Thank you
Susan Estrada (Pittsburg,
USA)
Editor’s note
Sis Estrada’s difficult encounters
in 4fe have given her not just a glimpse, but a beautiful picture of the love
of God, acted out through His people. The care and concern were so genuine that
they were felt by the author in a unique way. The persons that touched her life
loved in a manner so consistent and personal that it felt like one single love
that flowed through them. And so she addresses them in this article with a
simple ‘you’. Her ‘Thank You’ is, indeed, from the bottom of her heart.
It is said that the Lord works in
mysterious ways. I am inclined to believe He does. As I trace my Christian walk
in the United States of
America, I see how the Lord has led me into
your care so that every one of you could help me and my family grows from one
year to another.
It was in 1987 when I first made
your acquaintance in Northern Carolina,
USA. I had
begun to attend Sabbath services and my children, Felicia and Sarah,
accompanied me. They were five and two, and they found sermons a trying
experience and often fidgeted in their seats. And so you sat with them in the
fellowship hail or out on the lawn and taught them about the Lord Jesus in a
language and setting they understood and appreciated.
I could have insisted that you
remained inside the chapel. After all, you had driven many miles to worship the
Lord on this day of rest. But it was a new and exciting experience for me to
sit in on services where English was used. Because I could finally comprehend
what was being preached from the pulpit, I could not help myself from taking
advantage of your generosity. Each visit, too, was treasured because I never
knew if! would be back.
My fears were confirmed in the
middle of that year. Although my husband Larry shared my desire to bring up our
children in the ways of the Lord, we could not agree on a church. Still when I
learned that baptism would be carried out that summer, I asked if! could have Sarah baptized. Although Larry answered in the
affirmative, I soon learned that I was not supposed to have taken him
literally. Consequently, I lost the privilege to go to church. Larry also
issued explicit instructions that I was not to have any contact with the church
or have the church contact me. When he went to work on Saturdays, he sabotaged
my car engine to ensure I did not make the ten-minute drive. He also telephoned
from his work place to check ill was home. Meanwhile, he began looking for a
church of his choice for us to attend, and he warned of repercussions that would
follow if! did not comply.
Amid the fears and anxieties of
losing my home and marriage, I wrote to you for prayerful support. The Lord
heard you and granted me the strength to believe in His Word that I had no need
to be anxious about my life. Your prayers also gave me the courage to learn
what it meant to be a “submissive wife” so that Larry would, in time, come to
praise God.
During Jesus’ ministry on earth,
He said, “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works
and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.” In January 1988, when Larry
was hospitalized for a gallstone operation, I called you for your prayerful
support. You prayed, but you also took time from your busy schedule to visit
him in a dreary hospital room.
Presently, I received permission
to take our children to church. Sometimes, we went every Sabbath and sometimes,
we went once in a while. And sometimes, Larry went with us. Through it all, you
supported us with Christian fellowship offered with Chinese food in the church
and genuine friendship served over fresh-brewed coffee in your home.
Furthermore, whenever you found an opportunity, you dropped by Larry’s office
to chat with him about his interest in computers.
Your love kept us in the palm of
God’s hands and on 1 January 1989, Larry was baptized. Six months later, he
received the Holy Spirit.
Thus 1989 became an especially
good year for us. We were spiritually elevated and we were equally elated about
other aspects of our lives. We were all in relatively good health. Larry’s
career in a major oil packaging company was challenging and rewarding. We had
also achieved our American dream of home ownership, and to top that, we were
able to remain a traditional family where Larry went to work and I stayed at
home to take care of our children. Our joy was complete.
But there is “a season and a time
for every matter under heaven”. In the summer of 1990, Larry was diagnosed with
a rare form of abdominal cancer. Again you supported us with your prayers so
that the surgeon could efficiently remove a tumour “the size of a small
basketball” and Larry was able to recover quickly from the surgery. He returned
to work and, for about a year, was again in good health. However, over the next
two years, we lived in fear of each new test. We fought the disease in any way
we could and as hard as we could. We prayed and we fasted. We bargained for
more time and we promised to be missionaries. At the same time, Larry also
subjected himself to a series of surgery, chemotherapy and radiation. We even
tried special diets. Truly, the disease was a heavy cross to bear.
But we were never alone for you
carried our burden as well. You, too, fasted and prayed, more than we did or
could ever do. You stayed with us as we sat and waited through each surgery to
listen to the dreadful news of what was or was not inside Larry’s abdomen. You
went through the ordeal of donating blood so that your life-giving force would
sustain Larry during the initial stages of recovery. You served him healthy
meals, brought him flowers and sent him greeting cards. You took care of Feicia
and Sarah and offered them your companionship. You invited me into your home so
that I would have a place to rest for the night while Larry rested in his
hospital bed with the assurance that I was only a short distance away. When
there was a need for me to travel between my house and the hospital, you went
out of your way to drive hundreds of miles to give me a ride.
Even when Larry was recuperating
at home, your support did not waver. You prayed for him in church, at home and
you also travelled many miles from around the San
FranciscoBay area
and from the Silicon Valley to come and pray
with him. Again, you came bearing gifts of home-cooked meals and the taro or
Asian pears he had requested. You also came to do the dishes, cut the lawn,
trim the plants and pick up the litter. It was a difficult time for us, but
because you never grew weary in your good works, you gave us the courage to
“fight a good fight”.
By the summer of 1993, we found that
the cancer had spread to Larry’s liver. We still hoped for a miracle, and Larry
still continued the 45-minute commute to his job whenever he could. It was very
hard on him and he confided that sometimes he felt like committing suicide on
the road. But your prayers kept him safe. One late afternoon on his way home,
he passed out at a shop where he had taken Felicia’s new music book to be
spiral-bound. His blood sugar had dropped and when he regained consciousness,
he was thankful that he was not on the road when it happened.
From then on, Larry began to lose
weight. He also had a frequent need to relieve himself. Next he developed more
complications and then his kidneys stopped working altogether. By the end of
September, he was simply too sick to go to work.
At that time, Larry had also
exhausted all paid sick leave offered by his employer. He applied for
government aid and although we were promised financial assistance, we needed to
wait. When I told you that I was in trouble, you got together and raised funds
so that we would not lose our home or means of living.
As Larry’s health deteriorated,
you continued your prayer vigils. Eventually, he was unable to attend to his
personal needs. He also became incoherent. However, while his speech and train
of thought were often unclear and illogical, his prayers, by contrast, were
clear and distinct; and he spent much of that time pleading, “Oh Lord, forgive
me.”
Then one Wednesday evening, he
called out in his sleep, “Lord, here I am.” The next day, he stopped eating and
drinking.
Even then, I still wanted a
miracle. You understood my struggle and you continued to lend me your support.
You stepped up your prayers, and you took turns to come by to assist me so that
Larry would, in addition to being cared for by the nurses from the local
hospice organization, receive round-the-clock care.
The following Monday, 13 December
1993, Larry passed on. Although the nurses had prepared me for the inevitable,
you understood that it was not easy for me to let go of someone with whom I had
spent almost half of my life. You also understood that I feared for Feicia and
Sarah who would now grow up fatherless. And so you let us mourn while you got
together to raise the funds to lay a dearly beloved brother to rest.
Now your responsibilities were
over. If Larry was that one sheep which the Shepherd had been looking for, you
had found him and had brought him safely home to the Shepherd.
But you did not think that way.
Instead, you took upon yourselves to make me and my children a part of your
lives. You knew there were assurances of financial compensations. I was to
claim on Larry’s two small life insurance policies, draw upon Larry’s company
pension, and look forward to his monthly social security cheques until each
child completed high school. Nonetheless, you understood that I had many
reasons to be anxious about the future. You understood that I was anxious about
successfully carrying out Larry’s wish to “take care of the children”,
specifically to feed, clothe, shelter and educate them. You saw too, that I was
anxious about them losing their medical and dental coverage. You knew that I
was anxious about fulfilling Larry’s wish that I keep the mini van which he had
purchased six months earlier. Then there were the medical and other incidental
bills that Larry and I had accumulated over the last few years. I also needed
to repair the termite damage to the roof and bathrooms of our house. My list
seemed endless.
But you did more than just tell me
you understood my anxieties. You got together and informally set up an Estrada
Fund to give me a helping hand.
But I cringed at the thought of a
handout. I was mad and sad. I wanted to brush off your helping hand and march
out of your lives.
But you waited patiently for me to
calm down. I was not easy to please, but you let me know that I was not alone.
You came to offer a listening ear. You helped me move the furniture around to
accommodate our new lifestyle. You got Larry’s computer running again after the
hard drive crashed. You took Feicia and Sarah out for fun and play and to
attend church services when I insisted that I needed a sabbatical.
Sometimes you did astounding acts
like the time you visited from Germany.
There was a spiritual convocation and the children had agreed that we would
make a thanksgiving offering of the two hundred dollar gift that had come from
the Estrada Fund that month. Before we went home, you gave Sarah an envelope
with the instruction that she only give it to me when we got home. When we
arrived and opened the envelope, Sarah exclaimed, “You got it back!”
Then another time, you wrote to me
from Southern California. You were sick and
bedridden, yet you made the effort to write and ask me to take the children
shopping with the gift you had enclosed.
Meanwhile, I began to build a
career for myself by going to a community college. On the day that I walked
into the counsellor’s office, I told her that I must find a real job so I could
pay into the social security system to ensure that I would receive adequate
benefits in my old age. She looked at me and asked what I wanted to do.
“Write,” I replied in between
sniffles. Indeed, I had wanted to write ever since I was twelve. In fact, I had
begun to work toward my dream by taking a writing course for children and
teenagers soon after Sarah was born. I had also tried to practice my chosen
craft, and in the years following the course, I had, on a few occasions, seen
my writing appear in local newspapers.
I also threw myself into the role
of a 90’s single mum. I returned to school and I got a job. I tried to fit my
new schedule into the children’s, but mostly I fitted the children into mine.
We zipped in and out of the house, and if they were not in school, I dropped
them off at a child care or the neighbor’s. Very soon Felicia’s grade point
average and Sarah’s test scores began to drop. I, on the other hand, maintained
a perfect grade point average. I also loved my job.
Unfortunately, I noticed that I
was developing a multiple personality. My job was to work with English students
to improve their reading and writing assignments. When some students remarked
that I worked with a smile, I squirmed inside my conscience, ashamed that my
children saw very few smiles at home. Soon, I saw other mixed messages I was
sending to Feicia and Sarah. One stood out in particular. I saw that while I
was teaching them about putting their faith in God, I was putting mine in the
social security system.
But the Lord moved you to give me
a sense of direction. You were putting together a monthly newsletter called the
Messenger, and you assigned me to write five-hundred-word articles on a
rotation basis. I tried. You also introduced me to the editors from Living
Water and Manna. Although the former is based in the east coast, and the latter
in Singapore,
you worked together to help me find my voice and learn how I could serve the
Lord.
A year has passed since the first
assignment. During this time, I have been unsure of this new path I was taking,
but you assured me that it was a good one. Nevertheless, you also understood
that I am not without struggle as I try to serve the God of my forefathers and
you comforted me that as surely as the Lord sustained the widow at Zarephath in
her hour of need, He will be as merciful.
My Christian walk began in 1984
when I came across a New King James Version of the English Bible in this
country. It became a window through which I could take a peek at the ways of
the Lord Jesus. He saw my curiosity and He led me to you. Jesus knew that you
would make the Bible come alive for me, and you have consistently shown Him
over the last ten years that He was right.
I thank everyone
of you for all your good works. May the Lord Jesus reward you with His abundant
grace.