Forgetting What Lies Behind

Forgetting is easier now than ever as aging kicks in, and I forget what I did yesterday. However, when I clean out a closet or go through attic boxes or the garage cupboards, I'm sure to find some long-forgotten “treasure” that will swoosh me back to a moment that evokes pleasant (or maybe not so pleasant) memories.

A few years ago, my husband was rummaging through old boxes when he found a childhood relic I’d held onto for 70 years—a hobby horse I’d won as a five-year-old in an art contest on Angel Casey’s Playhouse. Encouraged by my mother, I had entered a Crayola drawing, and to our delight, I won the grand prize. It is the only art award I have ever received.

Over time, the hobby horse traveled with me from state to state, eventually forgotten in storage. Wanting to surprise me, my husband tried to reassemble it—but to his shock, I no longer wanted it. I tossed the old, rusty pieces into the fire. A wave of nostalgia came and went, but I had no regrets. The memory, and the original drawing tucked away in my cedar chest, were more than enough.

Honestly, letting go of the hobby horse was a loss with a little “l.” But how do we handle the losses with a big “L”? In 1997, I lost my husband to a sudden heart attack. My world changed in a matter of minutes.  As a believer, I was grateful to know he was in heaven with the Lord, but at the same time, I keenly felt the loneliness and singleness of my new life. My friends, family, and church provided tremendous emotional and spiritual support, and I began to understand firsthand what Galatians 6:2 means: to have others carry my burdens. However, at the age of 47, I was reluctant to surrender my singleness to the Lord, fearing he might accept it.  No, I didn’t want to live the rest of my life without a partner to share it with, so I tightly held onto the dream of one day being married again.
 
I relate to Corrie ten Boom, who, speaking from the experience of a lifetime of loss, reminds us to “Hold everything in your hands lightly, otherwise it hurts when God pries your fingers open.”

Paul's words in Philippians 3:13-14 resonate deeply with me. After forgetting what lies behind, we must strain towards what is ahead.  But what is worth more than all those remarkable accomplishments? What can take the place of prizes, titles, awards, and degrees? Or on a much deeper level, what can take the place of the companionship of a spouse?

Paul tells us in Philippians 3:8—the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus as Lord.  The loss of my husband propelled me into the deepest relationship with the Lord that I had ever experienced. He was my everything. After three years, I realized that my relationship with him could sustain me, and I was able to relinquish my desire for marriage. I also became more keenly aware of many others who needed understanding and support through different types of loss.* Six years later, a wonderful Christian man came into my life, and we have now been married for twenty years. Throughout that time, God has provided multiple opportunities in different countries to share my faith journey through loss.  It’s not about completely forgetting my past but using it to encourage others who have experienced loss.

The same year I labored over that award-winning picture was also the year I invited Jesus into my heart as Savior and Lord. I have had the privilege of knowing him for 70 years now. Just as Paul confessed, I can’t say I’ve arrived or never wrestled with a desire for material possessions or personal achievement.  However, I am learning to understand better the eternal rewards of knowing Christ more intimately as I study his word and serve him in the new ministry that he has called me to. These things speak to his heart, bring satisfaction and joy, and cannot be destroyed or consumed. They are the “treasure in the heavens that does not fail, where no thief approaches and no moth destroys. For where [my] treasure is, there will [my] heart be also” (Luke 12:33b-34 ESV).

Where does your stroll down memory lane take you?  Although it is good to know where we’ve been and what we’ve experienced, it’s better—even heavenly—to reach forward to what’s ahead.

*Gerald Sittser’s book, A Grace Disguised: How the Soul Grows Through Loss, provided a significant foundation for understanding the tension between our spiritual knowledge and our emotional experience.

Over the years, strong Biblical teaching and ministry opportunities, both in the US and overseas, have allowed Nancy to see the Lord at work in the lives of women of diverse backgrounds.

In 2017, God put it on Nancy's heart to form the Olympic Peninsula Women's Fellowship, a non-profit organization with the vision of unifying and encouraging women in Christ at an annual Inspirational Weekend. As many as 600 women from 70 different churches across the Olympic Peninsula have gathered to fellowship and listen to a speaker share God’s word.  

Nancy and her husband Allan retired to Port Townsend, Washington, and love visits from their five children and 11 grands.

A recent attendee of NEWIM’s Springs Retreat in Three Rivers, California, Nancy was encouraged by the opportunity to connect with other women in ministry and share their vision to deepen their walk with Christ. 

You may contact Nancy by email at opwfellowship@gmail.com.

My Story of the Wilderness

It all started on a Thursday in August. I woke up during the night in severe pain. Even the smallest movement caused shooting pain through my core. The pain was so bad I almost cried.

For almost three weeks, I struggled to feel better, wondering if pruning trees for a few hours had caused such a problem. I sat most of the time because I experienced excruciating pain in my ribs when I moved. To exacerbate my misery, I caught a bug that added chills, fever, and nausea to the mix. I kept hoping I could kick whatever caused my symptoms. 

When my breathing became labored, my husband urged me to go to the ER. Tests revealed fluid in my lungs and shadows of fluid in my heart.  I’ve had pneumonia before, but not with such deep pain that rippled through my entire body every time I moved. I felt weak and disoriented.

The medical staff started IV medication which brought up fears within me because many nurses have had trouble inserting IV’s into my veins. I also had a couple of A-fib incidents—I’ve never had heart issues in my life, and this of course caused more fear as a cardiologist joined my medical team.  
In the whirlwind of circumstances, I felt like my body was out of control. I was scared.

But do you want to know the hardest part? Waking in the night, hearing machines pumping medication into my body, feeling very alone in the dark, and wondering, “Where is God?”

I started to cry and then just sobbed.

As my sobbing subsided and I lay alone in the little room, I felt depleted and empty. Then a phrase from Psalm 139 entered my mind like a clock ticking with familiar chimes: “Where can I go from your Spirit?”

My heart quieted.

I felt the presence of God begin to seep into my soul. Feeling unable to do anything, no journaling, no planning, no writing notes or working, no reading, no specific praying—I just sat in the presence of God and felt his love envelop me.  

When I was feeling better a few weeks later, I had time to ponder what happened and wrote in my journal:

“Lord, my plans sure went awry! I had very different plans for the end of summertime. I was surprised—you weren’t! I feel like you looked ahead and cried—knowing I was moving into a time of great pain, confusion, and fear. But also inviting me to experience more deeply your presence and love.”

Through this experience, I know deep within my soul that God doesn’t abandon me when I’m distracted, overwhelmed by feelings, unable to think clearly, or even reach out to him. The Lord showed me that even when I can’t call out to him, he is there.

Where can I go from your Spirit?
    Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
    if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
 If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
    if I settle on the far side of the sea,
 even there your hand will guide me,
    your right hand will hold me fast.
 If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me
    and the light become night around me,”
 even the darkness will not be dark to you;
    the night will shine like the day,
    for darkness is as light to you (Psalm 139-7:12).

God used Scripture hidden in my heart to remind me of the truth and release me from fear: God has me. God helps me. God loves me. It’s all about grace.

Julie is the Executive Director of The Unfolding Soul; a ministry serving those who yearn for a more life-giving connection with God. TUS offers spiritual direction, leadership coaching, speaking, and an eLetter that helps people discover God’s treasure in all aspects of daily life. 

Julie is an ordained minister, with an M.A. in Ministry & Leadership and a Spiritual Direction & Formation certificate. She enjoys time with family, reading, outdoor activity…and a good cup of tea. 

Early on in ministry she connected with NEWIM, which exposed her to deeper understanding of walking with Jesus and leadership skills, which continue to influence her life and ministry today.

website - www.theunfoldingsoul.org

my ministry email: julie@theunfoldingsoul.org

Going Door to Door Singing Love Songs

My hospice patient’s husband passed some years ago. They didn’t have children. Her niece visited over the holidays. When we opened the Bible, she directed me to read the 23rd Psalm. She said it gave her the sense that God protected her. 

She didn’t want to hear me play my violin, but when I offered to sing for her, she agreed. I pulled out the “Fifty Most Beloved Movie Hits” book and started singing some of the songs I recognized. It felt a little strange to be singing love songs to this elderly widow who honestly hasn’t always been that friendly or receptive to chaplain visits. So, after three songs, I offered to leave. 

Somehow, I got the sense that she didn’t want me to go. It was the briefest little pause she made right before she said, “It’s okay, you can go.” That bit of hesitancy gave me pause, so without saying a word, I flipped to the next page and started singing the next love song. 

Suddenly, I felt overcome with a surge of compassion for her. But it was more than that. I felt like something deep within me was tapped–-the sadness over a world that isn’t right, where I can start the year on a good foot, but around me there is anxiety about the new national leadership, devastation and despair caused by the fires in the Los Angeles area, and multiple sets of friends who have been unable to conceive. 

I started tearing up as I sang the Titanic theme song, then the song from Breakfast at Tiffany’s, and Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen. Something within me broke, but not in a bad way. I just felt the power of what I was doing, even as I felt its inadequacy. I am a hospice chaplain who goes door to door, singing love songs to lonely older folk who deserve to come to the end of their lives feeling loved. 

My patient fell asleep beside me with cold ankles and cold hands. I had wrapped the blanket around her. Her body told me she was more than just a little cold. I seriously wondered if I would get to see her next month. I might not. She was frailer now, her face looked gaunter.

There is mystery in this work and profound wonder. I cannot tell you how often I wake up in the morning excited to start my day. My prayer is that as you read about my patients, you can lift them up to the Father with me. Many are going home to his embrace. It's a gift to walk with them as they prepare.

Tina grew up on Long Island, New York, in an intergenerational home of ethnically Chinese parents raised in Taiwan. After studying English literature at Harvard College, she went on staff with InterVarsity Christian Fellowship and served the multi-ethnic chapter for 6 years. In this capacity, she also ministered to the broader community as one of the Harvard Chaplains.

Over the course of 12 years of local church ministry in the Bay Area, she ministered in a variety of ways as she completed her Master of Divinity at Fuller Theological Seminary. She has served as a pastor overseeing life groups, outreach, and discipleship.  She has also had significant seasons serving as an interim pastor in various contexts.  

As a wife and involved mother of three elementary-aged children, she is now focusing on the ministry of spiritual direction and serving the broader community as a chaplain. She loves to write, play volleyball, and puzzle with friends. She has benefitted greatly from several NEWIM retreats during her years of service.

Connect with her at christinetenghenson@gmail.com.