My father’s side of the family has an inauspicious history of heart disease over the generations, and recently, my part in the story came due. Men in my family tend to die at or before the age of sixty-five from heart attacks or other heart-related issues. I’m only fifty-four, but the family history has long hung over my head like a sword of Damocles. My dad had a heart attack around his mid-fifties, so I felt the clock ticking. In my early forties, I consulted with a cardiologist over consistent heart palpitations (due in no small part to my affinity for energy drinks). I subjected myself to a rigorous stress test and emerged with a clean bill of health. I wiped the sweat off my brow and went my merry way. But the ghosts of family past continued to haunt me. My primary care physician retired last year, so I visited a new PCP in my community and quickly informed her of our family’s history of heart disease. She suggested I have a calcium scan done. I had never heard of this procedure, but decided it wouldn’t hurt. A calcium scan detects calcium deposits in or around the heart arteries, though it does not necessarily indicate blockages or their severity. The scale runs from 0 to 400, with risk severity divided into 100-point increments. I scored a 656! Off the charts! My brow furrowed with concern. My PCP recommended me to a cardiologist, and we had a consultation. He suggested calcium scores are not necessarily indicative of dangerous blockages. Calcium can build up outside the arteries without obstructing blood flow. He recommended an angiogram procedure whereby they insert a catheter through the vein in my wrist and navigate to my heart. They then inject a dye and, using X-rays, they see how well the blood flows through my major heart arteries. The cardiologist informed me that if blockages are detected, he would insert a stent to open the blood flow to my heart. One or more stents may be necessary. It sounded easy, fairly painless, with the end result being peace of mind about my overall heart health. Without hesitation, I signed on for the procedure. They scheduled it for a Monday morning.
Continue readingCategory Archives: Trials & Tribulations
Requiem
Kamber Shenae Doback-Lucas
Job’s friends had the best of intentions when they sat down with him in the ash pile remains of the life he had built for himself. Job mourned the loss of his vast wealth and personal health, but most of all he mourned the loss of his seven sons and three daughters. See, God permitted Satan to afflict Job and take away all that he cared about. Satan sought to turn his soul away from the God he adored. In the end, Satan’s challenge ended in failure. Job’s heart remained steadfast. But this does not mean Job did not suffer greatly – he did: He endured doubts and anguish. He had many burning questions, but no answers. He questioned his own integrity. He lost the will to live. His friends were no help at all. In fact, they blamed Job for his miseries, claiming God blesses the righteous and curses the wicked. And since Job had experienced unprecedented disaster on every side, they could only conclude he had sinned greatly and should repent for his wicked heart. However, we are told in the opening verse of the book that Job was blameless and upright, one who feared God and turned away from evil. Later in the story, another friend, younger in years, but more accomplished in wisdom joined the conversation. He rebuked Job’s three friends and explained how God sometimes uses human suffering to purify and teach us things in a way that no other means will suffice. He counseled that it is our duty to humble ourselves under the mighty hand of God in those moments.
Continue readingOvercoming Evil with Good (Testimony)
I know several people have requested to see this video testimony of God’s faithfulness in our lives through adversity and suffering, so here it is.
The Uncelebrated Birthday
Our family will be observing a special birthday this Sunday. It will be different from all others. There won’t be a colorfully decorated cake to cut. We won’t have any candles to blow out. There will be no stack of presents to unwrap. The sounds of laughter, clapping and singing won’t be heard. No pictures will be taken, no lasting memories will be made. It will be a birthday empty of celebration, yet full of sorrow.
It is the third birthday of my grandson, Nash. He won’t be present. He has fled his mortal shell. The victim of a horrific act of evil, our little red-headed boy was taken from us far too soon. We feel the sting of his loss anew every single day. The weekends are far too quiet. The house far too clean. His toys far too dusty. His birthday also marks the sixth month anniversary of the incident that took his life. The pervasive sense of sadness and loss will never leave us. It is here to stay; a cold companion who hovers in the shadow of our daily lives.
It’s difficult to process all the images and emotions of that fateful time in late October. I cried like a baby at his beautiful funeral service. The tears have never flowed so freely as it did watching the captured memories of his brief life come across the screen. The procession to the grave site was a surreal experience. Flanked by hordes of bikers (there to shield us from potential protesters) we drove by the university where I work. There, outside to my left at the football stadium I saw something I’ll never forget. The entire football squad stopped practice, faced the procession, took a knee and bowed their heads in unison. I trembled in awe at the show of respect for our grandson. I’ll always treasure that moment.
At the conclusion of the graveside services a strange sensation came over me. As the line of people paying their respects to the family dwindled, a wave of peace washed over my spirit. It didn’t make sense to me. In the midst of my lowest moment, staring at the miniature casket about to be lowered into the ground, my faith in God and His goodness stood unshaken. The tangle of mixed emotions momentarily confused me. The new sentiment didn’t make sense to me within that context. It didn’t compute. Peace? At at time like this? How? Why? I couldn’t fight it. I couldn’t reason it away. It just was. God, in that moment granted me a peace that surpasses all understanding. Honestly, that sense of acceptance and tranquility has never left me. I think I know why. Continue reading
A Peculiar Pilgrim 