Sunday, May 23, 2021

20 Years Ago

 A long time ago there was a woman who was treated badly by the people she was working for in their attempt to solve a problem their way. As their plan progressed she was treated even worse and she ran away. God pursued her and met her where she was. He didn’t tell her everything was going to be ok but He did tell her that her descendants would be too many to count and a bit of what the future would be for her son. She called Him “the God who sees” and she named the place He pursued her “a well of the Living One who sees me.” (You can read the whole story in Genesis 16.)   

Have you ever felt seen like that? Have you ever been in a dark place and God shows up and and gives you hope and encouragement that you need to keep doing the difficult thing that lies before you?

That happened to me at church today.

May 23 has long been a difficult day for me. I knew it was coming up and I warned Glenn that I would need time this afternoon to stop and write because this year would mark 20 years since May 23rd became a significant day to me, not just a normal day on the calendar.

2001 was a year that marked many Americans forever. That infamous day in September when we were attacked changed us and a lot of our assumptions and thoughts of the future were forever impacted. For me the day in 2001 that changed my life forever was a few months earlier.

On May 23, 2001 my mom, who had had lupus for many years and had recently suffered a few heart attacks, was taken in for a heart catheterization. A heart catheterization is a pretty routine procedure. My dad had had one before and I didn't think that there was any need for concern. Unfortunately, things did not go as planned and our lives were forever changed. We drove the 15+ hours up from Tennessee to be with her in the ICU and within a couple of days it was decided that more long term help was going to be needed and so Glenn went down to TN where friends helped put all of our possessions into a moving truck which he then drove up to NY where we put our stuff into storage as our little family of 3 moved in with my dad for a season and did what we could to support him as he made daily trips to the hospital to be with mom. Mom bounced between the various levels of care in the hospital in Rochester until late that summer when she was stable enough to be moved to a nursing home in Geneva where she spent the last 16-ish months of her life unable to talk or move of her own volition.  

  Glenn and I had plans. We knew the direction that we felt God calling us to and what steps we needed to take to make it a reality but that day everything got put on hold as we stepped into a very difficult season.

   This morning my count up Psalm was Psalm 42. It’s a Psalm that speaks to me deeply. It speaks of a longing for things to be made right, a longing to come into the presence of God. It speaks of crying day and night and wondering where God is. It speaks of remembering good times before. It wonders at the despair in the soul. It speaks of feeling forgotten and mourning and oppression, being crushed and reviled. I have felt all of those things, especially in that very difficult season. The Psalmist ends with hope and choosing to praise God because He is the help of my countenance and my God.

   Psalm 42 was mentioned this morning during the church service. I love when God does that. Ross King, a singer/ songwriter was at church today and he shared about his experience with depression in both word and song. It felt like a hug from God, like He was saying, “I see you. I know what day today is. I have felt the pain you feel. I value your story. I have watched you struggle over the last 20 years and I am here for you, for your healing and to give you hope.”

   I have long struggled with depression. It didn’t start that day 20 years ago but the battle with depression definitely increased as things progressed with my mom and after the births of my girls. Depression has been a regular companion of mine over the years, worse in those gloomy New York winters and as particular dates popped up on the calendar. Over the years I’ve learned some of my triggers and I’ve learned some things to help to mitigate the impact like journaling, getting regular time in the Word (particularly the Psalms), time outside (preferably near water), and time exercising (usually walks or runs). 

   It was so encouraging to me to hear a sermon on “the elephant in the room” of depression on this 20th anniversary of the day my life as I knew it changed. One thing that stuck out to me today was something that his wife recognized in him one day: that he was grieving the death of the life he thought he'd have and he didn’t have time to grieve the loss of his dad. That really stuck out to me. Like I said, Glenn and I had plans the morning of May 23, 2001 and they changed forever that day. Not only did I have to grieve the loss of my mom as I’d always known her and then the loss of my mom’s physical presence less than 2 years later but I had to grieve the life I thought I would have. A life where my kids knew and loved their grandma and grandpa and we would stay with them when home on furlough. A life where I had a mom who knew and loved me and would pick up the phone when I called to listen and to give advice and to point me to Jesus when trials of various kinds would come and so much more. A life where we wouldn't have taken so many breaks in Glenn's education. I have had to grieve the loss of that life I thought I would have. 

   The last 20 years have looked much different than I dreamed they would have looked. Eventually Glenn did go on to finish his undergrad degree and he did become a doctor. We did work at a mission hospital for a season and, Lord willing, will do it again someday in the future. The timeline has been nothing like we had planned but I can see God’s goodness, His gracious hand and His blessings through all of the trials and detours and seasons of deep depression. He has refined me. He has comforted me as only He can. He has given me opportunities to comfort others. He has brought amazing people and circumstances into our lives that we couldn't have orchestrated in our life plan. His plan has been good, better than my plan.

   Over the years I have often felt shame at the feelings I’ve had. Sadness. Anger. Stress. Anxiety. Why be sad when I know that God has a plan and that He is going to work it out for His glory and my good? Why? Maybe because it’s another way to be like Jesus. When Jesus showed up at Lazarus’s house he knew Lazarus was dead and he knew that in a few minutes He was going to raise him from the dead. Yet, in those few minutes, Jesus cried. It’s ok to cry about what is going on and what you are feeling. It’s ok to grieve your losses. It’s ok to be sad. We live in a broken world. Things are not as they should be. Jesus felt sadness. Jesus felt anger. Jesus felt pain. Jesus felt extreme pressure. When you feel those same feelings “You're in Good Company” as Ross shared in one of his songs. 

   We were left with 3 pieces of advice for those struggling with depression:  

1.    tell someone - often the first step toward healing is to bring the hard things into the light. Name them. There is no shame in having emotions and in struggling with depression. Let others in. You don’t have to be healed and to be able to wrap it all up in a pretty bow for your story to matter. Share it.  

2.    get help - be that counseling, medication, or something else. I know that my Untying the Knots of the Heart group has been incredibly helpful to me but I think that I am going to need more than just that and I am worth the investment of counseling to get me mentally healthy. So are you.  

3.     don’t quit. 

   On this, the 20th anniversary of the day my mom’s life changed for the rest of her days on this earth and my life plan changed, I am so thankful that I follow “the God who sees me” and that He is pursuing me and healing me. I am thankful that I have learned that it's ok to ask questions and to have feelings. I'm thankful my life hasn't been messed up, He sees the big picture, and I can trust the plans He has for me.   

Thursday, July 19, 2018

Memories of His faithfulness

Facebook memories are so good for my soul. They are stones of remembrance that I can look back on in faith knowing that, just as my dear faithful Father took care of me all of those times He is still with us and He knows the next part of the story that we can't see yet.

This morning my memories took me back to that season of uncertainty at the beginning of medical school when fears were high because we didn't have a place to live as of the 1st of the month. Looking back I can see His faithfulness in allowing us to not have our own place for 2.5 months as we watched Him provide in amazing ways and through amazing people.

They also took me back to a year later when we discovered we had bedbugs and endured a hard, isolating summer getting rid of them. I’m so thankful that it was Glenn’s “last summer vacation” so he had time to work on getting rid of them and he had a summer job so we could pay for all the expensive chemicals and mattress covers.

Often they tell of the Facebook beginning of friendships I’ve made on this journey. Today's also reminded me to choose joy even in difficult circumstances which was from the beginning of residency while living in the heat of Texas with one weak window a/c unit. (I've heard we get 3 where we’re moving!).

This month my scripture writing plan has been about God being our refuge and has been so good for my soul. This morning I got to write out part of Psalms 46, one of my favorites:

“Dieu est pour nous un refuge et un appui, un secours toujours présent dans la détresse. C’est pourquoi nous sommes sans crainte quand la terre est bouleversée, quand les montagnes sont ébranlées au cœur des mers et que les flots de la mer mugissent, écument, se soulèvent jusqu’à faire trembler les montagnes. – Pause. Les bras d’un fleuve réjouissent la ville de Dieu, le sanctuaire des demeures du Très-Haut. Dieu est au milieu d’elle: elle n’est pas ébranlée; Dieu la secourt dès le point du jour. Des nations s’agitent, des royaumes sont ébranlés: il fait entendre sa voix, et la terre tombe en défaillance. L’Eternel, le maître de l’univers, est avec nous, le Dieu de Jacob est une forteresse pour nous. – Pause.
«Arrêtez, et sachez que je suis Dieu! Je domine sur les nations, je domine sur la terre.» L’Eternel, le maître de l’univers, est avec nous, le Dieu de Jacob est pour nous une forteresse. – Pause.”
‭‭Psaumes‬ ‭46:2-8, 11-12‬ 
“God is our refuge and strength, A very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change And though the mountains slip into the heart of the sea; Though its waters roar and foam, Though the mountains quake at its swelling pride. Selah. There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, The holy dwelling places of the Most High. God is in the midst of her, she will not be moved; God will help her when morning dawns. The nations made an uproar, the kingdoms tottered; He raised His voice, the earth melted. The LORD of hosts is with us; The God of Jacob is our stronghold. Selah. "Cease striving and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth." The LORD of hosts is with us; The God of Jacob is our stronghold. Selah.” Psalms‬ ‭46:1-7, 10-11‬ 

Then the Psalm for the day on PrayerMate was Psalm 139, such a good one! I'm so thankful for these little hugs that have helped to relieve the anxiety that I've been battling. I'm so thankful that He goes before us, He is with us, He is our refuge, He knows our needs, He knows the struggles that will come and how He will work out all the details, and He will be exalted. Praise Him.

Monday, June 04, 2018


Home. It's such a funny term.

The Saturday before last we were scrambling around trying to get some important paperwork together for our next step and, just before taking everything to the post office, we realized we were missing some important pieces of paper. Those papers are not here. They are "back there" in our lockbox in the home of some friends. We had the key though… that's the important part, right? In place of mailing our important paperwork we mailed the key to our friends so they can retrieve the paperwork and mail it to us.

All of the scrambling around left me feeling very unsettled and longing for “home.”
“If only I could go home and get all this paperwork straightened out.”
“If only I could go home and sort through our lockbox and see what else we left behind that we might need.”
“If only all of our stuff was in one place not spread from here to kingdom come.”
“Everything here is overwhelming. I just want to go home.”
“I just want to go home.”
“I just want to go home.”

But… going home isn't an option. We have a commitment to finish our time here and then a commitment to spend two years in the next place before we go back to the place we moved here from. I've loved my time here and I'm looking forward to seeing what the two years after this hold.

Even when we return back there in a couple of years (which we will “get to” do to raise support) I have no idea where we’ll land since there is no such thing as home. There are cities and towns we have lived in, friends and family whom we love, a few boxes in my brother’s basement and the home of a friend but no physical place to call home. Going “home” often implies going to see parents… except when you don't have any… which makes me end up longing for heaven, my true home, which isn't really a bad thing.

To be honest, I started feeling pretty sorry for myself. Lego Batman’s words ran through my mind: “Darkness. No parents.” It probably didn't help that, besides the upcoming transitions, we’re in this part of the calendar near significant dates from my past related to my parents.

I chatted with Glenn and he reminded me that we have an apartment that we live in. Yes, it doesn’t have all of our stuff but we got rid of almost everything we didn't bring with us besides memories. This is our home now. That is ok.

The next morning, when I sat down for my quiet time, I saw that the next thing on my reading/responding plan was “L.” L stands for listening and it has become my favorite part as my loving Father gently reminds me of scriptures and encourages me.

That morning He said:
“I am your home. When you are seeking and striving after some kind of security, come to Me. Your security can't be in a place where all your stuff or all your important people are. Your stuff, your important people are and will be more and more in the years to come spread from here to the ends of the earth. You can't pull everything close to you and hold them tight and think you can keep everything and everyone safe but you can trust Me! I am your home. I am your safety. I am your security. I will be with you when you have no one when you have nothing I will be there and I will be enough. You can trust Me. I will never leave you or forsake you. Keep seeking Me. Keep sneaking away with Me. Keep following Me and obeying Me. Keep trusting Me and I will prove Myself faithful, trustworthy, good, just. I am a jealous G*d. I don't want to fight this longing for home you struggle with. What you are truly longing for is Me. Keep seeking Me, my beloved child. I will be found by you. I will speak for you when you have no words. Let Me be your mouth. I love you, Sonja. I am with you. I will strengthen you. I will uphold you with My righteous right hand. You can put all of your eggs in My basket and trust Me to make and do with them what I want.”

Immediately afterwards one of my favorite songs,“Mon Secours est en Toi,” started playing in my head:
“Si la lune me glace, (if the moon makes me cold)
Le soleil menace, (the sun threatens)
Crèateur des étoiles, (Creator of the stars)
Mon Secours est en Toi. (my help/ relief/ rescue is in You)
Si mes larmes ruissellent, (If my tears fall)
Et que mon pas chancelle, (and If my steps falter)
Créateur de la terre, (Creator of the earth)
Mon secours est en toi, (my help is in You)

“Je lève les yeux, (I lift my eyes)
Vers les hauts sommets, (towards the high summits)
Toi seul est mon Dieu, (You alone are my God)
Je proclamerai: (I will proclaim)
Toi seul est ma force, (You alone are my strength)
Toi seul me restaure (You alone restore me)
Mon secours est en toi (my help is in You)
Toujours tu me portes (You always carry me)
Jamais tu ne dors (You never sleep)
Mon secours est en toi (my help is in You)

"Si la peur m’envahit (If the fear overwhelms me)
Et mon âme chavire, (and my soul capsizes)
Createur de la vie (Creator of life)
Mon secours est en toi (my help is in You)

"Ta victoire , mon espoir (Your victory, my hope)
Ton chemin, mon destin (Your path, my destiny)
Ton salut, mon refuge (Your salvation, my refuge)
Tout est en toi” (everything is in You)

He was right. In longing for “home” I wasn't really longing for a physical place. I was longing for a feeling of safety and security and of being in control. He is enough even when I don't feel safe or secure. He is way better at being in control than I am.

Turns out… the kids need their passports for their test on Tuesday so I'm glad we hadn't mailed them off yet.

He knows best.
He is enough.

I can trust Him even when I don't understand. 

Lord, through all the generation you have been our home!
Psalm 90:1 NLT 

Wednesday, May 24, 2017

A day that lives in infamy

There are many dates that live in infamy. Pearl Harbor, September 11th and others are dates that stand out in the memories of those who were alive at the time. Dates of horror. Dates of tragedy. Dates when everything changed.

For me a date that lives in infamy is May 23, 2001. 16 years ago today.

On that day my mom went in for a heart catheterization.  She had had a few mild heart attacks the weekend before and they needed to address the issues. My mom had had lupus and had been on prednisone for over 25 years and I don't know that the heart surgeon had noticed that when looking at her history or maybe he knew but decided to still risk the procedure despite her brittle blood vessels. The stint went through her blood vessel and they lost her for 10 minutes and worked on her for 30 minutes to bring her back. Not long afterwards she had a stroke and she spent the next several weeks in and out of ICUs before being stable enough to be transferred to a nursing home where she spent the rest of her life.

I came across some pictures the other day, pictures of that season, that season I don't like to remember.

I love remembering my mom like this:

It's hard to see pictures like this, when she first got transferred to the senior living facility in August.
 One thing I love about this picture though is seeing my dad read to my mom. I don't know that he ever read aloud to her before this season unless it was something he found interesting from the newspaper and I don't know if they had regular time in the Bible together before then but I know that time in God's Word was important to mom before May 23, her Bible had the Daily Bread in it opened to May 23th so I know that she read it before going to the hospital that fateful morning. Dad made it a priority to read God's Word to her since she could no longer read it for herself. It was so neat to watch my dad care for my mom and read to her from God's Word every day. He was an amazing, faithful caregiver. That's something I didn't really appreciate or realize at the time, young as I was.
We were hoping that mom would be able to someday to come home. We put our lives and plans on hold and moved from TN to NY to help out my dad, knowing that he wouldn't be able to do it on his own. The picture above is from a chance we got to bring mom home for an outing. It appears our cat made itself at home in her lap and she looks to be enjoying listening to Russ as we talked to him while he was off at college. [Do you remember being able to talk on 3 different phones in the same conversation??] She had lots of speech therapy and I know that at one point my aunt got her to say "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious" but after May 23 she could never really communicate with words. I now wonder how that made her feel, as a teacher and public speaker.
After a while dad bought a wheelchair van and she got a bit better so he was able to take her on outings more often. This picture is from Thanksgiving when we got to take her to our family gathering at my grandparents' house.

My mom loved being a grandma and, though I prefer the pictures of her from the times she snuck down to TN to snuggle that Caleb...
 Or the time we made it to NY for Thanksgiving and to show off our boy...

 Most of the time she spent with Caleb was while she was in a hospital bed on Sunday afternoons after church when we would go and spend the afternoon with her for all those months that she was in the nursing home. I used to hate these pictures because I don't want to remember mom that way but as I came across them I realize that I am so glad I have these pictures of my parents enjoying Caleb during a visit.

They loved to watch him toddling around her room, playing with the hospital curtains and "helping" to push her wheelchair. Once a month dad's cousin and her husband and a few of their friends would come with a guitar and sing some songs to mom, and mom and dad really enjoyed watching Caleb dance to the music. How I wish I would have gone and visited her more...

 The summer of 2002 we were able to bring her to my grandparent's backyard a few times for picnics and, even though she couldn't eat (she could never pass a swallow test), she enjoyed watching people, especially Caleb splashing in the pool.
We even got to have a joint birthday party together since our birthdays are only 5 days apart.
I may or may not have snuck her a taste of that whipped cream.

I wish I could find a copy of the picture from October when we had Hannah's baby dedication at church. Glenn's mom and grandma had come out for a wedding so Caleb had 5 grandmas at church that day and he just kept turning around and saying, "Grandma? Grandma? Grandma? Grandma? Grandma?" There's a picture of mom "holding" baby Hannah that I may stick in here someday if I find it.

I used to hate these pictures because they were so painful but, looking at them today, I am so thankful that I have them and I'm putting them here because I want a record of this season. Yes, it was an incredibly painful season of my life for so many reasons and I have so many regrets from that season and it still hurts to see mom all curled up like that remembering her limitations and I miss my parents terribly but God has taught me so much both during that season and since, as a result of it.

Though I sure miss and long for wisdom from this lady that visited us for Easter not too long before...
I'm glad I had the chance to live nearby and have time with this version of her for about 19 months.

I'm also thankful that God was merciful and took her home in His perfect timing so she no longer has that old, broken, deteriorating body. What I wouldn't give to have a conversation with her, to glean some of her wisdom, but, instead, I get something better - I get to go directly to the One who was the source of all of her wisdom, the Savior that she loved so much.

Yes, May 23 is a day that lives in infamy for me but He is good and does good and I can trust that He knows best, even in giving us infamous days, because He uses them for His glory and our good and I am grateful.

Wednesday, May 17, 2017

Soon this will all be but a happy memory.

"Soon this will all be but a happy memory."

These were my parting words as I left small group on Monday night. I then got choked up and left. Caleb asked me if it was legal to drive and cry. I told him I hope so because I've done it many times.

Our time in Fort Worth is coming to a close. It's hard to believe 4 years of residency are almost over. I know most of my residency wife friends are so glad it is almost over and that their husbands will soon have a more normal, hopefully better schedule.

Change-hater over here isn't as excited. I've gotten used to the "not normal" of residency. If you don't like one month it's ok. It's only a month. Unless you have back to back MCH rotations and even then it's not that bad, at least for me with almost grown humans to interact with at home. [Re-reading that, I wonder, actually, maybe I do like change as long as it doesn't involve saying goodbye and purging and packing.]

Of course, change-hater over here is also signing herself up for a life of almost constant change. A life of packing and purging every 1-3 years. A life of near constant hellos and goodbyes. It is a part of this journey we're on, until we get to go Home.

"Soon this will all be but a happy memory."

I cried as I said those words but later they made me smile. I am so grateful for the memories that I have had the privilege of having in this stage of my life. How much richer my life is because of the happy memories.

I was worried about coming to JPS because the impression that I had gotten was that it was not family friendly and the schedule would be unbearable to those at home. That has not been the case for me. God allowed Glenn to match with some incredible people some of whom we've had the privilege of living life and meeting with on a weekly basis for Bible study, encouragement and accountability. I am so grateful for these friends and the others I have been able to get to know through JPS. The schedule hasn't been that bad either. Again, it may help that I have pretty independent, almost grown humans living with me not small needy ones. Surprise, surprise, God knew what He was doing. Happy memories.

Another group of happy memories I'm mourning is the loss of our school family. At the end of PGY2 I was about to pull my hair out and quit homeschooling but God told me not to give up and pointed me towards Arlington Liber Academy, a school that meets once a week that has helped me grow as a mom and teacher and helped my kids grow as students and humans. The lessons we have learned there and the friends and mentors we have had have been priceless to us. Again, surprise, surprise, God knew what He was doing. Happy memories.

In choosing a house to live in for residency our priority was a less than five minute commute to the hospital. A friend had recommended that I look for a place near a church to get involved in. That was not a priority for me but that is exactly what God gave us. We live across the street from our church which has been SO convenient and, though it is far from perfect (probably because it is made up of humans and our family would have ruined it if it was perfect), it has been a great place for us to serve and build relationships. Many adults from there have loved, spoken truth to, prayed for, and invested in our family and for that I am very grateful. Surprise, surprise. Again, God knew what He was doing. More happy memories.

"Soon this will all be but a happy memory."

Yes, yes, it will. I now say that with a smile. I am so thankful for the memories. How grateful I am for our 4 years here. Thanks, God.

Should the Lord tarry, I am sure that there are many times in the future when I will "get" to say,
"Soon this will all be but a happy memory." I'm looking forward to and excited about the chance to keep making happy and not so happy memories and trusting the Lord that He will carry us through both.

Sunday, April 02, 2017

So Long, Tool - Part 1

Friday we said goodbye to Winnie, (no longer) our 2002 Ford Windstar. We welcomed her into our family in February of 2009, soon after our Burb died which was soon after Glenn got accepted to medical school. She's been a part of our family over 8 years. At least one of our kids don't remember life before her.

We've said goodbye to her before, almost 4 years ago just before residency started when her rear axle snapped on our way to NY for graduation. That time we resurrected her by putting a junkyard axle on her and on she rolled.

We said goodbye to her again last year when insurance considered her "totalled" after a hail storm. We then decided to keep her again and just roll with her dimpled and broken exterior and cracked windshield since she her only responsibility was to drive the less than 2 mile trip to the hospital and back every day and it would be a lot easier than going back to having one car. (We'd decided before hand not to drive her on the interstate since her frame was more rust than frame.)

Glenn always tells us the time you need to be most careful on the roads down here is when it is just starting to rain after it hasn't rained in a long time and oil has accumulated on the streets. That is what finally did her in last week. The mechanic who called Glenn about her after having her towed made us laugh. She doesn't look that bad on the outside but I'm not sure he'd ever seen a rustier, more unsafe frame. Even after costly repairs to the control arm and other things he told us her rusted out frame would deem her unsafe to drive. We knew that and were planning on getting rid of her in a couple of months when her inspection expired. She just broke up with us before we could break up with her.

I teared up as we left her with the guy who came to tow her away at the garage and we thanked God for providing her, for helping her last far longer than the 5 years I hoped she would last, for the many memories we made in her on road trips (especially MS4), and for keeping us safe in her despite her rusty frame even when she committed suicide into a curb.

Since we're back to one car again we get to juggle once again the "Do you need the van for anything? Do you need to go anywhere or should I just drive myself?" conversations that we've haven't had to have in a long time. Getting up early to run him to work reminds of regularly taking him to the schospital because we only had one car and parking was too expensive during medical school. This month Glenn is on Sports Med at an offsite clinic which means he has to travel farther than normal for work which will complicate things, especially when the kids and I have commitments at the same time. Thankfully, some of his colleagues are willing to help us out by taking him in or bringing him home a few times. I'm actually glad that he doesn't get to drive Winnie there because I-20 is a place of frequent accidents and a highway accident in her could have been deadly. God knows.

So, so long, Winnie. Thanks for the memories.

Sunday, February 19, 2017

Gaining through losing

Every time I've read Philippians over the last few weeks as we've been studying it at church this passage has stuck out to me. He invites us to count everything as a loss, to let everything else go, to count all I have treasured as trash so that I can know Him more and, in so doing, become more like Him. 

"Surpassing value." I'm not suffering the loss of all things for no reason. I'm invited to do so because gaining Him is worth so much more than anything I could ever give up.

So today, as our pastor read 2:7-14, I raised my hand in surrender with tears running down my cheeks because I do want to know Him. I do want to be dressed in His righteousness that comes through faith, not based on anything I've done. I do want to know the power of His resurrection. I do, though the idea of it sometimes scares me, want to know the fellowship of His suffering because I know He is a faithful Companion in suffering and walking through suffering draws me closer to Him. I do want to forget what lies behind and reach forward to what lies ahead. I do want to press on toward the goal for the prize of His upward call. 

"Why would you want to spend your life on anything less?"

Why indeed.