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- -- Sunday, 5/9/10 -- HOW GOD HEALED MY HEART - A MOTHER'S DAY
DEVOTIONAL - Matthew 5:4 [1 Update]
http://groups.google.com/group/takeaminute/t/a4a139a8545e0cd7
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Topic: -- Sunday, 5/9/10 -- HOW GOD HEALED MY HEART - A MOTHER'S DAY
DEVOTIONAL - Matthew 5:4
Url: http://groups.google.com/group/takeaminute/t/a4a139a8545e0cd7
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From: "J.R. & Bonnie Ricks" <j-r-and-bonnie@dogwoodministries.org>
Date: May 08 03:37PM -0500
Url: http://groups.google.com/group/takeaminute/msg/fb2ce200b3c9a1e2
Take a Minute is a daily devotional ministry of
Dogwood Ministries, Inc.
If you need prayer… contact our partners in ministry…
SJ <http://sjministries.co.uk/> Ministries - Ministry of Prayer
Or simply send your request to SJMinistries@aol.com
All other requests, please see the end of the devotional
for Dogwood Ministries addresses
Dear Take a Minute Subscribers:
I published this devotional for the first time on Mother's Day, 2006, and
again in 2007, 2008, and 2009. I've received such an overwhelming response
to it every year that I am sending it again this year, and most likely -
unless God gives me something new to say, I'll continue to use it every year
– for a while, at least.
God bless,
Bonnie
HOW GOD HEALED MY HEART – A MOTHER'S DAY DEVOTIONAL – Matthew 5:4 NIV
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
In 1985, my mother was dying of cancer. She had discovered a lump in her
breast in June of 1982, and by the time the mastectomy was done, the lump
had grown so large that it was wrapped around two of her ribs. There was
little hope, but she fought the cancer valiantly for three years. The
Monday before Mother's Day, 1985, I had an overwhelming urge to go home to
see her. She was in the hospital in Little Rock, and I lived and worked in
Houston – over 500 miles away. I was in the middle of producing the first
telethon for the Houston chapter of the March of Dimes, scheduled for the
end of June, so taking off from work for a few days to drive home wasn't in
the books. I had to fly. And I was broke.
After arguing with myself for 24 hours over charging something I couldn't
afford to pay for, I gave in and put the round trip ticket on my credit
card. I would be flying out on Saturday morning, and my former
brother-in-law would pick me up at the airport and take me to the hospital
so I could surprise both of my parents. When I walked into Mama's room
Saturday afternoon, I had a big red bow pinned to the top of my head, and
said, "Happy Mother's Day! Here's your present!"
Mama was thrilled, and we spent all day and into the night talking. I spent
the night at my parents' home Saturday night, went back to the hospital and
spent a few more hours with Mama, then my father took me to the airport for
my flight back to Houston. As I flew home, I thought about what a great
visit it had been. I did not know that it would be the last.
On June 1, 1985, my mother died. My sons and I had flown home the day
before, but she was so far gone, she was barely aware of anyone's presence.
The doctors had been asked to keep her as comfortable as possible and to
"take no heroic measures" to keep her alive. My father and I wanted to
allow her to be free of all that pain, no matter how hard it was for us to
let her go. Saturday morning, she was gone.
One interesting aside is that I never received a bill for that airline
ticket! I can only assume that the Lord sent the bill to "data heaven",
because it never came to me!
For the next ten years, every Mother's Day, no matter how hard I tried not
to, I would end up in tears for several hours, unable to get past my grief
that was so closely associated with that final Mother's Day visit with my
mother. Every year, I'd tell myself I was past all that, and every year,
something would happen to knock me off that tightrope of recovery from grief
and slam dunk me back into mourning once again for my mother.
In 1995, my son and daughter-in-law were expecting their second child. The
pregnancy was extremely difficult, and Trish was in and out of the hospital
again and again. We were all living in southwest Missouri, near Branson.
On Friday afternoon, May 12th, I had been into Branson to take something to
my r. Both of them looked very shaken up. I said, "What's going on?" And
in a very shaky voice, Trish said, "My water broke." My first words were,
"It's too soon!" The baby was not due for another 8½ weeks!
I grabbed the phone and called the Showboat office, telling the woman who
answered to get Guy off the showboat and send him to Springfield, and that
I'd meet him at the hospital with Trish. I knew the boat was out on a
cruise, so I didn't know how they would accomplish that feat. I later
learned that they cut the cruise short to get Guy back to the dock –
otherwise, I have no doubt he would have jumped ship and swam all the way
back to shore!
I took the long route to the hospital, because the shortcut would have put
me through far too many isolated areas, where I would be too far from help
if I needed it. The long route would take me past two other hospitals and
three small emergency clinics, so I'd be near help if Trish got into
trouble. It took us over an hour to get to the hospital – I must say that
it was the longest hour of my life!
Guy was pacing the sidewalk in front of the hospital when we drove up, and
he quickly put Trish into a wheelchair and took her inside. After we got
her settled into a labor room, I called the showboat again and told them to
get my husband off the boat when it landed. His boss was the person who
answered the phone, and she very nastily told me that J.R. "has another
cruise to do today". I don't recall exactly what my next words were, but
J.R. said I apparently scared the wits out of his boss, because she had
nearly yanked him off the boat, telling him to wait at the gate for "that
wife of yours" to pick him up!
We drove straight back to Springfield, and went straight to the labor room –
but it was empty! Confused, we started looking around, and finally found
Guy talking with a doctor. Trish had been rushed to surgery for an
emergency c-section. The baby had the cord around her neck, and was going
to die if they didn't get her out. The problem was, it appeared she might
die anyway.
Christian Kate was a very sick little girl when she was born. In fact, the
doctor wasn't giving us a lot of hope, and asked if we'd like to come into
the NICU and hold her, with the implication that it might be our only
chance. J.R. and I said no, that we could do her more good elsewhere. The
doctor looked at us like we'd grown three heads, and went back into the NICU
shaking her own head in confusion. We turned on our heels and headed for a
bank of pay phones down the hall, where we began calling everyone whose
phone number we could remember, asking them to pray for our little Christian
Kate.
Two hours later, we were back at the NICU, and could see the doctor standing
over Christian's crib looking more confused than she had earlier. She
glanced up and saw us, and came outside immediately. She said, "I don't
know what's going on, but that baby is getting stronger by the moment!" We
both grinned, and I said, "We know what's going on. God's answering a
thousand prayers and healing our baby girl."
Seven hours later, they took Christian off the ventilator because she was
breathing on her own! And two weeks later, we took her home – six and a
half weeks before her due date!
Two days after Christian was born, we were invited to scrub, don surgical
gowns and go into the NICU where they would allow us to hold her. A little
nervous because she was so tiny and there were so many wires and tubes
attached to her tiny body, I sat in the rocking chair they'd placed next to
her crib, and two nurses very carefully laid Christian in my arms for the
very first time. It was Mother's Day, 1995, and as I sat there holding that
precious little life in my arms, I could feel God healing my heart that had
been broken ten years earlier. In many more ways than one, Christian Kate
is my miracle baby, the one that God brought into the world early so she
could heal my heart.
Today, Christian is a very special young lady who lights up every room she
enters, and touches the heart of every person she meets. She is warm and
affectionate, and has a great sense of humor… and she doesn't hesitate to
laugh at herself when she has a "blonde moment". She's a straight "A"
student in "Honors" classes, and has won several academic competitions.
She's also listed in Who's Who of Academic Excellence. In fact, she has so
many awards and honors, it's impossible to keep up with them – and she's
only in the 9th grade! She participated in an after school Christian choir
for two years – playing the lead in their plays – and when she became too
old to be a performer, the director asked her to stay on as an assistant
director and coordinator, which she did all last year. She has an
incredible voice, and "stage fright" is a foreign concept where she's
concerned. Seven summers ago, she accepted Jesus as her Lord and Savior and
was baptized. This coming Wednesday, she will celebrate her 15th birthday,
and is taller than I am (she's nearly 6 feet tall, with long pale blonde
hair and big blue eyes!). She still fills my heart to overflowing every
time I see her, because she is one of God's special miracles in so many
ways.
If your heart is hurting with a wound that just won't seem to heal, be
comforted with the knowledge that Jesus knows right where you are, and He
weeps with you, matching you tear for tear. Tell him about your pain, even
though He knows already, and ask Him to heal your heart in a special way,
one that will bless you far beyond the loss that brought you pain. And as
you wait for that healing, know that because you mourn you are blessed, and
you will be comforted.
The LORD is gracious and righteous;
our God is full of compassion.
The LORD protects the simplehearted;
when I was in great need, he saved me.
Be at rest once more, O my soul,
for the LORD has been good to you.
For you, O LORD, have delivered my soul from death,
my eyes from tears,
my feet from stumbling,
that I may walk before the LORD
in the land of the living.
Psalm 116:5-9 NIV
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General correspondence or to subscribe to Take a Minute:
J-R-and-Bonnie@dogwoodministries.org
Donations to Dogwood Ministries: http://www.dogwoodministries.org
<http://www.dogwoodministries.org/>
Personal correspondence to Bonnie Ricks: bonnie@dogwoodministries.org
Personal correspondence to J.R. Ricks: j-r@dogwoodministries.org
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