Physically, I haven’t felt like myself for the last couple of months. That old familiar enemy, asthma, had reared its ugly head again and was making every activity I tried so much more difficult than it should have been. Last week, after some long nights that I spent hooked up to a breathing machine and still couldn’t breathe properly, I went to our local clinic and was diagnosed with pneumonia. I was given steroids, but they didn’t work, so I dragged myself back to the clinic the next day and was given an antibiotic. Later that night, I began to feel like I was suffocating—I couldn’t take in any air, and was having tremendous pain when I tried. I still wasn’t truly worried until Seamus jumped into my lap—and I didn’t recognize him. I knew he was one of our cats, but I didn’t know who he was. I couldn’t seem to form any coherent thoughts. The one lucid thought I had was that something was really wrong this time.
Monty and I, prodded by my parents who’d gotten some strange, irrational texts from me that I don’t remember sending, knew I needed to get to my doctor. Unfortunately, he’s two and a half hours away; when Monty and I moved here, we chose to keep the doctor we had in the city. Monty and I knew it would be dangerous to travel that distance without my breathing machine. So Monty rigged up the machine with an adaptor to plug into the cigarette lighter. And, armed with about seven inhalers, we made it to my doctor. He listened to my heart and lungs for quite a while. I’ve become somewhat adept at reading doctors’ faces, and what I saw on his face scared me. He said it was definitely pneumonia, and that the one lung he could hear well was filled with fluid. He sent me to the ER to get an EKG and a CT scan. Sitting back in that CT scan room, waiting for the contrast dye to make its way through my system, I broke down and cried—well, I actually kind of just whimpered since I didn’t have the lung power to cry. I begged God for normal results and reminded Him, in case He’d forgotten, that I was not strong enough for this. And I heard, almost audibly, “You don’t have to be. I am.”
I’ve been listening to a song all week called “Oh, My Soul” by Casting Crowns. There’s a line in it that says, “There’s a place where fear has to meet the God you know.” As I prayed in that room, I knew that this was going to be one of those times when my fear met my God. I was alone in the room; Monty couldn’t be with me, as much as he wanted to be. It was just me, God, and my fear. And when I thought back to all the ERs in the past, and all of the situations that God had saved me from, there was no contest. God won.
Peace settled over me—even when we found out that the tests had come back clear for blood clots but indicated that many of the air sacs on my lungs were either so scarred that they weren’t working or were dead tissue. When I finish this next few weeks of antibiotics and steroids, I’ll have to see a pulmonary specialist. And I’m guessing that that there will probably be many more moments along that journey when my fear and my God will meet again.
I don’t write this for pity. And I’m aware as I write it that there is tremendous suffering all over the world tonight—death, grief, pain—all of which make my story pale in comparison. I’m writing this because today is Good Friday. And I’ve needed the reminder all week long to change my focus from my circumstances to my Savior. My Savior did not die on that cross so that I would spend my days in fear. He died to set me free. In the gospel of John, it is recorded that as Christ hung on the cross, He uttered the word “tetelestai,” bowed His head, and died. Literally translated, the Greek word “tetelestai” means “It is finished.” And at the time of Jesus’ death, bills and debts were marked “tetelestai,” meaning “Paid in full.” My debts, my sins: paid in full. Every step I take and every decision I make should be in the shadow of the cross, otherwise I render the cross ineffective. And though I feel tonight like I will have to mentally crawl to the foot of the cross, inch by exhausted inch, to look up at it and remind myself what it means, I will crawl.
In the Shadow of the Cross
– Isaac Watts with Renee Adele Phillips
When I survey the wondrous cross
I look up at this symbol of such incomprehensible love
On which the Prince of glory died,
and I see Your blood and my tears mingle in a portrait of grace.
My richest gain I count but loss,
You could have let that cup pass from You
And pour contempt on all my pride.
but instead, my God, my God, You chose to die for me.
Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,
I want every word I utter to bring others to You,
Save in the death of Christ my God!
for there is no greater demonstration of Your love than Your death.
All the vain things that charm me most,
The trivialities that tempt me away from You; the addictions I’ve craved—
I sacrifice them to His blood.
I leave them here at the cross. And rejoice: For It. Is. Finished.
See from His head, His hands, His feet,
I can barely stomach the idea of it—
Sorrow and love flow mingled down!
How You suffered—Your very breath gone, too.
Did e’er such love and sorrow meet,
In that divine paradox of love and agony,
Or thorns compose so rich a crown?
Of a man who was King—You bore what I could not.
Were the whole realm of nature mine,
Grace asks for no sacrifice from me—
That were an offering far too small;
Nothing. Yet my debt has been paid—in full.
Love so amazing, so divine,
Overwhelmed by Your love and freed by Your grace—
Demands my soul, my life, my all.
You drank of that cup for me; I will pour it all out for You.
“Love. How did one show it? How could God Himself show truth and love at the same time in a world like this? By dying. The answer stood out for me sharper and chillier than it ever had before that night: the shape of a cross etched on the history of the world.” Corrie ten Boom
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Comments 14
Dearest Renee, was not sure what to write back on this blog until I was reminded of a little cross I made with words. It was to have hung in the church, along with hundred’s of other ones that members and children made. I took an empty one home to do, but because I had the babies here I could not attend church that Sunday and when I brought it in this last Sunday, the crosses were already up, so I took mine home again.
I used some words from the songsheets from one of the Sunday’s services. I collaged a background of darker shades from the bottom to lighter golden cloud like on the top.
From the top going down I chose these words—
Saviour
I come,
quiet my soul,
Lead me to the cross,
Redemtion’s hill, where Your blood was spilled
For my ransom.
Lead me
Bring me
Lay me down
Mold me
For Yourself
I belong to You
Jesus.
Today Is Good Friday and we celebrate what He did, for you, for me and for the whole world.
May His healing hands be upon you as the great Jehovah Rapha. May His love shine brighter and stronger every minute of every hour , of every day in your life right now and may He continue to give you peace as you hold onto Him.
Oh, Klara, that’s just beautiful. I’d love to see it as a collage. I have felt the healing of Jehovah Rapha in mighty ways this week. Thank you for the beautiful benediction you wrote at the end of your comment. I’ll be reading it again and again. Love to you, dear friend.
I think that after Easter, I should make you a collage of sorts. I will be doing one for Aasta’s best friends Shabi, who is my third daughter? She asked me to make something from me to her, so we decided on a collage. I do them on a hard canvass, she will pick it up when she is next in Vancouver, she lives in Toronto for now. Yours would have to be possibly on card stock, a small one, to big and expensive to send otherwise? Let me think about it.
Oh, Klara, that would be so lovely! Big, small, card stock–whatever–I would treasure it. And we could cover any shipping costs. You’ve made me very happy today!
Okay, I can make you a big one and find out about costs, you would need to frame it, I just framed 2 I want to keep. I love doing them and they quiet my soul when in need. I often take song sheets home in the large print that are left over, just so I can use some of the words, sentences and so on. Mind you, I use all kinds of words from magazines and so on too. Shabi is Muslim and her boyfriend Christian so it will be interesting what I may come up with– it maybe just about love of others and ourselves. Want to find some magazines that feature black people as her friend is Jamaican ? A mix of cultures that describe love as a medium of ” All things possible”.
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Oh, I’m so excited! I can’t wait to see what you make. What a treasure!
Praying you continue to rest in the unending depth His grace, heal through the power of faith and proclaim, even as you still have many quiet days to rest. I am so sorry you have to face this trial now. Your name gets laid on my heart often and I want you to know my prayers humbly form each time for you, my precious friend!
Thank you so much, dear Danine. I am resting and healing, and I am absolutely positive that much of that healing is because of prayers like yours. Thank you for that–so very much.
Renee, another powerful, from the depths of your heart, Blog. Been praying, everyday for you, Monty, your family. Good Friday, a sad ,but Joyous day. The day our Lord, Washed our sins away. Oh Happy Day. The obstacles you are facing, and have faced, Little Soarrow, are gigantic. But, you, others, when they realize Jesus on the Cross, “forgivethem,for they know not what they do”. Wow! Jesus did not seek revenge, he took on all our sins. Renee, You will be victorious in your fight against Pneumonia, and pulmonary issues, I have no doubt at all. All of our suffering, grief , and pain are goneYou, we are saved. Be of my friends, Gladys, in her 90’s, related to our Bible study, that couple of nights ago, she had a vivid dream of Jesus. She envisioned his “worn out,leathery skinned body”, hanging on the Cross, itdud not scare her. But, then she saw Jesus “beautiful eyes”, and Jesus whispered ,”welcome”, to her. Gladys say she is not afraid, she will be “ready”, to meet Jesus. Praise Jesus name. We need to remember what Jesus said,”fear not I am with you. I am finished”. Poweful. “Oh Happy Day, when Jesus washed my sins away”. God Bless and keep you, Renee. Thank you for letting me read this wonderful Blog, and expressing my heartfelt words.
Thank you so much, Harold. I know you’ve been praying, and Monty and I both appreciate it. I love your story about Gladys and her dream of Jesus. What a beautiful dream, especially the part where she looked in His eyes and He said, “Welcome.” That just brings tears to my eyes. I so appreciate you taking the time to read my words and then expressing your own. Your little sparrow will soon be flying high again.
Wow! So sorry you’ve not been well. Thank you once again for the reminder. Love you!
Lora, I am determined to beat this–soon! Thank you for blessing me with your words this morning. Love you, too.
Renee,
Believe it or not I have had asthma since I was about 4 years old. How coincidental is that.
I couldn’t count the times I drove myself to ER to get an epinephrine shot . Wait 20 minutes then drive myself home.
I have a respiratory therapy machine. Rarely use it. Take weekly allergy shots and a hand full of inhalers and sinus sprays and rinses daily.
I have several epipens but have long since overcome the situation.
My point for you is the main point of this disease. REMAIN CALM NO MATTER WHAT!!!! I emphasize that only to drill it into your subconscious.
You can survive on slow shallow breaths. Your O2 level will hit the low 80s but you’ll be conscious. Help is always good but .. AND HERE’S THE BIGGIE..if you panic you make it worse.
You can and will survive this. I have for 60 years since it hit me at 4.
Breath low slow and regular. Don’t upset your heart because you can and will survive!!
Then go get allergy tested!??
Heads up. You’re going to live.
I did ???
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Steve–you certainly did live. Yes, panic is the enemy of asthma. And usually, I don’t–like you, I’ve had it so long that I’ve learned to cope. This was just very different. But you’re right; I can and will survive this. “Fear feeds the asthma.”–great reminder. Thanks for your insights yet again.