Seventy

Dear UD,

Seventy years ago you were born. Seven zero. Seven decades. Seven times ten. The world welcomed you for sixty-one years. Seventy minus nine.

 

“Minus,” a simple word, holds so much. Less than. Subtracted by. Diminished. Changed.

 

You, mom, dad, the others gone so soon…those of us who remain are changed by the subtraction. Our lives altered by your absence on this earth, but also transformed by your example in our lives.

 

Your years are over, and you are all missed so much. Yet your legacy and love and lessons live on in those you touched, live on in our memories, in our hearts, in our descendants.

 

For nine years, I have written letters— words to remember you all, words to share your lessons, words to honor our heritage.

 

Thank you, Uncle David, Mom, Dad. We wouldn’t be who we are without you, and we are grateful.

 

Love, Rach 

Signs of Spring

"I stuck my head out the window this morning and spring kissed me bang in the face. " 

~Langston Hughes

Dear UD,

 

I walk around the lake, grateful for the cooler temps and the sunshine peeking between rain clouds. The trees are green, and ducks dive for fish creating a gentle splash in the water. For a few moments, I forget the war in Ukraine, the rising gas prices, the astronomical increases in rent, the lower student enrollment impacting schools around the country, and the tumult over the recent pandemic.

 

In this moment, I’m just a woman walking in nature, putting one foot in front of the other as I breathe deeply and enjoy the crisp breeze.

 

One step. And then the next.

Abruptly, I spy green shoots springing up through the dirt, and I am stunned. Paralyzed by an overwhelming grief that sprouts from my heart and throughout my body. Signs of spring will always and forever remind me of you, Uncle David, and of mom, and I didn’t expect to see that one here in Florida. I kneel down, gazing at this reminder of beauty, hope, and renewal. A reminder of you and mom. So many memories flood my mind of hunting for signs of spring with you and mom. As I pause to take it in, the grief flows through and out, and I am filled with memory and love.

 

Today is your seventh birthday in heaven, UD. Seven birthdays without you here on this earth. Seven years of missing you. Same for dad…seven birthdays without him, seven years of missing him. And this year brings the fourth birthday without mom, four years of missing her.

 

Every day, I still miss you so much, miss mom, miss dad. Wish I could talk to you all again, share birthdays together, eat your specially crafted omelet and mom’s homemade rolls, play Bridge or Spades, and hear your voices and laughter. Each year that passes both dulls the ache of the loss yet sharpens the twist of living life without you. How I wish you had all had more time with us here. How I wish you were all here now and part of DJ’s life. I know you all watch over him from heaven, and he will know you all through memories, lessons, legacies passed down from you to me to my daughters and now to their children.

 

Happy birthday, UD. Thank you for the memories, the foundation of time together and unconditional love, and your model of creativity and excellence.

 

Love, Rach

Shelter in Place

Dear UD,

Five years from last weekend I was sitting at a local theater production in Willow Springs, Missouri to watch Laina perform in The Little Mermaid musical. Mom attended with me as did some siblings and nieces and nephews. Mom treated us to dinner afterwards as we celebrated the success of the play and performance. We were so happy that night. Together and secure in one of those moments of

sanctuary in the midst of the storms our family faced.

Alaina and I were in Missouri then because that semester, I was sheltering on the family farm, living in the upstairs section of my childhood home. I had returned home in time to have a couple of weeks of quality time with Dad after he went on hospice, and I had stayed to help Mom with all the small details that come when someone leaves this earth. I remember phone arguments with cable companies refusing to close his account, boxes and boxes of Dad’s extensive collections of CDs and DVDs that I shipped off, a red cattle trailer filled with Dad’s eclectic collection of books, a thorough cleaning and painting of Dad’s room, and a shopping trip for furniture to remake the space into a bedroom for me. A mere eight months before we lost Dad, Grandpa died. Born in April of 1918 (during the first year of the Spanish Flu), he lived for 96 years. A three-time war veteran, he was a Naval officer for 30 years before retiring to work the century family beef farm for the next thirty plus years. Grandpa was a constant and comfort all of our lives, and suddenly he was gone. And not even a year later, Dad was gone too.  

Those two deaths heralded the beginning of a new normal for me and my family.

Uncle David, I remember you and I talking about how the death of a parent would bring new roles and expectations within the family system. After losing your mom, Grandma Bonnie, when you were in your twenties, you understood all the dynamics. We discussed how the death of a parent not only changes the family dynamics, roles, and standings, but also changes the way we see ourselves and the way we experience the world. The way our shelters become unhinged. The way our moorings begin to loosen.  A new normal. My God, how I hated the idea of that. Unfortunately, it was only the cusp of “new normals” one after another after another that we would soon face.

Earlier that April, I remember celebrating spring with Mom, Laina, Jill, Sarah, and various nieces and nephews as we went on a mushroom hunt one stormy April day. We walked down the gravel road to Possum Creek before hiking into the woods. We spied a turtle just out of hibernation, still covered in mud, and spring buds and wildflowers. A garter snake slithered by, scaring us for a moment. Not finding any morels, we walked back home and past mom’s gardens (both the vegetable garden we’d helped plant and the flower garden full of spring flowers from seeds and bulbs you sent her) and into a field on the family farm, then down to the river behind the house. For hours, we hunted and laughed and searched and teased. For hours, we spied signs of spring but no mushrooms. The storm hit, and the rain drenched us as thunder boomed and lightning struck. In the end, we found morel mushrooms growing right by Grandpa’s old house, now Sonny’s place, and next door to Mom’s. How you loved that story. I can still hear echoes of your infectious and hearty chuckle. But that afternoon was another moment of sanctuary where we were safe and together.

On a Tuesday, a few weeks after the mushroom hunt and a couple of days after the performance, I called to talk to you, UD. I remember sitting in the new La-Z-Boy chair in Dad’s old room, my new abode, and chatting about my lesson plans and your dogs and asparagus shoots. The family was still getting used to the new normal after losing Dad and Grandpa, but I found shelter in my conversation with you and in our connection. You weren’t feeling your best, so we didn’t talk long. I told you to get some rest, and as per usual, we both said, “I love you.” Those were the last words I would ever hear from you, say to you. I love you.

 

Two days later, on April 28, 2015, I was grading papers at home when Mom called to tell me you died. I will never forget that gut-wrenching moment when I found out that we all lost another anchor in our lives, another shelter, another piece of our hearts. You loved us and guided us and taught us, and I didn’t know how we would move on without you. Another new normal already, only four months later, and I honestly just wanted to punch anyone who talked about getting used to that. Nothing can replace someone special in our lives. Nothing can replace the love, the connection, all the parts of the relationship that help make us who we are. There are no words to describe the deep loss and hole that blossomed into our lives that April day.

Within the next two years, so much changed as we adjusted to the losses and the grief. In the end, I had a full-time job and was back in Florida while Mom moved into a smaller place on the family farm and gave Ben our childhood home. At her new location, Mom worked to create another flower garden with bulbs from you and planted asparagus which takes two years to start producing. As much as we could, we had adjusted to this new normal, but our hearts would never be the same. Our lives would never be the same. We would never be the same.

Then, in November of 2018, Mom was diagnosed, suddenly and horrifically, of stage-four cancer. Within six weeks, we lost her. Again, our hearts shattered, our lives changed, and we had to start a new normal as orphans. Again, but even more severely, I went through it all—shock, horror, denial, fear, anger (lots of anger), anxiety with sleeplessness and panic attacks. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t settle. I wasn’t okay at all, but I was going through the motions day by day. I didn’t settle into a “new normal,” but I threw myself into my work and sought out adventures with siblings and friends.

“Really it was her mother she’d wanted to call right after the bad news, or in the middle of it... First thing in the morning, last thing at night, whenever a fight with [her daughter] left her in pieces, it had been her mother who put Willa back together. When someone mattered like that, you didn’t lose her at death. You lost her as you kept living.” Barbara Kingsolver, Unsheltered

Four months after losing Mom, my youngest daughter moved out unexpectedly, leaving me dealing with the empty nest on top of the still-raw grief of losing Mom. Another new normal in such a short time. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t settle. I couldn’t even see the point of living anymore. I don’t mean that I was suicidal because I wanted to live, but I couldn’t see hope or purpose or meaning in any of it. All I could see was deep pain. A pain that didn’t stop, never healed, and continued with loss and loneliness.  

UD, I don’t even have a new normal from all of that yet. I have tried some different things like hosting an Italian student for the school year and visiting my family in Missouri more, but now, I don’t even know what to think.

It’s a hundred years since the birth of Grandpa during the Spanish Flu Pandemic, and now we are in the middle of the Covid-19 Flu Pandemic. The world is shut down, and we are under a shelter in place mandate.

Now everyone has a new normal. Everyone is dealing with a public and collective grief and new normal, and it is bizarre and surreal.

I fluctuate between these—1. missing you and Mom even more, wishing I could talk to you both about this and feel that sense of security that came from having you both in my life. 2. not even thinking about my personal grief as much. Not because it is gone or because I have healed but because I am in survival mode and just trying to cope with too much uncertainty and loss.

Collectively as a nation, as a world, we’re sheltering in place, but we have no mooring, no guarantees, no sanctuary. We are, in a sense, “unsheltered.” Everything is changing for everyone all around the globe, and we don’t know when or how things will settle. We don’t know who will survive or what the world will look like when this pandemic is over. We don’t know exactly how it is impacting countries and people individually or what the end of it will bring for each country and person.  As one character living during contemporary times reveals in Barbara Kingsolver’s new novel, Unsheltered, “…taking all the right turns had led her family to the wrong place, moneyless and a few storms away from homelessness.” With too many Americans living paycheck to paycheck like this, what is going to happen to them in the next few months, in the next couple of years?

As another character from Unsheltered says, this one living during the 1870s, “We are given to live in a remarkable time. When the nuisance of old mythologies falls away from us, we may see with new eyes. … Without shelter, we stand in daylight.”

UD, sheltering in place is hard. Living without shelter is also difficult. Doing either without the sanctuary from you, from Mom is agonizing and challenging. As I pondered on everything that I wanted to tell you, two Bible verses came to mind, thanks to the strong example and foundation from Mom during my childhood, and these verses brought some comfort. Psalm 28:7 states, “The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and he helps me. My heart leaps for joy, and with my song I praise him.” The other is one of Mom’s favorite chapters in the Bible: Psalms 91.

Psalm 91: Safety of Abiding in the Presence of God

91 He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High

Shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.

² I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress;

My God, in Him I will trust.”

³ Surely He shall deliver you from the snare of the fowler

And from the perilous pestilence.

⁴ He shall cover you with His feathers,

And under His wings you shall take refuge;

His truth shall be your shield and buckler.

⁵ You shall not be afraid of the terror by night,

Nor of the arrow that flies by day,

⁶ Nor of the pestilence that walks in darkness,

Nor of the destruction that lays waste at noonday.

⁷ A thousand may fall at your side,

And ten thousand at your right hand;

But it shall not come near you.

⁸ Only with your eyes shall you look,

And see the reward of the wicked.

⁹ Because you have made the Lord, who is my refuge,

Even the Most High, your dwelling place,

¹⁰ No evil shall befall you,

Nor shall any plague come near your dwelling;

¹¹ For He shall give His angels charge over you,

To keep you in all your ways.

¹² In their hands they shall bear you up,

Lest you dash your foot against a stone.

¹³ You shall tread upon the lion and the cobra,

The young lion and the serpent you shall trample underfoot.

¹⁴ “Because he has set his love upon Me, therefore I will deliver him;

I will set him on high, because he has known My name.

¹⁵ He shall call upon Me, and I will answer him;

I will be with him in trouble;

I will deliver him and honor him.

¹⁶ With long life I will satisfy him,

And show him My salvation.”

UD, I don’t know what will happen, but I realized that, as distressing and difficult as this all is, I can stand strong in the foundation that you and Mom provided. The love and conversations and guidance from you still sustain me. The love and time together and everything Mom taught me still nurture me. And all of it shelters me.

Love, Rach

Gifts from the Sea

 Today, a month later, I walked outside again. When I drive over to the beach, I enjoy walking outside. Overall, anywhere, anytime I love walking outside in nature, but more than any other place, the wilderness of the Missouri Ozarks speaks to me, feels like home. When I’m there in Missouri, I tend to take walks outside more often, but I finally made it to Melbourne Beach this morning. I took a walk along the beach, hunting for seashells, snapping photos, and listening to the sounds of the seagulls and waves.

So far, this year has been rough. January was filled with too many anniversaries, and not the good kind. And too many conflicting emotions and too many new hurdles to handle. Not to mention too much work and too much time alone. It’s strange because I am an introvert who loves having time alone and loves several passive activities (reading books, writing, etc.); however, since losing Mom and becoming an “orphan,” I find it difficult to be alone for too long.

But today, I took a beach walk alone and found much to be grateful for. Even though it’s an overcast, gray day, it was gorgeous outside. The fresh breeze invigorated while the crash of the rolling waves refreshed. As I walked barefoot in the wet sand, I realized that everything is okay in this present moment. I left the beach feeling energized and even happy, and I am thankful for the gifts from the sea.  

Big Piney River

            Today, I hiked along the Big Piney River and up the hill at Simmons Baptist Camp in Houston, Missouri with my Italian exchange student, two nephews, and a niece. We explored the river, forests, and cliffs during our forty-five-minute walk, and I skipped rocks and even found one rock with a hole all the way through it like Mom always looked for when at the river.

The 2019 Christmas holiday season was our first one without Mom, which was difficult to say the least; however, it helped to celebrate it with family. Furthermore, I was dreading entering the New Year because it is the first one we are starting without Mom in it. But here it is. For reasons that I will write about in a future post, I am choosing to focus on Gratitude this year.

Today, I am grateful for time with my family in Missouri during the holiday season and especially for everyone who opened their home to me during my stay. In the past, I always set up camp at Mom’s house, so it was different this time. And, I am thankful for the fifty-degree weather and sunshine this afternoon as well as the beauty of nature in the Missouri Ozarks. I love taking walks here year-round, and when near a river, I always end up wading, no matter the weather. Finally, I am so grateful for finding the rock with a hole because it reminds me of Mom and how she lives on in all of us.

Happy New Year!

Mom, A Thing of Beauty

Dear UD,

I’ve been dreading this November because last year’s November was the beginning of the end. A

year ago, Mom was healthy and alive, and everything was just fine. A year ago, we were oblivious and happy. Yes, Mom hadn’t been feeling well for a while, but she’d been working with a doctor, and we had no idea that cancer had taken root deep inside. It was late November, a year ago, when, a day after my birthday, we got the news that she had cancer. Six weeks later, she was gone. We lost her. And now we face the first November without her.

So, even trying to think of thinking of thankfulness and gratitude, of finding a thing of beauty every day this November, is painful. Difficult. Unthinkable.

But, UD, during my time of trying not to think of thanking, something occurred to me.

Mom was beautiful.

She was beautiful on the outside, and she was beautiful on the inside. She had a beautiful smile, her spirit was beautiful, everything about her was absolutely beautiful. Did she know it? Did she know and feel her beauty? Did she know that I, her oldest daughter, found her beautiful?

I thought about skipping "a thing of beauty" this year, but now I realize that I have to do it in honor of her. I want to find a thing of beauty every day this month, and I want that thing of beauty to be something for or from my mom. From what she looked like to what she did for people to what she believed to memories I have of her to shared experiences and adventures. This month, I want to explore and honor mom and everything beautiful in and of her.

Did Mom know how beautiful she was? Did you know? Do I? Do any of us really know how beautiful and precious we are?

I hope so.

UD, one of the things that I find beautiful about Mom was her connection with her siblings. You, Mom, and Uncle Bob were the three musketeers, the three stooges, the amigos. When the three of you were together, you were hilarious, fun, unstoppable. Uncle Bob is always the class clown, while Mom was the athletic showoff, and you were the smart goody-two shoes. But, you bound together and loved each other well and loved us well, and you all showed us the importance of family, of

frivolity, of faith.

Mom and her connection with you and Bob, her siblings—what a thing of beauty.

Love, Rach

PS: I hope that everyone who reads this will go and tell people you love how beautiful they are and how grateful you are for them in this world and how thankful you are to be sharing space with them right now.

Mothers Carry Love

Dear UD,

It’s May, the month of mothers, May flowers, and graduation celebrations.

“I remember all the flowers you picked for me for Mother’s Day,” Mom said when I stayed with her last December. I remember too. I see me at 14, walking the family farm, hiking the rivers, climbing the bluffs, clutching a fistful of Missouri wildflowers. Purples, yellows, whites galore, but on I walked, searching for the rare red ones to round out the bouquet. Every year until I married and moved away, I brought Mom a handful of colorful wildflowers.

The past two summers I stayed with Mom in July, and even then, I hunted for wildflowers to bring her. Wildflowers and rocks with holes in them. I just realized that I don’t know why rocks with holes were so special to her, but she collected them so we searched for them anytime we walked or swam the rivers.

And now there’s a hole in my life because she’s gone.

I never even contemplated a Mother’s Day without Mom. Incomprehensible. Inexplicable. Inconceivable. Completely and utterly unfathomable. Unimaginable. Unbelievable.

At least not this soon. Not this quickly. Not when she was only in her sixties.

Aidan is graduating this month, and his Granny won’t be there. An empty seat that should be filled. An empty place that once was filled. That only months ago would have been filled. A generation of grandkids who will miss her, some who may not remember her. Unthinkable. Unacceptable. Unbearable.

This week is rough, UD. I’m heartbroken. All the time. Everything reminds me. Makes me sad. Everything, everything, everything.

Mom is irreplaceable. Rare. Exceptional. She is loved and missed more than words can convey.

Moms are life; they give birth to new beings. Moms are selfless; they sacrifice for their offspring. Moms are home; they offer grounding, place,

and foundation.

It’s Mother’s Day, UD, and we’re motherless. Motherless, without a mom here on this earth. Motherless—no synonyms, substitutes, replacements for mothers. Motherless for the rest of our lives. How do we go on from here? You lost your mom, Grandma Bonnie, in your thirties. How did you do it? How did Mom?

But you had each other, and we had you both. It’s so lonely without you, without Mom. I miss her voice, her fresh garden vegetables, her smile, her cooking, her advice, her adventurous spirit, her welcoming and giving service to everyone. I miss her presence here on earth, knowing I could reach out and she would be there. Knowing I had someone on my side, always. Knowing I had a place to go, no matter what.

One of the most precious lessons I learned from Mom is this—to include and welcome everyone.
Mom never met a stranger, and her home was always open for those in need. Like a mother hen collecting chicks, Mom surrounded herself with those who needed. Always, she gave, fed, welcomed. Her love carried on her hands as she gave to others. Her love carried on her heart as she shared with others. Her love carried on her prayers as she remembered everyone.

And now, UD, even though we are motherless, heartbroken, devastated, and inconsolable, we must survive, remember, and band together. Through the tears and grief, remember Dad, you, Mom. Through the pain and sorrow, remember the moments we treasure. Through the anguish and loss, remember the lessons and love from you all. Together we stand stronger. Together we welcome others. Together we carry love on our hands, hearts, and prayers.

Love, Rach

PS: Thanks to my sister Jill Adams for some of these nature photos.

Faith Over Fear

When your mom has been healthy all her life and she starts feeling badly and you tell her to go to the doctor and she finally goes to the ER in a bigger city after months of local doctors not helping, you don't expect to hear words like “cancer” and “stage-four” and “incurable.” Especially when she's been seeing medical professionals locally for the past three months and has repeatedly been given prescriptions for antibiotics to treat simple infections. While the medicine hadn’t been working, you don’t expect to go from “simple infection” to “incurable cancer” in a matter of months.

However, that was the news we received this week, and we are still in shock and experiencing many emotions. My emotions are rolling around like a nightmarish rollercoaster where they are knocking into each other and tumbling over and over again and there's nowhere to go and there's no end in sight: disbelief, anger, sadness, a sense of unfairness, heartache, fear. So much fear.

Plus, I am the only one not in Missouri right now, and I feel so helpless and powerless and alone.

When we were waiting for test results last weekend, before we had heard the C-word, I was at a church retreat and heard a Bible verse that spoke to me. It felt as if God was saying to trust, that everything would work out, that my mom has a lot more living to do. Then, the worship team started singing, “Do it Again” by Elevation Worship, and I held onto these words from the song:

I've seen You move, You move the mountains

And I believe, I'll see You do it again

You made a way, where there was no way

And I believe, I'll see You do it again

Since then, we have received some of the results and Mom had an outpatient surgery that is helping her start to feel better. Now we're still waiting for more tests and more results. Waiting is so difficult, not knowing is so difficult, worrying and wondering is so difficult, and all of it can create fear.

We have already had so much loss in the past few years, and I don't see how… I don't accept another one. Sometimes it feels like anytime life is starting to feel free or good again something horrible happens in my personal life. That brings fear that things will never be okay.

Fear—it all comes back to this word, this feeling. Worry, stress, anxiety, fear. How much of my life have I given to this? How much will I continue to give?

More and more, I'm learning to lean into God and turn it all over to Him. To rest in His words and His promises and to be comforted by songs of His love and His healing and His amazing strength that we have if we just accept. In “RecklessLove,” Cory Asbury sings of how God loves us so much that He “leaves the ninety-nine” (John 3:16) to chase after us with His “overwhelming, never-ending, reckless love” and claims:

There’s no shadow You won’t light up

Mountain You won’t climb up

Coming after me

There’s no wall You won’t kick down

Lie You won’t tear down Coming after me

In “Our God,” Chris Tomlin sings that “Our God is Healer, awesome in power” (Exodus 15:26), and in “StrongEnough,” Matthew West sings about how we “can do all things through Christ who gives” us strength (Philippians 4:13).

This morning, I found a quote in my Facebook memories that affirms what I have been pondering this week: “Feed your faith and fear will starve to death.” ~Les Brown

Fear or faith. Do we choose fear or faith? The Bible says if we have the faith of a mustard seed we can move mountains (Matthew 17:20). I choose faith that God can do anything, that God can do the impossible, that God is the Healer. I choose faith. God told me that Joy comes in the morning and that prayers are answered (Psalm 30). I choose faith. Jesus said that if we ask, it will be given (Matthew 7:7). I ask that God heal my mom. I pray that God cures my mom.  I believe that God can heal my mom, that He can give her complete healing, that she is already healed. In Mark 5:34, “Jesus said to her, ‘Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering’.”

Also, I submit the situation to God. In Psalm 147: 3-5, it says, “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. He determines the number of the stars and calls them each by name. Great is our Lord and mighty in power; his understanding has no limit.” I know that He heals and I know that His understanding is beyond me and I know that I trust him, that my faith will be rewarded. If it is God’s Will to heal her as I choose to focus on, I'm even more blessed. However, if what I believe and have faith in does not come to pass, if it is God’s Will to take her home sooner than I want, then I will have spent the remaining time with my mom in a positive frame of mind. A mind of faith, mind of belief, mind of hope, mind of peace. I choose living in faith, hope, peace, love.

I choose faith.

Every day, every morning, every moment, I have a choice. From now on, I choose faith.

Faith & Peace

I am confident in what I hope for and have assurance in what I do not see. Hebrews 11:1

So faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ. Romans 10:17

“Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you.  For everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened. Or what man is there among you who, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will he give him a serpent? If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask Him!” Matthew 7:7-11

Just as Jesus stood in the boat and spoke to the storm, I too can stand in the midst of the storms in my life and rebuke the winds and the waves to command calmness in my life. My faith overrides all my fears. Matthew 8:26

I activate my mustard seed of faith and say to this mountain of sickness and disease in my life, “Be removed and go to another place.” Nothing will be impossible to me. Matthew 17:20

Because You have anointed me, I have faith and do not doubt that I can speak to any illness, curse it at the root, and cause it to dry up and die, just as You did to the fig tree. I also know that if I tell to this mountain of sickness that is in my way to move and be cast into the sea, it shall be done. Matthew 21:21

That your faith might not rest in the wisdom of men but in the power of God. 1 Corinthians 2: 5

And this is the confidence that we have toward him, that if we ask anything according to his will he hears us. 1 John 5:14

For God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control. 2 Timothy 1:7

So the Lord said, “If you have faith as a mustard seed, you can say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be pulled up by the roots and be planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.” Luke 17:6

“Most assuredly, I say to you, he who believes in Me, the works that I do he will do also; and greater works than these he will do, because I go to My Father. And whatever you ask in My name, that I will do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If you ask anything in My name, I will do it.” John 14:12-14

And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:7

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. Philippians 4:13

The Lord is on my side; I will not fear. What can man do to me? Psalm 118:6

So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. Isaiah 41:10

The Lord Himself goes before you and will be with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. Deuteronomy 31:8

Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go. Joshua 1:9

Though an army besieges me, my heart will not fear; though war break out against me, even then will I be confident. Psalm 27:3

I sought the Lord, and he answered me; He delivered me from all my fears. Psalm 34:4

Cast your cares on the Lord and He will sustain you; He will never let the righteous fall. Psalm 55:22

For you did not receive the spirit of bondage again to fear, but you received the Spirit of adoption by whom we cry out, “Abba, Father.” Romans 8:15

God’s Love

How precious is your unfailing love, O God! Psalm 36:7

Have mercy on me, Lord, for I am faint; heal me, Lord, for my bones are in agony. Psalm 6:2

See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands. Isaiah 49:16

The Lord your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing. Zephaniah 3:17

For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life. John 3:16

God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Romans 5:8

But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ— by grace you have been saved. Ephesians 2:4-5

See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are. The reason why the world does not know us is that it did not know him. 1 John 3:1

Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God. Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love. 1 John 4:7-8

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Jeremiah 29:11

Healing & Safety

“I am the Lord, your healer.” Exodus 15:26

Lord my God, I called to you for help, and you healed me. Psalm 30:2

Hear, Lord, and be merciful to me; Lord, be my help. You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy. Psalm 30:10-11

The Lord protects and preserves them— they are counted among the blessed in the land - he does not give them over to the desire of their foes. The Lord sustains them on their sickbed and restores them from their bed of illness. Psalm 41:2-3

My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. Psalm 73:26

Praise the Lord, my soul, and forget not all his benefits - who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion. Psalm 103:2-4

Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble, and he saved them from their distress. He sent out his word and healed them; he rescued them from the grave. Let them give thanks to the Lord for his unfailing love and his wonderful deeds for mankind. Psalm 107:19-21

I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of our Lord. Psalm 118:17

He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. He determines the number of the stars and calls them each by name. Great is our Lord and mighty in power; his understanding has no limit. Psalm 147:3-5

But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed. Isaiah 53:5

‘I have seen what they do, but I will heal them anyway! I will lead them. I will comfort those who mourn, bringing words of praise to their lips. May they have abundant peace, both near and far,' says the Lord, who heals them. Isaiah 57:18-19

You will restore me to health and let me live. Isaiah 38:16

Then your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear; then your righteousness will go before you, and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard. Isaiah 58:8

Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed; save me, and I shall be saved, for you are my praise. Jeremiah 17:14

For I will restore health to you, and your wounds I will heal, declares the Lord.  Jeremiah 30:17

You have redeemed my life. Lamentations 3:58

Jesus said to her, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering.” Mark 5:34

And He laid His hands on her, and immediately she was made straight, and she glorified God. Luke 13:13

And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:19

Come close to God, and God will come close to you. James 4:8

Is anyone among you sick? Let him call for the elders of the church, and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord. And the prayer of faith will save the sick, and the Lord will raise him up. James 5:14-15

Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed. The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much. James 5:16

He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Isaiah 40:29

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. John 14:27

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. Matthew 11:28-30

Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you. Hebrews 13:5

Psalm30 The Blessedness of Answered Prayer

I will extol You, O Lord, for You have lifted me up,
And have not let my foes rejoice over me.
² O Lord my God, I cried out to You,
And You healed me.
³ O Lord, You brought my soul up from the grave;
You have kept me alive, that I should not go down to the pit.

⁴ Sing praise to the Lord, you saints of His,
And give thanks at the remembrance of His holy name.
⁵ For His anger is but for a moment,
His favor is for life;
Weeping may endure for a night,
But joy comes in the morning.

⁶ Now in my prosperity I said,
“I shall never be moved.”
⁷ Lord, by Your favor You have made my mountain stand strong;
You hid Your face, and I was troubled.

⁸ I cried out to You, O Lord;
And to the Lord I made supplication:
⁹ “What profit is there in my blood,
When I go down to the pit?
Will the dust praise You?
Will it declare Your truth?
¹⁰ Hear, O Lord, and have mercy on me;
Lord, be my helper!”

¹¹ You have turned for me my mourning into dancing;
You have put off my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness,
¹² To the end that my glory may sing praise to You and not be silent.
O Lord my God, I will give thanks to You forever.

Psalm 23 The Lord the Shepherd of His People

The Lord is my shepherd;

I shall not want.

2 He makes me to lie down in green pastures;

He leads me beside the still waters.

3 He restores my soul;

He leads me in the paths of righteousness

For His name’s sake.

4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil;

For You are with me;

Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.

5 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;

You anoint my head with oil;

My cup runs over.

6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me

All the days of my life;

And I will dwell in the house of the Lord

Forever.

Psalm 91 Safety of Abiding in the Presence of God

91 He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High

Shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.

2 I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress;

My God, in Him I will trust.”

3 Surely He shall deliver you from the snare of the fowler

And from the perilous pestilence.

4 He shall cover you with His feathers,

And under His wings you shall take refuge;

His truth shall be your shield and buckler.

5 You shall not be afraid of the terror by night,

Nor of the arrow that flies by day,

6 Nor of the pestilence that walks in darkness,

Nor of the destruction that lays waste at noonday.

7 A thousand may fall at your side,

And ten thousand at your right hand;

But it shall not come near you.

8 Only with your eyes shall you look,

And see the reward of the wicked.

9 Because you have made the Lord, who is my refuge,

Even the Most High, your dwelling place,

10 No evil shall befall you,

Nor shall any plague come near your dwelling;

11 For He shall give His angels charge over you,

To keep you in all your ways.

12 In their hands they shall bear you up,

Lest you dash your foot against a stone.

13 You shall tread upon the lion and the cobra,

The young lion and the serpent you shall trample underfoot.

14 “Because he has set his love upon Me, therefore I will deliver him;

I will set him on high, because he has known My name.

15 He shall call upon Me, and I will answer him;

I will be with him in trouble;

I will deliver him and honor him.

16 With long life I will satisfy him,

And show him My salvation.”