We all have them. Memories of traumatic events we wish would just “go away”. In my field of work, I hear the phrase Post Traumatic Stress Disorder way too much. I think we all experience PTSD at some time or another.

This world is full of sorrow. My husband is Pastor of Embassy of Christ Bible Church here in Western New York and we are preparing for our first church service in 3 months. I called my friend Nancy who bakes cakes. She says, “I stopped baking because of the Corona Virus”….and I said, “Actually, I want a cake with the virus on it!” I am picking up that cake to have for our refreshments after Sunday service so I will get a picture of it in a blog somehow. Anyway, Nancy told me of at least three tales of heartbreaking woe and sadness, of which all look like there would be no way out and these are not ones we’ll hear about on the COVID-lead news. I paused to think: Will the tragedies ever end?

Unfortunately, no. Suffering is part of life here on earth. Just look at the countless writers in the Bible, who were referring to the various misfortunes in this world like this passage from the book of Psalms.

Psalm 43 Vindicate me, O God, and defend my cause against an ungodly people, from the deceitful and unjust man deliver me!

For you are the God in whom I take refuge, why have you rejected me? Why do I go about mourning because of the oppression of the enemy?

Send out your light and your truth; let them lead me; let them bring me to your holy hill and to your dwelling!

Then I will go to the altar of God, to God my exceeding joy, and I will praise you with the lyre, O God, my God.

Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me?

Hope in God, for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God.

I absolutely love the Psalm writers…raw honesty, real anger, true pain and gladness, sometimes in same Psalm. This person, for example, bounces back and forth between despair and comfort, knowing that in the end of the trial, God will be his exceeding joy.

Exceeding Joy. Can we claim that in our lives? Here’s my life story for today.

In the fall of 2010, it became apparent to my husband’s family, that their beloved mother needed extra care. I had transferred to a different work location so I could help, but this lady was stubborn that at 80 pounds she was still scrubbing her floors herself even though she was very weak. And her husband (my husband’s stepfather) had been through several intensive surgeries to remove the cancer that was raging in his body and also had gone through chemo and radiation. His weight had dropped to nearly half of what it was.

My sister-in-law, who has a severely disabled son but was not working, took on the challenge and welcomed both of them into her small home.

I turned 40 that December, and my husband threw me a very nice surprise party. I remember noting that my in-laws were not at the party, and that was sad, but also happy that my sister-in-law and the rest of her family were able to be present. Little did we know what 2011 was going to bring.

For me, 2011 was one of the most stressful, intense years of my life.

In January, my father-in-law agreed to go into hospice care. Hospice care in the United States is deemed comfort care, compassionate end-of-life care when it is not feasible to have further treatments or surgeries. Ray had pancreatic cancer now.

My mother-in-law Pat became too much for my sister-in-law to handle, so she moved in with her brother and his wife. I remember being pulled in two different directions. The drive between Ray’s hospice home location and where Pat was staying was like 45 minutes. We watched the Super Bowl with Ray at the hospice home. It was the year his favorite team the Pittsburgh Steelers was in it, and they won the championship.

A few weeks after that, my husband’s mom agreed to hospice care. Through an amazing coordination of the folks in the hospice system, they found a home where both Ray and Pat could be together. This hospice home had only two rooms so it was perfect.

My husband Gary and I had decided to get a third dog in January of 2011. At that point we had an aging German shepherd/husky mix (our first pup) who was having health problems and a full-sized Labradoodle and I had been badgering my husband about “layering” a new dog on so that our younger dog would have a playful companion. So in January we went to a pet store in our area because we were thinking we would try a smaller dog this time.

Goliath the Cavapoo entered our lives and hearts. I remember that we had to cut through a big department store to get back to our car that cold January day, and all kinds of people stopped to see our new baby. He was so cute and fluffy!

He went everywhere with us but work. He even visited at the hospice home! I became very attached to the little guy and experienced a lot of anxiety that something would happen to him. I thought about him constantly, in a sort of weird obsession. He was a little stinker and got away with everything, but everybody loved him.

In March, Ray passed away. In April, our older dog Milo, passed away. In May, Pat passed.

They say things like that happen in threes…

In August my brother-in-law invited us to come to see him and his wife in Florida. So we went. We asked my younger sister-in-law to watch the dogs at our house and off we went.

The trip was a time of healing from all the trauma we had suffered. We came down to the last night of the week-long trip. We had dinner in John’s Pass which is near Treasure Island, FL. For anyone who is not familiar with this area in the Tampa bay watershed, the dolphins come out to play as the evening comes. This night was no exception. We all walked up to a viewing spot on the bridge to enjoy the free dolphin show.

So peaceful! So much fun! There were five us up there together just taking pause to enjoy God’s playful sea creatures.

My husband’s cell phone rang. He took the call and as he was talking, he walked away from me and finished the conversation out of my earshot.

I thought, “Something has happened to my Goliath!”

Long story short, Goliath had run out of the house and had been fatally hit by a car.

Long night that night. Sleepless. Our flight was leaving early afternoon the next day. I could not be comforted. There were a lot of tears.

It is difficult for me to put into writing what the Lord showed me in those 24 hours prior to coming home to a very stressed out Labradoodle. But God was very clear to me: Put no idols in place of ME.

Put no idols in place of ME? But Lord, I didn’t!

Yes, you did, my child! I am the Lord your God. You shall have no idols before Me.

I did the best thing I could do. I surrendered. I repented from my sin of holding on to something so tight and for putting it ahead of my God. And out of the tragedy, God provided hope and blessing.

He is AMAZING like that.

We got home on a Friday. On Saturday we were able to return to the same pet store and there was Nino, waiting to come home with us. He is the same kind of dog. And he is half brother to Goliath.

His name is a derivation of the name of John, which means, “God is gracious”. He turns 9 years old on this Saturday the 13th.

That’s right. He gives and takes away, but if He is taking away, He always–out of His infinite love for His children–leaves something better.

And I grew. It was a painful year, but I grew. I gave all of the pain and sorrow and trauma to Him and He renewed me like I would not have thought possible.

In 2017 I was diagnosed with Chronic Lymphocytic Leukemia. That quickly became a potential idol. I needed to know how I could handle this illness myself, what foods or supplements would cure! I was holding on too tight. I just needed to relax (as much as is possible!) and allow God to do what He does best. I surrendered. I grew. Then, and only then, was I able to learn to praise Him in this illness. My prayer for you is for the same peace and joy in the midst of the struggle.

Though He slay me, yet will I hope in Him! Job 13:15