I asked myself, “Why in the world would Paul ask this question? Wasn’t he the one who had received 40 stripes minus one, who had been stoned, beaten with rods, and ship-wrecked three times? (2 Cor. 11:24-27) Hadn’t he already suffered enough? I’m sure with all that he went through he felt severe pain throughout his body, having experienced horrific headaches, backaches, and very deep wounds that left tremendous scars.” Therefore, what struck me was that Paul still wanted to know Jesus in the “fellowship of His sufferings”. My question then was, “if Paul, who had suffered much already for the sake of Christ wanted to know more about the fellowship in suffering, what was I missing in my fellowship with Christ?”

At this time in my life I certainly had to deal with some very hard and trying times with the loss of my mother and sister, but none the less, I felt like I wanted to further understand this “fellowship of His sufferings” as Paul wrote.

The phrase “be careful what you ask for” certainly applies to my now personal understanding of this very daunting passage. I had innocently asked God to show me the meaning of Philippians 3:10, and He did…through 6 ½ years of very painful suffering….physically, and emotionally.

In 1998, I was diagnosed with a disease called Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy (RSD), a chronic nerve pain disorder. The suffering I experienced with the RSD began with a simple injury to my ankle that did not heal properly. In short, this disease is progressive when not treated properly in the first three months and it involves a severe burning pain, 24 hours a day. The limbs affected can become atrophied, and causes the skin to turn red-hot or ice-cold, with no in-between. Unfortunately, I did not receive proper treatment in the first 6 months, and actually some of the treatments caused the disease to progress so much so that I was using a wheelchair within 9 months of the initial injury. The RSD was then so established that 3 ½ years later I found myself completely home-bound, staring at four walls and only able to walk 20 feet. My feet would get so hot that they would actually blister, or so cold that it felt like I had stuck them in a bucket of ice for over an hour. At times the pain was so excruciating that it was just as much of a mental battle as it was physically. I now had to rely totally on others for help and a wheelchair to get around.

Because of this disease, I understood pain…severe pain. I shed many tears, felt hopeless and helpless. I lost my ability to walk, run, hop, skip, and jump. Being an avid athlete, it shook the very core of my being. I felt shameful and angry for awhile. But this was not all that happened to me.
My dear sweet husband had suffered also. Within the first 6 months of marriage, while I was going through many hospital visits and treatments, he lost his job. Struggling to find anything, he took a job as an art framer and a second job as a waiter. Money came in slower than the medical bills. Gary decided to work full time as a waiter to get more money and left the framing job, but on his last day of work with the framer, we discovered he had a collapsed lung. He was rushed to the hospital. After two surgeries and 8 days in the hospital, with little insurance, we were left with a mountain of bills. It took over 8 weeks for Gary to get back to work.

The storm kept coming. Our house flooded three times because of faulty plumbing, flooding the crawl space once, flooding our neighbor’s yards another, and one that destroyed our bedroom and living room.

We were being hit, over and over again. It felt as if we were in a boxing ring and every time we got up, we got punched down again. Nearly every two weeks something bad, very bad, would happen to us. The next big hit was soon after Gary worked his way up to being the General Manager at the restaurant. Closing the restaurant late one night, he and two managers were robbed at gun point. Twice during the robbery, his life was threatened with a gun pointing at the back of his head. He and the two other managers were bound and tied up; one of them in the cooler of the restaurant. All, miraculously, did not get hurt, and the money stolen was recovered.

Where was God in all of this? He was right next to us the whole time. In fact, it was early on in those years of physical pain with my disease that the Lord showed me the book of Job and led me to read it. I truly felt like we were going through a “Job’s experience”. With so much loss, damage to our house, damage to our bodies, and damage to our wallet….we could relate to Job. It struck me that Job finally stopped asking God “why,” and instead, asked God, “What is it you are trying to teach me.” Therefore I knew that God was trying to teach us something: The fellowship of His suffering.
In each trial that we were faced with, He told me, “I know your pain.” He understood my shame and helplessness as I could not help myself and needed help from others. I would cry when people would have to come over just to wash our dishes, clean our clothes, and even scrub our toilets. When I was out in public I would constantly need assistance with crutches or a wheelchair and felt the stares of people all around me. Jesus understood me. He reminded me that even though He was the Son of God, had healed many people and could have called a legion of angels to help carry his cross, instead, He modeled for us all the acceptance of help, when Simon of Cyrene carried His cross for him through the streets of Jerusalem and up the hill to be crucified. (Matt. 27:32, Mark 15:21, Luke 23:26).

He felt my pain when I had to have shots injected into the bottom of my feet to help treat the RSD. “What was my pain,” I would ask myself on the Dr.’s table as the needle was pressed into my foot, “as compared to when Christ took a nail for me?” My pain was nothing.

He felt my pain when I was embarrassed by how I looked with a shriveled, discolored leg, and bound to a wheelchair. His body was naked and shriveled as he hung on the cross in front of hundreds of strangers. (Luke 23:35)

He felt my pain as I was angry and wanted to lash out at my husband because I was so hurt by the circumstances happening to us, even though it wasn’t his fault either. Jesus, instead of lashing out at others, reached out to the criminal beside him and told him he was forgiven, and that he would be in paradise. (Luke 23:39-43)

Jesus felt my pain when I struggled with how my relatives and those close by me could never understand the emotional pain I was going through and how ashamed I felt compared to my in-laws, who were starting families, and buying their first home. Jesus instead told John, his disciple, to lovingly take care of Mary, Jesus’ mother. (John 19:26-27)

Lastly, Jesus taught me not to compare myself to others around me. When I felt envious that my friends could live a “normal” life and felt sorry for myself that Gary and I had so many difficulties facing us, Jesus gently reminded me of the passage in John when Peter and Jesus were walking along the beach. Peter asked Jesus what was going to happen to John, the beloved disciple and Jesus’ remark was, “If I will that he remain till I come, what is that to you? You follow me” (John 21:20-23). In other words, Jesus was reminding me to just follow him right now, during these tough circumstances and not to look at what was going on in other people’s lives; after all, there lives weren’t perfect either! It was my duty to learn and lean on Jesus and what He had for me and my husband. Once I did this, I was blessed with what He taught me.

By showing me all of these analogies, I understood the “fellowship of His suffering.” Jesus was closer to me than anyone could possibly be, including my husband. This especially took place during the time when I was miraculously healed of the RSD and Peripheral Artery Disease (another disease I was diagnosed with during this six year period). I was beginning to see the rest of the scripture from Philippians 3:10, “the power of His resurrection”. Life was beginning to get back to “normal.” I was walking on my own, cleaning my own house, and even driving and doing errands by myself!

Yet, once again we were hit hard. In 2006, I got pregnant. We lost the baby at 13 weeks, on the day of our 5th wedding anniversary. The miscarriage was very difficult, enduring two D & C’s, drugs I really did not want to take, and various complications for 6 weeks, then to be told I only had a 2% chance of ever becoming pregnant again. Once again, I was hurt beyond what I felt my heart could endure. Still, Jesus was there, because as my heart was breaking, His heart broke too. He has a heart for children, and I clung to the scripture that my child would be there waiting for me one day in heaven. His Word promises it.

It was because of Jesus that I could overcome these trials. It was because of His promise that He would never leave me nor forsake me that I felt strong, even though I was physically weak. He made Himself known to me in such a personal way through all of this, and I am forever grateful, because now I have just a taste of “the fellowship of his suffering,” and I have more of a taste of Him. Because of the “power of His resurrection”, not only am I physically and emotionally healed, but I have a daughter and a son….2% miracle! That is overcoming with God!!! Praise God!

Here begins my story. At the age of 5, I was molested. My brother and dad both died in the same year. At 14, I was sexually abused. At 16, raped and sexually abused again at 20. I was told it was all my fault. I went through a lot growing up. I think I could write a book. In the 9^th grade I drank Jack Daniels a lot (a fifth a dog). I got so sick from it. Half way through 9^th grade I was sent away for a couple of days. When I was sexually abused at 20, I was living at home. I was kicked out by my mother and was living in my car for a couple of weeks. I met a guy in 2000 and we got married after a month together. He showed interest and said all the right things to me. In 2001, I had my son. He was so sick and I had him early. He stayed in ICU for 3 weeks. Two days after I took him home, my husband beat me so bad. He gave me a black eye, bruised ribs, busted mouth and so on. My husband drank all the time and was on drugs. In 2002, I had my daughter. I almost died having her. While I was pregnant with her, my husband tried to kill her inside of me. He beat me all the time. I had so many black eyes from him, bruised ribs, and everything else. Two years after that I went to jail for 48 hours. My husband and I both did. He pressed charges on me for hitting him because he was choking me so bad and 2 weeks earlier I had surgery done on my neck. Well after going to jail, we lost our home and my kids and I went from place to place. After about six months, he found us another place to live. I always took him back even though he beat me and cheated on me. My husband always cheated on me because he said I was too fat and ugly. In 2005, we got divorced. I stayed single for awhile. Then I met another guy and things were good for awhile until he hit me, then ran me over with his car, and pulled a gun on me. I couldn’t go through that again or let my kids go through it and I called it off. All of my life, I have been told I was nothing, no good, stupid, ugly, and fat. I was never showed love. I have been betrayed so many times. I never had friends because I have been afraid of getting hurt. I stay to myself and am very shy.

In 2008, I gave my life to God and got into a church. I love my church. They have helped me so much although I don’t know everyone there because I am too shy. But in the past year, God has helped me to deal with my past and to overcome it.

I know all the stuff I went through was not my fault. I know God has a plan for me and He loves me for who I am. You go through stuff to make you strong and to help someone else. I thank God for what I have in my life, my kids, a home and for my church and the people in it. It doesn’t matter what you are going through because someone else could be going through the same thing or worse.

This verse from the Old Testament is one of my favorite verses. Over the years it has come to mean a lot to me, the first time I ever read it I did not understand the verse. However, once I came to know our Lord on a personal level it took on special meaning to me.

I grew up in a large family, the second eldest of seven children. And for whatever the reason I seemed to be the blacksheep of this family. I never felt like I fit in there nor did I belong. Many physical, emotional and verbal situations took place that led me to this feeling of being neither totally alone and not belonging nor being wanted.

My family was not a religious family; we did not attend church regularly. We would go on all the major holidays, regular Sunday attendance was not the rule in our home. What I did not know then but since have come to discover was that both of my grandmother’s (parental and maternal) were very involved in their respective churches. They did raise both my mom and dad in the church and my parents were both in rebellion.

However, as a very young girl I always seemed to want to be in the church. I would go with my next door neighbor to the Methodist church in our town. When I was ten we lived in a small community right next door to the church and I always wanted to be there. It just always made me feel better. It made life in our home bearable for me.

As time went on and I grew into my teenage years I grew away from that feeling that I wanted to be in church. There was no one in my family who took us, and by this time I started to believe and act upon the negative thoughts and ideas that were told to me. I came to decide that maybe those who told me that I was stupid and that I would never amount to anything were right. And therefore I decided to prove they were right.  

 When I was nineteen, I met the father of my two daughters. He was exciting, good looking and a “real bad boy”. My parents totally disliked him and being the rebellious daughter that I was I decided that we needed to be married once he asked me (even though I knew he was into drugs in the worst way). I definitely did not like the drug use; however, being young and naïve I made that age-old mistake of believing that he loved me. That being the case I thought surely that love would be enough to conquer the drug use. What I did not even stop to consider was the fact that we both were “needy and sick people” and the only one who could fix us (Jesus) was not in our lives. Unfortunately, it was not me who left him; it was him who left me for what was supposed to be a friend of mine after eleven years of marriage. He had left on previous occasions; however, the last time I knew in my heart he would not be back. I was totally alone with two children ages 3 and 9, and no self-esteem.   

The night after my husband left I was sitting in my living room with my daughters down the hall asleep in their rooms. I was terrified of being alone. I really felt like I had nothing to live for (pretty sad, that someone would put a man first before their children). However, at this point in my life I was so fragile and weak and not able to see beyond myself. I was sitting there thinking of taking my life. I had some pills in the medicine cabinet and had planned to go take them and be done with this agony. At that precise moment, I happened to look up and spotted a book on my bookcase (my mother-in-law had given me about 9 years earlier). I took that book down and started to read. I read all night and into the wee hours of the morning. Obviously, I did not take my life. Our precious Lord had other plans for me. The book that he had placed in my hands was titled “Two steps forward, three back”. It was written my Charles Swindoll of Fullerton, CA. The Lord used that book in more ways than one to start a major change in my life. I had always been a door mat for my husband to wipe his feet on. When he left us we had no heat (we heated only with wood), and there was no wood chopped and no way to cook because of no wood. We had no running water, no phone out in the middle of the country and he took my car. A car that he made me buy from him (I had to have my sister co-sign). I was planning on going out drinking that night with my youngest brother. My dad had come to my home to fix my cooking and heating situation. When he found out I was going to go out he lit into me. He told me I was married and belonged at home and not in a bar. I did not go out that night. My dad met with my ex-husband even though he did not like him and tried to persuade him to come home. He told him that even if he did not come home my car better be returned to me or else. Fortunately having read that book, when my ex came to bring my car back he tried to con me into letting him keep it longer. That day I found something physically happening to me as I told him no. I had walked one mile, each way in the snow and ice to take the children to a sitter prior to going to work. I would not be able to put them in that situation any longer.

 A week later, on my job (in a factory) I was called a name by a co-worker. I told the co-worker she was right and that I would always stay that way. Little did I know I would be making the biggest change in my life that very night. I was alone in my trailer and many thoughts were going through my head. Being a self-made women, I was contemplating how to fix this situation when all of a sudden I realized I could not. It was at that precise moment (Jan. 6, 1984) that I cried out to the Lord and asked him to help me. I cried and cried out to God asking for his assistance. By the end of the evening, I felt like a hundred pound weight had been lifted. When my mother-in-law came I told her what had happened and she was ecstatic. 

On Sunday, we went to an Assembly of God church in Cortland, NY. I thought I was going to meet the Pastor for marriage counseling. After praying with me Pastor Bob Smith asked, “Is there anything else you need prayer for?”  I said, “Yes, my cigarette addiction (I figured he could pray and I would quit when I wanted. Ha, at that time I was not familiar with Psalm 94:11 The Lord knows the thoughts of man; he knows they are futile, I do now).” So he prayed and asked me did I believe that Jesus was the son of God, and did I believe he could heal me of the cigarettes. I said, “Yes” (however being a newbie I was wondering how to get some cigarettes.) He then asked, “Did I have any cigarettes?” and I handed over 3 packs of Marlboro 100’s. God is so awesome, he not only healed me that day of the addiction of smoking he also took away the desire as well.

I was afraid to be on my own; however, once again security came from the word of God and drawing close to him. He told me in Isaiah 54:5 that he would be my husband. And for almost ten years he was. He told me that my children would never be begging bread and of course they did not. Many times in those early years of becoming a Christian I was awestruck of how the Lord had always been there for me even when I knew him not.

There is so much more that I could write about; however, that will have to wait as it is a books worth and I may need to write my best seller at some point in my life for my living.

One thing I have learned is through Christ I can do all things. He is definitely my refuge and strength.  I have seen many wonderful miracles and answers to prayers.

The salvation of both my mom and dad prior to leaving this earth. They now are at home with him.  The reconciliation of my daughters with their father. In the past 6 months, he has started counseling and as a result now calls his daughters on a regular basis. I love the verse that states with God all things are possible.  

When we had our women’s conference and the Fragrant Oil team came, a woman from the team came to me and spoke a word from the Lord. This woman did not know me or my circumstances, but what she said changed my life. She said that for three years I had been praying about something and that I felt God had forgotten me or I had missed his timing. But she told me that God wanted me to know – He sees me – He hears me, and he would reward my faithfulness. All that had been taken away would be restored.

Those words gave me life! To know that my God loves me enough to send a messenger to tell me personally that he hears my prayers and sees my despair. He loves me! These words not only carried me through the next few months until my husband finally received the transplant he needed, but they are a constant building block for my faith and testimony. These words are not only for me – they are for you!