Dear Reader

“Unto the upright there ariseth light in the darkness; he is gracious, and full of compassion, and righteous.”* (Psalm 112:4)

I was working at tearing off old siding on a Friday, and had banged myself up a few times, so I wasn’t surprised that I felt stiff and sore around my torso when I went to bed. The next day I worked at the remodeling again, and the soreness seemed a little worse. Then, the next day my wife looked at my back and told me there was a rash that looked like poison oak; there was a spot on my side and front like it. It didn’t make a lot of sense, though—it was beginning to feel like a bad burn (no itching), and it was all in places under my shirt, so I couldn’t see how I got all that exposure to poison oak without getting it on my hands or arms.

We thought through various theories, such as the possibility of an allergic reaction to something I had been working with, but in the meantime, the burning, aching feeling was getting worse, and I was having more trouble sleeping. We prayed, and asked the Lord for help to get good out of the trial and take care of the injured skin properly, and for an end to the trial as soon as possible.

Then Wednesday night came. I don’t remember experiencing such deep, aching pain in my life, and found my muscles tightening up until my head hurt, and the night was passing without any rest. I took a hot shower, and the pain subsided some, but still no sleep. My wife wasn’t getting any sleep either, and was getting a bad headache. We prayed earnestly for each other. A dog kept barking, and trains roared by. Finally, about 1:30 am, I got the heating pad and lay on it, and my body relaxed enough and the ache subsided enough for about a two hour stretch of sleep. The heating pad had almost given me a burn, and I took it off then. More prayers, the Lord took my wife’s headache away, and we both managed another hour or so of sleep.

During this battle, I had found myself praying earnestly for a man I knew who was trying to keep bread on the table for his family but had injured his back badly and was in constant pain. I also found myself praying more earnestly for many needs around.

The next day, we noticed the blistered areas were crusting up and the rash growing less, and thanked the Lord. My daughter prepared a plantain and aloe vera plaster, which my wife applied and wrapped me up in sterile gauze and bandages, and we looked forward to better sleep. It didn’t work out that way—the pain was less, but the sleep was less, too. The discomfort stayed just enough to keep me from sleep, and near midnight, I removed the bandages and gauze (it was rather binding). At that point, the overall discomfort was a little less, but still sleep would not come. I prayed, and again with a greater burden and compassion for those in constant discomfort, and finally came to a place of quietness and waiting upon the Lord. A little before dawn, I dropped into sleep for about an hour, and then got a couple more short naps in.

Then the Lord brought before me the scripture that is quoted above. The Lord prepares the upright for the work He gives him. This trial, this darkness, with light “arising”—slower than I’d like, after more suffering than I’d prefer—was illustrating to me the compassion, the patience, and the longsuffering God has in working with folks. The affliction is growing less (as of a week later), but much slower than I’d naturally like. In the ministry the Lord has called me to, there is great need for grace to overcome my natural desire to see and feel rapid progress, and for grace to continue bearing with problems I thought were already solved, but pop up again and again. There is graciousness and compassion and righteousness in the lives of those, who after the image of our Savior, have borne sorrow and suffering in serving the Father. I desire to gain the full benefits the Lord has for me in this trial.

I still don’t know where the affliction originated physically, but I know the wisdom of my Heavenly Father in permitting it and having my light “arise slowly.”

Love and prayers,
The Editor