We started our the day yesterday with a 7am liver biopsy at CMC. Followed by waiting in the recovery area until 1pm. Have you ever been given medicine to relax you, told to lie as still as possible (to prevent bleeding from the procedure) then try to read a book. Well let's just say I took a very long time trying to read the same paragraph over and over suspended in 317 BC wondering around Palestine.
Our coordinator called later that afternoon with the results from pathologist report. The test showed all of my organ rejection was gone. This was a blessing beyond what we had even contemplated. I was just expecting to find the reason my liver enzymes were elevated so we could treat it. Praise God for his healing hand. They feel that a blood pressure medicine was the cause for my elevated levels. Today I have started a new medicine which should work better with my system.
Thank you for your prayers and words of encouragement, Joseph
4.21.2004
4.19.2004
Still Wondering
Friends,
We spent a good chunk of our morning reading, pacing, and nodding off while we waited for our lab work to come back! We have got dots all over the page, and no logical way to connect them!!! Oh well! There is just no rhyme or reason to the stats on that page! Some numbers are up...some are down. Things are not making a whole lot of sense right about now. So...we're back to CMC at 7 in the morning for the second biopsy. (By the time the results came back it was too late to schedule for today.)
The procedure and recovery time are going to be a good 5 hours. They want to get this thing figured out, but have no plans to keep us.
Thank you so much for your faithfulness to hold us up in prayer! You just do not know how much this means to our family!
"Great is Thy faithfulness,
O, God my Father!
There is no shadow of turning with Thee.
Thou changest not.
Thy compassions, they fail not.
As Thou hast been,
Thou forever wilt be.
Great is Thy faithfulness.
Great is Thy faithfulness.
Morning by morning, new mercies I see.
All I have needed thy hand hath provided.
Great is Thy faithfulness,
Lord unto me."
With much love from the Shore family.
We spent a good chunk of our morning reading, pacing, and nodding off while we waited for our lab work to come back! We have got dots all over the page, and no logical way to connect them!!! Oh well! There is just no rhyme or reason to the stats on that page! Some numbers are up...some are down. Things are not making a whole lot of sense right about now. So...we're back to CMC at 7 in the morning for the second biopsy. (By the time the results came back it was too late to schedule for today.)
The procedure and recovery time are going to be a good 5 hours. They want to get this thing figured out, but have no plans to keep us.
Thank you so much for your faithfulness to hold us up in prayer! You just do not know how much this means to our family!
O, God my Father!
There is no shadow of turning with Thee.
Thou changest not.
Thy compassions, they fail not.
As Thou hast been,
Thou forever wilt be.
Great is Thy faithfulness.
Great is Thy faithfulness.
Morning by morning, new mercies I see.
All I have needed thy hand hath provided.
Great is Thy faithfulness,
Lord unto me."
With much love from the Shore family.
4.17.2004
Looking to a New Week
Friends,
Monday morning we plan to be at CMC bright and early for our regular labs, clinic, and physical therapy--all beginning at 7:00 a.m. But with a slight twist we wish you'd pray about with us! Once the usual amount of blood is drawn, the samples are going to be hand delivered to the lab,and the results immediately sent back to the transplant people. We are to be prepared to stay on at the hospital for a second biopsy if Joe's liver numbers are not coming down. Thanks for your love and prayers as you walk this journey with us! Have a blessed Lord's day and coming week!
Love from the Shore family
Monday morning we plan to be at CMC bright and early for our regular labs, clinic, and physical therapy--all beginning at 7:00 a.m. But with a slight twist we wish you'd pray about with us! Once the usual amount of blood is drawn, the samples are going to be hand delivered to the lab,and the results immediately sent back to the transplant people. We are to be prepared to stay on at the hospital for a second biopsy if Joe's liver numbers are not coming down. Thanks for your love and prayers as you walk this journey with us! Have a blessed Lord's day and coming week!
Love from the Shore family
4.14.2004
Update from Mom
Dear praying friends,
Thanks so much for all the love and prayers that have been directed Heaven-ward and our way as well! God's grace in timing and provision just continue to astonish us at every turn. God is good--all the time! Last Monday our lab tests turned out great, and as a result, one of our medications (an immunosuppresant) was dropped. By last Thursday, however, some very important liver numbers were obviously on the rise. We hadn't been home from that morning of labs and physical therapy for more than an hour, when our transplant coordinator called and asked us to return to the hospital immediately. We hustled everyone back into the van and hit the road for a return trip to Charlotte. The children and I got real creative with activities to while away the five or so hours that it took for the team to perform an ultrasound/liver biopsy procedure on Joe. We all returned home later that night thankful for God's safe-keeping through one very topsy-turvy day. (No one had to sing a one of us to sleep that night!) Our coordinator called back on Friday to let us know that the biopsy had revealed some mild rejection going on. Our main anti-rejection medication was increased, and we had went on to have a very quiet, relaxing Easter. We were back to CMC on Monday morning for another round of labs, transplant clinic and physical therapy. We made it as far north from Charlotte as Concord when our transplant coordinator called on the cell phone. Yeah, you guessed it. We had to turn around and head back to the hospital! Our numbers had jumped from 30 to 69 and 37 to 85 last week, and had risen to 155 and 279 by Monday. We checked in at the outpatient infusion clinic in CMC's cancer clinic for a round of heavy-duty IV steroids. Hopefully, that treatment will stop the rejection process. Some amount of rejection is a very common thing. Sort of goes with the territory, I suppose. But it doesn't make it any less unnerving when you go head-to-head with it! The treatment does have Joe's body a little "out of whack", and we have spent the rest of Monday and today giving our Accucheck , syringes, and insulin a pretty good workout. Please pray with us that this won't be a permanent thing. We would rather not add diabetes to our long list on this very interesting journey, but God knows what is best, and will do what is best for us--every step of the way. We go back to Charlotte for labs on Thursday morning. Thanks ever so much for your continued prayers. Your love, prayers, and encouragement mean the world to us!
"All the way my Savior leads me; what have I to ask beside?
Can I doubt His tender mercy, Who through life has been my guide?
Heav'nly peace, divinest comfort, here by faith in Him to dwell;
For I know what-e'er befall me, Jesus doeth all things well.
"All the way my Savior leads me, cheers each winding path I tread,
Gives me grace for every trial, feeds me with the living bread.
Though my weary steps may falter, and my soul a-thirst may be,
Gushing from the rock before me, lo, a spring of joy I see.
"All the way my Savior leads me- Oh the fulness of His love!
Perfect rest to me is promised in my Father's house above:
When my spirit, clothed, immortal, wings its flight to realms of day,
This my song through endless ages: Jesus led me all the way."
Much love from the Shore family
Thanks so much for all the love and prayers that have been directed Heaven-ward and our way as well! God's grace in timing and provision just continue to astonish us at every turn. God is good--all the time! Last Monday our lab tests turned out great, and as a result, one of our medications (an immunosuppresant) was dropped. By last Thursday, however, some very important liver numbers were obviously on the rise. We hadn't been home from that morning of labs and physical therapy for more than an hour, when our transplant coordinator called and asked us to return to the hospital immediately. We hustled everyone back into the van and hit the road for a return trip to Charlotte. The children and I got real creative with activities to while away the five or so hours that it took for the team to perform an ultrasound/liver biopsy procedure on Joe. We all returned home later that night thankful for God's safe-keeping through one very topsy-turvy day. (No one had to sing a one of us to sleep that night!) Our coordinator called back on Friday to let us know that the biopsy had revealed some mild rejection going on. Our main anti-rejection medication was increased, and we had went on to have a very quiet, relaxing Easter. We were back to CMC on Monday morning for another round of labs, transplant clinic and physical therapy. We made it as far north from Charlotte as Concord when our transplant coordinator called on the cell phone. Yeah, you guessed it. We had to turn around and head back to the hospital! Our numbers had jumped from 30 to 69 and 37 to 85 last week, and had risen to 155 and 279 by Monday. We checked in at the outpatient infusion clinic in CMC's cancer clinic for a round of heavy-duty IV steroids. Hopefully, that treatment will stop the rejection process. Some amount of rejection is a very common thing. Sort of goes with the territory, I suppose. But it doesn't make it any less unnerving when you go head-to-head with it! The treatment does have Joe's body a little "out of whack", and we have spent the rest of Monday and today giving our Accucheck , syringes, and insulin a pretty good workout. Please pray with us that this won't be a permanent thing. We would rather not add diabetes to our long list on this very interesting journey, but God knows what is best, and will do what is best for us--every step of the way. We go back to Charlotte for labs on Thursday morning. Thanks ever so much for your continued prayers. Your love, prayers, and encouragement mean the world to us!
Can I doubt His tender mercy, Who through life has been my guide?
Heav'nly peace, divinest comfort, here by faith in Him to dwell;
For I know what-e'er befall me, Jesus doeth all things well.
"All the way my Savior leads me, cheers each winding path I tread,
Gives me grace for every trial, feeds me with the living bread.
Though my weary steps may falter, and my soul a-thirst may be,
Gushing from the rock before me, lo, a spring of joy I see.
"All the way my Savior leads me- Oh the fulness of His love!
Perfect rest to me is promised in my Father's house above:
When my spirit, clothed, immortal, wings its flight to realms of day,
This my song through endless ages: Jesus led me all the way."
Much love from the Shore family
4.08.2004
Children of Prayer
A friend of my parents recently sent us an e-mail telling about how her son has been so constantly in prayer for my Dad these last couple of years. They shared how the Wednesday before Dad had his transplant their son had gotten up during a prayer and praise service at church to ask for prayer that God would provide a new liver soon. That was a pretty neat encouragement for our family, and Dad shared with me his response and appreciation:
I have had three and a half very great weeks since the transplant and things are progressing well. Every day I am amazed at the way God holds us in his hand and directs our paths. I told Marcy the other day, "You know, it really does make you feel like a child of the King".
A few years ago after the Lord brought me out of the denial stage, he lead me to desire most of all that he receive glory from what ever comes of this era of my life. I always prayed that my family would be taken care of and tried to have things prepared in case the Lord wanted to take me home. However it always seemed that this was headed somewhere with a future purpose still to be completely realized. Throughout this trip I have heard from so many of my Christian friends and their churches who have prayed for my condition and the transplant. Then to see the Lord answer their prayers and build up their faith brings joy to my heart and praise to my lips. He seems to use things which come through our Christian community to draw us collectively to our knees so when the answer comes we see how he loves us and is concerned about our individual lives as well.
My heart is touched by children who take up the mantle and pray for those they see in need. It shows they see God is real in the lives of their family and demonstrates that the Kingdom of God is being passed on to the next generation. My kids have at nightly prayer times brought up request over and over again then at some point I could see why God was laying it on their heart and how he answered their prayers. I guess that's one of the most blessed things about being a parent. I thank him for the grace he gives our family, because as parents we can teach but he ultimately has to change hearts.
Liver of Dreams, Joseph
I have had three and a half very great weeks since the transplant and things are progressing well. Every day I am amazed at the way God holds us in his hand and directs our paths. I told Marcy the other day, "You know, it really does make you feel like a child of the King".
A few years ago after the Lord brought me out of the denial stage, he lead me to desire most of all that he receive glory from what ever comes of this era of my life. I always prayed that my family would be taken care of and tried to have things prepared in case the Lord wanted to take me home. However it always seemed that this was headed somewhere with a future purpose still to be completely realized. Throughout this trip I have heard from so many of my Christian friends and their churches who have prayed for my condition and the transplant. Then to see the Lord answer their prayers and build up their faith brings joy to my heart and praise to my lips. He seems to use things which come through our Christian community to draw us collectively to our knees so when the answer comes we see how he loves us and is concerned about our individual lives as well.
My heart is touched by children who take up the mantle and pray for those they see in need. It shows they see God is real in the lives of their family and demonstrates that the Kingdom of God is being passed on to the next generation. My kids have at nightly prayer times brought up request over and over again then at some point I could see why God was laying it on their heart and how he answered their prayers. I guess that's one of the most blessed things about being a parent. I thank him for the grace he gives our family, because as parents we can teach but he ultimately has to change hearts.
Liver of Dreams, Joseph
4.07.2004
The Prayers of a Faithful Wife
I'm sure I've mentioned before that "our" story hasn't just been over the course of these past five years. Those have been the highlight--they've been the result of year and years of faithful prayer. Prayer largely on the part of my mother who, through good and bad, easy and rough times, has stuck by my father's side and prayed "Thy will be done" in such earnest--she trusted that God would do something big to shake up our family. Here's a bit of her perspective on the story that she says could never be her's alone:
On June 5, 1981, Joseph Shore and I stood before God, family, and friends and pledged our love and lives to each other—for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, til death would part us. Ah, the waters that have washed beneath our bridge these past nearly 23 years. All the sights these once young, star-filled eyes have seen. In all of my wildest dreams, I never could have imagined what God would have in store for this journey of ours.
The story of our journey could never be mine alone, or Joe’s alone, but it is His story—born in the heart of God before time began. But I’ll be honest with you, I haven’t always seen that truth so clearly.
We are both products of a very similar home/church background. I came into our marriage as a Christian deeply desiring a “godly” home. Whatever that was. You see, I also came into the marriage being a “paw-parrot” Christian. I could say all the right words I had heard all my life. I could do all the right things that were expected of me. I was the compliant child after all. Problem was, I never really thought about anything in my life, or realized I could have a real “living-breathing” relationship with God. Joe came into our marriage with his “best foot forward” too—looking good and sounding good. But it only took a matter of days, and I just knew something was not quite right. There was a definite conflict of “spirits”. It wasn’t just a case of “newly married—gotta make adjustments here”.
For the next 14 years I mostly lived a life of quiet desperation, not knowing how to deal with what was happening in our lives. I so wanted to feel that I was walking the same path as my husband, but I wanted to “live for God” too. I? was torn between two worlds. Even in the times I wanted to “cut and run”, God was very much at work in our lives.
I began to pray a very specific prayer regarding Joseph. In my mind’s eye, I would picture a man grabbing another man by the collar and hoisting him off the ground. I would pray that God would draw up this self-sufficient “island-unto-himself” kind of man eyeball to eyeball, and nose to nose so that he could not see or trust in anything else, save Christ.
In February of 1985 we had our first head-on collision with PSC, Joe’s chronic liver disease. Amy had just turned two years old. Joe’s eyes and skin turned yellow. Within a month’s time he had lost so much weight, he had to wear suspenders to keep his pants on. He endured two surgeries within that time frame.
In 1994 I left my “teaching career” of ten years to be home with much-prayed-for baby #2, Jenny Lynn. In October of that same year, Joe went to Roanoke, VA for a job interview, and I was on my face on the living room floor, begging God to do something that would change our family forever. By January 1st, 1995, we were relocated from Kernersville to Concord, North Carolina. Later in the year, Joe went into cardiac arrest during a chemically induced stress test. He had stints placed in two clogged arteries. A third was left alone in hopes it would be ok without intervention.
In December of ’95 Joe wrote a letter to our Sunday School teacher and gave me a copy of it. The heart of the letter was the realization that he didn’t care for the things of God because he didn’t even know God. By the middle of January ’96 one thing was very evident. Joe was in Christ—he was a new creature. The old things were truly passed away, and all things had become new.
In February we learned that God was blessing us with baby #3. Joe was feeling just a little ganged-up on when Christiana Michelle arrived in September! Our lives were changing in the most awesome ways as God became the head of our home. He was gathering around us an ever growing circle of friends and continuing to unfold a series of events that were “God things”—we never could have worked out things in our lives the way we saw Him doing it!
Micah joined our family in July of ’98. He was named for Micah 6:8, “He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?”
The very next month after Micah was born, Joe was very obviously not well. We soon learned that the old PSC problem had returned. Indeed, it had been doing its damaging work all through the years. We were told that Joe would not get well without a transplant. The news thoroughly shocked us. At first Joe said he would not go through such a major ordeal, but god really softened and encouraged his heart. Within days of that initial announcement, Joe pulled me aside with a new message. We would not pray for a specific outcome in the situation, but only that God would receive glory for whatever happened in our lives.
The four years that followed were at once the very best of times and the very worst of times. We have walked together through our darkest days, but our path has been lit by the mercy, love, and grace of a tender Father God. In spite of it all, I’m glad our path has not been one of ease, for we have come to know Christ, and the fellowship of His suffering. In our weakness, He has been our strength. In our insufficiency, He has been our all sufficient One. In our smallness He has been so great. He is so very good—all the time. And no matter what will come tomorrow, or the next day, or the next, we are safe in His keeping. May we ever bear witness to His great faithfulness, and bring glory to Him all the days of our lives.
My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus blood and righteousness.
I dare not trust the sweetest frame
But wholly lean on Jesus name.
On Christ, the solid rock I stand,
All other ground is sinking sand.
All other ground is sinking sand.
On June 5, 1981, Joseph Shore and I stood before God, family, and friends and pledged our love and lives to each other—for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, til death would part us. Ah, the waters that have washed beneath our bridge these past nearly 23 years. All the sights these once young, star-filled eyes have seen. In all of my wildest dreams, I never could have imagined what God would have in store for this journey of ours.
The story of our journey could never be mine alone, or Joe’s alone, but it is His story—born in the heart of God before time began. But I’ll be honest with you, I haven’t always seen that truth so clearly.
We are both products of a very similar home/church background. I came into our marriage as a Christian deeply desiring a “godly” home. Whatever that was. You see, I also came into the marriage being a “paw-parrot” Christian. I could say all the right words I had heard all my life. I could do all the right things that were expected of me. I was the compliant child after all. Problem was, I never really thought about anything in my life, or realized I could have a real “living-breathing” relationship with God. Joe came into our marriage with his “best foot forward” too—looking good and sounding good. But it only took a matter of days, and I just knew something was not quite right. There was a definite conflict of “spirits”. It wasn’t just a case of “newly married—gotta make adjustments here”.
For the next 14 years I mostly lived a life of quiet desperation, not knowing how to deal with what was happening in our lives. I so wanted to feel that I was walking the same path as my husband, but I wanted to “live for God” too. I? was torn between two worlds. Even in the times I wanted to “cut and run”, God was very much at work in our lives.
I began to pray a very specific prayer regarding Joseph. In my mind’s eye, I would picture a man grabbing another man by the collar and hoisting him off the ground. I would pray that God would draw up this self-sufficient “island-unto-himself” kind of man eyeball to eyeball, and nose to nose so that he could not see or trust in anything else, save Christ.
In February of 1985 we had our first head-on collision with PSC, Joe’s chronic liver disease. Amy had just turned two years old. Joe’s eyes and skin turned yellow. Within a month’s time he had lost so much weight, he had to wear suspenders to keep his pants on. He endured two surgeries within that time frame.
In 1994 I left my “teaching career” of ten years to be home with much-prayed-for baby #2, Jenny Lynn. In October of that same year, Joe went to Roanoke, VA for a job interview, and I was on my face on the living room floor, begging God to do something that would change our family forever. By January 1st, 1995, we were relocated from Kernersville to Concord, North Carolina. Later in the year, Joe went into cardiac arrest during a chemically induced stress test. He had stints placed in two clogged arteries. A third was left alone in hopes it would be ok without intervention.
In December of ’95 Joe wrote a letter to our Sunday School teacher and gave me a copy of it. The heart of the letter was the realization that he didn’t care for the things of God because he didn’t even know God. By the middle of January ’96 one thing was very evident. Joe was in Christ—he was a new creature. The old things were truly passed away, and all things had become new.
In February we learned that God was blessing us with baby #3. Joe was feeling just a little ganged-up on when Christiana Michelle arrived in September! Our lives were changing in the most awesome ways as God became the head of our home. He was gathering around us an ever growing circle of friends and continuing to unfold a series of events that were “God things”—we never could have worked out things in our lives the way we saw Him doing it!
Micah joined our family in July of ’98. He was named for Micah 6:8, “He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?”
The very next month after Micah was born, Joe was very obviously not well. We soon learned that the old PSC problem had returned. Indeed, it had been doing its damaging work all through the years. We were told that Joe would not get well without a transplant. The news thoroughly shocked us. At first Joe said he would not go through such a major ordeal, but god really softened and encouraged his heart. Within days of that initial announcement, Joe pulled me aside with a new message. We would not pray for a specific outcome in the situation, but only that God would receive glory for whatever happened in our lives.
The four years that followed were at once the very best of times and the very worst of times. We have walked together through our darkest days, but our path has been lit by the mercy, love, and grace of a tender Father God. In spite of it all, I’m glad our path has not been one of ease, for we have come to know Christ, and the fellowship of His suffering. In our weakness, He has been our strength. In our insufficiency, He has been our all sufficient One. In our smallness He has been so great. He is so very good—all the time. And no matter what will come tomorrow, or the next day, or the next, we are safe in His keeping. May we ever bear witness to His great faithfulness, and bring glory to Him all the days of our lives.
Than Jesus blood and righteousness.
I dare not trust the sweetest frame
But wholly lean on Jesus name.
On Christ, the solid rock I stand,
All other ground is sinking sand.
All other ground is sinking sand.
4.05.2004
Message from Dad
I just got back from one of my biweekly lab test at the transplant clinic and physical therapy for my arm. They took my staples (45 of them) and my few remaining stitches which is a big relief. I feel better than I have for many years and things are going well. They are pleased with my lab test and current progress. I went in the hospital weighing 254 (had retained a lot of fluid) and this morning weighed 207. It was an expensive diet and I ingested more liver at one time than I ever had before. Hey if it works...... They told me for the next three months to eat a lot of calories, fat, meat, sweets, etc. This is a strange feeling to choose something to eat because it has more calories than something else. I guess you call it the real SeeFood Diet. Anyway things are going great and I am trying to build up my over all endurance and strength.
Liver Of Dreams, Joe
Liver Of Dreams, Joe
4.03.2004
Wisdom in Grace
Some times I envy my siblings. It's been so incredibly neat to be old enough to walk along side my family these last few years and watch the example of my parents as they grow in love for the God who sustains them, the family that surrounds them, and the saints who encourage them. But I'm not going to be around for the day to day blessings of watching Dad grow stronger or being one of the kids that gets to benefit from his restored clarity of thought and quick wit. Knowing that I have a piece of the puzzle that my siblings will never fully comprehend--being able to grow with my parents--and knowing that they in turn get to reap the benefits of parents that have so grown in grace as to permeate each nook and cranny of the home life, with that in mind I'm trying to close the gap a bit. I've been trying to give the kids a log of the journey, bits of stories, their reactions and concerns, and words of wisdom from our father. I'm sure they'll hear many more words of wisdom in the coming days, especially as they get older. But to highlight the duel joy and struggle of the journey may bring clarity to the parts of the story they will one day remember most.
"Good comes with God's timing, not ours. This often
tries our patience but never leaves us hopeless."
"For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face.
Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I
have been fully known." (1 Corinthians 13:12)
"Amy, you know what really melts a father's heart? It is to stop long enough to really see the love of his children for him. That's a treasure that can never be measured. It kind makes all of these hospital detours along with the pain and sickness worth while. Never under estimate the power of showing love and kindness to those you meet. The world will never understand it or have it to give."
"The majority of Christians feel that God never does great works in their life because he has never parted the Red Sea for them, delivered them through a world wide flood. They never stop to think about how they have never needed to cross the Red Sea on dry land to escape the entire Egyptian army, or that they have never faced a world wide flood. Your note on God working out your living and working arrangements reminded me of this. That is your Red Sea because that is Almighty God working in and through you, and to say that is no small thing is an understatement.
"I have had many times like that then he worked and whispered in my ear 'Yo, this is me', or something like that. We are made to enjoy him and do so greatfully. He is always working in our lives, it's a pleasure when we realize it."
"I was talking with Marcy...about life and its seeming complexities. We have seen God work so many times in our lives, and witnessed his goodness in such a great way that I would not trade it for a 'normal life'. He often lets the Egyptian army nip at our heels so we have a deeper appreciation for the Red Sea he parts for us.
"Thank you all for the prayers you have offered in my behalf and the notes you have sent. The covenant community is a great tool God has to lift our heads and hands up." --Joe Shore
tries our patience but never leaves us hopeless."
"For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face.
Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I
have been fully known." (1 Corinthians 13:12)
"Amy, you know what really melts a father's heart? It is to stop long enough to really see the love of his children for him. That's a treasure that can never be measured. It kind makes all of these hospital detours along with the pain and sickness worth while. Never under estimate the power of showing love and kindness to those you meet. The world will never understand it or have it to give."
"The majority of Christians feel that God never does great works in their life because he has never parted the Red Sea for them, delivered them through a world wide flood. They never stop to think about how they have never needed to cross the Red Sea on dry land to escape the entire Egyptian army, or that they have never faced a world wide flood. Your note on God working out your living and working arrangements reminded me of this. That is your Red Sea because that is Almighty God working in and through you, and to say that is no small thing is an understatement.
"I have had many times like that then he worked and whispered in my ear 'Yo, this is me', or something like that. We are made to enjoy him and do so greatfully. He is always working in our lives, it's a pleasure when we realize it."
"I was talking with Marcy...about life and its seeming complexities. We have seen God work so many times in our lives, and witnessed his goodness in such a great way that I would not trade it for a 'normal life'. He often lets the Egyptian army nip at our heels so we have a deeper appreciation for the Red Sea he parts for us.
"Thank you all for the prayers you have offered in my behalf and the notes you have sent. The covenant community is a great tool God has to lift our heads and hands up." --Joe Shore
4.01.2004
Prayer in Grace
There are times when ya just don't know how to pray. Maybe all that comes to mind is, "Thy will be done". You open your mouth but nothing comes out because your heart is too full, you don't know what the best things to say is, or just because words can seem to express. Some advice a friend of mine gave me the last time I was speechless was to pull out the hymn books, the prayer books, the chapel book, read the hymns and prayers of steadfast saints throughout history--and then re-read and re-re-read them over and over until they become your words.
Going through my journal this week of Dad's health journey I rediscovered a hymn and a prayer each that I shrunk down to keep in my notebook for moments along the way when words lack yet there's so much to be said:
How Sweet and Awful Is the Place
How sweet and awful is the place
With Christ within the doors,
While everlasting love displays
The choicest of her stores.
While all our hearts and all our songs
Join to admire the feast,
Each of us cry, with thankful tongues,
“Lord, why was I a guest?
“Why was I made to hear thy voice,
And enter while there’s room,
When thousands make a wretched choice,
And rather starve than come?”
‘Twas the same love that spread the feast
That sweetly drew us in;
Else we had still refused to taste,
And perished in our sin.
Pity the nations, O our God,
Constrain the earth to come;
Send thy victorious Word abroad,
And bring the strangers home.
We long to see thy churches full,
That all the chosen race
May with one voice and heart and soul,
Sing thy redeeming grace.
Morning Prayer
Grant unto me, my Lord, that with peace in mind I may face all that this new day is to bring.
Grant unto me grace to surrender myself completely to thy holy will.
Instruct and prepare me in all things for every hour of this day.
Whatsoever tidings I may receive during the day, do Thou teach me to accept them calmly, in the firm conviction that all eventualities fulfill Thy holy will.
Govern Thou my thoughts and feelings in all I do and say.
When things unforeseen occur, let me not forget that all cometh down from Thee.
Teach me to behave sincerely and reasonably toward every member of my family and all other human beings, that I may not cause confusion and sorrow to anyone.
Bestow upon me, my Lord, strength to endure the fatigue of the day and to bear my share in all its passing events.
Guide Thou my will and teach me to pray, to believe, to hope, to suffer, to forgive, and to love. Amen.
Going through my journal this week of Dad's health journey I rediscovered a hymn and a prayer each that I shrunk down to keep in my notebook for moments along the way when words lack yet there's so much to be said:
How sweet and awful is the place
With Christ within the doors,
While everlasting love displays
The choicest of her stores.
While all our hearts and all our songs
Join to admire the feast,
Each of us cry, with thankful tongues,
“Lord, why was I a guest?
“Why was I made to hear thy voice,
And enter while there’s room,
When thousands make a wretched choice,
And rather starve than come?”
‘Twas the same love that spread the feast
That sweetly drew us in;
Else we had still refused to taste,
And perished in our sin.
Pity the nations, O our God,
Constrain the earth to come;
Send thy victorious Word abroad,
And bring the strangers home.
We long to see thy churches full,
That all the chosen race
May with one voice and heart and soul,
Sing thy redeeming grace.
Morning Prayer
Grant unto me, my Lord, that with peace in mind I may face all that this new day is to bring.
Grant unto me grace to surrender myself completely to thy holy will.
Instruct and prepare me in all things for every hour of this day.
Whatsoever tidings I may receive during the day, do Thou teach me to accept them calmly, in the firm conviction that all eventualities fulfill Thy holy will.
Govern Thou my thoughts and feelings in all I do and say.
When things unforeseen occur, let me not forget that all cometh down from Thee.
Teach me to behave sincerely and reasonably toward every member of my family and all other human beings, that I may not cause confusion and sorrow to anyone.
Bestow upon me, my Lord, strength to endure the fatigue of the day and to bear my share in all its passing events.
Guide Thou my will and teach me to pray, to believe, to hope, to suffer, to forgive, and to love. Amen.
3.30.2004
Timing in Grace
It seems that for all the waiting we've been doing over these last few years we had a rather non-eventful climax. By all means I'm not saying that my father having a liver transplant two weeks ago was not dramatic mind you. It just seems that we've had more drama along the way than when we were most expecting it. Funny how God works. We thought all along that we were ready any time for the call to come saying, "We think we've got a match. Get down here ASAP." We thought we were ready the day we heard that we would definitely need a transplant for Dad to live much less function well. We knew we were ready when we had to spend the Super Bowl in the hospital a couple of years ago. I mean seriously. If we have to watch Baltimore whoop up on New York from a confetti and cray-pappered hospital room we could at least get something better than a Giants loss for our money! We knew that when Dad was seeing little metal men on the walls of his room two years ago and thinking that the hospital had convinced me to have him done away with—we knew all we needed was a new liver. That would clear up the Beautiful Mind syndrome.
We learned a lot about hospital time during the wait. I, for one, never equated it with God's timing of course because God wanted what was best for us and the hospital system certainly wasn't giving us what was best. I really can't put a specific instance on the table as the mile marker for realizing that we really were on God's time. I can't say when we started seeing that what we thought to be the best for us might not have necessarily been God's best for us. Learning man's chief end is a part of the journey. To glorify God and to enjoy Him forever is not some light bulb experience. There's no capstone. There's no arrival. There's the ordinary, the simple, the stead fast.
He's an on time God because His timing is perfect. He weaves so many facets to make the tapestry of life, and there’s no way in our subjective-one-track-mind kind of being that we could even think to bring all the different people, plans, and opportunities together to fulfill His will to the glory of His name. While God wove times and circumstances He was simultaneously teaching us that the habits of today are the reactions of tomorrow. We were looking and waiting for the big day, which for us was a transplant. We knew that it wasn't a good idea to put our lives on hold until that day because we knew it could be a year or two. But to live in future hopes we often miss the small graces of the day to day.
In I Peter, the apostle is addressing a group of believers who have had quite a time in life with trials, persecution, and the like. We get the idea that Peter is commending the people for their faith but that he's also giving them a helpful reminder that faith is under girded by habitual consistency—by living life deliberately. Be self-controlled and sober-minded (1 Peter 4:7). Love one another (4:8). Show hospitality and do not grumble (4:9). Use you gifts—whether of service or of speech—"in order that in every thing God may be glorified through Jesus Christ" (4:10-11). To those elect exiles of Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia, to those of us whom Peter would call the stewards of God's grace he gives the reminder that the mountain top and the valley experiences are rarely as life changing as we give them credit. How we live life daily—when we have the time or make the time to think through why we do what we do—determines how we'll respond in the moments of crisis or joy. In those moments when there's no time to think and our minds are crowed by one extreme emotion or another .
There have been so many faithful people surrounding my family these last few years. I say faithful because I've seen their reflexes. They see a need and they respond not out of duty but out of habit. And with the habit is a sense of gratitude that they could serve in the Name of the One who has been so gracious in their own lives. One of my mentors painted a picture of grace for me before I ever knew what the word meant. "Grace can never be compensated, but as we become vessels of His grace the kingdom is served". That sums it up. God has not called us to a duty. There is no called in debt to be repaid by practicing the golden rule. Rather the stewards of God's grace are called to a lifestyle of living deliberately, with a purpose, acting out beliefs, on a daily basis. So that one day—one big day—when the ripple affects of the fall threaten to wash us ashore we'll already be grounded
It's a process. It's a journey. And it’s grace that we need not travel alone.
We learned a lot about hospital time during the wait. I, for one, never equated it with God's timing of course because God wanted what was best for us and the hospital system certainly wasn't giving us what was best. I really can't put a specific instance on the table as the mile marker for realizing that we really were on God's time. I can't say when we started seeing that what we thought to be the best for us might not have necessarily been God's best for us. Learning man's chief end is a part of the journey. To glorify God and to enjoy Him forever is not some light bulb experience. There's no capstone. There's no arrival. There's the ordinary, the simple, the stead fast.
He's an on time God because His timing is perfect. He weaves so many facets to make the tapestry of life, and there’s no way in our subjective-one-track-mind kind of being that we could even think to bring all the different people, plans, and opportunities together to fulfill His will to the glory of His name. While God wove times and circumstances He was simultaneously teaching us that the habits of today are the reactions of tomorrow. We were looking and waiting for the big day, which for us was a transplant. We knew that it wasn't a good idea to put our lives on hold until that day because we knew it could be a year or two. But to live in future hopes we often miss the small graces of the day to day.
In I Peter, the apostle is addressing a group of believers who have had quite a time in life with trials, persecution, and the like. We get the idea that Peter is commending the people for their faith but that he's also giving them a helpful reminder that faith is under girded by habitual consistency—by living life deliberately. Be self-controlled and sober-minded (1 Peter 4:7). Love one another (4:8). Show hospitality and do not grumble (4:9). Use you gifts—whether of service or of speech—"in order that in every thing God may be glorified through Jesus Christ" (4:10-11). To those elect exiles of Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia, to those of us whom Peter would call the stewards of God's grace he gives the reminder that the mountain top and the valley experiences are rarely as life changing as we give them credit. How we live life daily—when we have the time or make the time to think through why we do what we do—determines how we'll respond in the moments of crisis or joy. In those moments when there's no time to think and our minds are crowed by one extreme emotion or another .
There have been so many faithful people surrounding my family these last few years. I say faithful because I've seen their reflexes. They see a need and they respond not out of duty but out of habit. And with the habit is a sense of gratitude that they could serve in the Name of the One who has been so gracious in their own lives. One of my mentors painted a picture of grace for me before I ever knew what the word meant. "Grace can never be compensated, but as we become vessels of His grace the kingdom is served". That sums it up. God has not called us to a duty. There is no called in debt to be repaid by practicing the golden rule. Rather the stewards of God's grace are called to a lifestyle of living deliberately, with a purpose, acting out beliefs, on a daily basis. So that one day—one big day—when the ripple affects of the fall threaten to wash us ashore we'll already be grounded
It's a process. It's a journey. And it’s grace that we need not travel alone.
3.29.2004
Seasons of Grace
It's been almost five years since the start of this journey that has been anything but dull and all of adventurous.
My father was diagnosed with Primary Sclerosing Cholangitis (PSC) some 19 years ago while living in Indiana. I was about two so my parents had only been married about three years. They went through a hard time at first with different complications including Dad's first introduction to extreme jaundice and weight loss, but when it seemed that the doctors had fixed what they could Mom and Dad went on with their new family. Then about five years ago we realized that all along the liver disease had been quietly doing its damage over the years, closing off bile ducts, shutting down blood flow through the liver, and beginning to cause jaundice once again. Dad's first doctors were in denial as far as his original diagnosis in Indiana went. We had to see a few people before anyone knew what to do with us. Then we found a gastroenterologist, and his secretary, who became the first taste of mercy on our journey. They walked with us as far as they were able and then lead us to the next group of doctors once Dad had progressed beyond their means of aid. It was that doctor who first told us that a liver transplant might lay ahead.
Four years ago I started keeping tabs on Dad's digression according to the school year calendar. It seemed that like clockwork he would yearly end up in the hospital during the last three months of school--specifically March and April. Though there were other evidences of mercy along the way, I think for me that was one of the chief. School was my first taste of community. Had our little hospital visits been at any other time I don't think I would have realized that as I do now. My friends and their families were the pillars that kept our hands raised and our gazes upturned.
My senior year of high school Dad had some stints put into his liver so the things could flow properly. That summer he had his colon taken out and was given an ileostomy, a waste bag of sorts.
My first year of college things started with a bleed, the a transfusion gone wrong, then a stint revision. From there we were told that we were heading for our transplant hospital to await a transplant, but not before Dad could experience a wild ride being weaned off the ventilator ending with a mild heart attack. But once again God graced us by surrounding us with people—Mom’s family kept the kids, our church family mowed the lawn, fed the cat, and took out the trash, and our school family…they never ceased to love, call, or bring food, give me their gas card, cell phone, or car. We didn’t get our transplant that year, but that’s another grace story.
Second year at school I remember an interesting infection. I don’t think the doctors ever figured out what the source of it was, but Dad did get to visit his favorite hotel because of it. His primary transplant doctor was going to suggest to the medical board to move Dad up on the list pretty drastically. We didn’t hear anything for over a month—it was a no go. But that summer—last summer—was the start of another gracious relationship. Dad applied a little closer to home and to a hospital that wasn’t so big to be placed on their transplant list. They accepted us and immediately our place on the list shot almost to the top.
It’s March. I’m at school thinking it’s time for something to happen. At the beginning of the month I had been a bit wearied by the duration of the journey, but amazed and grateful at how many people still asked about Dad and said that they were still praying. March 13, I’d had plenty of time to think about it but when the time came, I had no idea what to do with myself when Dad called to say that the hospital had a liver for him. I called a few close friends and e-mailed the network of Prayer Warriors Dad had asked me to notify. I waited through the night until Mom called around 6:30 her time Sunday morning to tell me that the liver was a definite match and Dad was going in for surgery. I called a couple more people and headed to the home of a good friend who was going to drive to North Carolina with me. As if the calls, the e-mails, the prayers, the food, the child care, the money, the phone, the car, the yard work and taking out the trash weren’t enough to show me how much God was taking care of us and loved us through the little detail of the big experiences—as if that weren’t enough, I was completely blown away by my friend’s offer to come home with me and help in whatever way was needed.
We were an hour away from the hospital when Mom called to say that the doctor would be out in about thirty minutes to give a report of how the surgery went. At that point we started praying the he could wait until we got there because I wanted to be with Mom when we heard. At the hospital it took me a few seconds to spot Mom in the little cluster of friends surrounding her. And it wasn’t even ten minutes later, after exchanging moisty-eyed greetings and big hugs that the doctor came out to talk with family. Talk about timing. Mom shared with our friends how the doctors thought it would take all day because of Dad’s interesting anatomy, but that once they were in things were better that ever anticipated. Through tears of relief, joy, gratitude, and hope Mom asked if we could all hold hands and sing the doxology:
Praise God from whom all blessing flow
Praise Him all creatures here below
Praise Him above ye heavenly hosts
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen.
God is good—all the time. And at that moment we all knew it was true. Not just for that moment but it had been true when Dad was first diagnosed, when we were told we needed a transplant, when friends brought casseroles and bread, when two friends from our transplant support group died on the same day, when a friend’s mom shows up at our hospital some three hours away at the gloomiest point in our journey, when the church family shows up to take the kids to the park, when Dad had a mild heart attack, when we were lead every step of the way to those doctors, nurses, and transplant coordinators who were to care for Dad when the time came. All the time God is good.
The Shore family has in no way come to the end of our journey. It’s true that every step of the way the journey has prepared us for the climax. Taking into consideration that the rabbit-trails are indeed the point, I think a lot of what makes a destination so much more profound is what you learn or experience as you journey. It takes something like a bumpy road to be genuinely grateful for stationary solitude. If anything, we’ve reached a commencement. We’ve grown through first hand lesson on faith, hope, and love. We’ve been stretched and taught about offering a sacrifice of praise. We’ve learned how abundant God's grace is, and it never ceases to amaze us that He chooses to manifest that grace through people most often.
We’ve no idea what the future hold, but then again that’s not a new concept is it. We’ll continue to take one day at a time. We’ll dream a little more, plan a little more, hope a lot more, trust a lot more and see what God has in store. The things we do know: God is good all the time and covenant community is His most precious means of grace bearing tangible evidence to that fact.
That’s our story and you’re such a big part of it. Blessings in grace. Amy and fam
My father was diagnosed with Primary Sclerosing Cholangitis (PSC) some 19 years ago while living in Indiana. I was about two so my parents had only been married about three years. They went through a hard time at first with different complications including Dad's first introduction to extreme jaundice and weight loss, but when it seemed that the doctors had fixed what they could Mom and Dad went on with their new family. Then about five years ago we realized that all along the liver disease had been quietly doing its damage over the years, closing off bile ducts, shutting down blood flow through the liver, and beginning to cause jaundice once again. Dad's first doctors were in denial as far as his original diagnosis in Indiana went. We had to see a few people before anyone knew what to do with us. Then we found a gastroenterologist, and his secretary, who became the first taste of mercy on our journey. They walked with us as far as they were able and then lead us to the next group of doctors once Dad had progressed beyond their means of aid. It was that doctor who first told us that a liver transplant might lay ahead.
Four years ago I started keeping tabs on Dad's digression according to the school year calendar. It seemed that like clockwork he would yearly end up in the hospital during the last three months of school--specifically March and April. Though there were other evidences of mercy along the way, I think for me that was one of the chief. School was my first taste of community. Had our little hospital visits been at any other time I don't think I would have realized that as I do now. My friends and their families were the pillars that kept our hands raised and our gazes upturned.
My senior year of high school Dad had some stints put into his liver so the things could flow properly. That summer he had his colon taken out and was given an ileostomy, a waste bag of sorts.
My first year of college things started with a bleed, the a transfusion gone wrong, then a stint revision. From there we were told that we were heading for our transplant hospital to await a transplant, but not before Dad could experience a wild ride being weaned off the ventilator ending with a mild heart attack. But once again God graced us by surrounding us with people—Mom’s family kept the kids, our church family mowed the lawn, fed the cat, and took out the trash, and our school family…they never ceased to love, call, or bring food, give me their gas card, cell phone, or car. We didn’t get our transplant that year, but that’s another grace story.
Second year at school I remember an interesting infection. I don’t think the doctors ever figured out what the source of it was, but Dad did get to visit his favorite hotel because of it. His primary transplant doctor was going to suggest to the medical board to move Dad up on the list pretty drastically. We didn’t hear anything for over a month—it was a no go. But that summer—last summer—was the start of another gracious relationship. Dad applied a little closer to home and to a hospital that wasn’t so big to be placed on their transplant list. They accepted us and immediately our place on the list shot almost to the top.
It’s March. I’m at school thinking it’s time for something to happen. At the beginning of the month I had been a bit wearied by the duration of the journey, but amazed and grateful at how many people still asked about Dad and said that they were still praying. March 13, I’d had plenty of time to think about it but when the time came, I had no idea what to do with myself when Dad called to say that the hospital had a liver for him. I called a few close friends and e-mailed the network of Prayer Warriors Dad had asked me to notify. I waited through the night until Mom called around 6:30 her time Sunday morning to tell me that the liver was a definite match and Dad was going in for surgery. I called a couple more people and headed to the home of a good friend who was going to drive to North Carolina with me. As if the calls, the e-mails, the prayers, the food, the child care, the money, the phone, the car, the yard work and taking out the trash weren’t enough to show me how much God was taking care of us and loved us through the little detail of the big experiences—as if that weren’t enough, I was completely blown away by my friend’s offer to come home with me and help in whatever way was needed.
We were an hour away from the hospital when Mom called to say that the doctor would be out in about thirty minutes to give a report of how the surgery went. At that point we started praying the he could wait until we got there because I wanted to be with Mom when we heard. At the hospital it took me a few seconds to spot Mom in the little cluster of friends surrounding her. And it wasn’t even ten minutes later, after exchanging moisty-eyed greetings and big hugs that the doctor came out to talk with family. Talk about timing. Mom shared with our friends how the doctors thought it would take all day because of Dad’s interesting anatomy, but that once they were in things were better that ever anticipated. Through tears of relief, joy, gratitude, and hope Mom asked if we could all hold hands and sing the doxology:
Praise God from whom all blessing flow
Praise Him all creatures here below
Praise Him above ye heavenly hosts
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen.
God is good—all the time. And at that moment we all knew it was true. Not just for that moment but it had been true when Dad was first diagnosed, when we were told we needed a transplant, when friends brought casseroles and bread, when two friends from our transplant support group died on the same day, when a friend’s mom shows up at our hospital some three hours away at the gloomiest point in our journey, when the church family shows up to take the kids to the park, when Dad had a mild heart attack, when we were lead every step of the way to those doctors, nurses, and transplant coordinators who were to care for Dad when the time came. All the time God is good.
The Shore family has in no way come to the end of our journey. It’s true that every step of the way the journey has prepared us for the climax. Taking into consideration that the rabbit-trails are indeed the point, I think a lot of what makes a destination so much more profound is what you learn or experience as you journey. It takes something like a bumpy road to be genuinely grateful for stationary solitude. If anything, we’ve reached a commencement. We’ve grown through first hand lesson on faith, hope, and love. We’ve been stretched and taught about offering a sacrifice of praise. We’ve learned how abundant God's grace is, and it never ceases to amaze us that He chooses to manifest that grace through people most often.
We’ve no idea what the future hold, but then again that’s not a new concept is it. We’ll continue to take one day at a time. We’ll dream a little more, plan a little more, hope a lot more, trust a lot more and see what God has in store. The things we do know: God is good all the time and covenant community is His most precious means of grace bearing tangible evidence to that fact.
That’s our story and you’re such a big part of it. Blessings in grace. Amy and fam