I have posted below a slightly edited email I sent to someone to explain why the 23rd Psalm is special to me and my family. As most of you who have read my “About Me” page know, I call myself a follower of the teachings of Christ. (I don’t say Christian much anymore as that has come to be identified as the opposite of what a disciple of Christ should be seen as today. Another post for another day.) I make no apologies for that fact, but I also do not use this blog as a “bully pulpit” to tell others why I disagree with them. If you are offended by blatant references to God and his desire for a personal relationship with us, I ask you to be patient as other topics will return soon.
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After last weekend’s Easter services at church, I took the bulletin/devotional guide supplied by our church home to my wife (more on why she wasn’t there later) and she correctly determined the pastor was about to start a series on the 23rd Psalm and started immediately telling me I needed to write our, actually my story, of an encounter with the Psalm. So, after a little trepidation, I decided to write.
My wife and I have been married for 17 years as of this coming November and we have gone through and supported each other through a lot of life changes, however, it almost looked like it was over for us after just a few months way back in 1993 in Myrtle Beach, SC. My wife awoke one morning with tremendous pain in her abdomen and it just would not stop. Both of us were rather hesitant to go to the doctor because as newlyweds, we didn’t have a lot and we are also both very stubborn about going to a doctor in the first place. As the day went on, the pain seemed to get better and then, mid afternoon, it attacked with a vengeance and my wife who hates going to the doctor said “let’s go!” That was my first sign this would not be a normal visit to the ER.
As we entered the emergency room, I figured it would be just like any other visit, with us sitting and waiting, especially in the small hospital there at Myrtle Beach, on night during the summer when all the tourists had burned themselves out in the sun. My second clue this was not going to be an ordinary visit was the nurses reaction to the symptoms. After one run-through, they took my wife back immediately and the indicator for the room she was placed in glowed red while all the others were green or yellow. I wasn’t a “medical professional”, but I have a rudimentary understanding of triage and realized that wasn’t good. I stayed out in the lobby and finished the obligatory paperwork and then, being young and stupid, sat and waited instead of demanding to go be with her.(I’d never taken someone, let alone my wife to an ER. I was usually the one being taken, A different story for later.) In my head, I was still telling myself she was going to be OK, but just in case, I started calling my mom and dad who were pastors in NC and her Mom and Step-dad in Daytona Beach FL. They couldn’t “do” anything, but at least they could pray. That turned out to be the first good decision of the afternoon.
After a while the nurses finally realized I was in the lobby and not with Lynn. they let me go back to be with my wife. The doctor came in and told us that after a CT scan and an ultrasound, they “thought” she may have appendicitis, that was the good news, the bad news was they thought the appendix had ruptured to the point she was in danger of a massive system wide infection. In my head I instantly thought “If anything bad happens it’s my fault for not making her come earlier.” They prepped for emergency surgery and called in their “expert” team to handle the issue. I called our families and my brother left for Myrtle Beach immediately, carrying my mom and his fiance with him. They left within the hour, but even with that, they wouldn’t make it to Myrtle Beach until hours after the surgery was over. Our own pastor was out of town on vacation at the time as was most of the rest of the small 20 member church, so there was no one local to call to be with us. We were on our own.
About 20 minutes before Lynn was to be moved to surgery, the doctor came back and gave us even more bad news. He told us that after more review of the scans, it appeared this was not a burst appendix but some “mass” which had enveloped her ovaries and uterus. They would attempt to remove it and in the process, may have to remove most of her reproductive systems if the mass had encroached too much and became hard to remove. Also, if the mass was cancerous, well “We’ll discuss that tomorrow,” he said. Either way “You may not be able to have children after this.” Then the orderlies came in and moved Lynn to the gurney to go to surgery. We had no time to digest what we just heard and even less time to prepare ourselves for what was to come.
Being, “The MAN”, I kept a tight reign on my emotions so Lynn wouldn’t be afraid. I latter learned she was trying to do the same for me. (We’ve since learned to never do that again, another story) I walked beside her bed as they wheeled it down the hall until we got to the double doors leading to surgery. We kissed and I watched as they wheeled her in and the doors slammed shut with a sound that shook me to the core. I instantly thought, “That could be the last time you see her alive…” and I lost it. I started crying and walking and I know to some in the area I had to look like a drunk man or worse, a crazy man. You may think it a bit melodramatic or over reacting, but there I was, a 24 year old, away from all family, no one to lend even a shoulder to cry on and watching the one person I held most dear to me wheeled away. I am surprised I could even walk. Not wanting to make even more of a scene, I pushed my way into a nearby open room that was dark with rows of seats and sat down as thoughts of dread and fear ran through me. Would she be alright? Would I be able to hold her again? Did she have cancer? Were we going to be able to have children? And on and on and on.
I finally gained a semblance of self control and looked up to realize I had found my way to the small chapel in the hospital. A coat of dust was on everything but the bible sitting on a reading table at the front of the room. This bible was one of those huge flowery bibles you see set around like decorations and as I walked up to look at it, I noticed it had been left open at Psalm 23. Now as the son of a pastor, Bishop actually, I knew this passage of scripture and could recite it word for word, but for the first time, as the words echoed around in my head, I really HEARD it. I had always read it as “the LORD is my shepherd” putting all the emphasis on how big God is, but this time, I realized the writer probably meant it to be read, “the Lord is MY shepherd, I will lack for nothing.” In that instant of illumination I grasped a meaning to those words that had escaped me before. The God of the universe was MY shepherd, he was watching over ME, not just the other folks in the world, but ME personally. He was making sure MY feet walked the right path and that I received the care and, even discipline I needed. He watch over ME, Gave ME food when I was hungry and led ME beside the still waters, and He restores MY soul. In that moment, I caught a glimpse of the Good Shepherd reaching down to ME to pick me up when I was hurting and to seek me out when I was lost. I saw him carrying ME on His shoulders when I had lost the strength to go on. I then felt a peace come over me and it felt as though I was surrounded in an embrace I just can’t explain. In that moment I knew that the Shepherd was going to take care of us and it would all work out for the best, no matter what we needed to face. Since that night encounter with the Shepard of Psalm 23, I know, beyond any doubt, He will take care of me if I rest in him.
Well, as you can probably predict, my wife made it out of surgery OK. The mass turned out to be a ruptured cyst that enveloped one of her fallopian tubes and an ovary and it was not cancerous in any way. The doctors told us we probably still would not be able to conceive on our own due to the possible damage elsewhere, but about 2 years later, God proved them wrong by giving us a beautiful son who is now a rambunctious teenager.
Fast forward to today (as if this wasn’t long enough, sorry) and to my wife at home instead of at Easter service. As you already know, her mother came to live with us after going through Chemo and radiation for lung cancer. She has been with us since just after Thanksgiving and we have enjoyed all the time with her we’ve had, even when the news came back the cancer had spread and there was nothing left for us to do. After a long month or so in the hospital, Lynn’s mother is now home and under the care of Hospice. Lynn has taken a leave from work and making cookies with the cookie ministry as well as coffee service to spend these last days taking care of Mom. While Mom is drifting in and out of lucidity, there is one passage of scripture my wife, son, and I have clinged too over the last few weeks and that is, you guessed it, Psalm 23. I have read it to mom (she likes the KJV version, I do also sometimes) and when I get to “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.” she smiles, even while apparently asleep. That smile is another affirmation that the Shepherd is there and watching and will soon take his precious sheep home to be with Him. We rest in that and know He is in control. It still is not easy, but the Shepherd never promised easy, only that he would be with us though it all. “I will be with you always, even to the very end of everything” (My version, but it’s close)
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April 21, 2009 at 7:32 pm
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