Brenda Rodgers

Category: Faith

  • Chronic Illness Made My Marriage Better . . . or Worse?

    The other night I skipped downstairs while my husband was watching the PGA golf tournament.  A commercial was on, so I knew I had a small window to ask the question.  It was a question that already had a “right” answer, but I just wanted to make sure he knew what the right answer was.
    “Do you think your illness made our marriage better or worse?”

    He didn’t hesitate in giving me his answer, and as he did my forehead scrunched up, and my face said, “What?”

    He told me that he thinks it made our marriage worse because it was just too much all at once – moving, new jobs, and then a heart transplant.  He went on to say that he just didn’t have the patience needed for a new marriage.  But, he also said that it did teach him a lot about me and my loyalty to him as his wife. 

    That wasn’t the right answer.  Well, at least not the first part.  But the commercials were over, and my window of time passed, so I didn’t ask him to explain any further.

    Before asking my husband that question, my thoughts were that his illness definitely made our marriage better. Yes, it was stressful, and not something that most couples have to endure for quite a long time if ever, but it made us quickly realize the true purpose for marriage.

    As I mentioned yesterday, I went into marriage knowing that it wouldn’t solve all my problems, but secretly hoping that it would.  I think that most people, even the wisest, have that little seed of hope deep down that maybe, just maybe, this will be it – the one thing that makes all things good.  We all have a tendency to search for God outside of His presence. 

    When faced with a life-altering experience, however, like a chronic illness that could lead to death, this hope in things other than God is quickly shattered, and you realize that God is all you have.  There is no longer hope for your own happiness, your own fulfillment, your own comfort.  Your hope becomes your ability to lay down all of yourself for another person, and you have no choice but to do just that.

    Only a short time after our wedding God took our vows and peeled them back to their bare bones.  There we got a tiny glimpse of The Cross – and the purpose for marriage.  Marriage is God’s way of helping us experience His love for His Son and the sacrifice of His death on the cross.  It’s purpose is to sanctify us through laying down our lives for each other, over and over again, in continual sacrifice, just like Jesus laid down His life only once for us.
    Some people are never saturated in this kind of love, but this is the love of our Father.  If we live a life of sacrifice in our marriages, we get to experience what His love for us to truly like. 

    My husband and I didn’t have a choice, and this was the gift of his illness.  So, did it make our marriage better or worse?  I would say better.  Definitely not easier, but better because now we have the taste of sacrificial love to fall back on.  

  • Chronic Illness and a New Marriage

    Being single into my early thirties I still, deep down, bought into the hope lie that marriage would make everything better, that it would solve most of my problems, and even if it didn’t at least I wouldn’t be lonely anymore and maybe I could have children. I knew better than to think this. I was warned. But from the outside looking in at all of my friends’ marriages, it looked so easy. Easier than being single, anyway, and that’s what I wanted.

    Within two months of our new marriage my husband and I had both moved to a new state for the first time in our lives, both started new jobs, and both heard the daunting news, “John, your heart cannot take the Cardiomyopathy anymore. You will have to have a heart transplant.” With those words my easy vision of marriage exploded, and I was thrown into a world I did not expect. Yes, I knew that John had Cardiomyopathy before I married him, and I honestly think God protected me with naivety so that I would not run from the purpose He was preparing me for, but I still went in with blurred eyes of blissful perfection, and my ideal quickly erupted.

    Recently I was asked how chronic illness has affected our marriage, so this week I am going to share my experiences. I want to give the caveat that my story in no way compares to many others. For us there was an end, and the ending was miraculous. However, through our process with John’s sickness and transplant, I continually thought of the many people who live with chronic illness every day without much hope, other than a miracle, for full recovery. I think often about the parents with children who have chronic illnesses and adult children who take care of their aging parents. The stories are endless. Being in the hospital with John for forty-three days, I saw enough faces of these people to know that they are the real sacrificers, laying down their lives for those they love day-in and day-out, and they need our prayers.

    Please join me each day as I share my experiences with chronic illness in my marriage, and please share your experiences as well. More importantly, let’s pray this week for the countless number of people who each day lay their lives down in order to care for those they love who are sick. Let’s pray for their strength, their perseverance, and for continued hope.

  • God as a Mighty Wave

    It’s been three years since I’ve experienced God as a mighty wave crashing into the shore and then dissipating into white foam and moving backwards into the expanse of the sea. 

    As I watch the water and sand come together, and I peer out to where the sky and ocean meet, I think about the thousands of years represented in the very place I stand.  A place once uninterrupted by human hands with only the mark of His hands. 

    The ocean water dominates the earth just like He is dominate over all of life.  Each wave, as its peak gets higher, and right before it falls, shows God’s eagerness to conquer our souls.  Then the crash comes, and He takes over.  He washes over us, our grit and grime of the sand.

    Then there’s the calm.  The calm of patience where His might subsides and the wave turns to nothing but a slow moving pool.  As the pool hesitates His patience takes part of us and forces us back into the expanse of ocean water with Him once again.  The draw towards Himself is subtle.
    Until the crash of the wave comes once again conquering our souls all over again, bringing us back to Him again.  

    For ever since the world was created, people have seen the earth and sky. Through everything God made, they can clearly see his invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature. So they have no excuse for not knowing God.”
    Romans 1:20

  • Content with Bare Walls

    China, linen napkins, holiday dinnerware, special candles, that perfect black dress, the earrings your grandmother gave you.

    Are there things in your life that you keep hidden, tucked away, only to be seen on the “special days” that are just a little more special than all the others?

    Recently as I was cleaning the house I noticed all around me pictures and decorations that I have not yet hung on the walls.  We have lived here three years.  I know very well why I had not hung them yet.

    I was waiting.  Waiting for that “special day” when my house would be perfect with colored walls in each room.  Then I could make it home.  After the paint settled.

    As I looked at these things that I love and that bring so much joy when I look at them, I realized how often I wait and wait and wait  for perfection and in the meantime miss out on the enjoyment of what I have today.

    The problem is that perfection will not come in this life.  And as I anticipate it showing up at any time, what is here now becomes waste.

    My walls are still bare with the same dull white color that they were when we moved in, but yesterday became a special day.  I stopped waiting, took out the beautiful things around me, and made those bare walls perfect with my blessings.

  • Wholeness on Bended Knees

    Join me today for 5 Minute Friday with The Gypsy Mama where we write for five minutes on a given topic.  No editing. No criticism.  No worry.  Today’s topic is: Wholeness

    There are so many places we go in our quest for wholeness.

    In our homes we look around and say, “No, not here.  Only if I had something bigger.  Grander.  Something that would turn heads and create awe.”

    So we leave that place that was supposed to be a safe-haven of peace and go on our journey to find wholeness elsewhere.

    We stop at the place that pays us money.  Money to get the things our house lacks.  But in the back of our minds we think to ourselves, “No, this can’t be it.  Does this really matter?  Is this really making a difference?  Will this last?”

    So on we go to the next thing along the road.  The road’s getting long now, and the hills are getting high.  Maybe this is where it is.  Maybe this object, substance, person, mindset is where my wholeness will be found.  Except that they are really idols.  And no, I know, only temporarily will I find wholeness here.

    So back I go to my original place and in that house that isn’t quite right I bend my knees until they touch the ground.  I cry out, cry out begging for something that will last, that will never change or go away.

    And there it is: Wholeness – wrapped around the words to my Savior.

  • Remembering: Hold Me Up for Miracle #1 – Day 16

    This week we remember John’s road to a  heart transplant.  I wrote this on this day last year. This is the day he was put on life support and we received our first miracle of surviving that surgery.

    Photo Credit

    I walked into my biggest fear this morning.

    John’s staph infection caused another Arrhythmia, but this time one that he could not come out of. His blood pressure was dropping and his temperature was rising. When I got to John’s room, the doctors were already convening to decide what to do. His weak heart could not fight this infection. We were losing John.

    The doctors decided to put John on a form of life support called ECMO (Extracorporeal Membrane Oxygenation). This would allow his body to rest so that the antibiotics could fight his infection. However, being put on ECMO required a surgery, and one that was risky because John was so weak.

    As soon as I got the the waiting room, I began to send texts, messages, and posts begging for prayer. I sat there numb as I cried out to God in my head and read Psalms.

    I said to God that I know His will is perfect. I know that He will sustain me no matter what happens. I know that John is His. But I also told God that I really want John here with me. I begged Him in that hour to save John’s life because I would miss him too much if I lost him. I told Him that I needed John in my life.

    The hour was long and grueling.

    Finally, John’s surgeon came into the waiting room and sat down beside me. It was like, in that moment, all life in the room was still. All breath was gone. The air was stagnant. I felt suspended with nothing below to catch me if I fell. God was holding me up.

    The doctor proceeded to tell me that John was now on life support. The surgery to get him connected to it went o.k. However, he emphasized that John was very, very sick. ECMO was a very short term solution. John had to get a heart in 4-5 days. The fact that John survived this surgery is a miracle from God because he was not expected to survive it.

    About an hour later, I went to see John. At the end of his bed was a huge machine. There was a perfusionist who’s job was to sit there and control the ECMO machine. It looked like a simple job, but from what I understand it is very complicated and highly skilled.

    I rubbed John’s hair like I do at home. I told the nurse’s he knows when I’m here because he feels me rubbing his head. I talked to him and told him how much I love him. I asked him to keep fighting for me and for him. I prayed with him. I held back my tears, and if I had to cry I walked outside the room for a second. I don’t want John to be scared or worried.

    So now I am praying for John to get a heart this weekend. He still has to clear his infection before he can be transplanted, so by this weekend he should be ready. I am still very sensitive to all that this entails and what I am really asking, but I know that God has an ultimate plan that has been in place for a long time. I just pray that one of the hearts that become available matches John. I never thought that John may not make it in time. I have heard countless stories of people who run out of time before they get a heart. But I never thought that would be John.

    Through it all I know that God is in control. I did not know this road that we would take, but He always did.