[Faith-talk] Good Night Message for Sunday, February 24, 2013

[Paul]

Hello and good day to you all, whether that be morning, afternoon or, here in the Americas at least, evening.  I hope that your day went well or is going well, by God's matchless grace and His providential care.

For those of you who are married and have or have had children, or if you just like to be around boys and girls as I do, the following article will be of interest to you.  Entitled "I Will Pray For You, Mommy," by Patty Metzer, it is rendered as follows:

"Mommy doesn't feel good today."

I quickly lost track of how many times my children heard that.  It started after surgery for what I learned, at age 26, was breast cancer.  Although I was determined not to let my condition change our family life, this was a promise impossible to keep.

When I began six months of chemotherapy treatments less than three weeks after surgery, I came home feeling miserable and sorry for myself.  My body had betrayed me by getting cancer.

Getting out, just to church, was exhausting.  And my hair, instead of being inches past my shoulders in long thick waves, now was barely 2 inches long in preparation for my becoming completely bald.

Our children were 7, 4 and 18 months--too young to understand why Mommy was sick.  I was grateful they weren't old enough to know the depth of my pain, but their tender spirits knew _something was different.

Daddy looked so sad sometimes.  They ate more sandwiches and hot dogs than usual, and their beds didn't always get made.

There were cards and flowers all over the house, Grandma came and even stayed overnight, and boy, did people bring lots of Cookies!

Getting used to changes.

Our 7-year-old son cried at first when his daddy told him I had cancer.  Jenny, our 4-year-old, showed amazing compassion:  daily giving my hand an extra squeeze, patting me on the shoulder in childlike concern, and pulling the blankets more closely about me before "reading" to me.

And for my baby, Katlyn, the cuddler, who loved to crawl up into my lap, it wasn't the same.  When I finally healed enough for her to rest against my chest, Mommy felt different.  My heart when Katlyn left quickly because she couldn't get comfortable.  It was shattering to think cancer could rob me of a simple hug from my little girl.

Then, the day I began chemotherapy, my son, Adam, made a card in his first-grade class--to make me "feel better."

Adam is legally blind, and printing was absolutely _the hardest subject for him in school.  Yet he painstakingly pencilled:

Dear Mom,

I hope you get better soon.  It doesn't matter if you are bald to me because I love you.  You being here is what matters.  If you don't feel good somedays I will make supper and read to Jenny and Katlyn.  I will study hard in school so I can learn more words.  I will pray for you every night before I fall to sleep.
Love, Adam

What a life! Yes, _life.

Cancer was changing our family--for the better.

Though struggling with thinking I wasn't being a good mom, I learn that God _does work in a difficult situation, perhaps more fully than if it had not come.

Was wondering if anyone here knows Adam Metzer? He probably would be around nine or ten years old by this time.

And now may the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob just keep us safe, individually and collectively, throughout this night or day and especially in these last days in which we live.  And, for us in the Americas, why don't we all get together and, when it's our turn to climb into bed, the rest of us can virtually "tuck" him/her beneath the sheets and blankets.  Does that sound good to you? It sure does me.  Your Christian friend and brother, Paul