SAYING GOODBYE TO CLARK

The first time Clark Field was bombed by the Japanese, everyone on duty knew the plan. At the hospital, the patients were to be moved to the basement of the building where they had the best chance of not being injured. Several storage rooms had been cleared of furniture, scrubbed clean, and made ready for the patients. The bombs kept falling, but not one hit the hospital. The Japanese kept up a continuous barrage every day for almost three weeks. And each time, everyone had to take cover. This lasted from December 8^th until the 24^th, Christmas Eve. The day before, Sally and a new nurse named Ann were off duty. Ann had been moved from Stermmer Hospital to help out. They decided to go swimming, and both being Midwest girls, they thought donning their bathing suits in December was crazy.  They had a grand time. It was good they didn’t get caught because the head nurse would not have thought it was cute at all.

The next day, things began to change rapidly. The bombs were getting closer and closer to the hospital, and the powers that be decided the patients and the medical staff had to be evacuated. The patients were loaded onto trains, and the medical staff came on board to make sure IVs were still inserted and bandages had not slipped. A small number of doctors and nurses stayed on the train and rode with the patients to Manila. The others were getting ready to board a bus when the air raid siren went off. They all had to take cover and there was a great scramble to get someplace safe. Sally saw a culvert and thought that was a terrific place to take cover. She crawled into a drainage pipe so small, she could not use her arms to move forward; she had to shimmy in. She took a deep breath and then realized there was an iguana not much smaller than her staring face to face at her. She tried to shimmy right back out of the culvert, but she was wearing riding boots, and one got stuck. The iguana did not look happy. Sally couldn’t move. It was a wartime standoff between woman and lizard. Sally shimmied harder and finally got her foot unstuck. She nearly bolted out of the culvert and came face to face with the cook from the nurses’ barracks.

“Oh, Missy Blaine, Missy Blaine, Missy Blaine!” he said, wringing his hands. “I want to help you but I could not do so!”

“I’m okay now,” Sally said, “and the bombs seem to have quit for the moment. Let’s make a run for the buses.”

HEY, EVERYONE! I’m pleased to announce that we have a winner of the Name The Book Contest! My friend Michele Hein submitted the winning title: MERCY MORE THAN LIFE: SALLY BLAINE MILLETT, WWII NURSE. For having the winning title, Michele will receive an autographed and personalized copy of the book when it is published, and she will be included in the acknowledgments page as the person who chose the title. CONGRATULATIONS, MICHELE!

RABBITT HOLE: THE HISTORY OF US MILITARY NURSES

I have “gone down a rabbit hole” today. What this means is that I started out sincerely doing research for Aunt Sally’s book, but I got lost reading about things I don’t intend to use, but they are interesting, nonetheless. Today’s “rabbit hole” is about the history of the military nursing staff in the United States. So here goes…

The thirteen original colonies which became the United States of America organized the Continental Army to fight the Revolutionary War of 1776. “Nurses” were needed to care for the sick and wounded soldiers. They were mothers, wives, and sisters of the troops. Their medical training was scant, and some were more acquainted with assisting their neighbors in labor and delivery. They cared for military casualties in tent hospitals and requisitioned private homes. They also cleaned the makeshift dispensaries, did laundry, made the meals, and managed the inventory of needed supplies.

Between the Revolutionary War and the Civil War, military nurses were not needed. But when war broke out between our own citizens, the battles were widespread in the North and the South, and casualties required nurses again. More than 3000 female and about 500 male volunteers worked dressing wounds, feeding, and bathing patients, and attending the dying. Many nurses fell ill themselves since they seldom got enough rest and were exposed to contagious diseases. In 1898, when the Spanish American War commenced, fifteen hundred contract nurses were mobilized, working to quell yellow fever, malaria, and other tropical diseases. These professional nurses’ efforts ushered in a permanent female nurse corps in the Army.

After the Spanish American War, the number of Army nurse corps members shrank to 220. The number rose to 450 during the Mexican border uprising in 1916. World War I saw nursing numbers swelling to 21,460 officers with 10,000 serving oversees in 1918. African American nurses were also admitted to the Nursing Corps for the first time. But segregation policies prevented them from rising in the military ranks until the War was over. By that time, it was estimated that one-third of all American nurses had served in the Army.

US military nurses continued working in hospitals and mobile units, displaying flexibility and focus on a variety of assignments from hospital trains in France to transport ships carrying wounded soldiers across the Atlantic. They were stationed at permanent facilities in the continental US, France, Hawaii, Puerto Rico, and the Philippines. In 1920, Army nurses were allowed to progress from second Lieutenant to Major, although their pay remained half that of men of the same rank. From patients to active generals, the nurses’ outstanding performance was celebrated. This support, along with organized nurses lobbying for better treatment and higher pay, led to improving opportunities for these women. Their diligence began to pay off, but still lagged behind the men in service.

Onto this scene emerged our heroine, Ethel “Sally” Blaine Millett.

NEXT WEEK: NO RABBIT HOLES JUST MOREOF SALLY’S STORY!

Source: American Nurse Corps Association  https://e-anca.org/History/ANC-Eras/1901-1940

A NEW DIRECTION

The Story of an Angel (Aunt Sally’s Book)

Greetings to all my blog followers! It’s been almost a year since I last posted. A lot has happened in that time, and I am definitely starting a new chapter in my life. To date, I have four titles published and on the market (two of which are compilations of the posts I wrote for this Christian devotional blog). I am now embarking on a new book project which doesn’t even have a name yet! The contest to select the book name ended at midnight on September 30th, and some friends and I will be choosing the winner soon. Since we don’t have a name yet, I will call the book, The Story of an Angel (Aunt Sally’s Book) for now.

So just who is this Aunt Sally I speak of? She was my dad’s younger sister who became a decorated military hero at the end of World War II. I am writing a book about her life, and I will be posting weekly, every Monday morning, letting you in on what I’m writing about. I will share some of the amazing research I’ll be doing, and maybe information about a few stray rabbit holes I go down which might be of interest to my readers. You will be part of this journey, and I will welcome comments and information you may have about this segment of history. (Come on, Blaine Cousins! It’s your chance to get involved!) If you don’t want to continue with my blog, please see the unsubscribe feature at the bottom of this page. But I would love it if you will at least read the first couple of blogs, and I hope you stick with me on this whole journey!

Here is a very short version of Aunt Sally’s story:

Adapted from the Pacific War Museum Oral History recorded by Ethel “Sally” Blaine Millett: Ethel “Sally” Blaine Millett grew up in northeast Missouri and went to nurses training in San Diego, California. She volunteered to go to the Philippines and arrived there in June of 1941. Life was a paradise of normal shifts at the hospital and plenty of social life in this flower-filled paradise in the Pacific. On December 8, 1941, just hours after the bombing of Pearl Harbor, Sally witnessed the bombing at Clark Field and rushed to the still-intact hospital. The nurses took care of the soldiers wounded by Japanese strafing. Because of continued Japanese bombing all over the Philippines, about 100 nurses and 50 doctors, along with thousands of patients, had to keep moving as the hospitals became threatened or destroyed. Soon, medical staff and patients were retreating to the jungles of the Bataan Peninsula. The patients were “hidden” from view to the Japanese because of the dense jungle growth. The “hospitals” were open-air; the only things covered were the medical records. For the first time in history, the all-female nurse corps were allowed to wear fatigues on duty in the open jungle, instead of their regulation white starched dresses and caps. Sally described having malaria and then having to evacuate from Bataan to the island of Corregidor. Sally was among several nurses who were being moved because they were so ill. Their sea plane bottomed out landing at Mindanao to refuel. Here they were captured by the Japanese and eventually moved to Santo Tomas, a POW camp the Japanese had created on the campus of a Jesuit university in Manila. Sally described losing her possessions, and the difficulties in the internment camp: the food, the work required, the sanitary conditions, the self-government, the birthrate, and the entertainment. She also described executions. Sally had to undergo surgery while at Santo Tomas. Finally, the American soldiers arrived, and she took a plane home in February 1945. Her brother met her in San Francisco. She and others who served in the Bataan and Corregidor campaigns were welcomed home as war heroes and were eventually awarded medals of commendation for their service in the Philippines.

NEXT WEEK: A humble beginning for our war hero!

Grace and Peace,

Meg Blaine Corrigan

CALL ME ISRAEL

Jacob was left alone; and a man wrestled with him until daybreak….Then he said, “Let me go….” But Jacob said, “I will not let you go, unless you bless me.” So he said to him, “What is your name?” And he said, “Jacob.” Then the man said, “You shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with humans, and have prevailed.” Genesis 32:24, 26-28

 

Jacob wrestled with “a man” on the banks of a river on his way back to Canaan. Various interpretations of this story portray the “man” as an angel, a prophetic vision, the Christ, or even God the Father. Jacob prevailed in this wrestling match, which seems unlikely to happen if the “man” were God. But prevail he does, and then this “man” asks Jacob his name. When Jacob tells him, the “man” tells Jacob his name is now to be “Israel” (which literally means “contends with God). Jacob then believes that he has “seen God face to face, and yet (his) life is preserved.”

 

This story reminds me about all the times, mostly in the middle of the night, when I have “contended with God.” When sleep evades me, my thoughts often turn to the things in my life that do not seem fair or right. I discuss these things with God, often with tears and silent rage. “Why did a twelve-year old girl at our church have to die?” “What can I do to help my four-year old great-granddaughter with her delayed speech when I live so far away?” “How can I stop using swear words when I get angry?” “How can I stop getting angry?” “When will I be able to balance my checkbook and clean out my closets?” Usually, I end up making peace with God for the moment, and then I sing myself to sleep. I almost never feel that I have “prevailed” in my struggles with God, not because He is stronger than I am, but because He is more patient and forgiving than I am. His grace has always allowed me to commune with Him through prayer. I eventually come to a place where I accept that seeking His will is a better choice than my continuing to complain.

 

Lord, You showed us through Jacob that it’s okay to “wrestle” with You. Thank You for loving us even then. Amen

 

Both candid and humorous, insightful and ponderous, Meg Blaine Corrigan’s memoir, Then I Am Strong: Moving From My Mother’s Daughter to God’s Child, takes the reader through her chaotic childhood with an alcoholic mother and enabling father to a violent assault that nearly ended her life. She populates her tale with vivid descriptions of her parents, other influential adults, the attacker, and her disastrous first marriage. But this story has a happy ending, when Meg finds solace in a God she didn’t think she’d ever believe in, when He gently helps her heal from her past lives and move into the best times of her life. Meg has also written a novel, Perils of a Polynesian Percussionist, about said first marriage, as well as a Christian devotional, Saints With Slingshots: Daily Devotions for the Slightly Tarnished But Perpetually Forgiven Christian, comprised of blogs from this site. Stay tuned for sequels to her last two books! All of her works may be purchased through her website, www.MegCorrigan.com or from www.amazon.com .

BEST HOPES, WORST FEARS

Do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Look at the birds of the air….your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? Matthew 6:25-34

 

I have always said my spiritual gift is worrying. Being raised by an alcoholic mother and co-dependent father, I grew up assuming the worst would always happen in my life because that’s all I ever knew. I’m working to grow and change, and I want to share some things I’ve learned.

 

Matthew 6:25-34 was one of the verses my husband and I used in our marriage ceremony. The passage reminds me that it is human nature to worry some of the time, so I shouldn’t be too hard on myself. But Jesus is saying that God cares even for the little birds in the sky, so why would we doubt that He cares for each of us? Yes, bad things happen in life, but our faith will and does sustain us, even in the worst of times. A friend said recently that, when a bird lands on the highest branch of a tree, the bird doesn’t trust the branch; he trusts his wings. And another friend, who happens to be a retired biology teacher, added that a bird’s wings are porous so they can be both light and strong. A third friend added that our attitudes and perceptions are “an inside job.” In other words, it’s not the branches in life that we trust; it’s our own wings—the strength we possess inside—that keeps us afloat.

 

Mark Twain once said, “I’ve been through some terrible things in my life, and some of them actually happened.” Worry must be viewed as a tremendous waste of time. If we worry in advance, we tell ourselves, we will somehow be more prepared if something bad does happen. But our best hope is just as likely to occur as our worst fear. We would do well to think, “What is the most productive thing I can do at this moment?” In the words of A.J. Cronin, “Worry never robs tomorrow of its sorrow; it only saps today of its strength.”

 

Lord, when I start to worry, remind me of those birds You care so much for and strengthen my wings of faith. Amen

 

Both candid and humorous, insightful and ponderous, Meg Blaine Corrigan’s memoir, Then I Am Strong: Moving From My Mother’s Daughter to God’s Child, takes the reader through her chaotic childhood with an alcoholic mother and enabling father to a violent assault that nearly ended her life. She populates her tale with vivid descriptions of her parents, other influential adults, the attacker, and her disastrous first marriage. But this story has a happy ending, when Meg finds solace in a God she didn’t think she’d ever believe in, when He gently helps her heal from her past lives and move into the best times of her life. Meg has also written a novel, Perils of a Polynesian Percussionist, about said first marriage, as well as a Christian devotional, Saints With Slingshots: Daily Devotions for the Slightly Tarnished But Perpetually Forgiven Christian, comprised of blogs from this site. Stay tuned for sequels to her last two books! All of her works may be purchased through her website, www.MegCorrigan.com or from www.amazon.com .

GLOTTAL STOP

We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. Romans 8:26

 

When I was in my twenties, I played percussion for several years in a Polynesian show band. I fell in love with the Hawaiian culture, their gentle “aloha” spirit, their customs, and even their language. Although I never learned to speak Hawaiian, I memorized the words of many of the songs we performed and learned some basic vocabulary and phrases. Many years later, I wrote a novel based on my experiences during the time I was with the show. Since I wanted to portray the Polynesian culture as accurately as I could, I contacted a Hawaiian friend here in my home state of Minnesota to advise me on All Things Hawaiian. She delivered in spades. She not only proofread my book for accuracy, but she insisted that I use the thirteenth “letter” of the Hawaiian alphabet, the “glottal stop,” which looks like this: ‘. You may think that I just typed an apostrophe, but the glottal stop is straight, not slanted. The best example of the usage of this “hiatus” is in the name of the Island State, Hawai’i. In between the two “i’s” at the end of the word is something like the English oh-oh. In Hawaiian, the glottal stop is similar to a consonant, the second most common in the language which appears frequently and is often left out by non-natives trying to speak the language.

 

My Hawaiian friend’s conscientious editing of my novel reminds me of how the Holy Spirit steps in when we struggle in prayer. We cannot think of the words to say to God; we stumble and stutter and find ourselves at a loss to know what to say to our wonderful, loving Creator. When this happens, we have a special “Editor” who comes to our aid and “groans” with just the right intonation and all the special meaning we are trying to convey. Just like the Hawaiian language would not be complete without the glottal stop accenting many of its lovely words, the Holy Spirit makes sure that we can tell our Lord what’s on our mind in the most meaningful way possible.

 

Holy Spirit, come to us when we are at a loss for words. Help us express to the Triune God what is on our hearts. Amen

 

Meg Blaine Corrigan is the author of three books: Then I Am Strong: Moving From My Mother’s Daughter to God’s Child; Perils of a Polynesian Percussionist; and Saints With Slingshots: Daily Devotions for the Slightly Tarnished But Perpetually Forgiven Christian. She holds a Master’s Degree in Counseling from the University of New Mexico and has over thirty years’ experience working with survivors of domestic violence, sexual assault, war veterans, and other trauma survivors.  Her books may be purchased through her website, www.MegCorrigan.com or from www.amazon.com .

TELL YOUR HEART

Ananias answered, “Lord, I have heard from many about this man, how much evil he has done to Your saints in Jerusalem; and here he has authority from the chief priests to bind all who invoke Your name.” But the Lord said to him, “Go, for he is an instrument whom I have chosen to bring My name before Gentiles and kings and before the people of Israel.” Acts 9:13-15

 

Musicians Phillips, Craig and Dean recorded a song in 2012 called “Tell Your Heart To Beat Again.” The song was inspired by a heart surgeon who was attempting to massage a heart to make it beat again following open heart surgery. The heart wouldn’t start, and more measures did not help. The surgeon finally did the most incredible thing: he knelt next to the patient, removed his mask, and spoke directly into her ear. “Miss Johnson,” he said, “This is your surgeon. The operation went perfectly. Your heart has been repaired. Now tell your heart to beat again.” The heart began to beat immediately.

 

This story reminds me of Saul’s conversion. A zealous Jew who did not believe Jesus was the son of God, Saul was on his way to Damascus, with written authority to arrest and even kill followers of Christ. But Christ met Saul on the road, asking him “Why are you persecuting me?” Then Christ caused Saul to lose his sight (Acts 9:109). He had to be led into Damascus, but Christ had more surprises for him. A righteous man named Ananias saw a vision from the Lord telling him he was to find Saul and teach him about the risen Christ. Ananias objected strenuously because he feared Saul’s wrath against Christ’s followers. But the Lord insisted that Saul (later called Paul) was the one He had chosen to carry Christ’s name and message to the people (Acts 9:13-15). Ananias met with Paul, and “immediately something like scales fell from his eyes, and his sight was restored” (Acts 9:18). The Lord could have given back Paul’s sight and shown him all he needed to learn. But like the heart surgeon speaking gently to his patient, the Lord chose a person to bring Paul into the wonderful light of Christ’s love and forgiveness.

 

Lord, thank You for the people in our lives who bring us healing and hope with their words and their faith. Amen

 

Meg Blaine Corrigan finds ideas for her devotional blogs in everyday places and events, from comic strips to magazines and books, comments on the fly from people she meets, ancient memories of her childhood, and nigglings from God. Meg has written a Christian devotional blog for several years that has been read in over 40 countries by 9000 people. A compilation of blogs, Saints With Slingshots: Daily Devotions for the Slightly Tarnished But Perpetually Forgiven Christian, was published in 2015. Meg is working on a second book (Saints TWO) which she has hopes of completing by Christmas, 2020. Her first book, Then I Am Strong: Moving From My Mother’s Daughter to God’s Child, is a memoir about her childhood with an alcoholic mother and a co-dependent father. The book also chronicles Meg’s astounding rescue from the hands of a gun-wielding rapist, a tragedy turned holy, a powerful message of hope in her darkest hour. Meg is a retired college counselor and former social worker. Meg enjoys spending time with her husband, their four daughters and spouses, ten grandchildren and two great-grandchildren, as well as their rescue dog, Bassett/Beagle mix Ginger. Meg and her husband Patrick play and sing in the contemporary worship band at their church, Christ Lutheran in Lake Elmo, Minnesota. She also volunteers with sexual violence/sex trafficking prevention and education. She speaks to groups whenever she if offered the opportunity. She is a voracious reader of other people’s writing, which gives her lots of ideas for more devotional blogs. Read more about her at www.MegCorrigan.com or contact her at MegCorrigan@comcast.net .

BIG LIES

The righteous hate what is false, but the wicked make themselves a stench and bring shame on themselves. Proverbs 13:5

 

Of all the lies in the world—individual, corporate, political and all the rest—some of the most disturbing lies I’ve ever heard were told by Tara Westover’s father, recounted in her gripping memoir, Educated. Westover was raised in a family of fundamentalist Mormon survivalists on a remote mountain farm in Idaho. Tara describes her father as one of the most dysfunctional individuals ever to walk the face of the earth. He believed the US government could not be trusted and often told of other Mormon families who had been murdered at the hands of law enforcement agents. No one could be trusted outside the family, but the father himself could be trusted least of all. He regarded his numerous children as free labor, engaging them in work that put their lives at risk daily. Numerous injuries occurred under his watch, but he did not believe in taking his family members to a hospital. All injuries and illnesses were treated at home by Tara’s mother, who studied folk medicine. An older brother who had suffered several closed head injuries preyed on Tara and filled her life with terror. Because the family did not believe in public education, Tara was seventeen the first time she set foot in a traditional classroom. But a spark in her spirit and the example of another brother seeking schooling set Tara on a journey to obtain a formal education. She completed advanced degrees at both Harvard and Cambridge, finding that education was her way out of her former way of life.

 

Tara’s father believed himself to be more righteous than anyone else alive. He perpetrated horrendous lies and egregious treatment on his children, creating a profoundly dysfunctional family. Tara and one brother were the only ones who were able to escape and make lives for themselves. But their freedom was hard won, and their healing will need to be ongoing.

 

Proverbs 13:5 provides a picture into what God thinks about wicked people, especially those who mislead children and the downtrodden. Matthew 12:37 says, “On the day of judgment people will give account for every careless word they speak, for by your words you will be justified…(or)…condemned.”

 

Gentle Healer, make a way where there is no way for abused children to find peace. Amen

 

Meg Blaine Corrigan tells stories of wisdom, strength, fear, joy and risk-taking. Daughter of a raging alcoholic mother, and survivor of sexual assault at gunpoint, Corrigan has shaken a dismal past and flung herself into the arms of Christ, Who sustains her in her daily walk of grace. She shares with her listeners her incredible story of surviving and thriving through many trials during her seven decades walking this fragile earth. She has been described as a Renaissance Woman, integrating her formal training in psychology and counseling, an enlightening experience as a percussionist for a Polynesian show troupe, and most recently as an inspirational author and blogger, to the delight of all who read her work and hear her speak. Her exposure to many life experiences has enriched her passion for spreading Christ’s word and helping other trauma survivors. She has a master’s degree in Guidance and Counseling and thirty-plus years of experience in the field of counseling and social work.  She lives in Lake Elmo, Minnesota, with the love of her life, Patrick, and their formerly disenfranchised rescue dog Ginger. www.MegCorrigan.com    MegCorrigan@comcast.net

DANCING WITH RATTLESNAKES

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Make me to know Your ways, O Lord; teach me your paths. Lead me in Your truth, and teach me, for You are the God of my salvation; for You I wait all day long. Psalm 25:4-5

 

When I was young, I had a “bomb proof” horse named Lito. Nothing bothered that little horse; she never fussed or bucked or reared up or even tried to nip me. She was as trustworthy as the day is long, but I didn’t really appreciate her until one day my friend and I were riding on a trail in the Colorado mountains near where we lived. I was enjoying the smooth gate Lito always delivered, until suddenly, she did a “Boot Skootin’ Boogie” sideways for about ten yards, into the grass and brush off the trail. I started to scold her when my friend said, “Look! There is a rattler crossing the path where she was!” Sure enough, Lito had dodged a true disaster without dumping me off her back in the process. A Western Diamondback Rattlesnake was slithering across the gravel into the grass. Since rattlers always travel in pairs, my friend and I reigned our horses in a different direction to avoid both the snakes. And I gave Lito an extra measure of grain that evening in appreciation for her quick and safe reaction.

 

How many times in my life has God intervened when I didn’t even realize I was in danger, or that I was about to make a foolish choice with dire consequences? I can think of dozens, beginning with God’s mighty rescue when I narrowly escaped with my life from the hands of a gun-wielding rapist. Throughout my days, God has steered me away from opportunities that might have looked good from the outside but would likely have been disastrous if I had chosen the wrong path. Potential job opportunities that fell apart, boyfriends that were obviously not a good fit for me, purchases that I didn’t make, and on and on. Time after time, God has been there to divert me from metaphorical rattlesnakes in my path (often traveling in pairs!).

 

Psalm 25 is a testimony to the wisdom of following God’s path. The psalmist asks God to make known the truest ways to follow, and the wisdom that only God can impart.

 

Sweet Lord, save us from rattlesnakes and wayward ways. Amen

 

Both candid and humorous, insightful and ponderous, Meg Blaine Corrigan’s memoir, Then I Am Strong: Moving From My Mother’s Daughter to God’s Child, takes the reader through her chaotic childhood with an alcoholic mother and enabling father to a violent assault that nearly ended her life. She populates her tale with vivid descriptions of her parents, other influential adults, the attacker, and her disastrous first marriage. But this story has a happy ending, when Meg finds solace in a God she didn’t think she’d ever believe in, when He gently helps her heal from her past lives and move into the best times of her life. Meg has also written a novel, Perils of a Polynesian Percussionist, about said first marriage, as well as a Christian devotional, Saints With Slingshots: Daily Devotions for the Slightly Tarnished But Perpetually Forgiven Christian, comprised of blogs from this site. Stay tuned for sequels to her last two books! All of her works may be purchased through her website, www.MegCorrigan.com or from www.amazon.com .

TOLERANCE FOR AMBIGUITY

Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge? Gird up your loins like a man, I will question you, and you shall declare to Me. Job 38:2-3

 

In my master’s program for counseling, we studied “tolerance for ambiguity,” or the ability to manage uncertainty in which an outcome is unknown. Life is full of situations when we are not certain what will happen. A 2018 study at Brown University found that people who can handle uncertainty are more likely to trust others and cooperate in seeking solutions to problems. This makes sense because trusting others means we have to take a risk that what they say to us is true and what they say they will do, they will do. This trust allows us to work with others to solve problems, within our families or work or church. Embarking on group projects automatically means we don’t know the exact outcome, But sometimes the outcome can be much more than we expected or hoped for.

 

A case study in tolerance for ambiguity is the Bible story of Job. Psychology Today Magazine columnist Dr. Mark Banschick has an interesting commentary on how Job, a man with faith, health, wealth, wisdom, and a large and close family experiences numerous undeserved traumas. The book opens with God telling Satan what a good man Job is. Satan challenges God that surely Job will not maintain his faith if he loses everything. God says, “You’re on,” and the tragedy begins. Job loses livestock, possessions, family, his own health and much more…but he never once denounces God. Then Job’s “friends” arrive. They argue, “You must have sinned (really bad),” “There’s a grand plan (and you don’t know it),” “You’re really mad at God (so admit it).” But still Job persists in his faith. He asks God what’s going on, and God answers him loud and clear. In fact, in Chapter 38, God wallops Job: “Who do you think you are? YOU didn’t create the universe and set the world in motion!” Job might have been terrified of God’s judgment, but what this faithful, good man saw was that God cared enough to come down and be with Job in his sorrow and pain. And that’s what He does for all of us when we experience trauma.

 

Almighty God, we thank You that you comfort us when we are afflicted and traumatized. Amen

 

Meg Blaine Corrigan is the author of three books: Then I Am Strong: Moving From My Mother’s Daughter to God’s Child; Perils of a Polynesian Percussionist; and Saints With Slingshots: Daily Devotions for the Slightly Tarnished But Perpetually Forgiven Christian. She holds a Master’s Degree in Counseling from the University of New Mexico and has over thirty years’ experience working with survivors of domestic violence, sexual assault, war veterans, and other trauma survivors.  Her books may be purchased through her website, www.MegCorrigan.com or from www.amazon.com .