The Voice of Japan

This email from my dear friend Himo speaks volumes about the need for prayer in a land so devastated:

Hi Debbie

 

Thanks for your email.  We are fine as usual and spending our daily life as well.  But we have so many problems day by day.  A biggest problem is an unclear power plants.  It made water pollution till around Tokyo area, and vagetables, milk by radioactive contamination, power outage till summer or next winter?!  

 

And of course, quake dameged area is still not recover, homeless people are 32000, 10500 people died, 17000 people missing.  That area is still cold weather, so people do their best, but it`s been so hard life, so they must be bounds, limit,,,

 

I just hope that Japanese government does everything right away,,, I can`t image how much time and money we need, I just want to give up everything if I had  such a sad happened, just no hope, can`t image our future,,,but we have to build up our future!!  Our economy is an uneasy emotion by elecronic power, well anyway a little bit panic all over Japan . . .

 

 

*     *     *

 

 

Please continue to hold Himo, her family, her nation in our prayers.

 

 

 

 

 Hear my cry, 

O God; 

attend unto my prayer. 

Psalm 61:1

Please Pray . . .

Please pray for my dear friend-like-a-sister in Japan.  Himo is currently safe with her two children (daughter Mayu, 12, son Riku, 9) in southwestern Japan, but her husband Hiroyuki is stranded in Tokyo. 

I met Himo when she was 13 and a foreign exchange student to the US staying with my inlaws.  That was 23 years ago.  Since then she has been to visit me several times but I have yet to make it to Japan to see her.  (Oh, how I wish I would have stored memories of Japan seen through my own eyes before this tragic quake!) 

Please keep the Kishikawa family in your prayers as we all join hands and hearts to pray for Japan.

Thank you.

Buzzards Still in Attendance . . .

BAD NEWS, as well . . .

Just heard from Gary's brother. Apparently the "All Clear" "Full Recovery" assessment regarding Gloria was a misunderstanding (or something like that). The meningitis continues in an active state and pressure continues to build in her brain. She's fully conscious, but her hearing appears to be fading today. She will remain in ICU for at least another week.

I am confused, exhausted, disappointed and all the rest . . . and so I curl back up into the loving arms of the Lord and pray. We SO celebrated the miraculous recovery and this has hit ALL of us hard! We will not give up and weep in fear . . . God's ways are not our ways. He is mighty, He never tires (unlike me, a mere mortal, and a squishy one at that lately).

Do you not know? Have you not heard?
The Everlasting God, the LORD,
The Creator of the ends of the earth
Does not become weary or tired
His understanding is inscrutable.
He gives strength to the weary,
And to him who lacks might He increases power.
Though youths grow weary and tired,
And vigorous young men stumble badly,
Yet those who wait for the LORD
Will gain new strength;
They will mount up with wings like eagles,
They will run and not get tired,
They will walk and not become weary.

Isaiah 40:28-31

I cling to this promise-filled verse.

For today, my monthly worst is upon me, but the duties of the day have been fulfilled outside the home. A tree man arrives soon with saw in hand to remove the buzzard-filled trees (dead and inviting to their breed, we have learned) and another guy arrives at 5 pm to remove the dead deer carcass we spotted near our mailboxes that has been feeding our unwanted guests. So, with the buffet gone, as well as the handy perch, we hope the creepy guests will just move along and fulfill their natural duties in someone else's gardens.

Truly, truly this has been an odd day all the way around -- actually it's been an odd week! Some folks who know us well, laugh that we have a most "interesting" life. They weren't offering to take over any parts of it, however, so I shall continue to celebrate life (however challenging) around Wisteria Cottage. For starters I must get about the business of planning dinner. I have a bowl of beans soaking for a refried delight of some sort. A few peppers, an onion, a sprinkle of cheese -- MMMMMmmmmmm! The fragrance in my imagination causes my tummy to rumble. Now if I could just quell the flow of tears and enjoy this steaming cup of tea my dear daughter has just presented to me . . . well, wouldn't it be lovely?

I appreciate your prayers . . . the shadows continue to fall, but the light of the Lord beckons us to let off with worry and simply follow the prayerful path.

Be anxious for nothing,

But in everything by prayer

And supplication with thanksgiving

Let your requests be made known to God.

Philippians 4:6

WONDERful News!!

Our God is AWESOME!!

Gary just called before setting out for home. He had just left his mother. She recognized him and tried to talk (which she can't due to the respirator tube). She communicated by nodding "Yes" and "No" and she waved good-bye when he prepared to go. She also responded to nurse's commands to move her legs.

She's there!
Praise God!

Gary missed the doctor by five minutes, but it is obvious that Gloria is not in the excruciating pain she once felt recently.

I'm dancing with joy.

Miracles delight me so,

Even those ordinary every-day sorts of wonders . . .

Like Our First Egg!!

: D

* * *

Please keep praying along with us.

Hear my prayer, O LORD,

Give ear to my supplications:

In thy faithfulness answer me,

And in thy righteousness.

Psalm 143:1

More Hope Flickers!

I just got off the phone with Gary and am greatly encouraged. Gloria IS responsive, though heavily sedated. She opened her eyes to acknowledge Gary's presence, she glanced over to look at his brother Mark, she repositioned herself in the bed for greater comfort, she smiled when the pastor was speaking in her presence yesterday, and she is taking in nourishment and processing it bodily. She is heavily sedated and the infection has not subsided, but for now she is still with us and we are still very much with her in prayer.

All we can do is rest in Him . . .

Thank you so much for your prayers and encouragement and just plain ol' sweetness that comes through in every comment. It matters so much more than I ever imagined to know that you all -- in all parts of the world -- are lifting up Gloria and my family and even me as we put one foot in front of the other on God's chosen path.

My girls are singing out for "Waffles! Waffles!" (to the tune of Abba's Mamma Mia) as I promised sourdough waffles for dinner. Who cares if it is in the mid nineties . . . we want waffles!

Dear friends, I will return with more news as it trickles in. God bless you all for your generous comments and thoughts and ABUNDANT prayers. Please don't stop. I love hearing from you! XO!!!

A Glimmer of Hope Remains

Gary just called and left a message: His mom is not as bad as he expected, though she is now on a ventilator. She is sedated and uncommunicative, but apparently not in a coma and her organs remain functioning. Her heart is strong . . . but we already knew that.

A glimmer of hope remains, it seems.

I have no further information as Gary is out of contact while he picks up his sister at the airport. She arrives from South Africa. Now the children can be together to pray and watch over their mother.

I continue to tend the hearth with my children several hundred miles from them. God knits us by heart and cups us in His loving hand.

Prayers continue.

I've seen miracles before . . . I named them Andrew and Matthew.

God is good.

Update . . .

Gloria is continuing to decline. Gary's brother reported that she is one step away from a ventilator. The infection continues unabated. Brain damage appears likely. My husband continues to shepherd us through this shadowy valley with a most godly hand. I am blessed, even as I am broken . . .

"Pray, Pray, Pray" . . .

. . . my brother-in-law ended his last email with these words. Gloria has gone downhill fast. She now has pneumonia in addition to the bacterial meningitis that has penetrated her brain from a blown eardrum filled with infection. The doctor repeatedly performs MRIs to assess some problem in the brain -- my brother-in-law did not ask what. I fear a brain abscess . . . But God. Latest word told that Gloria is agitated and must be restrained amidst all the sedation. Dear Lord, comfort her.

I have broken the news to my girls and they have made their way off to play the harp, pray, and study medical texts. The mood hangs heavy around here -- as the above rose displays so vividly.

We lay our burdens down at His feet, and I have urged my girls to curl up right along with the painful fears and rest in the lap of our Abba Father. He knows . . . we do not. He is powerful and mighty . . . we are not.

I must go tend to the hearth and keep the meals coming and the clean clothes washing. Matthew does not understand any of this, save that his family wears sorrow and that drags his spirits down as well. Autism is so cruel. And yet, we rejoice that our young man has battled so much this past year and has emerged as sweet and soft as he once was.

Lord, I pray for all of my children as they deal with this in their own way, and for my husband as he phones so many of the older friends and relatives to inform them of the progress (or lack thereof). For myself Lord . . . I ask only for peace in the midst of not knowing, as I battle my need-to-know persona every hour that goes by. Into your hands I commit it all . . .

A Time to Pray . . .

My mother-in-law currently lies in the hospital under heavy sedation with some sort of unknown infection in her ear that potentially endangers her brain. We have such sketchy details, as we live hours away. The summaries we receive via phone do not paint a rosy picture. She recently returned from South Africa on a visit to her daughter and family, which poses a host of unknowns . . . but God knows.

I would be grateful to any who choose to join our family in sending up prayers in Gloria's behalf.

Necessarily, my blog retreat will stretch a bit longer.

Tomorrow Lydia turns 14 . . . the celebrations will go on as planned, but surely a shadow will fall over the day.

I shall retreat again for now, as I feel a bit overwhelmed by the events of this day. Thank you in advance to all my sweet, sweet friends who read and understand that life whirls in a messy sort of way . . . How good it is to grasp another's hand in the whirlwind, even as we sit under His tender wing.

“If There Be Love Even the Impossible Becomes Possible” – Tamil Proverb

As we journey on there will be rivers, and we shall find neither bridges nor boats nor aeroplanes. But the rivers can be lept by a spring of the will, the resolute will NOT to come short of the promise of entering into Hist rest. There will be Giants’ Valleys, and mountains of immense and impossible obstacles. But nothing can hold up one who follows a conqueror.

We are not promised smooth roads, but rough. When things are smooth we should look up in delight and thanksgiving, thinking of them as breathing spaces rather than as the normal condition of things. Rough roads make it certain that we shall often come to our Lord for rest.

~~ Amy Carmichael ~~

Whispers of His Power

Come unto ME,
All ye that labour and are heavy laden,
And I will give you rest,
Take my yoke upon you, and learn of Me;
For I am meek and lowly in heart:
And ye shall find rest for your souls.
Matthew 11:28, 29

I dedicate this day to prayer for all that have entered choppy waters, or continue to battle breaking waves, and mostly for those whose vessels have sprung leaks, thus filling their boats with peril and fear.

The swift currents in my own life render my oars useless . . . and so I fall upon the Lord and follow Him in the pathways of love to find the impossible possible once again.

For those in a peaceful place today . . . give thanks.

Whispers and Prayers of a Summer's Day

As a child I delighted in disappearing into a secluded spot wherein I could read and hide whilst the heat of the day cast her spell.

These HOT August days always bring out the kid in me . . .

Of late the signs of summer spill all around me

From the Rudbeckia on the deck,
shining brilliant gold against the deep blue pots,

To the rosy orbs of garden sweetness
filling the cobalt colander on the counter,

And on into the "Summer Holiday" look of the kitchen.

"Who's manning the helm?"
this clutter seems to cry out!

But how can one stay indoors and work through the heat of the day? Such times were made for a book and an icy drink sipped from a comfy spot in front of a cooler or fan.

And when the heat has passed over, leaving a veil of coolness in the gardens, who can resist the urge to run and drink in the fragrant beauty of a new flush of roses?

Or the heady aroma of the fleeting lily pink . . .

Or white?


Surely God never intended this much fragrance to be wasted out of doors while I am held captive soaping up soiled saucers inside.

And so I run and jump and dance and play in the margins of a Summer's Day. As for those heated middling hours? I'm off to the library booksale for more printed prizes to help while away the heat with adventure, travel, deep pondering, lavish feasting, and so much more.

But . . .

Before I go I must share a whispered prayer with you. My yearly visit with the doctor yielded a battery of A+ results from the various tests, save for one -- my white blood cell count appears to be dwindling into a troublingly low area. It has been a gradual decrease over several years and since it does not accompany any other sign of problem, the doctor believes it may be just a natural "aging" component for my body. Without a family health history to consult my sweet doctor must consult impersonal statistics.

In three months the blood work will be repeated and I ask you, my dear friends, to join me and my family as we pray for an increase in the count. There is a slim chance that a medication I take for a slightly elevated blood pressure may be the culprit. That medicine shall not be taken between now and then, so I also pray that my pressure will remain steady and normal through this time of waiting for the white cells to regenerate to a normal level.

I cannot say this has not sent some upset into my life. But I trust my God on these new pathways into these high places that I have not visited before.

The LORD God is my strength,
And he will make my feet like hinds' feet,
And he will make me to walk upon mine high places.
Habakkuk 3:19

Funny, when my children have faced health challenges (then and now) I instinctively rely on God's strength for His powers far exceed mine, and the twisty pathway I follow consumes all of my thoughts and actions as I reach up and out to help my child. Now that the trouble lies deep within me I have been stunned a bit . . . in denial, maybe, as I weigh the words and face the possibilities.

These past few days I have not blogged, but rather busied myself in the cottage routine, the family meals, and the simple pleasures of baking bread, braiding tresses, and smiling over candlelight at my loved ones as we dine in the glorious balm of a summer's eve.

How blessed to pause and drink in the fragrance of summer, knowing the Father's hand placed the very fragrance of the lily there for me to enjoy this very day. Much to my surprise, I had forgotten how stunning the view afforded from such High Places . . . a truly joyful place to be, so long as I keep a safe distance from the edge.

Thank you for your prayers, dear ones.

Please Pray for Me . . .

. . . as I open up my heart this Tuesday morning and share my Journey to Joy at a ladies' luncheon at church.

The butterflies in my stomach have caused such a racket that I have decided to reach out to all of you for prayer. I know the journey has been wonderful and the Lord will guide me as I pour out the truth that has been stored up in my heart, pondered deeply, prayed over, and given to Him as a gift . . . an offering.

And yet . . . [flutter, flutter]

Just as the snowball bush (pictured above) emerges quietly from the cocoon of its bud, astonishing me every year with its abundance of full-bodied flowers (pictured below), so I pray that the message I share will pass from my brimming heart and bloom with praises to The One who has protectively held my hand through every shadowed valley, has gripped me firmly on each treacherous incline, and has embraced me in the dance of pure joy every step of the way. He has not failed me; nor will He ever.

It is good to pause and look back over the landscape from whence one has come. To see how far one has journeyed . . . and how good it feels to be right here, right now, right this way.

The joy of the Lord is [my] strength.
Nehemiah 8:10