To be shrewd or not to be shrewd, THAT is the question

It’s a struggle to continue to want to do good to and for people when one has been hurt in the process of offering goodness. However, I struggle when wondering how much caution should be present when offering empathy, understanding, and support to others. We are not to be gullible pawns but neither are we supposed to be blatant connivers. What is the balance?

Matthew 10 says that one should be as shrewd as snakes, but as innocent as doves.

To be Shrewd means having or showing keen awareness and sound judgment. Shrewd suggests a sharp intelligence, discerning, and hard -headed insight. It’s hard for me to find a balance between lessons learned through difficult circumstances in life which causes me to be shrewd as a snake, but not necessarily as innocent as a dove. How do you hold on to innocence once it has been destroyed?

Innocence means to be uncorrupted by evil, malice, or wrong doing. Unfortunately, I have seen more than my fair share of all of the above. Because of this, I feel that I have a lot more shrewdness then I do innocence—is it possible that this can get in the way of ministry and understanding of both circumstances and others?

What’s the difference between being judgmental and calling it like you see it?

Is this sense of shrewdness considered wise or opinionated?

If it looks like a skunk, smells like a skunk, and acts like a skunk, chances are, it’s a skunk. It’s hard for me to believe otherwise, though I am challenged to think that maybe I should.

I don't want my shrewdness to get in the way of ministry, but I also do not want to be hurt in the process. Is that a conundrum?

Needless to say, this is an inner battle that I am having.

A Saga: That Rather Large Bump in the Road

September 1994:

A typically happy 5 year old girl started to vomit. She had a frequent fever and the “flu” every 2 weeks.

October 1994:

With the frequent “flu” and fevers, she also contracted walking pneumonia.

November 1994:

The fevers continued and she was given antibiotics for an unknown infection.

December 1994:

The vomiting continued. She was losing weight. She was so thin that she had to wear clothes made for a 2 year old. The doctors finally agreed to do blood work where they discovered that she had mono and slight blood abnormalities.

January 1995:

She then got a terrible case of the chicken pox--- it was in her throat, nose, and everywhere. She continued to vomit on and off. The dr.’s prescribed stronger antibiotics.

February 1995:

The little girl was deprived of all energy. Dark circles began to form under her eyes—a reminder that would never go away. Her kidneys shut down. The doctors gave her a bag of IV fluids, but it had no affect on her. Her liver and spleen began to swell, and her bone marrow was suppressed. Finally, she was admitted to the hospital.

~~~~~~

I remember….

At the age of 5 in September, I was sleeping next to my brother ( I was scared to sleep alone), and I looked at him thinking about how much I loved him and never wanted to lose him. I kissed him on the forehead that night because, for some reason, I was scared… scared that I may not see him again. It was almost like a premonition. The next morning I woke up throwing up and with an unbearable stomach pain.

I remember….

I was sleeping in my parent’s room. I woke up because, of course, I had just thrown up. My mom cleaned up my bed while my dad patiently and lovingly washed me off. He would tell me sweetly that it was okay--- I felt bad that I couldn’t even stand myself up to help wash myself off, and that he had to do it all. The moment I was laid back down, I threw up again. This happened repeatedly throughout the night and for months to come.

I remember…

The day my mom was on the phone. She was crying. I couldn’t eat. I refused to eat. I didn’t want to throw up again, but I was in pain because I was so hungry. Next thing I know, I’m laying in the back seat of the car on my mom’s lap. We stopped at the BP down the street to get me mini peanut butter crackers to snack on. I remember driving under the stone bridge in Cleveland wondering where we were going.

I remember…

My dad carried me from the car into the hospital. It smelled like some weird cleaner. The nurse asked me how I was feeling. I said good, and she laughed. They poked me with needles. I don’t remember feeling any pain. I didn’t cry. I was too weak to cry. I was sick.

I remember….

I woke up in a machine. It was a CATscan machine. I was scared--- I felt like I was in a coffin. I cried a lot. My dad tickled my toes to try to make me laugh and feel better… to let me know he was there. I didn’t like laying there by myself. My mom always laid next to me… every night she slept with me in the tiny hospital bed.

I remember…

My dad bought me a stuffed animal bunny. I named her floppy. I still have her. I also asked for a coloring book. He bought me a coloring book and crayons. I was so happy and excited. I soon burst into tears when I realized I couldn’t color because of all the needles in my right arm. It was too painful and I couldn’t bend my arm enough to color. I tried my left hand, but it just didn’t work. I didn’t understand why the needles had to be there in the first place.

I remember…

Not having a clue what the word leukemia meant, but that it was what I had. The prognosis was uncertain. The dr.’s had several conferences with my parents to plan the next weeks course of action. I had no idea what was going on though--- my only concern was why I couldn’t order pancakes for breakfast like my roommate. It wasn’t on my “allowed to eat” menu. When I would sit in the hall of the hospital, the nurse would give me a popsicle--A red one upon my request. While I was concerned about what color popsicle I was going to get, my parents were concerned about possibly losing their child.

I remember…

They took my blood and took it back to the lab. They were preparing me for a bone marrow tap. The results came back. They had never seen anything like it before. My Dr., Dr. Honey, came in and took a second sample to double check to make sure that the results were accurate. The Dr. herself drew the blood and hand delivered it to the lab and waited for the results. Though slight, my bone marrow started working, and the staff couldn't believe it. I was beginning to heal. My family could believe it, though. We felt the prayers, and we knew the power of God. God had given my mom the verse in Psalm 91, “With long life I will satisfy him and show him my salvation.” and that is the verse my family held onto. Everyone was crying tears of joy. The sound of laughter found its way up my throat and out of my mouth. For a moment, I didn’t feel any pain.

I was smiling.

Chasing the Sun

Today was a perfect beach day—it was everything you would imagine it to be. Not a cloud was in the sky, the water was calm, and the sand smooth. The sun was shining bright and warmed the body the moment you walked outside. The rays from the sun left my skin a beautiful golden brown and my hair a bright honey yellow.

HOWEVER...

The sun's position is constantly changing--- going from the east side of the sky to the west side of the sky, and I have to adapt to that change. For a majority of the day, I can simply adjust my body to face the direction of the sun to feel its full warmth. But as it moves further and further to the west and as it begins to set, I feel cold. At this point, I have a choice to make. Do I give in to the chill and go inside away from the sun's beauty and light, or do I throw on a hoody and change location so I can continue to enjoy it?

In life, things are constantly changing. You can choose to either throw in the towel when it gets a little cold and miss out on some of the beauty of life, or you can adapt to the change by throwing on a hoody and chase after the sun. It’s your choice. The way in which you adapt may not be ideal, but it may be necessary to help you get through that chill until the sun rises again.

Don’t ever stop chasing after the SON.

The fighter in me

"Happy is the man who can endure the highest and the lowest fortune. He who has endured such changeablility with calmness has deprived misfortune of its power."
- Marcus Annaeus Seneca Roman Philosopher

A Saga: Thumbs Up

At the ripe old age of 4 years old, before I understood where true peace came from (as mentioned in my previous saga post), I found peace in nothing less then my right thumb. That’s right, I was a thumb sucker…. even in the womb! The thumb and the blankey went with me EVERYWHERE: in the car, in the store, in the restaurant, to friend’s houses, while watching tv, while eating, while sleeping…well, I think you get the picture. Yep, that thumb was permanently glued to my mouth and that blankey was permanently glued to my nose and nothing no one would say or do could convince me to rid myself of such a wonderful habit…. Or so I thought.

I was a rather gullible child. Actually, I’m still rather gullible, but have become a lot wiser due to life experiences, but those are stories for another time. Anyways, as a young child, I would always take weekend trips with grandma and papa to West Virginia to visit good ‘ol Great Aunt Rita. She was a sweet, clever, sharp, independent little old lady who had dentures and would eat grapes without her teeth for breakfast. I never did understand how she managed that. Unbeknownst to me, my parents had mentioned my thumb sucking habit to Aunt Rita. They were all worried about an overbite, germs, and not to mention I was a little old to still be sucking my thumb! So leave it to Aunt Rita—she was bound and determined to get me to stop! How did she go about managing this task? Well, she walked right over to me and had me put my hands together. She would say, “Now Amanda, look at your thumbs. Do you see how much shorter your right thumb is then your left thumb?” My eyes grew wide as I saw this seemingly huge difference in my thumb sizes and nodded my head in agreement. She then told me, “Well, that’s because your thumb is about to fall off. If you keep sucking your thumb, it’s going to shrivel up and fall right off!”

Okay, this woman was brilliant!

My gullible mind was convinced so that night I slept with my hand behind my back. I was NOT going to be a thumbless child! The next morning, I woke up happy with my great success of not sucking my thumb for one whole night! Of course I looked at my hands to compare thumbs and wouldn't you know... my right thumb was “growing”!

We all rejoiced in my success at not sucking my thumb. In fact, I had daddy take me to the Goodwill so I could give my blankey to someone who needed it more than me. However, the rejoicing didn’t last long. Shortly after, at the age of 5, I hit a rather large bump in the road that caused me to resort back to my comforting thumb.

This bump changed my whole life.

The Closet

When a lot of events occur in life that are completely out of your control and are thrown at you all at once, you have no choice but to learn how to compartmentalize in your head. In my head, I have a closet. Let me take you there…

I have always envisioned it being a small closet with one tiny shelf made of a simple piece of hardwood. This shelf is near the top of the closet, and I have to go on my tippy-toes to reach whatever is on the shelf. The only time the closet is lit is when I open the door and the sun shines through the window across the room, hitting the inside of the closet just perfectly to expose the articles on the shelf. I look up to the shelf and I see shoeboxes piled on top of one another. Each shoe box is labeled on the outside. Inside each shoe box are pictures I have taken of different scenarios in my life. Some pictures contain happy childhood memories, fun adventures, and simply joyous times, but some pictures are also daunting. My job is to look through the pictures and dispose of the memories that contain hurt and have become burdens. This is a very tedious process.

There’s one box in particular I imagine being shoved off to the left corner of the shelf. Not all the way in the back, but near it. This box is surrounded by other boxes and not the easiest one to get to. But I have finally stood tall enough to reach the box, and the lid has been opened. I wouldn’t have been able to reach this box, however, if God wouldn’t have lifted me up and sustained me.

Psalm 55:22 “Cast your cares on the LORD and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous fall.”

I recall a dream from a couple nights ago that I know came straight from the Lord. I believe this whole heartedly. The timing of this dream was no coincidence, in fact, it was rather uncanny. What was the dream? Well, here it goes….

I was staring out the window in my house, looking out towards my backyard. To the right of me stood the two friends I had watched go down a path of destruction not too very long ago. (It was at this time in my life that I knew I had no choice but to say goodbye to them. I witnessed the effects that the power of darkness can have, and the anguish this caused me is difficult to describe. This is a glimpse into the box.) I saw these two friends next to me and I shuddered from head to toe, and my heart ached for a moment. When I looked back out the window, I saw the most radiant sunset. The sunset was an array of oranges, reds, pinks, and purples. There are no words to describe fully the colors of this sunset--- probably only colors we will be able to see in Heaven I would imagine. Billowy clouds swirled around the sun, reflecting the beaming colors. Suddenly, the sunset began to fade. I watched it disappear as what I thought was a large black cloud covered the sky. This “black cloud”, though, began to move closer and closer to the window at which I stood. As it drew near, I realized it was a large cloud of black birds. From this cloud I heard a deep, wicked, non human voice. I knew I was staring evil in the face. At first I felt fear and wanted to run as far away from this window as I could, but I knew that if I ran, it would only follow. Instead, I placed my hand on the window and confidently exclaimed, “You are not welcome here, in the name of Jesus.” I then ran into my parent’s room, and proceeded to look out their bedroom window. When I looked out, the black cloud was fading. The dark sky was becoming a blinding white. I looked up into the sky to see a cloud of white birds consuming the black cloud that had covered the sky only moments before, and I was no longer afraid.

Then I woke up. A dream that probably lasted a mere 5 minutes changed my whole outlook.

Perhaps there is hope after all.