They tell me all this shifting and rearranging is a good thing. Perhaps so. But the next time they "simplify" my tax form and tell me it's for my good, I may cry. At the risk of sounding like an old fuddy-duddy (younger readers can look up that term) I sincerely wish things would slow down a bit. The rest of the world may be glad to see 2011 arrive, but personally, I wish 2010 would have hung around a bit longer.

   That said, you probably noticed that this month's newsletter is different and for this change, I have no one but myself to blame. Most of the content is the same, but the look is new and there are a couple of features that might interest you and if you've got a comment I'd love to hear from you. After all, maybe not all change is totally bad.

   One new tidbit is the A Woman Once Said feature in the left column. Every month I'll be posting quotes from women that are worth considering. I'm also collecting such quotes, so if you have something that impressed you, pass it along.
 

   I'll also be continuing with the series on Christian women from History that I began a few months ago. This study has been fascinating. Even though I consider myself widely read and have been a student of Christian history for years, I did not realize the rich heritage left to us by these Godly women of the past. Sometime, I hope to put together a book about them, but in the meantime, the biggest challenge I face is how to reduce these rich lives to 1500 words or less! This is always the longest article in the newsletter, and if you haven't read one in the past, I suggest you take time to look over this one. You might be surprised.

   Of course, the feature One Reader's Journey is still part of the newsletter. If you would like to have your own story featured, contact me. Here is your opportunity to fulfill the command that we "Let the redeemed of the Lord say so!"

   I still don't like change, but life has never asked my preferences before setting the pace. So, I guess I will just have to make a resolution to be more flexible in spite of my inclination to fight the system. Most people welcomed 2011 with fireworks. I ushered it in with a bout of pneumonia and a basket full of unanswered questions. Thanks to modern medicine I can look forward to the pneumonia soon being gone (PTL!) but I suspect the questions will track with me far into the coming year.

   This situation unnerves me a bit for the last time something like this happened (1988) my life took a sudden, 180 degree turn and the changes were breathtaking. In that year, my church, job and living arrangements changed. My last two kids left home, the bank threatened to repossess my home, I had a car wreck, became a college graduate and was drug kicking and screaming to live in the Dallas Metroplex. I'm still drawing stories and book illustrations from that rocking, shifting, changing year. But my real worry as I face 2011 is the sense of "d�j� vous." What if history repeats itself? For someone who hates change, the prospect is eerie. 

Footprints in History, continued
   

    We may never know the full answer to that question but, after sifting through the writing she left behind, I suspect one reason may have been her inner nature that constantly reached out to possibilities that lay just beyond her grasp. For each child she saved, she knew others were still in danger. For every book she wrote and every Christian she inspired she knew others were left untouched. For each goal she achieved, she could see another higher one ahead. And, most of all, she knew how far short she fell from being all she might possibly be in Christ.

    In one of her books, Gold Cord, Amy tells of a trip taken one beautiful September day with a group of orphaned girls. The children wanted to follow a nearby stream to its source but Amy knew they had little idea how arduous such a teak through the jungle would be and resisted the prospect. But after much pleading, she agreed to go with them and try to find the fountainhead.

   On and on the group struggled higher with each step. From morning through mid afternoon they pressed forward/upward. At each bend in the stream the children found new delights and excitement built as new vistas, accomplishments and surprises unfolded.

   Yet, just as it seemed they might be successful, their path was suddenly blocked. A tree had crashed through the forest just where the banks were too steep to climb and the undergrowth too tangled to penetrate. The trunk was covered with orchids and a beautiful wall of flowers barred the way completely. It was as though nature said, "This far, but not one step more."

   To Amy, this was an illustration of her life with God. She could press on. She could work. She could make progress and accomplish things through the strength of the Spirit. But, she could never fully embrace all the possibilities or know the end of the journey from this side of eternity. It was a frustration that required humility to accept, but also held a thorn that plagued her lifelong. Could she have gone higher if she tried harder? Was there an opportunity she missed by choosing personal comfort instead? The questions sometimes teased her from the shadows and occasionally drove her to her knees. They even found expression in her poerty.

From prayer that asks that I may be
Sheltered from winds that beat on Thee,
From fearing when I should aspire,
From faltering when I should climb higher,
From silken self, O Captain, free
Thy Soldier who would follow Thee.

From subtle love of softening things,
From easy choices, weakening,
Not thus are spirits fortified,
Not this way went the Crucified,
From all that dims Thy Calvary,
O Lamb of God, deliver me.

Give me the love that leads the way,
The faith that nothing can dismay,
The hope no disappointments tire,
The passion that will burn like fire,
Let me not sink to be a clod,
Make me Thy fuel, Flame of God.

   Yet with all her passion to press on to perfection and her fear of failure, Amy was anything but a self-flagellating mystic. Here was a woman who knew how to laugh, entertain children, and keep her fears in perspective. The suspicion of personal failure might tease from the shadows, but she pushed back with solid theology and a determination to keep her life centered on Jesus-not on herself and not on her fears. She once advised a friend, "If the day ends in what seems like failure, don't fret. Tell Him you're sorry. Even so, don't be discouraged. All disappointment is of the devil. We don't need to press Him, as if we had to deal with an unwilling [or unsmiling] God."
 

   These words of wisdom were more than a clich� or wishful thinking. Amy lived them and sought to implement their freedom day by day, year by year. Yet, her biggest challenge and strongest temptation to give into self-condemnation didn't come until the last twenty years of her life.
 

   Since her youth, Amy suffered a neurological problem that frequently left her in pain or even bedridden for weeks at a time. She had nearly been declared unfit for missionary service because of health. More than a few expressed concerns that she would get on the field, begin the work, then become a burden to others as her health broke. She fought her own fears and the questions of others by believing if God called her, there was surely a need for her service and she would not fail while leaning on him. But during the times when illness recycled she found it difficult to resist the notion that she had failed and become nothing more than a burden to others.

 

   Then, in 1931, she was venturing outside with a flashlight doing a last minute check on construction work at the orphanage. She did not see a deep, recently dug trench and tumbled in seriously injuring herself. The combination of genetic nerve disease and nerve damage from the fall was devastating. Although she continued to direct the large operations of the compound for several years, she was confined as a semi-invalid to one room.

 

   Year after year the disability progressed. Year after year there was more pain and less ability to contribute to the ministry. It was then old doubts resurfaced. Should she try to return to Ireland? Was she any use at all in India? Was she a burden rather than help? Had she failed?

 

   Over time, the questions were answered by others who stepped forward to take leadership. Children she had trained and loved were now capable adults and bit by bit Amy released control. Changes were in the wind and new challenges on the horizon, but the wisdom and love of the Lord that Amy had instilled in the children of the orphanage was not extinguished as old ways passed and new ways were embraced.
 

   Through all the changes and doubt, Amy never left India. No matter how incapacitated she became, others still needed her and they repeatedly told her so. Her contributions might no longer be public, her voice silent, her strength depleted and her leadership passed to others, but Amy was not a failure. Her courage, prayers, wisdom and voice might be confined to one room, but the Spirit of God within her was not. Through love and vision and humility, Amy Carmichael inspired everyone who served her right to the very end.

   Amy requested a simple funeral. She did not even want a coffin or head stone. Today, if you visit her grave, you will not find a large monument to a great woman. Only  a small memorial birdbath resting in a little garden. It is a fitting memorial-humble, yet peaceful-and most of all, it is earthly evidence of a life well lived by a woman who in spite of physical limitations and doubts was anything but a failure.

 

  Back to Footprints in History

One Reader's Journey, continued

    I did not start acting like a Christian until 2006 when I was born again and since then I it natural to talk to God daily. I have often felt His presence and He's has gotten me through some tough times, but three weeks ago a comment from a friend jarred me and waling by faith moved to a new level.

   The story began a few months earlier when one evening I noticed a dry patch on my upper chest and investigating it, I found a lump close by. My local doctor referred me to a specialist to take a look at it and run some tests, but insurance would not cover one test and I became very distraught.

    Both my husband and I knew this situation was serious and needed to be looked at by a specialist, but where should we go? And, how could we find a physician who would accept our insurance? I remember bowing my head and asking for God's help to find a good doctor who would accept my insurance. 

   We found a physician quickly and I believe this was a direct answer to prayer but that didn't keep me from being worried. My original doctor said he was referring me to the most well-know doctor in the state. This new person was a radiologist and surgeon no one around my town had heard of. Had God really done this? I questioned, and then had to take another step in my faith walk believing God was still in control. It wasn't easy.

   At the appointment, they found I had breast cancer and needed an immediate lumpectomy. Again, I worried and questioned. How could that be? I am only 41 and breast cancer does not run in my family. How could God let this happen to me?

   Then God touched my life in a special way. A way I was not expecting. He sent me a truly great support team! My husband surprised me by becoming my number one prayer supporter and a colleague whom I did not think God would use stepped up to help me through the darkest days. At one of my lowest points she said, "Stop trying to control this! Just ask [God] for help!"

   So, that is just what I did. I stopped wondering if this was the end of my life, I stopped questioning "why" and just prayed for healing every day.  Sometimes I prayed alone; sometimes with others-most often and sweetly with my husband/prayer warrior!

   Now, surgery is over. We found the cancer had not spread to the lymph nodes and it appears things are fine. I even discovered my new surgeon / radiologist (whom I doubted so) is the best in my state! Today, I am so thankful my heavenly Father walked me through this journey.  Every single time I thought I could not deal with this diagnosis one more day, I would run to Him pleading for comfort and every time I got the comfort though it came in many different forms.

   One example of comfort was a book called The Prayer of Jabez. The little book elaborates on a character that only has two short verses in the Bible. Jabez prayed and asked God to pour out his blessings, expand his territories, and keep evil away. God honored Jabez' prayer and I know He honors mine too. It was hard to walk by faith and believe God would do good things for me even when I faced cancer surgery. But, when I accepted and believed that, a comfort filled me that I can't explain in earthly terms.  Our God is truly an awesome God.

Kass Warner is a reader living in Indiana

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