Miss You, Dad
Four years ago today, my Dad and "partner", Ron Courtney, went home to be with the Lord. I remember thinking after his death that the purpose for which he had lived his life was now a reality. It was no longer something he lived for, but something he had lived for. I remember seeing his Bible and glasses just where he left them. He would no longer need those items, for now he was with the Author and his vision is perfect. His walking shoes were in their place beside my Mom's. He was now walking with the Savior, he would no longer need to walk for exercise. His health is now perfect. His workbench - complete with hammer, screwdrivers, sundry items and, I kid you not, a gillion nails and screws was silent.
I sat down and cried at his workbench that first day home. I cried because of all the time he'd spent there making (or repairing) things for me, such as my bike. I cried because I missed seeing him there, glasses sliding down his sweaty face, and an expression of one who was deep in thought as he fiddled with something that needed fixing. He was such a hard worker.
My Dad was so tender hearted, so kind and generous. He hated being alone. And at his workbench that day, I hated being alone. While sitting there, I wished I could thank him once more for fixing "Lightning", my bike. I wished I could thank him for his love and most of all, the example of what I should look for in a husband. Terry is so much like him. I often think of Dad when I see him fathering our girls. I have had, and still have, some great men in my life.
But Dad came first. And I will always miss him, but, praise the Lord, because of Calvary, we can be together again someday.
Thank you Dad. A million times over, thank you. I wish I had been a better daughter to you and Mom, but as long as I'm living I will do my best to rise to your level of Christianity. I will try to make up for all the wrong I did as a youngster. I will strive to serve instead of be served, to give instead of take, to love whether I'm loved in return or not. I know that if I can be like you, I'll be like Jesus. I saw His reflection in your lives every day I awoke in the Courtney home.
I miss you, and I love you.
Oh, and thank you so much for loving me, just the way I was.
I sat down and cried at his workbench that first day home. I cried because of all the time he'd spent there making (or repairing) things for me, such as my bike. I cried because I missed seeing him there, glasses sliding down his sweaty face, and an expression of one who was deep in thought as he fiddled with something that needed fixing. He was such a hard worker.
My Dad was so tender hearted, so kind and generous. He hated being alone. And at his workbench that day, I hated being alone. While sitting there, I wished I could thank him once more for fixing "Lightning", my bike. I wished I could thank him for his love and most of all, the example of what I should look for in a husband. Terry is so much like him. I often think of Dad when I see him fathering our girls. I have had, and still have, some great men in my life.
But Dad came first. And I will always miss him, but, praise the Lord, because of Calvary, we can be together again someday.
Thank you Dad. A million times over, thank you. I wish I had been a better daughter to you and Mom, but as long as I'm living I will do my best to rise to your level of Christianity. I will try to make up for all the wrong I did as a youngster. I will strive to serve instead of be served, to give instead of take, to love whether I'm loved in return or not. I know that if I can be like you, I'll be like Jesus. I saw His reflection in your lives every day I awoke in the Courtney home.
I miss you, and I love you.
Oh, and thank you so much for loving me, just the way I was.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Happy Father's Day ~
My Dad is not here to read what I'm going to write about him. He went home to be with the Lord almost four years ago. I miss him just as much today as I ever have. I have heard many people use the phrase "only in Heaven will you know how much I love you, or appreciate you, etc.". In fact, I think I've used that phrase myself a time or two! Today, however, I will not be using those words. I don't need to say that now that my Dad's in Heaven he knows how much I loved him. No, I don't say that because he knew it while he was here. The trips to the hardware store, the bike rides, the milkshakes we enjoyed, the "late, late breakfasts" we ate at McDonald's on Saturdays in the summertime, the long talks, the walks, the "wrestling matches" (tickling matches!), the laughs...these all said "I love you so much Dad! I love being with you!" Not to mention the number of times I wrote it to him, and said those words to him.
Someday, though, you can rest assured, I will be letting him know I missed him. Someday, I'll enter Heaven myself and, after seeing my dear Saviour, I'll be greeting my Dad. And we'll pick up right where we left off.
In Loving Memory of the World's Greatest Dad
Ron Courtney
I'll see you later, Partner.
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