Entering into Another's Pain

When I was in high school, my friend Judy's mother died of cancer. I never mentioned it. I didn't send a card, go to the funeral or give her my condolence. I pretended it didn't happen. Why? It wasn't that I didn't care. I thought it was horrible and spent sleepless nights wondering about Judy and her little brother and how they would manage without a mom.

I just couldn't go there. I couldn't enter into that pain. I was afraid that if I mentioned it Judy would suddenly remember, "Oh yeah. I forgot. My mom died." How ridiculous of me. Who could ever forget that her mom is no longer in the house, doing laundry, on the phone, or just there?

I may have been able to go my whole life without showing sympathy, without lending a hand, without listening to a heart but God had other plans.

Amy was in kindergarten so I just had Erica with me when I went over to Susan's house* to get the organic eggs and free-range chickens I had ordered from Mr. Rehmer. I'd never met Susan so introduced myself and Erica as we entered. Susan gathered my chickens and eggs and said, looking at Erica, "How old is she?" I told that her that she was three. Susan pointed to the mantle. "That's a picture of my daughter Bethany when she was three. I thought they were the same age."  I admired the photo and asked Susan how old Bethany was now and if she were in school.

"Bethany died of cancer the year after this picture was taken." There was no place I could go to get out of that pain. It was staring me in the face. I couldn't change the subject, walk away or make a joke (my usual way of dealing with unpleasantries.) I sat down and asked her about her daughter.

Susan's face filled with rage. "I did EVERYTHING I knew to do! I ate healthy foods during pregnancy, took no medications, nursed. I fed her only organic foods.  There is NOTHING I did wrong and Bethany died!  What does your faith have to say about that?"

Apparently word had gotten around that I was a believer.  Actually my faith was quite new at the time. I had accepted Jesus as my Savior when Erica was a year old. Instead of telling her about my faith, however,  I asked her about her daughter. I asked to see photos, to hear about cute things she did. I simply listened and entered into Susan's life. I entered her pain by listening to her tell me about the life of her child.

I got ready to leave feeling that I failed in offering a word of faith to the grieving mom. Susan stopped me and touched my arm. "I wish that I just could touch the hem of your garment! I wish that I just had a shred of your faith!"

My faith? I didn't share my faith. I just listened. I was simply a friend. I learned that day how to enter the door of pain.  No one SUDDENLY remembers her loved one died when we ask about things they did in the past. They don't forget; not for a minute. It is my experience that people love talking about that dear one, love getting out pictures and going over anecdotes.

I went back several times to visit Susan and to talk about Bethany. It was a blessing to me and a huge lesson that has kept me all these years since. I can enter the pain of another and it will never be a burden to me but a precious blessing to both of us.





*not her real name

How did a Jewish Woman Like Me Fall in Love with Jesus?

I grew up in a reform Jewish community with a rabbi whose entire family except for his wife and daughter had been killed in the Holocaust. He escaped after the urgent plea of a friend who said, "Get out!" Rabbi Richhter was brilliant and beloved. He was fluent in 8 languages. He was----rabbi! I had a longing for God as a child. I remember going to see Ben Hur with my religious school class. We had a wonderful teacher, Dan Goldman, who took us everywhere!  He took us to Christian Science church, to the Unitarian Church, to movies and to Chinese restaurants. I was twelve when I saw Ben Hur. I was stunned, struck, and motionless when I saw the encounter between Jesus and some others...a woman? a man? all I remember is the outpouring of love that flowed from Him and the longing that flowed from me. But I'm Jewish! Jewish girls don't believe that, so I put it out of my mind. We got back to Sinai Temple the next week and I asked Rabbi Richter what (looking back at it) maybe have been an offensive question. "Rabbi, why aren't there any real men of God anymore?" I followed it up with another question. "When are we going to learn about God?" Rabbi spoke eloquently about ethics, political events, societal issues--but I never once heard him talk about God. He looked at me with what I can just describe as sorrow. "Cheryl. You aren't ready to learn about God."

I went away to college and was in a dormitory with some Pentecostal girls who kept talking about the 'Spirit'. As a joke three of us went with her to church one evening. The pastor met us at the door. I'm sure they  had been alerted to the Jewish girl coming in. He pumped my hand and said, "We have so much in common with you people." I thought, "You have nothing in common with me." He asked us all to stand during the service and said, "Come on down. The baptismal tub is ready." I rolled my internal eyes and looked for the door. As my eyes scanned the room I saw women all over weeping on their knees and I thought, "What a homely bunch of weird women." Many years later I realized that those dear souls were praying for me!

On a trip home to Michigan City that summer I went to the LaPorte County Fair. A woman was handing out little books. She handed one to me as I passed. "Here dear. Here's a Bible." I barely glanced at her and said, "No thanks. I'm Jewish." She stepped closer and smiled broader. "Oh but dear. This Bible is especially FOR the Jews." I thanked her and as I turned the corner threw it into the trash.

Back at college I noticed a line in the newspaper. "Jesus loves the Jews. For more information call................" So I did. "Hello. This says Jesus loves the Jews. Is this true?" Then came the sweetest, gentlest voice. "Yes. Yes it is true. Dear are you Jewish?"  I said, "No!" and hung up the phone.

I  married  a Jewish man and  moved to Ohio and then to St. Louis. I was teaching French at McClure High School. There was a zany art teacher who was in the office at the same time I was during all-school testing. Because he was art and I was French we had no responsibility during testing. I noticed a piece of sculpture he held and said, "Oh! I love art." He asked me downstairs to see his classroom. The walls were filled with beautiful scenes which all showed pastel skies. When I commented on the lovely skies he said, "Cheryl three years ago I found the Lord Jesus Christ and made Him my Savior. He healed my marriage, got rid of my demons and totally changed my  life." I thought this guy was the height of crazy---even worse than the Pentecostal pastor. At least the pastor was in a church. This guy was spouting off about Jesus in a school of all places.

I left his room disgusted and couldn't wait to get home and report him for preaching in a school! I was driving home and got to Washington turning right onto Derhake and suddenly SUDDENLY SUDDENLY Jesus Christ was sitting in my passenger seat! It was He! There was NO DOUBT ABOUT IT! He spoke. He said, "I am Who they say I am. I am the Son of God."  I started sobbing! I was weeping and could barely see to drive. Jesus showed me scene after scene of when I denied Him. I said NO to Him at age 5 when I was saying prayers at night and said, "What if Jesus really IS Your son?" and quickly shook my head and said, 'No Jewish girls don't believe that. (click. onto the next scene)  The time I went to the Pentecostal Church and mocked the pastor's invitation. (click) The time I saw the scene of Ben Hur but knew He wasn't for me, a Jewish girl (click.) The time I hung up on the man from the newspaper. (click) The time I threw away the Bible at the state fair (click). It was relentless. Scene after scene. Denial after denial. I said, "Jesus I don't even know Who You are but I am following You the rest of my life." At that time I felt that following Him meant giving up my precious Jewish faith. But I chose. I chose Jesus. I chose Jesus even though I KNEW that I was going home to a Jewish husband who would be livid, would be calling Jewish parents who would be heart broken. I chose Jesus. But I have found out since then that I am still Jewish. I am  Jewish woman head over heels in love with Jesus!

Don't be ashamed if you're sad!

I was reading Isaiah 53 today. Jesus was a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief. These days artists are circulating popular and engaging sketches of a happy Jesus throwing babies in the air, surrounding Himself with friends, enjoying relaxed fellowship. These days people seem to make happiness a priority. Billboards sell products promising how 'happy' they will make us. Psychologists' appointment calenders are filled with people wanting to be 'happier'. Enter a church, "How are you!" We had better register 'happy' on our faces or we are suspect. 'Hmm. Been sinning? Into porn on the side? Not reading your Bible enough?' After all, Christians are supposed to have 'happy' as their trademarks. Yet Jesus was a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief. The Bible recorded that Jesus wept over Lazarus. I know a pastor that won't allow his congregation to weep at funerals! Honest! I was there! It was the funeral of a little girl who died of cancer. There were some tears and the pastor SHARPLY rebuked the child's loved ones for not 'celebrating' her death because she was with Jesus in heaven.  Jesus wept over Jerusalem. I have been in services where a famous evangelist said, "There's a wave of laughter moving across the auditorium! Don't you feel it?" No. I didn't feel it. Jesus wept. The Bible recorded two weeping incidents, but it also said that if we wrote all the activities of Jesus there wouldn't be room in the world for them (loose paraphrase but one of you can find the reference.) So could there be times that Jesus wept that are not recorded? I love that Women with a Vision is devoting one morning a week to dealing with deep heart issues that bring tears. There is nothing shameful about tears. The Word (somewhere) says that God keeps our tears in a bottle. When I am praying, meeting with Jesus, often--very very often I find myself weeping. I am so grateful that my heart is broken! I want to love Jesus so much...not a quick 'peck on the cheek and out the door' kind of love but a leaning into Him, listening to His heartbeat and never wanting to leave kind of love! No! I'm not starting a new trend of weeping nor judging those who are laughing! I love to laugh. I can even entertain people by being hilariously funny! But I never want to forget that Jesus was a man of sorrows acquainted with grief. He is acqainted with YOUR sorrow and YOUR grief.  Yes, Jesus took ALL every shred of our anxiety, care, shame, humiliation, sorrow, grief on the cross. We can walk in freedom from all of those negative emotions that can paralyze us.  BUT I never want to ignore those feelings. I want to grieve with those who are grieving. I even want to suffer with those who have lost homes and loved ones in disasters. I want to hold those who are barely able to put one foot in front of the other because of their own inability to stand. I want to help them to stand! That takes being ACQUAINTED with grief. That takes being willing to be in the company of women of sorrows. Dear precious loved one, if you are grieving or full of sorrows write to us! Write a message on our discussion board at Women with a Vision's facebook page and let women minister to your heart. You are loved! If Jesus was a man of sorrows acquainted with grief how dare we stay away from women who hurt!
Cheryl Skid
founder and president of Women with a Vision
P.O. Box 693 Florissant, MO 63032
cherylskid@gmail.com
facebook Women with a Vision
and Cheryl Samelson Skid

Sabbath Rest

Christian Educators of America published this devotional I wrote a couple of years ago. A teacher just wrote to thank me and that's how I found out! Here it is:

Scripture: Remember that the Sabbath Day belongs to me. Exodus 20:8 (Contemporary English Version)

Ah! It's Friday! What a relief to know that the five day week has come to an end.
Thank You Lord for a job that gives me two full days in a row with no busy-ness. Help me, Lord, to take advantage of Your Sabbath rest. I'm so aware Lord, that there are many workers who have to grab a Sabbath rest here and there. There are nurses, doctors, retail clerks, restaurant employees who have to work long hours and week-ends. For them there is no two day guaranteed Sabbath rest.
Lord, let me recognize distractions from that rest. Let me see things that can wait. Let me take for myself a nice stretch of time to just enjoy Your presence.
As I sit here on a Friday afternoon before anyone else is home, listening to the wind chimes outside my door, I rest. I rest here listening. I listen to the wind and the chimes and the quiet, and I listen to You. Father God, I ask that You restore my soul for next week and that no matter what course I'm teaching, You give me creative ways to teach what really matters to You! Help me find creative ways to teach kindness, courtesy, courage, good decision making. Help me point each student, parent, teacher, and administrator with whom I come in contact to my Source, to You.
Give me such a peace among chaos that people ask me, "What's your secret?" so that I can tell them. Restore me Oh Lord. Restore my soul and thank You, Lord, for my Sabbath rest.
Scriptures to study on Sabbath rest
Exodus 20:8, Exodus 20:11, Luke 6:1-5 Luke 23:56
Cheryl Skid
Christian Educators of America

Posted photos

I posted some photos on Facebook about the trip to Guatemala. Neil was fabulous in the kitchen. The staff and students loved his tortilla soup and home made rolls-and I love his guacamole. My teaching was SO well received! Afterwards the students wouldn't get up to leave! The Holy Spirit was so PRESENT that the students just stayed in their chairs and let Him continue to minister to them! I love my book they signed writing me notes in English, Spanish or a mixture of both. I would love more opportunities to minister to groups! I love it and I think they do, too.

Guatemala Adventure the beginning

The first time I visited Guatemala was in 1993 with our son Nathan when we went to stay with the founders of Hearts in Action, Suzanne and Mario Barbarczy and got to meet Lorena, a girl we sponsored through Compassion International. It was a thrill to see her school where they welcomed us with a big sign on the blackboard of her classroom. I just returned from  my 9th trip to Guatemala. I love the people, the countryside, the food. Just beautiful! This week I taught in a missions school and met a boy I've sponsored five years enabling him to attend the Jungle School on the Hearts in Action ranch. Neil worked in the kitchen. We had a fabulous time. I love ministering--especially to people so longing to hear the Word of God. Neil is great in the kitchen and made everyone want him to come back!  I will write details! I love writing. But now,I'm still so tired just having returned.. --need to get some rest

Guatemala Adventure!

This is new for me! Just am starting a blog! I will look forward to sharing my adventures with those who care to read them!