Iris Richard

By Iris Richard

The voices seemed muffled as I slowly woke out of the anesthesia following a medical procedure on my back.

I heard the doctor’s gloomy prognosis: “She might not be able to live a normal life and certainly she shouldn’t have any children with a serious back condition like this.”

Another concurred: “She might be confined to a wheelchair from the age of 30 if the scoliosis keeps progressing as rapidly as it has been.”

When I reached home with my mother later that day, I locked myself in my room and sat by the window for hours, staring out at the grey, cloud-laden sky as tears rolled down my cheeks. All I could think of was spending life in a wheelchair.

I was twelve when I was diagnosed with a serious case of scoliosis in three parts of my spine. The diagnosis was followed by countless doctor and hospital visits. The scoliosis rapidly worsened—to slow the progress of the curvature, I began sleeping in a plaster mold and wearing a thick plastic corset during the day.

The song went out of my life, and I became shy and withdrawn, for fear of my crooked spine being noticed. I wore loose-fitting clothes to try to hide the slight hump that had formed on the right side of my back due to the curvature. But despite my despair, an inner voice cajoled me to not give up, and eventually, after months of hard training at physiotherapy, the progress of the scoliosis started to slow down.

With time, my faith in God also increased, and I realized that prayer was augmenting my success in achieving my life’s goals, despite the setbacks this chronic condition kept throwing at me. God sent special people into my life, like a gifted massage therapist who helped me for years with her services and friends who assisted me during the delivery of my seven children. I learned to live positively with this physical challenge and even improve my health. The forecast of being confined to a wheelchair thankfully never materialized, and the scoliosis hasn’t worsened.

Now, almost 50 years later, I am grateful for the obstacles that I learned to overcome. Victories over what seemed like life-threatening defeat were won through prayer.         

Call to Me, and I will answer you, and show you great and mighty things, which you do not know. – Jeremiah 33:3

One of my favorite Bible stories has also been a guiding light to me since I first started working as a volunteer in foreign lands back in 1978. Over the years since then, it’s served as both a promise I could depend on and a nudge I couldn’t ignore.

This is how the story goes: God had sent a drought to punish Israel for their wickedness, and the brook nearby where the prophet Elijah had been camping had dried up, as had his food supply. God told him to travel to a town called Zarephath where he would meet a widow with a good heart and faith in God who would provide for him while he continued his ministry.

As Elijah approached the city, he met a woman gathering sticks by the town gate and may have felt that this was the one God had told him about. Tired and hungry, he asked her for some water and a piece of bread.

She stared at him in disbelief and explained that she didn’t have any bread left and only enough flour and oil to bake a last loaf for herself and her son. She expected this would be their final meal before starving to death.

Elijah then asked an impossible favor of her: “First, bake a loaf for me and then one for your son and yourself.” Then he assured her that God would bless this sacrificial and unselfish deed: “There will always be flour and olive oil left in your containers until the time when the Lord sends rain and the crops grow again!” [1 Kings 17:14 NLT] The widow did as Elijah requested, and sure enough, the Bible records that from that point on, her flour and oil never ran out, and there was sufficient food for her and her family throughout the famine. God kept His promise. [See 1 Kings 17:7–16.]

Reflecting on my many years of service on a shoestring budget, I realize that I have a similar story to tell. It seems like we receive almost daily requests or pleas for help. Sometimes it’s a poor and sick unemployed single mother with a string of children, or a group of destitute elderly people we meet when taking a mission trip to rural areas, or a stranded stranger who has been robbed, or hungry orphans barely surviving in poorly funded institutions, or a neighbor who has run out of some item, and on the list goes.

In Kenya, the choice to give or to withhold presents itself many times a day, even when we are scratching the bottom of the barrel ourselves. With seven children of my own to raise, I often felt like I had a legitimate excuse not to give. But then I’d feel God’s tug on my heart, and I’d feel compelled to reach out to try to meet the need.

To this day, over 35 years into this giving spree, we still have enough. Our pantry is like the widow’s jar of flour that has never been empty, and our jeep’s fuel tank, like her jug of oil, has never run dry yet. The cycle of giving has been rewarded by refilling, then it overflows and we keep giving, only to be filled again with God’s goodness.

Every morning I wake up and board an express train leaving from Fast Track Station. As I speed along life’s rails, I stare out the window and think. Where has the time gone?How did my children manage to grow up so quickly? Now it’s happening to my grandchildren. I catch my reflection in the window and wonder where all that grey hair came from. It seems like only yesterday…

In today’s ever-changing and expanding world, it’s hard to take the focus off of what is happening to us externally, the pressures of life on the fast track, but it’s through turning inward and working on ourselves that we are renewed. It can start here:

1. Invest in relationships: Don’t take friends and family for granted; these relationships need nurturing. Treat yourself and a friend to a cup of tea or coffee, and talk. Let people know that you appreciate them and are glad they’re part of your life. Try to surround yourself with happy people. Being around people who are upbeat buoys your own mood. And when you are cheerful and optimistic, you give something to those around you by just being yourself.
2. Take a brisk walk: Physical activity boosts the feel-good endorphins in your body, which increases your sense of well-being, which makes it easier to approach challenges positively. Exercise also improves your overall health. While you’re exercising, concentrate on deep, abominable breathing; that will increase the amount of oxygen delivered to every cell of your body and flush your circulatory system of toxins.
3. Meditate: Focus on an object—a flower, a tree, a cloud—and take in its wonder. Or concentrate on a positive thought or Scripture. Let feelings of gratitude fill your mind and flood your spirit. Picture your troubles, confusion, and fears taking flight as you breathe slowly and deeply.
4. Engage in prayer. Prayer is like an extension of meditation. It has the same immediate benefits for body, mind, and spirit, but goes far beyond that; it is your link with your Creator, and it sets His power to work on your behalf. You can pray in your own words, or read the written prayers of others.
5. Take time off. Most stress is work related. Make times when you totally disengage from work and do something that will have a positive impact. And instead of picking up the nearest electronic device, if that is your default diversion, try sketching or painting, creative writing, or reading a good book—something that will stimulate you in a new direction.

Steve had been a cheerful little boy with big brown eyes, curly blond hair, and a dimple that appeared on his right cheek every time he smiled. He had dreamy eyes, and often sat by the window to gaze at the rain, the clouds, or the birds.

“He has been kissed by an angel,” the Japanese midwife had told me with a smile when she first placed the small warm bundle in my arms, pointing out a snow-white streak of hair at the back of his head. “He has a special calling in life.” Over the years, her words often came back to me and I wondered what they meant.

Fifteen years later, Steve, then a handsome teenager with a strong, athletic physique, suddenly became very ill. I was sure it was a bout of malaria, as we had travelled to the coast regularly during our missionary work in East Africa. The grave look on the doctor’s face said otherwise, even before he relayed the findings of the tests he had ordered. “Acute lymphoblastic leukemia.” My mind was suddenly flooded with questions. What did that mean? Could it be healed? How will this affect his future?

Because of the seriousness of Steve’s condition, we were in a race against time. Within a few hours, Steve was flown to Europe where better treatments were available. He was hospitalized and put on chemotherapy.

The next two years were long and agonizing. Hopeful moments were followed by setbacks as one chemo therapy session was followed by the next.

Then came the day when it became clear that our dear Steve was not going to recover. His doctors pronounced the treatments unsuccessful and gave him six weeks to live. It was Steve’s wish to return to Mombasa, Kenya, where he had grown up. It was there, surrounded by his friends and family, that he got to fulfill some of his final wishes, like a day of sailing in the bay before watching the hot tropical sun spread bright hews over the Indian Ocean at sunset.

When Steve’s last breath passed his lips early one morning in a small hospital room overlooking the ocean, the world stood still for me. A large yellow butterfly fluttered through the open window, and I felt God reassuring me that He had taken Steve gently to His unseen realm. Still, the impact of losing my son left me in shambles long after everyone else’s mourning had passed.

“Let go and move on” was the well-meaning advice I seemed to get from every side. But where was I to move on to? And how? Deep inside, I felt bitter and angry with God for snatching my vibrant young son from me. I felt cheated and empty. My heart remained heavy as the months dragged by and I pondered my loss again and again.

Eventually I decided to meet God on my porch early each morning to tell Him of my woes. Days stretched to weeks as I poured on Him all my grief, remorse, and anger over what had happened. “If love is the essence of Your nature, as the Bible says, how could You have dealt so harshly with me and my son?” I asked over and over.

        What a patient and long suffering listener I had found.

I cried and pleaded and reasoned, until finally one morning I felt I had said all that I wanted and poured out all my emotions. It was then, when I was willing to make peace with God, that tranquility filled my soul. In a still, soothing voice, God began to speak to my heart. From that point on, my solitary morning porch meetings with God took another direction. I learned to listen to Him and to allow Him to comfort me and heal my pain.

Our jeep bumped along the rugged trail that was going to bring us to the main road and back home to Nairobi, after a successful humanitarian aid project in a distant rural area of Kenya. My thoughts were already travelling to the busy week ahead. The next project was around the corner and needed to be planned and organized, and there seemed to be too few hours in the day to get it all done.

My knee had been bothering me for the previous few days, and that eventually escalated into a constant dull pain. So far, I had managed to ignore it, but I knew I’d probably end up needing to get it checked. Only, as far as I could see, there simply wasn’t time.

After arriving home, I went to bed early, feeling exhausted and achy. During the night, a pounding pain woke me up, and I discovered swelling all around my knee cap. I popped some painkillers and tried to catch a bit more sleep. In the morning, the pain was even more intense, and I called my doctor who immediately summoned me to his office. There, a thorough checkup, blood tests, and an x-ray confirmed that there was a deep-seated infection in my leg that was threatening to spread.

“We need to hospitalize you today,” the doctor’s concerned voice reverberated in my ears.

I tried to argue. “But I have pressing appointments and work to do this week.”

“Your work has to wait!” said the doctor. “This infection has to be stopped, or you might even lose your leg!”

Relenting, I hobbled over to the next-door hospital to check myself in. Then a nurse met me with a wheelchair and escorted me into a small room. After she left, quietness enveloped me, and the fact that I was grounded sank in fully. The room was sterile and white, and flowered curtained windows faced a tree lined courtyard. There was a small TV attached to the wall, a sink with a small mirror, and a metal-frame bed. I sank into its covers, frustration and worry welling up inside of me.

Soon, the door opened and a nurse entered to set up a drip. “Don’t worry, dear, you’ll be better soon,” she said reassuringly, then smiled and left the room. I was alone again.

I realized that I had two choices. One was to let the situation pull me down, dreading each minute I had to spend here. The other was to start searching for a glimpse of the silver lining that must be hidden somewhere beneath the dark cloud. I opted for the latter and prayed that God would help me find joy in this unexpected and potentially depressing turn of events.

A knock on the door brought me out of my reverie. It was a colleague with a large bunch of flowers. This was soon followed by several phone calls by loved ones offering their best wishes for my recovery. I began to cheer up.

A tray with tea and cake was wheeled in for an afternoon snack, and I couldn’t help a grin when I realized that it had been a long while since I had been served in bed! Later in the day, I rested, read, and watched a movie. It felt great to just relax and let myself enjoy this unexpected but much-needed break.

Within a few days, my knee improved and I was able to go home. In the meantime, others had managed my project just fine.

I’m glad that I chose joy, which brought along peace, and in turn helped to get me back on my feet quickly.

I decided “better late than never” and ventured into something new and long overdue: at age 50-plus, I registered for lessons at a local driving school.

To my horror, during just my second class, I was taken to drive in the chaotic Nairobi traffic.

“Try to create space around your vehicle,” was one of the first instructions.

“Easier said than done when no one else seems to do that,” I mumbled nervously as I attempted to weave my way through rush hour traffic. Despite my efforts, I soon found myself sandwiched between overloaded minibuses blaring out rap music, motorcycles snaking between lanes, and a dump truck carrying heaps of garbage that towered over my compact car.

“If you can’t have space on all sides, try to have space on two sides—and if not on two, then on at least one, front or back.”

That sounded like a lesson that could be applied to life in general when problems tower over me.

As a mother of seven and a long-time missionary in Africa, I have experienced a wide spectrum of situations that included some so stressful that they threatened to test me beyond my limits. Whenever things felt like they were getting too much to bear, though, this promise would pop into my mind:

God is faithful. He will not allow the temptation to be more than you can stand. When you are tempted, he will show you a way out so that you can endure. [[1 Corinthians 10:13 NLT]]

These strategies have helped me:

• Create space. To be able to cope with demanding situations, I started taking short breaks throughout the day. These times act as buffers during periods when extra grace and energy are needed.
• Be honest. I’ve had to learn to be honest with myself and others about my limitations. For example, my three-year-old grandson knows that I have a hard time with noise and respects that, which helps us make the most of our times together.
• Make time. Our family has always tried to find time to talk things over, as well as to commit difficult issues to God in prayer together.
• Accept help. Letting others help with stressful situations can be a lifesaver. It’s also a chance to forge deeper bonds through shared victories.
• Give it a rest. Applying the “sleep on it” principle puts many controversial topics and unsettling issues to rest. It also gives God time to work things out.