A True Titus 2 Woman

"Older women likewise are to be reverent in their behavior, not malicious gossips nor enslaved to much wine, teaching what is good, so that they may encourage the young women to love their husbands, to love their children, to be sensible, pure, workers at home, kind, being subject to their own husbands, so that the word of God will not be dishonored."

Titus 2:3-5

The world is a darker place this week. On Christmas Eve, just thirty minutes before midnight, God called home one of His saints, a bright light born on October 27, 1924. Her parents named her Sarabelle, but everyone called her Sally. 


I first met Sally at a Christmas dinner in the home of my future grandmother-in-law. Sally was the aunt of the boy who would, three years later, become my husband. The moment she walked in the front door the house brightened. Laughter and joy radiated from the tall redhead like light through a prism. Her blue eyes sparkled with curiosity. They didn't miss a thing. But oh, they gave back so much more than they took in. There was unmistakable love and acceptance in those eyes. 


Sally's ability to accept people just as they were came from her relationship with Christ. She had received His grace and, therefore, she exhibited that same grace toward others. Christianity wasn't Sally's religion. It was her life. The abundant life Jesus promised through a relationship with Him. 


I wasn't a Christian when I met Sally, but it was her influence -- and I'm sure her prayers -- that led me to Jesus. There was something so different, so authentic about her faith. It was an anchor that held through the bitterest storms: the death of two husbands, a son, her sister, her mother, and the pain of her own physical disabilities. The Lord was her Rock. Her Solid Foundation that never shifted.


Sally taught me well over the years. She was my mentor. It wasn't a formal thing. We never lived close enough to one another to meet regularly. But when we were together, I was a sponge; soaking up from her every drop of biblical truth in action I could hold. From Sally I learned that homes are a blessing from God to be used to bless others, and food is to be shared and celebrated with joy. I have fond memories of sitting across from her at the dinner table where we would first ask God's blessing and then she would look up at me, grin and make an oink-oink sound -- like a little pig -- before digging into her plate. It always made me laugh to see such a godly, dignified lady cut loose like that. And frankly, her action gave me permission to be myself. It's okay for a Titus 2 woman to laugh and have fun. Even to make oinky pig noises at the dinner table. Sally passed onto me never to take myself too seriously. A lesson that has served me well.


Although she didn't take herself seriously, she did take God's word seriously. She loved to study it. Daily devotions were important to her. I remember once I spent the night with Sally and her second husband Stephen. When I came out of the guest room in the morning, I tiptoed past their bedroom to the kitchen. The bedroom door was open, and I saw them sitting on the bed reading scripture together. I didn't have to ask if they did that every morning. I knew they did. It's a vision that will stay with me as long as I have brain cells. An elderly couple equally devoted to God. He was their priority. Beautiful.


I could write page after page of Sally Memories, but the dearest one I have is one of the last few. We were in my living room, not long after my husband died. Sally sat in an easy chair and I sat at her feet. We wept together. Not for the husbands we had lost, for we knew they were with the Lord, in a much better place. We wept because we had been left behind to face life without our companions. We wept for our widowhood; hers a few years old, mine still fresh. I shared with her that I had been reading one of my life verses, Jeremiah 29:11: "For I know the plans that I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope." But that for the first time the preceding verses, four through seven, held special meaning for me: "Thus says the LORD of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom I have sent into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon, 'Build houses and live in them; and plant gardens and eat their produce. Take wives and become the fathers of sons and daughters, and take wives for your sons and give your daughters to husbands, that they may bear sons and daughters; and multiply there and do not decrease. Seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the LORD on its behalf; for in its welfare you will have welfare.'" God had allowed the exile of the Israelites to Babylon, and yet He wanted His people to continue on with life in the strange place they inhabited. For in time He would bring them back. He knew the plans He had in store for them, and they included a future and a hope. Sally smiled. "Those are the same verses the Lord gave me when Stephen died." We discussed how widowhood felt like exile; suddenly you're in a strange place not of your own choosing. And how those words from our Heavenly Father told us that He wanted us to go on and live life to the fullest. In time He would bring us out of our exile, but until then we were to remain faithful. "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will direct your paths." (Proverbs 3:5-6)


I will miss this dear lady as a daughter misses her mother. For, indeed, Sally was my spiritual mother. She was a wise woman. A gracious, generous and loving woman. A woman after God's own heart. She "fought the good fight", she "finished the course", she "kept the faith."  God brought her into my life to reach me and teach me how to follow Him. And in my greatest hour of need she was there -- as any good mother would be -- to encourage me and help me stay the course God had set before me. 


One day I'll see her again, in a place where God wipes away every tear and the Son never stops shining. I'm sure right now Sally is worshipping the King with all her loved ones who have gone before. 


As for me, I praise God for the joy and blessing of having a true Titus 2 woman in my life. Sarabelle Bausch, I want to grow up in the Lord to be just like you.


Nancy

A Common Destiny

My heart is heavy today. I almost don't want to blog, for fear I'll bring you, the reader, down. But this is a subject that everyone faces sooner or later, and maybe by the time you read the last line herein, some good will come your way. This, I pray, will be the case.

We received a call yesterday from a friend. Her husband passed away on Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving, from injuries sustained in a fall. Listening to her explain what happened between sobs, almost wailing with grief, brought back a flood of memories. May 19, 2007. . .

My husband comes in to the living room, sits down in his favorite chair, convulses, and within minutes -- dies. I try to save him, but I can't. I dial "911". I do what the voice on the other end of the line tells me to do. Jim's heart is still beating at that time. His breathing is shallow. "Keep his head up. Wait for the paramedics. They're on their way." What is taking them so long? He's dying!

When the EMT arrive, Jim has just expired. Two men lift him off the chair while two more push furniture out of the way. They lay him on the floor and rapidly begin working on his body. Ripping open his shirt. Listening for a heart beat and not finding one. Stabbing him with a needle. Placing paddles on his chest and then -- WHOMP! Jim's body responds in a weird kind of contortion. I want to scream at them to stop. You're hurting him! They try again. Listen for a heart beat. Nothing. Paddles and. . .

I can't watch. I literally turn away. This drama isn't what he would have wanted. We talked about it. Discussed it in detail. Oh, that stinking heart! We knew eventually it would give out. 

After ten minutes they find a pulse and put Jim on life support. Then they rush him to the hospital. The next 48 hours are filled with decisions, the last of which is removing the respirator. "There's no sign of brain activity," they tell me. No kidding. I saw him die in our living room. It would have taken a miracle for him to be restored. My God could do it. He just chose not to.

About the loss of her husband, our friend said she "can't live without him". I understand that. I know how that feels. A person you share every molecule of your being with suddenly is taken away and all you can think is "how am I ever going to go on without him." People come to offer sympathy, gift cards and Honey Baked ham. They want to help. And they do. They really do. But there's only so much they can give. Eventually they have to go away. They have their own family to care for. Their own spouse to love, cherish and hold. And boy, right now that's all they can think of doing. That's as it should be. One day they'll have their own spectacular loss to deal with. But not today. By the grace of God, not today.

Our friend said, "I know you know what this feels like." I sure do. It feels like hell. Sorry. But it does. There are nights when you're afraid you'll never stop crying. Days when you're mad. Some well meaning friend says, "Don't cry. He's in a better place." Well, yeah. I get that. Christians have the promise of eternal life. Forgive me, but this isn't about him. It's about me. He got to go home to Jesus and the celebration has begun. Meanwhile, I'm stuck here on earth without my husband, best friend, lover, cheerleader, confidante, and the one person who could make me laugh every day. I want to go home, too. It's not fair.

But who said life is fair? King Solomon, the wisest of the wise, wrote, "All share a common destiny—the righteous and the wicked, the good and the bad,". You won't get any argument from me, Solomon. Bad things happen to good people. All the time. I've seen it.

But here's what someone even wiser than the wisest said, "In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” Jesus said that. It's recorded in John 16:33. Oh, and if you look up that scripture you'll find He also said, "I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace."

After Jim died, someone asked me if I was mad at God. Mad at God? No way. Absolutely not. But I was furious with Satan. See, the devil's the one who ushered in sin and death. Way back in Eden. It was his plan all along. If he couldn't destroy the Almighty, then he'd do the next best thing. Destroy His beloved children. Death wasn't God's idea. He created man and woman for immortality. Satan tried to wreck God's plan, but he underestimated God's power. He always does. God sent His son Jesus to conquer sin and death on the cross. His death, burial and resurrection dealt a mortal blow to Satan and hell. "I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace."

I prayed with our friend over the phone. Among other things I asked God to comfort her; help her; guide her; fulfill all her spiritual, emotional, physical and financial needs; bring people into her life who will encourage her; give her rest, and peace. Sweet peace.

There's a particular prayer that I prayed when Jim died. A request that God did not grant. Remember earlier I said I wanted to go home, too? I asked God to arrange transportation, but He had His own plan. Instead of taking me out of the painful situation I was in, He carried me through it. He gave me all the things I prayed for our friend yesterday, and so much more. I know the sweet, gentle Holy Spirit that comes to minister to a broken heart. I know that when I cried out in emotional pain so intense I thought I would pass out, He came and bore the pain for me so that I could go on breathing. Just as Jesus said, "And I will pray the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter, that he may be with you for ever," John 14:16

Yesterday I caught a glimpse of God's plan and why I'm still here. Our friend needed to hear from someone who has come through what she is just now entering. She needed to know that there's someone else who understands the pain, disappointment and fear. She needed someone who would pray for her. She needed to know someone else got through it.

But maybe there's another reason why I'm still here. Maybe it's not just about our friend. Maybe there's someone reading this blog right now who's in the middle of something tragic. It's more than you can bare and you're thinking of giving up. Don't. Please don't. God can get you through whatever you're facing. He wants to help you. He wants to lead you through the dark valley to glorious light. He's there. Right there.


If you don't know God, I'd like to give you a place where you can learn more about Him.
The Gospel in Six Minutes


Thanks for hanging in here with me. I'm praying for you.