Faithful (A Guest Post)
I am honored to publish these words here today.
This is Susan’s story. But actually, she wants you to know, this is God’s story.
(Thank you, beautiful Susan, for sharing your heart like this.)
You can find Susan at her blog, Just … a moment. She is a gifted photographer. (Photos here today are Susan’s.)
Be sure to click on the audio recording at the end of the post, where Susan tells her story. (Email subscribers, you may need to click over to Getting Down With Jesus to hear the recording.)
*****
Faithful
by Susan
How I wish that I could you tell you that this is a story of great faith, but it is not. It is, however, a story of great faithfulness. The faithfulness of a great God.
This particular leg of the story began on an August Saturday in Montana’s “Big Sky” country. My husband had recently flown to Texas for Officer’s Training in the Air Force. My brother, my parents, and myself were half-way home from a vacation in Minnesota, headed toward Washington State. They were in the front seat, I rested on the back seat. The year was 1967, and seat belts were still a novelty in all but the newer cars.
Suddenly, in a cacophonous whirlwind of noise and dirt and broken glass, life forever changed. We had been struck almost head-on by a driver passing illegally on a hill. The impact of the collision threw me to the floor, and in that split second, a spinal cord injury left me paralyzed from the chest down.
I was 22.
During the next hour, while we waited for the arrival of the ambulance, a middle-aged couple and their daughter attended to my father who sat in the ditch, dazed from hitting the windshield. They spoke reassuringly to my mother who remained in the front seat with a severely broken arm. They periodically checked with my brother who appeared to be okay, though shaken.
My brother, who is four years older than I am, remained by me. As he brushed broken glass from my face, I told him repeatedly that my legs felt as though they were bent backward. He assured me that was not the case. From his experience as an ambulance driver while in college, he knew what I didn’t.
His quiet words … just pray, Susie. Just pray.
Eventually, I was removed from the back seat into the waiting ambulance. During that transfer, I caught a glimpse of the couple who had stayed with us the entire time and was able to thank them. We never knew their names. I suspect it was “Saint” something.
An hour can be a very long time in the back of an ambulance. The Game Warden, who had heard the crash and presumably was the one who telephoned for help, rode in the back with me. My mother rode in the front. He asked if he could cut away my clothes; he thought it might help me be more comfortable, to breathe easier. I declined. Later, in the Emergency Room, my favorite blue jeans and blouse would be cut away.
It’s true what they say about Emergency Rooms. They asked if I had insurance, what my religious denomination was, how they could contact my husband. I told them that they couldn’t. That he had just enlisted in the AF and he was only to be contacted in case of an emergency. It took them several hours to convince me that it was okay to contact him. That this was a legitimate emergency.
Two days later, on August 28th, we observed our second anniversary in the ICU. I was on a Stryker frame which they turned every two hours. I was either face up, or face down. There had been surgery to fuse the vertebrae in my back with bone taken from my hip. I hurt.
I was also three months pregnant.
When the Doctor came in to deliver the post-surgery news that I would never walk again, I told him that it would be okay, that God would take care of me. My heart knew that God answered prayer; that I would be healed. The tears in his eyes said otherwise.
The days passed. The weeks passed. The months passed. I didn’t understand why my feeling didn’t return. Why the paralysis continued. It wasn’t so much that I believed in healing. It was that I believed in answered prayer. And God always answered prayer. Didn’t He?
The Doctor thought I hadn’t understood what he said when he’d given me the news. I thought he didn’t understand about God, and it was time for me to be “better.”
There was six months worth of days and nights spent waiting. There were blood transfusions. There were tears. The nurses became friends and brought homemade Thanksgiving dinner and later, a Christmas tree which they decorated. The Doctor brought 6 of his 7 children to the room to sing Christmas Carols. The shy orderly brought flowers to keep my spirits up; flowers that had graced the rooms of patients who had died.
Early on a February Sunday morning our son was born. He was beautiful. Perfect in every way. And he was a redhead to boot.
My husband had been given a humanitarian assignment at the Great Falls Air Force Base which meant that he could come for the week-ends, so he was present.
My mother was also with us. She had stayed in Missoula while we waited for the birth. We were several hundred miles from our home in Washington State, and we knew no one.
Four weeks later, my son went home with his father and my mother. I didn’t. I had yet to learn to sit/balance in a wheelchair, how to transfer off and on a bed and into a car, and a myriad other things. Physical therapy would keep me in the hospital for another four weeks.
To say my heart was broken that day would be an understatement. I felt betrayed. By God. He had let me be a mother to a wonderful baby boy, and yet someone else would take him home to care for him. Yes, it was my husband and my mother, and for that I was thankful, but one doesn’t always think coherently when one’s heart is broken.
I was his mother. I longed to be with him. God loved me that day though I wasn’t aware of it.
One month later I did go home. To a home I had not yet seen. To a city we had never lived in until my husband’s assignment there. To a healthy baby boy. To a mother, who with my father’s blessing, had graciously agreed to help care for him, although it meant a lengthy separation for them. And to a life that had to be learned.
We were a bewildered bunch. In the midst of the wilderness. With daily provision. With grace for each day.
You are probably acquainted with the story of the Israelites wandering in the wilderness. The story of how God provided manna, one day at a time. Well, that is how my journey has gone. Manna, for one day at a time.
The Doctor had told me I’d be a bitter old woman before my time if I didn’t live that way; that one-day-at-a-time way. He was right. Forty-four years later he is still right.
My faith has faltered and fallen, bewildered, time after time. My faith knees have been scrapped and bruised. Theologies about this, that, and the other thing have come and gone. My husband is no longer my husband. My son is grown, and he and his family are a blessing always.
This one thing I know. God IS. God WAS. God WILL BE. Always faithful. Always good. Always love. One day at a time.
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Things are going on today that are a huge test of my family and our faith. After reading this I realize that even though we are facing some tough times, there is always someone else facing tougher times. Thank you for this story Susan and Jennifer, makes me look at my life with a little less stress and a lot more thankfulness for what we have.
ditto
You’ve been on my heart throughout the day as I thought of your comment. I hope this test for your family will soon be over and you will have cause for rejoicing.
Both of you … Kathy and Brandee.
Susan,
You are a GIFT. I am deeply honored that you have chosen to share you story in this space. I am moved by your vulnerability and your testimony of God’s faithfulness. And I know that others will be as well.
May each day’s manna satisfy you deeply. May it be an ever-present reminder that God is crazy about you. And Susan, your love for the Father radiates daily through your words and your art. He has given you “good eyes,” …or as Maureen says, “miksang.”
Much, much love to you today.
Susan, I can’t tell you how powerful this is. Your living, breathing, humble testimony of the way he works, even though it’s not the way we often want to see him work. And yet, so often, I think this is exactly the way I want to see him work — faithful in the midst of life gone completely awry.
I see his faithfulness in you. And you draw rare tears from me this morning.
When you first graciously shared your story with me, I was moved then. That you and Jennifer have found a way to share it more widely? I’m just beaming here this morning at the both of you. Thank you for this. More than I can say.
Jennifer is a joy, isn’t she?! As are you.
And yes … His ways are often different than what I had thought.
Still grinning at the thought of your cat incident today … and the wisdom of taking God with you!
And oh, my. Hearing you tell the story in your own beautiful voice?
Susan. Oh, Susan.
Yes! Isn’t that lovely, Lyla? What a gift.
Jennifer, it is a privilege to be here today and share your birthday in this special way. You are a blessing … a sweet encourager! Thank you.
Kathy and Lyla, your words are a gift, more than you can know.
This really hits me, especially the part where the doctor told you the facts and you refused to believe them because God always answered prayer. Sounds exactly like my mother. Faith ended up taking both of you in directions you didn’t want to go.
I often think of John 21 when Jesus told Peter he would be led where he didn’t want to go … right after asking him 3 times, “Do you love me?”
I don’t know how I missed this powerful story last week, but somehow I managed it. Thank you so very much, Susan, for sharing it in this space. And thank you, Jennifer, for inviting her to do so. The verse you quote in this response is the one that I think of so, so often when I watch our mothers (and our fathers before them) struggling through the last stages of life on this earth. My goodness, you got led where you not only didn’t want to go – but had no idea, no inkling that you would be asked to go. For the pain and struggle of the last 44 years, I am truly sorry. But for the beauty of this testimony, I am deeply grateful. Faithfulness does not always look like what we imagine it might, but it is still faithfulness. And God is still God. Much love to you, dear Susan.
You are so right, Susan! Our God is forever faithful and loving…even when our own faith waivers. Thank you for sharing your story of triumph when facing great obstacles! And thank you, Jennifer, for posting this today!
Blessings, Joan
I’ve always been so thankful that He is faithful even when I’m not.
I am so glad that Susan’s voice could carry me through this story. Because I could not see the words through my tears. You bring healing through your brokenness, Susan. I just want to wrap my arms around you and say thank you for showing me Him, for your ever-encouragment, and for this one-day-at-a-time testimony. I so needed this today. xoxo
Your words are precious and my tears are often frequent at the way you share them, too.
Ah, miss Susie, my friend, my sister-in-Christ, I know some of what this took for you to write and share. I reckon you will never know the magnitude of your words and the hearts you’ve touched with this.
You are gifted beyond measure, not only with the camera and ink pen, but with honesty and vulnerability and love.
I know the sound of your voice and yet I cannot listen to this recording yet. I will come back later for that.
And you know, as I am sure most here would agree, I would count it a ginormous blessing to read more. Perhaps in a book format so I could hold it in my hands. Think on that. Please.
You are my “Barnabas,” my encourager. I reckon others need that too.
I love you.
Blessings.
You’ve been a Barnabas to me as well … an excellent example of what it means to be a part of the body of Christ.
Deeply inspirational, Susan. You had shared a tiny bit of your story with me when we did our interview. I did not realize then what an extraordinary story yours is, and to hear it in your own words is a gift.
Your interview was such a gift, Maureen. Your visit here is so appreciated.
Thank you, Susan, for sharing your heart. I’ve enjoyed your blog photography for months now but didn’t know your story. Blessings!
Pictures come more easily than words. Thank you for your visits.
Oh, Susan. I had no idea. Somehow though, I’m not surprised by your story. Deep faith so often comes through deep suffering. Thank you for sharing a part of your journey.
It seems, at times, that suffering either drives a person further from God, or closer to God. I’m thankful He’s kept me close.
I left a message that seems to have somehow disappeared Susan.
Just to tell you how this moves me and to tell you what a huge blessing you are in my life. You minister in ways that you can never know.
I understand this assault on faith, this feeling that somehow He has betrayed us…and then the knowing that no matter what He is faithful and He is good.
Thank you for sharing this Susan.
And then there’s always the guilt that accompanies the feelings that somehow aren’t “right.” We are a wandering bunch at times, aren’t we?!
You are such a gift, Linda.
Susan, I have tears in my eyes and grace in my heart because of your gut wrenching- heart wrenching but achingly beautiful story! I have to say, I long for more… I would dip endlessly back into a book filled with your words that breathe such life and such poignancy and faith- deep and abiding faith. Thank you for sharing with us and uplifting us with your story! Love and blessings to you!
Your journey has been a difficult one and yet your offer such joy in the midst of it all. You are a shining example of letting your light shine in darkness!
So many questions answered. I finally know why you have the wherewithal to love and encourage so many of us with words and lovely pictures. I finally know why you are a ‘noticer’. The fuel for your ‘wherewithal’ is your deep trust and gratitude even during all these years of a ‘new normal’. You just blew me away. So many scriptures of hope flooded over me just now. The promises are true. You are proof that He is faithful. He is. That’s all. Every single one of us reading this needed exactly this story today. I want to kiss you and wrap you up and laugh in celebration of your life. [deep curtsy] Ohhhhh the beauty in brokenness. Paradoxes and oxymoronic joy here. Thank you for gifting us. The story isn’t finished yet……..beloved.
Kathleen … I had the same thoughts. This answers a lot of the why questions.
And yes, this story isn’t finished!
You’re a beauty, Susan! You are dearly loved.
Your words remind me of a giant celebration … of the promise that He dances over us with joy. The ending should be great!
Dearest beautiful Susan. Know how you wrote you didn’t learn that couple’s name but thought it must begin with Saint? That’s you to me. The beauty, purity and grace of saints always resonates when I see your photos and read your words and now — to hear your voice. Angelic and inspiring and humbling and deeply moving.
Thank you beautiful one. You have stirred my spirit and opened my heart.
and Happy Birthday Jennifer — thank you for allowing us to come and visit and be inspired here on your birthday.
Louise, you offer us such insight into the ways of love. Thank you for the blessing of these words.
Susan,
What a gift to read more of your story here.
In this world of keyboards and long distance friendships, it would be easy to hide behind the screen…but not you, my friend, you share and inspire.
I agree with Kathleen, the way that you see blesses us all tremendously and I am so grateful that our Lord caused our paths to cross in this big world.
Oh, yes, the hiding! You’ve been a strong, yet gentle example of the blessing of NOT hiding in the way you share your words and photos.
What a gift to be caught up in the love and encouragement of your comments and to know that His faithfulness has touched your hearts as well.
This is my friend Susan. The woman who takes beautiful pictures. The woman who tells a story that simultaneously brings tears and makes my heart leap for joy. Oh, my goodness, what a humbling privilege it is to read this.
Ah, Glynn … what a source of encouragement you have been as we both started blogging around the same time. It’s an honor to be called your friend.
How did I not know this, Susan!?!?! What a precious and powerful story you’ve shared with us here. You shine like a star, Susan. Thank you so much for writing and speaking from your heart. Love, Patricia
I’m a bit of a lurker at your place, Patricia, and I’ve wondered more than once how you capture such beautiful photos when you find yourself constrained against what you would want.
I LOVE lurkers and I’m so honored that you are one of them, Susan!! And thank you. I’m sure you would agree that our God is the most amazing Creator of all that is beautiful…I just take pictures. And…well…lately, except for my Project 366 (which is not particularly artistic) and family photos, I’ve been posting a lot from my before RA archives. I usually take my cameras with me where ever I go. I never know when God will surprise me with an amazing sunrise, or light sparkling on flowering sugarcane fields – scenes I can capture from sitting in the car. My family doesn’t have much patience with my photo-bug, but if I’m alone and it’s a gorgeous day, I might stop at the park downtown and walk a few feet down to the river. I do have a backyard swing and bird feeders…and if I sit quietly in one place long enough…God is so, so faithful to send something beautiful and open my eyes to the wonder of it all. (It doesn’t hurt that I live in Florida.=)) Much love to you, Susan
Susan I am speechless with wonder at this story, at your faith, at the fact you lived your life as you did. I have always known each time I read your blog that you are a special person, with a special gift for making a moment that touches my heart, with words or photos. God gave you a gift, a wonderful gift of writing, photography and of touching others lives. thanks for letting us hear your voice.
I appreciate your taking the time to come this way today, Sandra. Your photos and sense of humor have brightened many of my days.
Oh Susan,
You are such a Proverbs 31:30-31 woman. Your story is so touching.
You must take comfort in that in time you will have a fully restored body because you know the Good Shepherd and the Good Shepherd knows his sheep.
I love your photography and your words of wisdom.
In Christ’s Love, Ramona
I do look forward to that restored body, although I cherish each moment of the life I’ve been given. Life is such a gift, perhaps made sweeter because of the knowledge it could easily not have been. Thank you for your words of kindness.
I did not know your story Susan. I like your blog, photos, and talent.
Your story is so touching, Yes God is faithful
I know that you’ve experienced firsthand that same faithfulness, and I pray you will have many good days.
Jennifer, happy birthday to you. Susan, what a blessing your story of faith and encouragement is. Thank you for sharing here. May God continue to bless you.
Mildred, I pray that you and your husband will know that same reassurance each and every day. Thank you for visiting here today and remembering Jennifer as she shares her special day with us.
thank you for sharing, susan.
you have an absolutely beautiful voice.
“This one thing I know. God IS. God WAS. God WILL BE. Always faithful. Always good. Always love. One day at a time.”
You said a lot right there…
You are proof that many words are not always necessary to convey great wealth.
Thank you, Nance, for the way you bless us in so many creative ways.
Susan, your story is beautiful. Thank you for sharing and blessing all of us with a reminder God’s perfect love.
“And God moves my fingers across the clicking keys…” and you place them well. {made a quick trip to your blog … blessings as you dream}
Oh my, big tears for me. Because our stories don’t always wrap up with a pretty bow but they do reveal God’s grace and redemption. He is faithful, even in our suffering and pain. Powerful story!
Thank you, Shelley, for the reminder that it’s what inside the package that counts. There are times when it would be fun to have a lavish bow though! Perhaps that is the grace of it all.
Oh my. That you would allow us to see, hear and know your story… as the master gently places your puzzle pieces into place so that we can see, hear and know more of him and his greater story. It is a privilege to be here tonight and hold these truths of yours gently, tenderly with care and respect.
Every time I have ever expressed sadness, pain or grief… you have always understood it and I knew you did… just not the “why” behind it. You have reminded me tonight of my life verse Luke 22:31 (which I have always placed my own name into)… Susan, Susan, satan demanded permission to sift you like wheat, but Jesus himself prays for you, so that your faith will not fail and once you have turned, you will strengthen your sisters…. like right now with your story and with every photograph, every scripture, every quote of truth.
Can I just say… I love you and am sending you a hug. God is so good.
Oh! I forgot to say… and that you would use your monarchs at the end of the story… (which really isn’t the end of the story, I know!) but, really Susan… that just did me in. =)
And this brought tears to my eyes. Thank you, Pat, for your ministry of compassion. And your beautiful voice that ministers in the odd hours when we need it.
I am touched again by your life story Susan, and it’s a blessing again. And even more so to hear your sweet voice. God is good, all the time – what a testimony you are to His faithfulness! Thank you for being a faithful encourager, always 🙂
You have blessed me as well, Claudia, with your attention to detail and your gifts in the mail.
Oh. Oh. Oh.
Susan, this story. It is so beautiful. You shine right through this tale. I don’t have words.
Those situations–grave situations–where one must let things unfold, day by day, and wait. They can render amazing beauty.
Like you.
And Jennifer, who brought you here today.
And yet it can be so difficult this day-by-day living. So often I have wanted to see the road ahead although I can honestly say it’s just as well I haven’t.
Thank you for the words you have shared.
Oh…my…gosh! Words fail me. My heart is overwhelmed with your precious and touching story. Thank you, Susan and Jennifer. May the Lord bless you both!
He has indeed blessed us in so many ways … and your comment is one of them. Thank you.
Your story of faithfulness dissolves that hard, slow-growing layer of film over my eyes. Until I see a choice again.
We can choose to look at one day at a time, can’t we? Susan, thank you so much for this voice, your voice, and all your work.
I made a little trip to your blog, Matthew. and saw this:
“It’s time to pull this prayer back a little farther.
And aim. Because that boy’s feather just won’t do.”
Aiming, choosing … so important those little daily decisions we make.
Thank you for your comment here.
Through clenched teeth I have quoted Job, “Even though He slay me, yet will I serve Him.” I hate for others (or myself) to suffer – but from that place, life in Him is so precious. Thank you for sharing, beautiful perspective.
The beautiful part is that He won’t slay us, will He? He’s always with us … always.
Susan, I had no idea. Thank you, Jennifer, for inviting Susan here. Susan, you bear witness well to God’s abundant goodness. May your words be multiplied to bless many.
Thank you, Nancy, for blessing these words, and for your visit.
Susan,
Your story is amazing and humbles me. You are amazing! I do thank you for sharing. Your commitment and faith are an inspiration to me. Blessings to you.
xo~ Anna
We have an amazing God, don’t we?! Glad you were able to visit here.
i loved hearing your sweet and gentle voice as you told your story… read parts of it through tears, of empathy and understanding.
I imagine you know elements of this story well, Leslie. Praying for you.
Thank you for telling your story. One day at a time….that’s what the Hospice nurse would always say about my son. I got tired of hearing it, but it is still true.
Karen, it is nice to meet you here. Words do grow tiresome, no matter how true or well intended, when we are hoping for a different outcome.
I can’t say anything that hasn’t already been said, but thanks for sharing your story.
My friend Sandra sent me here – what an inspiring story – one of the most I have ever read. sandie
Thank you, Sandie, for taking time to come by and comment.
Your story gives deeper meaning to the prayer, “Not my will but thine be done, O Lord.” My husband use to tell our congregation that God always answers prayer; he just doesn’t necessarily answer it the way we might wish. It isn’t always easy to accept that.
Thank you so much for sharing your story, Susan, and thanks to Jennifer for making it possible here. Blessings to you both!
Appreciate your comment, Carol. Praying His word is of great importance.
Thank you for stopping by, Harriett, and leaving your comment.
Susan – I was prepared to cry, waiting for the right moment to read, even though I mostly knew.
But you know? I’m beaming.
Your heart shone through with such radiance that you bless even while.. again and again.
love to you
God’s faithfulness is a cause for joy, isn’t it? Thanks for dropping by, Deb.
I did not know this story, Susan. Thank you so much for sharing it here. And thank you for sharing your photos and words with the world. It’s a gift and privilege to see through your eyes.
Love to you.
I’ve been one of those “lurkers” at your place too, Jeanne. Your photos and words are always an inspiration.
He is ffaithful, even in unanswered prayer. Thank you for sharing your gifts and wisdom here. I am so encouraged by your story. Hugs dear one!
Hi. I usually do not have/take the time to read all of the posts overflowing in my mailbox; today I did. My heart is full. I know your sorrows. And your heartache. Though dissimilar in subject matter,. I do share this knowledge with you: God is GOOD. All of the time. THAT knowledge anchors me through the storms.
Oh, Susan. Reading this amazing story again brings me to tears. Thank you both – Jen and Susan – for telling it in this good space.