Welcome to INTO THE LIGHT Journal! This journal is NOT about me but about the GREAT Savior, the LORD JESUS CHRIST and ALL that He has done for me (and NOT what I have done)—who saved and changed(inside-out) a great sinner like me. I don't claim that I know everything about life. But one thing I am certain, that apart from the love and mercies of Christ—I AM NOTHING. "... God forbid that I should boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world."(Galatians 6:14). I’m attesting the words of Charles Spurgeon: "My hope lives not because I am not a sinner but because I am a sinner for whom Christ died; I don’t trust that I am holy but that, being unholy, He is my righteousness. I don't have to be rich, but I must be pure. My faith doesn’t rest upon what I am, or shall be, or feel, or know, but in what Christ IS and what He has done for me. The love of Jesus is the source of salvation. He loves, He looks, He touches us, and we live!" Christ said, "I am the vine, you are the branches. He who abides in Me, and I in him, bears much fruit; for without Me you can do nothing."(John 15:5). For of Him and through Him and to Him are all things, to whom be glory forever. Amen. (Romans 10:36)

Journaling in Christ's throne of grace,

Erlinda Mejia Olson, BSN, RN

Because You Love Her Enough

By: Erlinda Mejia-Olson

PHILIPPIANS 1:9-12 ~ "And this I pray, that your love may abound still more and more in knowledge and all discernment, that you may approve the things that are excellent, that you may be sincere and without offense till the day of Christ, being filled with the fruits of righteousness which are by Jesus Christ, to the glory and praise of God."

My friend Tim always has wisdom to share with me. He knows that young men have to have older and more godly wise men to tell them. As such: who to trust, how to care for others, how to live a meaningful life. How to live life to the fullest.

Not too long ago, Tim lost his wife Vicky over cancer. For the last seven years she fought against such debilitating illness. But in the end, her illness had the final word.

With a peaceful look on his face, Tim took out a folded piece of paper from his wallet. He told me, he had found it, when he tidied up some drawers at home. It was a love letter Vicky had written sometime ago. The letter looks like a school girl's squiggles about her dream guy. The only thing that was missing was a drawing of a heart with the names Tim and Vicky written in it. But the diminutive letter was penned by a woman who had had nine children, a woman who was fighting for her life, and who only had a few months left to live.

Short as it was, it was also a beautiful recipe for how to keep a marriage intact.

Vicky's portraits of her husband begins consequently:  "Loved me" ... "Concerned about me" ... "Took care of me."

Although Tim may always had a ready answer, however he never gagged about cancer. There were instances where he came home in the evening to find Vicky in the midst of one of those depressions cancer patients so often go through. In no time he got her into the car and drove her to her favorite cafe.

He demonstrated an immeasurable amount of kindness, respect, and consideration for her, and she knew it. You cannot hide something from someone who knows you best.

"Helped me when I was sick," so the next line reads. Conceivably, Vicky penned this while she was at the height of cancer's atrocious and astonishing respite. Where all is almost—as it used to be, before the onset of cancer, where it doesn’t hurt to hope that everything is over. Perhaps forever.

She penned more …

"Forgave me a lot." … "Stood by my side" … "Understands always."

Generous enough to give a piece of good advice to anyone who looks on giving constructive criticism as a kind of revered duty:  "Always encouraging ... uplifting!"

"Always made sure I had everything I needed," Vicky goes on to write—then she has turned over the paper and added: "Warmth. Humor. Compassion. Gentleness. Kindness. Thoughtfulness." And then she went on about the husband she has lived with and loved the most of her life: "Always there for me when I needed you."

The final words Vicky penned abridge all the rest. I can picture her for me when she put in unselfishly:  "Good friend."

I am looking at Tim across the coffee table, and cannot even pretend to know how it feels to lose someone who is as close to me as Vicky was to him. I need to hear what he has to say much more than he needs to talk.

So I ask,  "Tim, how do you stay together with someone for 40 years—not to mention the illness?"  "How do I know if I can bear to stand by my wife’s side if she becomes sick someday?"

Then he gently utters, "You can."  "Because you love her enough."  "You can."

And vice versa.

"And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love."
(1 Corinthians 13:13)