The Walk

Years of walking,
I've experienced humanity along this path
In gratitude and grief, longing and hoping,
knowing and obeying. 
I've never walked alone. Never.

The Father's plan all along, to do His Will

Today marked the start of a different trek,
One prepared from the very beginning
When the roads started to diverge.
Our efforts in place, the Hope for a cure,
A promise-- if one believes.

The Father's Plan all along, free will.

I knew this time, again, inevitable wounds.
Fear was not an option; it lies, deceives.
We met in the desert, those wilderness places.
It tried walking me to the edge.
I scoff at the ignorance for I see fear's fate.

My Father's Plan all along, forever to reign.

The weight held my feet
As if captured in an animal trap.
With each movement,
Especially the first open-eyed breath of morning light
I knew what must be done.

I'd walk with the burdens, all of them.
With the mocking--loud and the memory crown, piercing.
The silent ones hurt more, those who say but never do,
Who know, yet seek the temporary.
I walk for all. I love for all.

The Father's Plan all along, to give it all over to Him.

With bloodied feet numb
I shed grief's loss to gain righteousness.
Right thinking
Right doing
Right living under and through His Grace.

The Father's Plan all along, Resurrection.

The burden heavy in my human weakness
Yet there are those who help me carry
I arrive and Grace begins.
The promises of Hope plugs in to dance
To the music of victory, to the symphony of purpose.

The Father's plan all along, Merciful Redemption

The Campaign gathers the disciples,
The afflicted, the faithful,
Who walk with me. We grow together,
Learn and listen, pray, Oh, the prayers!
We remember the why and the who.

The Father's Plan all along, Greater Love.

Past, present and future converge.
Hope arises from the intersection,
Where arms stretch out, chests heave,
Legs strain to lift and open lungs
Until its done and history changes.

The Father's Plan all along, that He makes One Way.

Here, death is remembered
But life peers into Eternity
For all those who give of themselves,
Surrender their own will,
And I am redirected to Heaven.

The Father's Plan all along, Communion. 

Peace pours back down
And True Believers receive the gifts.
Hearts and feet walk side by side along the Way
Forever changed, forever comforted, forever loved,
Forever knowing,  His Plan all along...Glory

Considerably Yours,
Coleene VanTilburg

And Now We Know, The Power and Story of the Blood

Before I told his story, he told his story. 

Many listened to him in those wee hours when the hospital is quieter and some try sleeping. That's when he seemed to ramp up the dialogue, and that chosen attentive night nurse came into his room only to stay awhile longer, listening, as some nurses did so well, a skill not requiring a college course.  Tim, my sick son, met several of those along his journey to find the cure and/or the doctor who'd make him his priority. 

The Blood Clot...

It first showed up many years prior, at the age of 11 or 12 I think. This unknown sharp distraction for Tim, nagged and puzzled many and they (professionals) could not quite put their finger on it, give a diagnosis for that certain pain he had in his neck. A pain in the neck...to name what aggravated him, what caused his crying out. Finally, almost 3 weeks and many tests,  by default and a favor from a friend, we went to another county, a new hospital where an ultra- sound detected it. That Blood Clot...almost gone by this time, lodged in an artery in his neck, the carotid of all places. 

We dealt with his chronic kidney condition and other issues through the years. Then, at 19, legs swinging from his kidney doctor's table, he described his chest pain, telling the doctor that he thinks a blood clot invaded his lungs. He TELLS the doctor because he knows this pain. 

Tests the next day confirm it, pulmonary embolism, aka, P.E. 

From that day on, Tim's blood tests became weekly and a new prescription, a blood thinner, became another part of his medical regimen. He'd be in and out of the hospital the next 6 years. 

Looking deeper

Tim met a new doctor, one that wanted to take another look at his problem with blood clots. A genetic factor for clotting became the topic of discussion, something called Protein C deficiency. Tim discontinued the blood thinner meds for a brief time in order to get an accurate blood test. The findings indicated he DID "have some sort of genetic predisposition to clotting," said this doctor. Others were still not so sure. 

Skeptics...and time ticks and then it doesn't. 

In a few short weeks we'd be planning his memorial. I remember thinking at the time, thinking a lot of things, but in particular this, none of this matters any more...

He died physically, a horrible way, broken, bleeding and unable to breathe oxygen into his lungs on his own. But a spiritual death never occurs because of the blood of Christ and in that, my son lives forever and we will see him again. 

I am a Believer and time is Eternal. 

Ten years later, here we are. Healed? Yes. Comforted by Amazing Grace? Yes. Knowing a sovereign and Holy God in a deeper and very personal way? Yes. Wanting to tell his story and my story...God's story all the time? Yes. 

And then we hear those two awful words in an ultra-sound room again,  BLOOD CLOTS. 

Three clots wait in the on deck circle behind Ted, my husband's, knee. Two others already traveled up to his lungs.  It all comes flooding back, the pain, the fear, the questions and the silent stares/prayers of my heart. 

What in the heck did I...we just hear? Lord...get me together before I climb through this wall. 

Before Ted is officially admitted to begin treatment, I relayed a brief history of our son, his "almost diagnosis" of a hereditary clotting issue. Would they check these same factors in my husband's blood before they begin him on blood thinners? They agreed these tests should and would be done. 

This last week, we visited a new doctor in Ted's growing medical community, a hematologist. He will be taking care of Ted's needs concerning the clots as well as the coagulation clinic. 

In his gentle and caring heart, the doctor looked over at me, leaned in and said these words..."I want to know your son's story."  

I've been telling his story, our story for 10 years now. 

I knew he meant medically, but so much more filled up that space between us in those few seconds---never just one thing. Breathe... I feel the spiritual, His Presence. An egg of my womb and my husband's seed created from love for love, if only for a season, but always, always for a reason. 

I want to know his story...

Though it is not protein C deficiency, a gene mutation involving clotting factors lies on Ted's DNA and most likely did on Tim's as well.  Confirmed by a doctor who barely knew Ted much less Timmy,  he took the time to explain many things and listen to Timmy's story. 

Ted will remain on blood thinners for life. We remain to tell the story, write the story. 

I walked back to the parking garage. Ted waited in the front for me to pull around and get him, standing with his walker, his new knee, his infected wrist and his 5 blood clots. My heart heavy and my mind thinking on all this, the emotions began to rise up in my throat but did not quite reach my eyes,  but close. You're still so close son...

An unknown, a maybe, now turns to a known, a yes, another reason...my heart is back-tracking and wanting to blame...If we knew earlier, if someone had asked questions when he was 12...if only... 

That's where the liar, the accuser wants me to linger...but God sends a song to counteract the attack. 

I turn the key and the radio blasts one of my favorite Christian artists, Jeremy Camp singing "Overcome." It is where the lyrics happen to be as I am thinking and almost crying...and the engine starts...but Jeremy's deep voice sings...

"We will overcome, by the power of His blood and the words of His testimony..." 

The Blood...it has power! The Blood, it overcomes, the words of our testimony...they will supersede! Peace passes over me,  through me, like a blood flow, that peace I know from God that He heard my heart cries even when I wasn't even officially praying.  I want to know your son's story...God is so good. 

The next day I am telling this story to my dearest friend. God clears my head once again and shows me His Light. Tim may have received his news too late, but Ted did not. Even after 10 years and moving past, Tim presented his father, his brother, his cousins, his uncle...all of them a gift. Genetics usually happen the other way around, the father relays a flaw, a mutation to the child. But our son, 10 years past his arrival in heaven, lets his dad know, so his dad can live, be prepared, OVERCOME!

Power in the blood, the blood that might tend to clot. And now we know and can treat it.

Power in the Blood, and now we know and can be forgiven and set free and live forever in Heaven.

Power in the Blood, because love lives on and testimony and story needs to keep flowing and demon clots need to dissolve. Strength and resolve sometimes come from the fight, but the spiritual battle belongs to the Lord. Now we know we can overcome. 

And we will. Thank you Timmy for fighting a good hard fight. You didn't have all the answers but that never stopped you from trying to find them. You were on a good road, on the edge of a break through, maybe not a cure but some answers, even way past your time. You never knew for certain,  but we know now. Thank you for pointing the way, even 10 years later and letting us know God is always in control. Thank You God for loving us, grace poured out and received for those who believe in the power of Your blood.

Jeremy Camp ~ Overcome

Singing in the Midst

I stopped while reading through the chapters of Mark in the Holy Scriptures, revisiting Christ's last earthly days. I saw these quick, five little words..."and after singing a hymn..." (Mark 14:26). The disciples, just finishing up their Passover meal with Jesus (which would be their last), were feeling worship-FULL. Some of us take walks, and they would do to that too, up to the Mount of Olives, but for now, a hymn was the dessert of choice.

My mind wandered to the disciples and their fellowship around that special Last Supper table. They witnessed so much first hand what the Prophet Jesus did in His three year ministry together.  Traveling dusty roads, taking boats out to stormy seas, gathering at both weddings and funerals, walking along rivers and on top of water. They were in the midst of something spectacular.  Riding donkeys, walking miles while meeting many interesting people in crowds, they always were on the move.  Jesus fed a multitude of hungry people with little; He swirled His fingers in mud and wiped a blind man's eyes and this man's first vision was His Healer, Jesus! Discarding crutches of the lame, smoothing the skin of lepers, calling out demons; Godly authority and power, so evident. Christ and the disciples developed relationships with many, rich and poor, holy and not so holy and they got to know each other in the process. Most importantly, they became familiar with the One they followed. This was truly the Promised Messiah!  They recognized God in their midst. 

Fellowship. Jesus ministered through it.  The Last Supper? --the  ultimate small group.  The planning commitee started out by listening to Jesus's directions for the Passover Meal.  Find the person who has set aside a place, an upper room.  They obeyed and without Google Maps and Suri, they located the banquet room. Once there, Jesus proceeded to set an important example to the first followers, by serving them in the washing of their dirty feet.  Peter did not feel worthy. Jesus instructed him that until he submits his filthy toes, his cracked and bruised heels, his aching arches into the bowl and allow Jesus to dip his own loin cloth and cleanse, he would "have no part of Me." (John 13:10).  

Peter threw his sandals off.  If he could, he would have dunked his whole body from head to toe and received a full salon treatment. Thing is, just the toe dip refreshed and revived him for eternity. 

The disciples with Jesus ate the Passover Meal and Jesus took the bread and together with the wine connected their presence, their significance to the Holy. Fellowship partook in the Holy and that Holy resonates in us today as we partake in the Holy elements of Grace.  We remember and we give thanks. 

And doesn't that make you want to sing!  

The disciples did not understand fully what was to come in the next few days. They couldn't believe that a betrayer lurked among them.  How did one we shared so much with, seen so many miracles with, felt so much love and purpose with, disregard the Holy? Judas left, not before spilling over the healing water of the footwash basin. 

OK then, refocus.  Jesus.  He wants to teach us more.  

"Love one another, He said.  Like I have loved you. Men will see Me in you."

"Don't be worried about stuff. Just believe I've got it handled."

Jesus contined and they listened. 

"I'm going to go away for awhile. I've got more work to do with the Father. There, I will make a place for you. I will come back and get you. Where I AM, you will be right with Me. There's only one way, through me, so know this Truth. It is Life. 

"I feel like singing"...said Peter.

"I've seen God!" said Philip.  I need to praise Him, sing and...and worship!  

What lyrics, what harmonies, what beats came from these humble, chosen, very human eye witnesses to Glory on earth?  

Oh Lord, revive Thy work in the midst of the years, 

In the midst of the years make it known;

In wrath, remember mercy. 

Holy, holy, holy 

Is the Lord of Hosts.

The whole world is filled with His glory. 

I will tell of Thy name, Thy name to my brethren

In the midst of Thy assembly,

I will praise Thee

Holy, holy holy

Is the Lord Almighty

The whole world is filled with His glory. 

And then they would gather again, at the foot of a cross. The disciples knew the Holy as they watched his heaving chest, His outstrewn arms covered in caking blood, His precious palms that had touched their own stinking feet and cleansed them of all their filth.  Looking at His feet, remembering them hovered over the waves of the Galilee, and the depths of their own souls, they tasted the Manna.  At the Cross they saw the blood flow down onto his matted beard from the thorns. His back lay open, sinews and dislocations evident barely through the gaping flesh.  He asked John to take care of His mother Mary through the gurgling whisper of pain and spiritual separation of Himself and His Heavenly Father. The wine came back up. It is finished. 

Holy, holy holy

Is the Lord Almighty

The whole world is filled with His glory.

And in the midst of Me

You are Forgiven

Into Eternity

And in the midst of my human life, I sing in fellowship with other Believers on Easter morning. For in the midst of my soul lives a Risen Savior. In the midst of my earthly pain, my dirty feet, my betrayals, my anguish, the thorns in my side, my failures, my unworthiness and regret, I am made Holy. Eucharisteo. Thank you Lord. Eucharisteo, I sing Your praises in the midst of Your forgiveness of my sin and the washing of my soul in Your own blood. In the midst of Christ Jesus, the Son, My Father sees me as His child, in Grace received. Eucharisteo, in the midst of the Manna and the Wine. Holy,  Holy,  Holy. 

In Considerable Thoughts, Coleene  

Isaiah 6:3, Habbakuk 3:2, Psalm 22:22, John 14. 

Good God Day

Evil slithers in for a dip in Paradise.

Toxic warning. The deep end is cordoned off,

But Adam-man toe-tapped into the slime pool of “What-ifs,” of don’t-you-want-tos.”

Free will gave him choice

--and he chose.

Entertaining the enemy,

They coil together to reproduce.

Dry and parched,

The world chokes for the Breath of God.

God breathes

And she received.

For in this Promise,

Hope resuscitates.

Living water pours out through and aqueduct of Grace.

Evil taunts the GodMan.

Walking the wilderness of temptation,

Maneuvering, offering up…

The Flesh resists.

Evil, on its belly, infiltrates the followers,
Kisses His cheek.

The noose strangles.

Sin sways in its own weight.

Betrayal serves Him up.

In fear they scatter.

Thrice denied, the bird calls in harmony with the devil.

“Another Way?”

“I AM the Way.”

The world sleeps.

“They say you are a king?”

“Who are you?”

“The son of God?  Blasphemer!”

“Give us Barabbas!”

“Crucify Him!”

Evil smirks in presumptive victory,

Sliding through the thorns,

The slurs and mocking,

Disguised as a cat-o-nine-tails.

Tearing.

Shredding.

Dragging the splintered Cross,

It divots the earth,

Marking only one path to follow up a hill,

Planted between two choices,

I believe. I do not. 

All have sinned. All are separated.

Greatest Love bridges troubled waters of the soul.

He bled out to take us all in.

It is done.

Forgive them Father.

The earth sighs and trembles.

The veil splits and the Holy becomes ours, 

Accessible again.

The sun eclipses on a Good God Day,

A day when all will be made right, 

When Truth victoriously rises, defeating death.

Giving life eternal. 

A mother weeps for her Son,

A Son fulfills Prophesy promises,

Prepares his generals for the battle.

And the Father…

God holds His breath

To breathe life anew,

Into us,

Into you.

John 3:16 For God so loved the world, that He gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in Him, will not perish, but have everlasting life. 

 

 CV.