[Faith-talk] Daily Thought for Monday, October 28, 2013

[Debby Phillips]

Hi Paul, as usual I am behind with email.  I was going to skip this article because of being behind, but I guess The Lord wanted me to read it.  It was very enjoyable, but one thing struck me in the article.  She says something like, Beging dependent lets you know you are loved.  All our lives, or at least mine, the mantra was Be independent.  And that is kind of the American motto.  And yet, every day I am dependent on God's love and mercy.  Every day I watch my husband patiently care for his mom, who is pretty dependent on him.  And there are those times when I myself have to ask for help with some task, or other that I can't do for myself, reading me a label, driving me tothe Post Office with Braille books to mail back to the Library.  What is also wonderful is that I am able to help others, too.  As I teach my Braille students, I know that for one or two of them, this is a way for them to get ahead in their employment, in their lives, and it gives me such joy to know that I get to help that process just a little.    Blessings,    Debbymenleo

Sent from my iPhone

> On Oct 28, 2013, at 1:01 PM, "Paul" <oilofgladness47 at gmail.com> wrote:
> 
> Hello and good day to you all.  I hope that your day is going well, about to begin or about to end, by God's matchless grace and His providential care.
> 
> Before I give you the Daily Thought article for today, I have a bit of a prayer request to lay on you, if that's not too much trouble.  I have been asked to read Scripture before our senior citizens center prayer breakfast on November 16 which is a Saturday.  My questioning request is:  If you were in my position, which Scripture would you choose and why? Obviously someone who is himself or herself a senior citizen might be better qualified to answer this question, but I'll take any suggestions remembering, of course, that it will be the Lord who will ultimately choose which Scripture I am to read.  And who do you think will be the speaker before our humble group? None other than the famed pediatric neurosurgeon, Dr. Ben Carson.  I've spoken to him several times on talk shows, but have never had the privilege of meeting him.  Which only goes to show that, if you are truly humble before the Lord, that He will raise you up.  Anyway thanks for any input on this situation.
> 
> And now to the Daily Thought article for today.  It was written by Patricia J. Gould of Crete, Nebraska, and is entitled simply "Reunion," rendered as follows:
> 
> Back in high school, Barb Leavitt was the last person I'd have expected to become my number-one best friend.
> 
> My hometown looked very much the same when I went back there to live in 1993.  My mother, brothers and sisters were there to greet me; the high school where I'd played varsity basketball; the Sportsman Bar and Grill where I had a part-time job.  But really, everything was different, because I was different.
> 
> I wasn't the Patty who'd left Crete for our capital city, found a good job and got married.  A car accident had left me disabled.  I had to be in a wheelchair till I learned to walk again.  I'd suffered brain damage.  The peripheral vision on my left was gone, and I couldn't drive anymore.  So much for an independent life.
> 
> I'd tried making a go of it after the accident, but my disabilities robbed me of my job and marriage.  With the insurance settlement, I paid for a house back in Crete and Mom moved in with me.  I needed her help, but hated depending on her.  It was like being a kid again, but with none of the fun.  I remembered the excitement of basketball games, my family cheering me on.  The annual festival along Crete's Big Blue River where I hung out with the popular kids.
> 
> Now I was disabled, just like a girl I'd known in high school.  Her name was Barbara Leavitt, but I couldn't say much more about her.  Sometimes I had to dodge around her wheelchair in my rush to class.  I'd say, "Morning, Barb," and she'd say, "Hi," and that was about it.  I hadn't been interested enough to ask her what had put her in that wheelchair.
> 
> One thing stuck in my mind, though.  At our 1977 class graduation, Barb Leavitt stood up with leg braces and walked slowly to the podium to accept her diploma.  God help me if I ever had to live like that, I'd thought.  Then it had happened to me.  Barb had probably never known life any other way.  But I had.  How could I go on like this? Over and over, I asked God for an answer.
> 
> Mom had been my rock since the accident.  "Great meal, Patty," she said one evening, even though I'd only made sandwiches.  Therapy sessions helped me figure out what I could do one-handed.  But I didn't want to be just someone in a wheelchair, the way I'd once thought of Barb Leavitt.  I was determined to walk.
> 
> I practiced pulling myself out of the chair and standing up.  I leaned against walls and furniture to get around.  I walked backward down the basement stairs to do the laundry because I could hold the railing on my right side.  Next, I limped along with a cane.  Eventually, my balance improved.  "So far, so good," Mom said one day.  But not good enough.  I could never live without depending on someone to help me.  Sometimes I had only a single thought:  I want to give up.
> 
> "Patty, you should go out and be with people," Mom advised.  "You need to be open to new experiences." The Blue River Festival was coming up.  Okay, I thought, I'll go to the fair.  I took my cane along for support.
> 
> One of the highlights of the festival was a tour of The Maples, Crete's most historic house.  I liked being there and thinking about people who lived in the past.  The best part of my own life seemed to be in the past.  Going through the rooms, I spotted a woman in a wheelchair.  I hadn't seen her for who knows how long, but it was Barb Leavitt.
> 
> "Patty!" she said, smiling as brightly as the sun.  Why had I never noticed it before? Barb had a lovely smile.
> 
> "We should get together and talk sometime," Barb suggested.
> 
> We started spending time with each other.  I felt comfortable telling her what had happened to me.  "Sometimes the challenges seem like too much to bear," I said over lunch at the Sportsman.  If anyone could understand, it was Barb.
> 
> Then I went to her house.  It was full of pictures, awards and plaques.  Barb was a social whirlwind.  She was a charter member of the Lions Club, active in the Crete Woman's Club, and played bells in the church choir.  "I've always kept busy," she said, "since I was a little girl." Girl Scouts, 4-H.  She'd won the junior championship at the Nebraska State Fair with her calf named Daisy.  I had never imagined she'd been involved in any of these things, much less all of them! Barb was born with spina bifida and hadn't been expected to live long.  Her parents tried everything.  "Six operations," Barb told me.  One of them left her paralyzed from the waist down.
> 
> But nothing stopped Barb.  She didn't seem to be troubled about having to depend on someone else.  In spite of her disability, life somehow seemed easy for her.  I said this one afternoon.  "Easy?" she said.  "Never.  What's easy is to give up."  Exactly what I'd wanted to do.  "My parents never gave up on me," Barb said.  "I couldn't give up on myself." Her words resonated in my heart.
> 
> Life wasn't what I'd expected, but it was _my life.  Mom told me to be open to new things.  Barb saw new things every day.  One day, so did I.
> 
> I met Sam Gould at the Sportsman.  We dated for a while, and then he asked me to marry him.  Barb attended our outdoor wedding.  When our class celebrated its twenty-fifth reunion in 2002, Barb was at my side.  There we were, back in school together.  Only now, we were best friends.
> 
> I saw Barb for the last time in the Lincoln Medical Center, a respirator breathing for her.  The day before she died, a nurse told me, "She sat up in her bed last night for a while, bright as a penny." That was Barb.  Never giving up.
> 
> What can I say about my friend, Barbara Leavitt? Everything now.  She taught me that dependence gives you strength.  It means being loved.  It opens you up to faith in yourself and in God.  Barb taught me to love my life.  She was God's answer to my prayer.  Because of her, I am forever changed.
> 
> And there you have Patricia's article which I hope was a blessing and an inspiration to you.  More than that, I hope it will give some of you fresh hope that, together with God and yourself (in that order, please), that you can go out and attempt to do things.  If Patricia, Barb and the undersigned can do it, you can too.  Of course your circumstances may be different from ours, but at least give it a try.
> 
> And now may the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob just keep us safe, individually and collectively, in these last days in which we live.  Lord willing, tomorrow there will be another daily thought message and article especially selected and presented just for you.  Your Christian friend and brother, Paul
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