I love the fact that the God to whom I have given control of my life is bigger and stronger than I am.
Several months before I yielded my life to Christ we’d moved into an abandoned log cabin in the Cariboo region of British Columbia. Dad was off on another of his escapades. In those days women stayed with their husbands, no matter what, so it was a daring move for her time when Mom contacted friends of her family and obtained permission to use one of their unoccupied buildings as our home. We spent several years there and Mom made it as cheery as possible. She learned how to trap rabbits, cut and freeze donated moose meat and melt snow for our winter water supply. Our government correspondence school materials arrived and departed on the semi-annual mail run from Kamloops. As the eldest of the then four children I’d felt a responsibility to “protect” Mom. One evening in particular I remember lying across my bed, weeping. A simple geographic move hadn’t erased memories; besides, young as I was, I watched Mom struggle daily just to provide the necessities of life for her children. That’s when I thought of Kay and the song she’d taught us to sing: “Into my heart, into my heart, come into my heart, Lord Jesus….” I sang it until I knew it was a reality – He had come into my life and brought hope with Him.
Had that merely been a childhood experience I wouldn’t be penning these words. On the contrary, be assured that emotion alone could never have sustained me. Like my mom, I’ve battled major illness, including cancer, struggled with depression, especially prior to coming to grips with the sexual abuse I’d experienced as a child, and I’ve known the stress that comes with taking on the financial support of our household when my husband no longer could work. It has been during those times that Christ’s presence and promises have become increasing real to me. As I’ve already noted, there have been struggles, failures and disappointments but through them all, there has been hope. Many times it was only the anticipation of a better future that gave me the courage to slog through the difficult present.
But lest I give the impression that life has held no joy, I must say that I’ve been blessed with many wonderful things: our sons and their families, our extended families, friends, more than eighteen cancer-free years, and all that I’ve needed (not everything I’ve wanted, but all that I’ve needed). What I’m trying to say is that my commitment to Him has been matched a million times over by His commitment to me.
What do prayer, reading of the Bible and church attendance mean to me as a senior? What makes them such an important part of my life when it would be easy to sit back and enjoy a well-deserved rest? Call them a crutch, a fantasy or an admission of my weakness of character but to me they are the pillars upon which my life is built – and frankly, I love the fact that the God to whom I have given control of my life is bigger and stronger than I am.
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