CHOOSE LIFE

THIS IS THE SUBJECT MOST RUN FROM in a conversation, much less let anyone know it has assaulted them emotionally at some point in their lives. What am I speaking of? Suicide. I never expected to write on this subject,...but here I am tackling it anyway. The immediate thinking would be that this has not touched you personally in anyway. However, you may find yourself needing to choose life where you did not know you hadn't...or help a close friend to choose life who has given up on it and not understood why. My hope is that this will, at the very least, give insight to reach out to others meaningfully.

Years ago I stood in front of a man asking him a question. He had just finished his most recent talk for the evening. As a guest speaker at a local church that night, this man was known as “Mr. Agape” in christian circles nationwide. His nickname was The “Apostle of Love”. His reputation as a Christ like, loving man was widely known. He spoke extensively on laying aside old practices and habits in our lives that cause harm or discredit us as followers of Christ, or hinder our walk with God. I asked him what thoughts he might have as to why quitting smoking in my life was so very difficult and seemed impossible to stop. The addiction had an iron grip on me. He was silent for some time (I believe he was listening to the Holy Spirit in those moments), then tears welled up in his eyes and he said, “Some people choose a slow form of suicide, not an immediate one.”

That statement opened the door to the understanding that embedded within an addiction there can possibly be a form of slow suicide occurring, and we don't “see” it for what it is. Somewhere in our life journey a hidden part of us on the inside can make a decision that life is not worth living, that we are not valued and we sense no purpose or direction. There can be a multitude of abusive life events that bring us to this internal decision. A parent's absence or abandonment physically or emotionally, physical or emotional abuse itself, or any kind of perceived rejection from others in our life journey, to name only a few. As a result we come to a place where WE REJECT OURSELVES, and begin to punish ourselves through the addictions. The feeling or belief that we were not suppose to even be here to participate in life is at play, and it is not a conscious realization most often.

Of course the methods of slow suicide are varied and numerous, and truly, no condemnation on my part is intimated here. Been there, done that...There's a multitude of different kinds of addictions, including man made narcotics, or nature's natural chemicals found in our environment. The addictions can manifest as well in our own appetites such as excessive food consumption. Another one not often looked at....is a “flirting” with death through extreme sport activities that greatly lessen each time, one's odds of living through another “adventure”. I call it the “adrenaline addiction”. One becomes addicted to the need for more of their own adrenaline being produced in “daredevil” situations. (NOTE: There is evidence also that a mineral and/or hormonal imbalance can drive the “daredevil” syndrome).

The other end of the spectrum on this issue is the more immediate suicidal actions people take that can stem from deep emotional pain. I know this first hand. As I walked by my refrigerator the other day, I looked at a recent photo of my son I had placed there. He passed a year a half ago from an accidental drug overdose, and I've only just begun to grieve my loss. He was my only child. As I stood there I was suddenly, unexpectedly, overwhelmed with a suicidal feeling within myself. It swept over and engulfed me like a tidal wave. Frankly, it took me by surprise. It passed as quickly as it came because my trust in God sustained me in those moments. The God that I know cares deeply for me. It's hard to share this knowing that others may “label” me because of it. However, to me it's worth it because it exposes another potential contributing factor in suicide, and reveals our deep need for Christ's healing.

It's the emotional pain that we are exposed to through life events that can run very deep and feel VERY overwhelming. So strong are the feelings of pain at times, that what seems like the only “escape” from it, is life's termination as quickly as possible. The fear generated by it is off the chart. Self medicating is not working, or not present in those moments. The powerlessness we feel threatens to undo us. Deep emotional pain feels and looks like death. God has been teaching me through the years to not fear emotional pain. He is there if we reach out to Him in those moments. Our problem is that we demand relief from our pain any way we can get it with out Him.

Can demonic spirits be involved in suicidal issues? Yes. It's one of the “flaming darts” the enemy will throw our direction if he can. My focus however is not on what the enemy tries to do but rather what leaves us vulnerable to the attack to begin with. We need Christ's healing touch emotionally and most often...deeply.

For those of you who grieve like myself, I do not know if this will ever try to attack your life or not. I think it does more than others are willing to admit. I pray it doesn't. But know this, you're not alone, and this is nothing new to life's struggles. I have chosen life, and will continue to do so. The greatest victory I can have here is to live to fight another day. I want to be used of God to make the devil pay every last cent that is due for his duplicity in trying to get us to abort our lives before the time. Unfortunately, he succeeded with my son through addiction and accidental overdose. My vengeance is to fulfill every good work God has laid out before me on my life journey before I pass. My revenge is to love with Christ's love and to live......Check yourself through God's leading, and don't let suicide of any kind rule you. I know the Person that vanquishes the suicidal. He cares. He can heal and deliver.

And by the way, I did beat that 45 year old nicotine habit. Christ set me free when I chose life. His.

THE TWO PATHS OF BROKENNESS

I told God that I feel broken now with the death of my only child, my son. I am aware of in these moments, the two paths that brokenness presents to us when tragedy or hardship occurs. Will the brokenness we experience lead us to a greater dependence on God? Will it lead to the permanent acknowledgment that our weakness prevails in this life and only the Lord can be our strength? Will it break open our hearts to the point where we have dropped all emotional self-protection and learn to love others as we love ourselves? Will our focus shift to what really matters in this life and see it as Christ sees it?

If the first path that brokenness can lead to is chosen, we retreat in life. No one and nothing matters much anymore. We shove aside the tenderness of heart that the brokenness brings about and shut it out. The heart hardens itself further and the prison doors lock up tighter than ever. Anger, depression, and bitterness progressively develop. The mentality of the “victim” begins to set in in our thought life. The “blame game” or unforgiveness progressively overtakes us which is directed toward God or someone else. In short, we don't see a way out. The fruit of this paradigm shift is emotional, relational, and eventually spiritual decay and deadness. This is the path of a fallen world's way of dealing with the brokenness when it occurs.

The choice of the second path instead can bring a new dimension of life. This is the path I choose. The hardness of heart I had prayed for God to remove several years ago, is gone. My heart is tender now, and when I hear of someone else's tragedy or hardship, I am moved to compassion and even at times, weep for them. Empathy was minimal in my life before, and I didn't take much thought about what others suffer, until now. I had, in the past, cared more about a suffering animal than a hurting human being. I say this to my shame. In repeated prayers over the years I have told God that I knew there was something wrong with this attitude and that I knew it wasn't supposed to be this way. People are supposed to matter far more than animals ( and I deeply love animals). If we're really honest, I think many of us are this way, but don't think about it much. This has changed now for me. Others do matter more. The love of Christ is beginning to prevail in my relationships. The second path's brokenness has caused the best paradigm shift, and is the most fruitful spiritually that can be taken if we choose it. It's fruit is agape love, self-sacrifice moved by compassion, and a helplessness that throws itself into the arms of God every day.

If we allow God to take our brokenness and turn it to the greatest good in our lives, and shun the world's way of facing it, then we have taken the best pathway possible,....it is the path that comes along side and participates in Christ's suffering or attitude that leads to His holiness and the understanding of His heart and His heartbeat.

THE TABLE OF LOVE OR THE TABLE OF DREAD

After watching the last of a video series at church about the family and it's importance, my Pastor asked us all a question. What was supper like in our homes as children growing up? The supper table sets the tone for the knitting together of a family in it's relationships. Several people shared their experiences, most were pleasant. I debated on whether to speak up at all on this issue. I did not.

As a child, and for most of my adult life, coming to the supper table was an experience that was deeply dreaded each evening. Indeed, I remember staying outside, playing as long as I could to put off coming inside to sit at the table when dinner was announced. As we sat to eat, the entire meal was fraught with verbal and emotional abuse and sometimes physical attack. My father was a critical alcoholic and did not hesitate to strike out at everyone during the evening meal. It was a nightmare. The best strategy was to just keep quite, and perhaps one would be overlooked for any forthcoming abuse.

In the scriptures God speaks of sitting at His table and supping with Him. Ah yes,...the great banquet spoken of in Isaiah 25:6. Christ spoke of inviting Him in to dine with us in Revelation 3:20. This is something to look forward to for all who follow Him. In 1988 I was working temporarily in Washington state and was staying with my parents while my husband Randy who was a lineman, was working on a job out of town on the east coast. We planned to return to his home state of Florida when his job was finished. During a phone conversation two weeks before his job ended, and in the course of our conversation he said to me, “Marguerite, I'm tired of living my life the way I've been living it. I want to know Christ in my life again. Can you help me?” I was ecstatic! I had been praying for my husband to return to Christ for some time. In his youth, Randy had experienced the touch of God to become a minister of the gospel but did not follow through with God's plan. God had turned his heart toward Him once again. In two more weeks my husband would be home with a heart following God again. I could not wait!

In the several nights that followed, I began to experience visitations from God. He was speaking to me nightly for long periods of time as I slept. They were lengthy conversations of some sort, yet I could not remember what had been said when I awoke the next morning. It baffled me. I knew enough though to know that God was “downloading” something of importance to me that would be needed in the future. What struck me the most was the feeling that I had of having sat down at a great banquet all night with the Lord,....His words were feeding me as He spoke them. In the mornings after I awoke, I felt something that I cannot even begin to describe. It was the deepest, most profound satisfaction of spirit and soul I've ever known. There was an ongoing, multi-night banquet feeding my spirit and my soul for several days. The impact of the nightly visitations prompted me to share the experiences with my mother.

Two weeks later I was notified that my husband was dead. An accident on his job site took his life. It had happened on the last day of his job, one hour before quitting time. He was 34 years old. I was 32.

Our son Randall was four years old. You see, Randy had promised me that he would not work on jobs out of town anymore that kept us apart as a family.

As I entered the funeral home's office to make arrangements I was asked if I wanted see him to make sure everything was in order for the evening viewing to come. I had dreaded this,...viewing his body without his spirit present, and facing death for the first time in my life,..looking upon his face, to see the death of someone I loved. I entered the room where his body was. A well meaning funeral employee had applied the mortician's make up to Randy's face and it was too pale. I noticed it immediately as Randy was a deeply tanned individual. His blonde hair and blue eyes belied his American Indian heritage which caused him to tan easily. I pointed this out to the mortician and directed the him for several minutes on re-applying a darker shade of makeup so Randy's face had a more natural appearance. I was guided by a supernatural calmness and peace that I had never experienced before. There was no falling apart emotionally, no fear for the twenty minutes of time that it took to do so.

I stepped outside of the funeral home afterwards to take in all that I had just walked through. The Florida sun was shining so brightly that afternoon. In an instant, as I stepped into the sunshine, the content of God's nightly visitations, for the first time, flooded my mind......and I remembered. The insight and understanding came to me that I had been through several “rehearsals” in my sleep from the Holy Spirit to prepare me for the 20 minutes that had just occurred. God had already walked me through that particular twenty minutes with the funeral home employee during the nights as I had slept the two weeks before. God had been to preparing me beforehand to be able face my husband's death. In retrospect, I would not have had the emotional strength and courage needed to walk into the room where my husband's body was, much less direct the mortician on the re-application of the facial makeup that needed to be changed.

Those banquets of God that I sat at in preparation for Randy's passing, were amazing and beyond any description I can give here. I will never forget the satisfaction I felt that superseded any earthly one I've ever ever known. For a short period of time I've briefly dined at God's banquet table, and not a table of dread. When my Pastor asked the question that he did, I reflected on these memories. Does the abuse I experienced as a child and young adult at my family's supper table, the table of dread, hinder me in accepting everyday invitations to God's supper table of love in communion with Him?

GOD and THE FAVORITE PHOTO

-The Light of Navigation Series-

GOD, and THE FAVORITE PHOTO

The week was finally catching up with me emotionally and physically. The rush of arrangements that needed to be made was coming to a close. Last minute details were being straightened out. I was trying to get through just two more days. The state of shock during a traumatic event is a strange bedfellow. Shock is God's buffer for our emotional pain. The numbness is a norm for a time. Memory becomes intermittent, both short term and long term, or sometimes there is none at all. It returns slowly, but only after a season.

My son's close friends were putting together a photo and video presentation of my son's life that Friday night. It would be displayed during the funeral service scheduled for the following day. Family members speaking at the service, would chose a favorite photo to be displayed on the same screen as they shared loving words of remembrance. Here it was, the night before the funeral and I only had a small handful of photos that I had been able to bring. None of them stood out to me. I sat at the table that evening with my sister Mary, and a close friend, with the shock still impacting my memory.

Mary spoke to me and said, “What about your favorite photo? You know, the one of Randall standing in his crib?” I was stunned emotionally. I had forgotten completely about this cherished photograph. It was the “favorite” one. Every mother has this special picture that is held close to her heart above all others among a life time of photos taken. This picture of my son was taken in the early morning when he was a small child. I walked into his room to pick him up out of his crib as his little face was beaming with an angelic smile that greeted me, and his hair was standing on end! There he was looking out over his crib with his blue one piece pajama suit on. It was too late. It was the night before the funeral and I certainly could not fly home to retrieve it in time.

As Mary continued, she shared about God speaking directly to her the night before. He brought to her remembrance my “favorite photo”. The following day, unknown to me, she asked a friend to go to my home in Oklahoma to find the photo album that I had placed this picture in. It was then sent attached to a cell phone text. There it was, on time, my favorite photo to display when I spoke about my son that Saturday.

I was at a loss for words, impacted by what God had done ahead of time for me. I was at my most vulnerable point. In the midst of the grief I struggled to remember even the little things. What kind of God is this that knows what your favorite photo is? What God moves heaven and earth speaking directly to someone to make sure you have what is needed most? What kind of God-love is this that knows about and anticipates the choice of a heart's desire, ahead of time, when you yourself don't know about the future need? I will never forget this small, yet incredible move of God on my behalf. Indeed, I hope I never stop being awed about this facet of God's love. The following day, this photo silently spoke volumes up on that screen. It was about a mother's love for a child now gone, and God's loving fulfillment of an unknown, and unanticipated need. I could also see that God became my memory when mine had failed me.

GOD, THE THREE WITNESSES and the MESSAGE FOR ME

-The Light of Navigation Series-

GOD, THE THREE WITNESSES and......

As a Christian, by far the greatest challenge I faced when my son died was the uncertainty of where he stood with God. I heard him ask Christ into his heart and life as a child, but as a parent you wonder if it was a child's simple imitation of the parent's convictions at the time, or a true heart felt conversion. Did my son truly understand as a child, what asking Jesus into one's life is really all about? My son was in the throes of addiction at the age of 32. He seemed to live life as he pleased, and as far as I knew, not really giving God a second thought. I struggled deeply for several months after his death hoping for some sort of closure on this issue. For a time, questions pummeled my mind relentlessly. Was my son ok? Was he with God? Was he safe? I longed to know he was with God and not lost to me forever and that I would see him again someday. True to His nature, God answered my heart's cry as only He could.

One of the biblical laws established by God in the old testament and mentioned in the new, was the law regarding the two or three witnesses. Two to three witnesses were required to confirm the truth or facts of a given situation, an event, or to determine the credibility of an accusation leveled against someone. “......On the mouth of two to three witnesses a matter shall be confirmed.” And again, “This is the third time I am coming to you. Every fact (word) is to be confirmed by the testimony (mouth) of two or three witnesses.” (Deut. 19:15, 2 Cor. 13:1) We see this in our culture during court trials when witnesses are called forward to testify, or to “bear witness” about an event or person's actions. As Christians we know that this is one avenue that God will use to speak to us when we need confirmation on an issue or an answer to an important question we've asked of God. Two or three people, in succession, unrelated to each other, will confirm or communicate through what they speak, the same answer or direction God is giving. I have asked God for these confirmations on life issues and decisions many times over the years so I know I am hearing Him accurately. God wove into the week of my son's passing the three witnesses for me.

As I stood in the flower shop, shocked at being handed a bill at cost instead of retail for my son's funeral flowers, I began to see that God had arranged everything ahead of time. Every funeral arrangement being made fell into place seamlessly as well as all financial needs being met when I had none. I felt loved by God on a level I have never known before, and sensed His deep love for my son as well. A child like amazement was embracing me in every moment as God's love and grace carried me daily. I called my Pastor in Florida to tell him what God was doing. As I began to share with him what was happening he said...” Marguerite, God is confirming that your son is with Him.”

Pastor: Witness #1

The following day, the woman who had volunteered to sing for my son's funeral handed me what she said was my son's favorite hymn from the folder of music she carried. Randall frequently attended church with her and her daughter that he had dated, a few years before. As she handed the sheet music to me I was stunned and speechless. The first hymn I had learned as a child, which drew me to Christ decades beforehand,....I was now holding in my hands. It's title was “I'll Walk With God”. I had never shared this about myself with my son. I had not known that this too was his favorite hymn as an adult, until that moment, as the sheet music was handed to me. The funeral home's hospice pastor listened intently moments later as I shared with him this amazing “coincidence”. He said, “Marguerite, God is confirming that your son is with Him.”

                                                            

Hospice Pastor: Witness #2

At the end of the week I flew out of Florida and back home to Oklahoma. Randall's funeral was devastating for me, yet at the same time, an amazing, living demonstration of the movements of God and His love even in the midst of the greatest of life storms and tragedies. I also began to see with greater clarity, that He loves us even in the midst of our shortcomings, failures, and yes, lack of obedience. I thought to myself, how could this be? Could it be that there was an inherent undercurrent in my belief system that has seen salvation as more about performance, than God's love, and I had not recognized it? I began to realize through all of God's loving movement and confirmations the previous week, that I am guilty....guilty of performance in my walk of faith more than I knew, and that I was projecting it on to others too. My knowledge of the love of God was exposed as minuscule. My son gave me a gift in his death. That gift was the exposure of the underlying performance spiritually in my life. It was subtle and hidden. I am learning to let God love me, as I am, instead. It's not about what I do or don't do, though disobedience can bring great hardship or harm, but to Whom I belong. This is about trusting that God's love will never fail. God only can know the heart of a man, and we do not. By the way..... He can be trusted with that.

The evening I had arrived home on my flight, I decided to call a close friend who was also the personnel coordinator at my place of employment. I needed to inform her as to when I would be returning to work . When I began to share about the moves of God that had occurred, she startled me by abruptly interrupting me in mid-sentence and said, “Marguerite, God is confirming that your son is with Him.”

Personnel Coordinator: Witness #3

Then, eights months later, there was....

THE MESSAGE FOR ME

It was my first Mother's Day without my only child, my son. No card, no phone call. It was difficult. The holiday was on a Sunday this year. Needless to say, I grieved at church when they called the mothers forward for a special gift. I grieved openly again at a friend's home during the holiday mid-day dinner I had been invited to. When I returned home that afternoon there were Facebook posts of comfort from many friends who knew of my grief on this first Mother's Day without him. There was also one from my nephew too. As a result of my son's death, God had begun to lead him out of addiction in his own life during the following weeks and months. During the process of learning to follow Christ, he has at times, been flowing in the gifts of the prophetic or words of knowledge from the Holy Spirit and it was evidenced in this Mother's Day message he sent......

“Today is a special day! Today is the day that we celebrate one of the best things God gave us, and that's mothers! I know that you may be having a hard time today, but there is one thing that I know and that's that Randall is soaring with angels and He has left me here to remind you of that! I love you with all my heart and soul MOM and just wanted you to remember that our time here is nothing compared to the time we will share later! So let's thank Him for the little time and blessings we share now and enjoy this day He has given us here!”

J. Tsiatsos

Mother's Day Face Book Message

5/14/17

Randall L. Woodall 5/18/84-10/02/16

God's speed son.....

GOD, DELTA AIRLINES and BOTH ESCORTS

-The Light of Navigation-

GOD, DELTA AIRLINES and BOTH ESCORTS

It was 10:30 am when I arrived at the Mobile Alabama airport and I was headed home for Tulsa Oklahoma. The previous week was spent laying my son Randall to rest in Pensacola Florida. It was now time to turn in my rental car at the airport by the 11:00 am deadline. Unfortunately, my scheduled flight was not until 5:30 pm. that evening. The prospect of walking around the airport grief stricken for the next 6 hours felt like more than I could bear. My sister Mary had already flown home the day before. I was alone.

At Delta airline's ticket counter, I used my credit card to pay a $50.00 fee to be placed on stand by. With a brief prayer under my breath as I walked away I said, “Lord, I am so tired. I'm grieving so much for my son. Instead of leaving here at 5:30 pm. would You bring me home to Tulsa by then?”

In the terminal waiting area I approached Delta's gate desk to speak to the airline agent. “Were there any possible openings on any flights to Tulsa earlier than 5:30 that evening?” I asked. “No,” she said, and the pilot for the 11:00 am. flight this morning is mysteriously late, and we can't locate him.”

As I sat in the airport cafeteria, I thought about the arrangements made at the funeral home a few days before. The question of the availability of a police escort for the hearse and funeral procession to the cemetery after the funeral services was discussed. We were told there would be no escort. There were too many funerals in the area that weekend, and no police officers were available for my son's funeral. The funeral director, to his credit, had called twice and was turned down both times.

The lack of the police escort was hurtful. It is one last gesture of honor to the deceased and their family as they drive to the local cemetery and final resting place. God had made me feel like I was a daughter of a King, and my son, one of His beloved sons with His divine interventions on our behalf throughout the entire week. Every detail came together supernaturally, and not one need was left unmet. I remembered thinking that God would handle things His way, and no escort was ok.

As the funeral service concluded that Saturday afternoon, the funeral director came up to the front of the chapel and made an announcement. His voice boomed out loudly in front of the gathered crowd across the chapel room as he spoke. He said, “Mrs. Woodall, I don't know what friends you have in high places, but you now have your funeral escort.”

I was informed later that it was a retired sheriff's organization who volunteer as funeral escorts for V.I.P.s and dignitaries only.

As I reflected on this memory at the sandwich bar, a Delta airline representative approached my table thirty minutes later. I was handed airline passes thru to Tulsa with the arrival time of 5:30 that evening. It was the rescheduled flight of the pilot who had been mysteriously late and could not be found. It felt like a second escort home, just for me......

Unlike the pilot who was eventually found that day, something else never was.

The charge on my credit card for the standby fee.

My Father loves his daughter and her son, and I am humbled that He honored me.....

GOD AND CAPITOL ONE

-The Light of Navigation Series-

GOD AND CAPITOL ONE

I wanted to design the floral casket piece for my son's funeral. I had done this also for his father when he was killed in an accident on his job in 1988. When I was a scared 18 year old kid in 1974, who had left home to try and make it on my own, I was hired off the street by a prestigious flower shop in the downtown area of Boise Idaho and received my design training from two master florists. For many years afterward I've worked various floral shops in different cities that I've lived in. I came to Christ while working at one of those floral shops in Corvallis Oregon. The floral shop manager was married with two children, but also lived a secret life of homosexuality. A young couple moved into his neighborhood one day, full of God's Spirit and grace, and led him to the Lord. I saw a deep change in a man who had led this alternate lifestyle for half of his life. I bowed my head as I sat at my kitchen table one afternoon, and asked Christ into mine because of it.

The funeral home graciously gave me permission to do this casket piece in their employee's break room the day before the viewing. I had also notified my charge card company, Capitol One, about possible large charges occurring from out of state because of anticipated funeral expenses.

As I stood in the local flower shop with my sister Mary, I wrestled emotionally on the inside about using this charge card and desperately hoped the expense would not be too large to pay off in a short period of time. This casket piece would easily cost $400.00 or more. The flowers I chose to express my heartfelt love for my son, were expensive. I voiced the list of flowers and supplies needed to the floral shop manager and waited for the bill total to be given. The manager handed me her charges on a small slip of paper and it read $149.60. I was stunned. God had moved upon her heart to charge me for the cost and not the retail for the flowers. As I stood there overwhelmed with God's provision in those moments, Mary had received a phone call from a couple in Oklahoma. They had called to express their condolences and to inform us to that they had just deposited funds into my checking account for funeral related expenses. The amount was $150.00. God had paid for the flowers twenty minutes before I had the chance to and......

God doesn't need Capitol One.

(Phil 4:19)

As I pulled into my driveway in Tulsa Oklahoma 6 days later, having just flown back in from Florida, I remember feeling like I had barely made it through the previous weeks events. The sudden death of a loved one causes immediate shock emotionally. Sleep is difficult for a time, there is a battle with fear in feeling like you'll never be able to handle everything, and your memory, long-term and short-term suffers for a time before it gradually returns.

On my front porch, rested a large package that UPS had dropped off. I opened it after unpacking and there it was.... a beautiful grapevine wreath with dried flowers gracing it's curves. Then it hit me.... I had totally forgotten about taking home a live plant or fresh flowers for a remembrance, as families usually do from funerals, and in the same moment realized that the airline would not have allowed it. I broke down in awe of the God who remembered this detail for me when I did not. The loving God who knew I could not have taken something onto the plane flight, yet made sure that I now had that beautiful, cherished item of remembrance. My Father loves me and he loves my son.

And by the way, God will use Capitol One.