An overwhelming sadness

It was an exciting time, and my job provided alot of variety.  Dr. Heine gave me on the job training, and I pricked baby's heels in order to do tests on their blood, helped him with the chiropractic adjustments he did, and pretty much everything else around the office.  Cezar was an interesting character.  He was extremely hard working, to the point that 'workaholic' wasn't an exaggeration.  Rarely did I see him, without studying some new medical journal or preparing for his sermons, when he wasn't stitching someone up or counselling a drunk.  His living quarters were above his medical office, and he had Marc living with him, who did custodial work at the hospital.  He also had Teddy, an Inuit man who struggled with his alcoholism.  I remember having to make sure there was nothing around, especially Listerine for him to drink.  Once in a while, he would stumble into the office, and we'd have to settled him into bed to sleep it off.  Sometimes it felt like we were operating a three ring circus, but Cezar had a good heart.  He had been married earlier in his life, but never seemed to talk about it, and I knew he had a son.  He rarely saw him, I guessed, because I never met him and I was there for a year.  It must have been difficult.  The way Cezar buried himself in his work, it was understandable that his marriage had failed.  It seemed to me that he worked like a 'slave' of God, rather that a son.  That was just my opinion.  We talked about what we believed, and there was a definite disconnect somewhere.  Cezar was very gung-ho on evangelism, but understood the means of grace, or baptism, holy communion and the word of God to be only what comes out of a pastor's mouth!  He said these were the only ways of Christian growth.  I was shocked!  I challenged him, "What about prayer, reading the Bible, fellowshipping with other believers?"  He said none of these could bring growth as a believer, it had to be the 'sacraments'.  We talked about the Holy Spirit, and greatly differed on this subject as well.  I freely told him I had experienced the 'baptism in the Spirit' and knew of His empowering, prayed in tongues, and saw the Holy Spirits role as crucial in our lives.  He very much disagreed, so I set out to try and work with him, and not talk about these things to anyone.  What was curious to me, was how interested he was in evangelism.  He had gone to a weekend conference called Evangelism Explosion, a program I was very familiar with.  His expectation of me was to present the gospel ten times a week!  I was shocked!  How could I do that, I would feel like a JW!  And I had been accustomed to working with one or two others, but I'd be all by myself. 

I spent a fair bit of time in Inuvik amongst the Inuit and Indian peoples, especially those living in abject poverty.  The poverty was mostly because of addictions such as alcohol.  One place I had earlier made an appointment, I arrived only to find that everyone there was drunk on what had been bought with their recent welfare cheques.  It didn't take long for me to realise that I should be going, there was no use for me to hang around.  Harry, completely sloshed, stood in my way in front of the door, slobbered out, "You ain't goin' anywhere honey", to which I chocked out another one of those, "Help me God" prayers.  To my good fortune, Harry's wife Lucy wasn't completely passed out as I thought she was.  She staggered over to the door, heaved with all her might, and pushed Harry over, "Leave her alone, Harry" she screamed.  I was out the door like a flash and running, let me tell you!  Harry got up quickly and yelled obscenities after me, threatening to kill me.  I waited a few days before I went back!  Guess I was a bit too trusting for my own good.  What I found there made me cry.  Lucy was sprawled out on the step as she had been obviously beaten and passed out.  Their 4 year old daughter was standing in snow with just panties on and crying over her Mom.  It bewildered me, as I wasn't accustomed to seeing things like this.  A woman next door volunteered information.  She said this was a common occurrence in their household, and in fact their small daughter had put out a fire in the house that would have surely killed them all.  As I didn't know what else to do, I phoned social services.  Someone came and picked up the little girl, only to return her after a few days when everyone sobered up.  There wasn't enough safe places to take children.  I remember hearing of a baby who died from exposure, who was completely neglected because of so much drinking.  I actually had two different Inuit roommates up there, each of them had brothers who had killed their wives in a drunken rage.  Living there was an eye opener. 

One day I knocked on the door of an apartment and was greeted by a thirty-something Caucasian woman.  As usual, I introduced myself and that I was from the Lutheran church, and could I come in and talk with her about issues of faith?  She agreed, but when I came through the door and noticed the huge burly looking man in the kitchen, I got a little scared.  She motioned for me to come into the living room, where there was an unbelievable commotion going on.  There were cats, dogs and kids running, chasing around, screaming at the top of their lungs.  I wondered how this could ever work!  I breathed another one of those quick 'help me God' prayers, and please don't let that huge guy in there toss me out into a snow bank!  Our conversation progressed to the point where we were discussing how does one get to heaven, and why should God let us into heaven anyway?  Wouldn't you know, that's when the big guy decides to come and join us!  Well, I have to admit, the rest of my presentation was anything but good.  I am quite sure I was visibly shaking!  But I was completely shocked when I asked a question as to whether or not she wanted Christ in her life?  Not only did she, but her husband did as well!  Plus, later on, they wanted to be baptised along with their kids, and I got to be one of the sponsors!  Thank God that it wasn't my skillful presentation of the gospel, but it was the Holy Spirit doing his work, preparing hearts and changing lives.  What a good lesson for me to learn.

On one Wednesday (it was Cezar and my day off), I got a desperate phone call from Anastasia.  She was a Catholic lady, one of Cezar's patients and she was adamant that she needed to see Cezar that day.  Apologetically, I said that was impossible, as Cezar always made himself scarce on his day off, probably so he could keep his sanity.  He liked to spend time outdoors, and there was no way to reach him.  Alternately, I asked if I could stop by on my way to do volunteer work at the hospital.  It was a short walk, and not too far out of my way. When I arrived, Anastasia seemed quite frantic, and complained of sharp pains in her swollen abdomen, she was hemorrhaging badly and she felt very weak.  I tried to encourage her, not knowing what to do, I asked if I could pray for her.  She really wanted me to, so I proceeded.  I reminded her that Jesus is the same yesterday, today and forever.  That He is able to do far more abundantly than all we ask or even dare to imagine.  I said that when Jesus walked on earth, there was a woman who had bleed for 12 years, and she just touched the hem of His garment, and immediately the bleeding stopped.  I told her that Jesus was there in that room, and that He could do the same thing for her, if she reached out by faith and 'touched Him'.  My commitment at the hospital was very soon, so I had to excuse myself, but I promised to get in touch as soon as I was able to.  An hour or so later, I got home to the phone ringing.  I picked up the receiver and I heard, "It happened, it happened, just like you said it would"  Shocked, I questioned, "What?"  Anastasia told me that just as soon as I left, the bleeding stopped, the swelling went down, and the pain was gone.  I couldn't believe it!  It obviously wasn't any great faith on my part, because when it actually happened, I was stunned!   I'm so thankful that it isn't our great faith, but rather a 'mustard-seed' faith in a great God that works miracles!  It was a good lesson for me!

With all these things happening, you would think I would be very excited.  Quite the opposite was happening.  Even though people were coming to Christ and I was witnessing miracles, I was sad.  Every day that went by, I seemed to get sadder.  I just couldn't understand it.  I searched my heart, I plead with God to change me, to bring me close to Him.  I felt like I was falling away from Him, was losing my first love.  I often would cry and didn't know why.  Things became a struggle, everything did.  I started felling like such a hypocrite.  Thankfully, I still attended on Thursdays an inter-denominational evening that was held at Terry and Blanche Buckles place.  They were a wonderful loving couple who ministered in the Anglican church in Inuvik.  We would always have a refreshing evening of worship and praise, and pray for each other.  There were people from all the various denominations who attended; Catholic, Pentecostal, Baptist, Lutheran, Anglican.  Many times I asked for prayer, as I certainly wasn't myself.  This thing called depression had reared its ugly head, but I didn't know what it was and how to change myself.

Cezar noticed that I wasn't myself.  He sat me down, and talked about leading a balanced life (not sure he was!)  He spoke of the need for personal life, church, community, friends, etc. in a balance.  That sounded like good advice, so I tried to no avail to have balance in my life.  One of my biggest problems was that I could not sleep.  Little did I know that sleep deprivation would be my experience throughout my life when I was depressed or the opposite, manic.  I am getting ahead of myself now!  When Cezar saw that things were getting more desperate for me, he suggested that I go home to my family for Christmas.  He thought that might cheer me up.  Unfortunately, the opposite happened.  I was very unhappy, but tried hard not to show it, but everyone knew.  What they couldn't do was to cheer me up.  It just made me feel worse that I wasn't happy to see them!  It was very strange.  A week later, I was on my way back to Inuvik very sad  and feeling quite hopeless.  This wasn't the way a Christian should be, I thought!  I came back to my apartment to find that 16 year old Bonny, who I allowed to stay with me, had trashed the place.  She had a drunken binge while I was away, which did not help matters.  I asked her to leave, but gave her some of the food that I had bought to help her.  A couple of weeks later, I got a nasty phone bill that was several hundred dollars.  While I was away, she had called long distance to Yellowknife many times.  I called the phone company, but of course was responsible for all the calls she had made.  One of the things I struggled with was being too trusting.

One day during office hours, Pastor Terry Buckle phoned me.  The Lord had spoken to him that morning from James 5:14-16, and he was sure it pertained to me.  He asked if I would be willing to meet with him and Linda that evening, and just do what the scripture said to.  Of course I was willing, but inwardly I doubted if anything would come of it.  I was feeling so hopeless, and this had dragged on for 8 months now.  That evening we met in the quiet sanctuary, and Terry instructed me that they would pray, as I sat and wrote down everything that was bothering me.  That was alot!  The thoughts of so many bad things I had done, how inadequate I felt I was, and on and on I wrote.  After quite some time, I went in and told them I thought I was finished.  We went to the altar, and as this passage admonishes us to do, to "confess our sins one to another, and pray for one another, that you may be healed."  That is exactly what happened.  It was a humbling experience to confess before people that I admired and looked up to so much, and then after, Terry anointed me with oil, and they lay their hands on me and prayed for me.  He assured me that I was forgiven, and prayed for protection for me against the enemy.  What I felt, I can only describe as liquid love was poured on my head, and it flowed through my whole being.  It was amazing!  I walked home, feeling so elated and so filled with the love of God.  I wondered if this would be gone by morning.  The next day, I woke up feeling fully alive, so grateful to be alive!  It felt as though I was on a honeymoon, but with Jesus!  Thankfulness and joy were my constant companions.  What a difference!

Everyone who met me noticed the change.  Cezar did not seem to like the change.  It seemed like the happier I became, the sadder he was.  It seemed rather strange, but he accused me of putting this on, he would get angry at the smallest things.  And I kept asking God to help me to love him more, I chose to forgive him when he mistreated me.  I was not going to go back to the way I felt before.