Karen`s letter

Dear Cynthia:

I’m not sure you will see this letter, but I hope my message of gratefulness finds its way to you. I recently read “My Story” online and your openness about your life and your relationship with Jesus has helped move me through a very difficult time in my life.

Let me try to share a little of my own story. A little more than 26 years ago, the Lord brought into my life the most wonderful, Christian young man. I had been a Christian since age 11 and was quite shy and awkward. Okay, I was the proverbial wallflower. Alan was handsome, intelligent, and loved the Lord with a passion I had never seen in a young man. Eight months after we met, we were married. Everything about my life changed. We built a home of peace and love.

We grew to be so much a part of each other that you couldn’t tell where he began and I ended. We worshipped and served the Lord together. And even though we didn’t have tremendous wealth, everyone marveled at our contentment. The Lord also blessed us with three beautiful children, a daughter and two sons. Our children came to know the Lord as their Savior, each at an early age. Life wasn’t always easy, but we walked through all the joys and sorrows as a threesome: the Lord, Alan, and me.

God used Alan’s passion for the Word to make him a tremendous Sunday school teacher at our local Southern Baptist church, and I worked with children and led the Women’s Ministry. Eventually Alan was ordained as a deacon. No man has ever been more honored, not by having a position of leadership but that the Lord saw him as worthy enough to serve people on a greater level. I never dreamed that I could ever be so happy on this earth.

So what could change all this? Brain cancer. About seven years ago, Alan collapsed on the floor of his office in a grand mal seizure. It was so violent that he almost died right on the spot. Someone called me from the office and put the paramedic on the phone. He would not tell me what was going on—just that Alan was unconscious and had to be taken to the nearest hospital immediately. I called our church, and the secretary (who was a good friend) rushed over, picked me up, and drove me to the hospital. Alan was in a daze and the doctor came in the room with the results of a CAT scan. It showed a huge black shadow in the center of his brain. You would think at that moment I would have fallen apart, but there was so much peace in me. I looked at the doctor and simply said, “We have a problem.” The next few days were a blur of hospital tests, doctors, and a biopsy. Alan changed that day. No one else would know it by talking to him, but I knew. Since then, I have often said that my husband died on November 10, 1997. His body just didn’t know it.

The next four years were such a nightmare. This sweet, loving husband and father grew dark, angry, and violent in private. He was given 80 doses of radiation, but eventually they had to remove most of the right temporal lobe of his brain. Our life at home fell into shambles. I fought so hard to hang on to him. But I had to take him to countless appointments, keep track of up to 25 different medications at a time for him, mother three scared adolescents, go back to college to get a degree to start a career, and work part-time to make up for the loss of income while he was on disability.

The book of Job and I became best of friends. Sometimes it felt like Satan had walked into the throne room of God and the Lord said, “Have you noticed my servants, Alan and Karen?” In the end, we lost virtually everything that mattered. Alan lost his mind, our kids lost their father and their security in God, and I lost the other half of who I was.

Most of our friends faded away, and his mother and brother felt that since it was so painful, it was my responsibility to deal with it all and they refused to help. Many women told me that their husbands walked away because they could not deal with the fact that God would allow something like this to happen to someone who loved Him as much as Alan. I will confess, as he was getting worse, I fell apart. There were many things I did that I’m sorry for now, but I can’t turn back the clock.

By the time our oldest child, Rebecca, graduated from high school in 2001, Alan had been in and out of the psychiatric ward three times and had tried to commit suicide once. One month after her graduation, he had a stroke. It left him as a severe Alzheimer’s patient. He lives in a nursing home now. He doesn’t know us. This has truly broken our children’s hearts and almost destroyed both of our sons.

Alan knows my name, but he is mostly like a small child who only understands that I love him and will take him out for ice cream. There are so many things that I’m not telling you because this letter would become a book. Suffice it to say that God has been there all through this with absolute miracles of reassurance and grace. And God has waited quietly at the very times my anger, pain, and exhaustion got in the way of wanting to listen to Him.

So I’m sure by now you are wondering what this has to do with you. The road to healing for the children and me has been long. Each day life gets a little better. Acceptance has replaced most of the anger. We are all able to smile and laugh again, but I know there is still a ways to go.
One day about two months ago, I was having lunch at my desk at work. I’m now a writer and editor for our local newspaper. I went to the Insight for Living Web site to read the daily devotional. I clicked on something and suddenly my screen went black. When it came up, it was at your testimony, “My Story.” I must confess that when I first started reading it, I thought, “This is Cynthia Swindoll; how difficult could her life possibly be?” Then I read the rest and I asked the Lord for forgiveness for my pre-set attitude. I went home that night and listened to the entire broadcast (both days) and printed out two articles on forgiveness that were also available on the Web. Your lesson on forgiveness lay heavy on my heart. I hadn’t thought about how angry I was with so many people for not being there when I thought I needed them. But even worse, I knew that I too needed forgiveness.

So I took a room at a nearby Holiday Inn Express and had a friend stay with my sons. I printed out your story plus the other lessons on forgiveness. When I arrived, I took a shower, got into my pajamas by 7:00 p.m., and sat up that night until 3:00 a.m. I was armed with my Bible, my journal, a legal pad, and the printouts. After a time of prayer and praise, I dove in. I asked the Lord to show me all of my sins over the last seven years. Much to my dismay, the list filled the page quickly. I then went through and prayed over each sin asking God’s forgiveness. When I finished, I took the piece of paper, folded it over, and printed 1 John 1:9, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness” (NIV). I then thanked God for forgiving me of so much, tore the paper up, and threw it into the trash.
Then God gave me Hebrews 6:9, “Even though we speak like this, dear friends, we are confident of better things in your case—things that accompany salvation” (NIV). The next step was to make a list of those people I knew I needed to forgive. I hadn’t realized until that moment how much hurt and anger I harbored against some people, especially my mother-in-law and brother-in-law.

My first thought was to choose not to forgive, because they didn’t deserve it for all they had done to Alan and the children. Then the Lord reminded me of how much He had just forgiven me. That settled it. I journaled each person’s name and my perceived offenses. Then I prayed for God to help me forgive each one. When I finished, God gave me Matthew 7:8 to remind me that “For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened” (NIV). I sought Him, asked for His help, and He opened a wellspring of forgiveness and peace within me.

But the hardest was yet to come. The last list was of those from whom I needed to ask forgiveness. And of course, the hardest ones on my list were my in-laws. God showed me that if I wanted to put these past seven years to rest, I needed to open the doors of others’ hearts by approaching them with humility. No arguments, no excuses, just simple humility. At the end of that prayer, God gave me Proverbs 3:5-6, “Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight” (NIV).

I wasn’t quite as brave as you. I started where I was most secure, with my children. I then worked my way through other relatives and friends, and finally I asked forgiveness of the ones I feared the most. Everyone, in turn, forgave me. Many of them laughed and some were even a little surprised. I won’t say I am any closer to my mother-in-law or brother-in-law, but there is definitely peace between us. And more than anything, there is finally peace between the Lord and me.

Our daughter, Becky, and her husband, Matt, are due to have our first grandchild in June. Our middle son, Ken, is still in college. Both have a strong faith in the Lord, and I believe this time in their lives will be a testimony to God’s grace on this earth. Our youngest child, Dan, is finishing high school in June. He is a wonderful, loving son; but he is my prodigal where the Lord is concerned. One night in a torrent of tears, he told me that he doesn’t believe in God because no loving God would ever let something like this happen to his dad. My heart aches for him, but I have told him that I will always love him and that I am not afraid of his anger and neither is God. I told him that God does not let go of that which He has taken into His care. Dan accepted the Lord when he was five. He knows the Scriptures well. And I know in my heart that God will restore his faith someday, and it will be a great testimony.

I know that whatever the second half of my life brings, it will continue to be wrapped in God’s perfect will. He called Alan and me to this place to fulfill His purpose. I pray to be faithful enough to do just that. The doctors have said that Alan could stay like this for a day, a week, a month, or 10 years. They don’t understand why he is still with us now. The children and I agree that when the Lord calls him home, it might be sad for some, but for us it will also be a celebration knowing he is finally in the arms of the Savior he adored. I have no doubt in my mind that my computer glitch was meant to send me to your story. Hours later, I went to tell a friend where to find your story, and it took me five minutes of clicking to find it. You helped me to take the next step in this journey. For that, I want to say thank you and may God continue to bless your witness and your testimony to His glory.

With sincerest gratitude,
Karen

Read Cynthia`s Swindoll`s story at
http://www.insight.org/site/News2?page=NewsArticle&id=8519&news_iv_ctrl=1963