Journal

What’s In a Name?

When I first started thinking about publishing my books, I thought Kathleen Anderson would be a perfect author name. It was me, but not me. It flowed off the tongue in a historical author-y sort of way. It sounded classy and professional. BUT, it was a name that also belonged to seventy billion other women in the United States alone. Sadly, it is not the name to use when you wanted to be found. As an author, you want to be found.

My agent suggested I find a pen name. I didn’t want a name so far removed from myself that I didn’t recognize it as me, so we settled on Kathleen Joyce. Again, it was me, but not me. I’ve answered to that name a few times in my life. I’ve walked across a stage twice to receive a diploma when that name was called. I’ve felt the dread that name brought when I’d either shocked, angered or extremely disappointed one or both of my parents. That name was written on my birth certificate and my wedding invitations. I could get used to Kathleen Joyce.

Furthermore, I liked the name because it reminded me of the other special people in my life who share the name with me. There’s a beloved niece who shares the first half and an equally beloved aunt who shares the second. So, I designed this website and a Facebook author page under that name.

Fast forward several years to when I receive a comment on my author page asking when my next mystery is going to release. Problem is, I don’t write mysteries. Yup. There’s another author out there by the name of Kathleen Joyce. Again, I have a name that is not suitable when you want to be found as YOU and not someone else.

 I sat down with my agent again and discussed it. She looked at my Instagram account and then my Facebook page and said, “Kathy Geary Anderson. That’s you.” She was right. That IS me. No one else (that I now of) has that exact combination of names. If you are searching for me on Google, with those three names you’ll find me. And only me.

So, for those of you who’ve walked this writing journey with me, thanks for sticking with me through name changes and revamped websites. I’m fairly certain this change will be the last.

The Dreaded Mustache and Feather Duster

An old Indiana law declares mustaches illegal if the bearer habitually kisses other people.  And in Texas it’s still against the law to dust public buildings with a feather duster. Weird, right?

Maybe. Maybe not.

Laws are often an effort to control what we fear. But what can be so fearful about a mustached man who likes to kiss and a feather duster, you ask?

Here’s a possible answer. Tuberculosis.

Sure, it’s not frightening to most of us today, but less than a hundred years ago tuberculosis was every bit as frightening as cancer. One statistic states that by the beginning of the 19th century, tuberculosis had killed 1 in 7 of all people who had ever lived. By the early 20th century, tuberculosis consistently ranked as one of the top three causes of death in the United States. Few families escaped its effect.

Up until the mid-1800s the medical field considered TB (or consumption as it was known then) a hereditary disease. If someone in your family died of consumption and you had a fragile disposition, chances were you’d get it too. Chalk it up to unlucky genes. But things shifted in 1882 when Robert Koch announced his discovery of the tubercle bacillus and initiated the germ theory of how diseases were spread. By the turn of the 20th century, scientists accepted that TB was spread from droplets of saliva from infected individuals.

Treatment of the infected patient changed as hundreds of TB sufferers were isolated into sanitariums. When scientists discovered the tuberculosis bacteria could survive up to six months in the dust of dark places, women’s hemlines were shortened and housekeepers were instructed to use damp cloths and mops rather than brooms and feather dusters to eliminate dust. When news spread that facial hair could harbor deadly germs, beards and mustaches gave way to clean-shaven faces. Spitting in public, once a very common practice, now became disgusting.

Suddenly, this weird law on the books in El Paso doesn’t seem so weird anymore, does it?

 “Churches, hotels, halls of assembly, stores, markets, banking rooms, railroad depots, and saloons are required to provide spittoons of a kind and number to efficiently contain expectorations into them.”

And now you know.

Thoughts from the Trail

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My husband and I had our Spring Break early this year. (We can do that since we’re empty nesters.) So early March found us on the side of a mountain taking what was supposed to be an easy morning walk. I don’t think either of us knew what we were getting ourselves into when we started out that morning and by the time we did, we were too stubborn to give up. Later, I found out the trail we hiked was only 1.7 miles, but since those miles were 80% vertical, our time on the trail felt a lot like a two hour workout on a stair-stepper. 

The two of us have hiked a lot of miles together over the years, and we soon fell into our regular pattern. When the trail got narrow, he would lead the way, and if the climb was especially steep, he’d reach back and lend me a hand up. I didn’t think much of it until we got to a very narrow portion of vertical rock. We’d stepped to the side to allow some other hikers to come down. A young mom with a toddler on her back was part of the group, but when my husband offered her a hand to help her down, she waved him off. Clearly, she could do this on her own.

I get it. The word “dependent” gets a bad rap in our society. Phrases like “co-dependency,” “drug and alcohol dependency,” and “dependent personality disorder” bring out the negative aspect of the word. We like to think we’re stronger than that, capable of conquering our mountains on our own. But is it always a weakness to depend on others for help?

A wise man once said:

“Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor:  If either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up.” [Ecclesiastes 4:9-10]

We Americans are an independent lot. It’s in our DNA—that do-it-yourself, pull-yourself-up-by-the-bootstraps mentality. In many ways it’s a good quality, but sometimes we cling to our independence to our detriment. Those are the times when we let our pride keep us from the help we so desperately need.  The Pharisees in the Bible are a prime example, so sure of their own ability to be righteous they completely missed the salvation Jesus offered. But here are the facts: if you are human, you need a Savior. If that weren’t the case, then what was the point of the cross?

And if you are human, no matter how strong or capable you may be, there will come a time you’ll need the help of others.  As we made the climb that morning, many on the path were stronger than I. Several were using the path as a jogging trail, and I marveled at their ability to take on the steep angles and loose rocks at such a pace. But on the way down, we came across one of those young athletes being helped down the trail by two other hikers. Apparently, he’d fallen and hurt an ankle. Strong as he was, there was no way he could make it off the mountain alone. In fact, by the time we reached the bottom of the trail, the emergency vehicles arrived. Even the two Samaritans who’d stopped to help him weren’t enough to get him off that mountain. They’d called in the professionals.

So here’s my tip from the trail: never hike alone. Don’t let pride stand in the way of the blessing of community.

So I got a Tattoo

So, I got a tattoo. I know. I’m just as surprised as you are. I always told my kids not to get one unless it had lasting meaning—something they wouldn’t regret twenty, thirty years down the road. I regret clothes choices from a year ago. Could I really find something I’d want to wear on my skin forever? But then, my daughter came to me with an idea I couldn’t pass up.

You see, there are two women in my life to whom I owe a debt I can never repay. Two women whose sacrifice of love allowed me to have something I could never have on my own—children. Because of them, I am a mom. Because of them, my life changed for the better in ways I can never measure. One of these women I have never met. The other I’m privileged to know well.

And so, when my daughter asked me to get the adoption symbol tattoo along with her and her birth mother, I said YES! The triangle represents the three sides of adoption—birth family, adoptive family, child. The heart represents the love that binds us all together. I added a cross to my symbol for two reasons.  1) It reminds me of my own adoption into the family of God through the blood of Jesus. 2) I know both our children came to us through God’s orchestration because “every good and perfect gift comes down from the Father above.”

And so, I got the tattoo . . . and I know there will be no regrets.

Lessons from a Dog

Many of my mornings this summer have started with what I like to call the Running of the Dogs. Believe me. Getting in front of these two when they run is every bit as risky as any of the streets of Pamplona during their annual festival.

Since we live on an acreage, neither of the dogs are on leashes. As long as they stay within the sound of my voice and come within eye sight every minute or two, they can follow all the rabbit trails their hearts desire.

This wasn’t always the case.

You see, one of the dogs–Avery–doesn’t live with us permanently. She’s my son’s dog, and up until this summer, she’d only been at our house for short-term visits. Now this dog is bred to run. With the DNA of greyhounds running through her, she can take down a coyote with a 50-yard head start on her. But early in the summer, she didn’t respond to our commands and was in very real danger any time she was off a leash. We live close to two very busy roads–one of them a four-lane highway. Running with no regard to boundaries was out of the question.

So when I would head out on my morning runs, only our dog Lexie was allowed to join the party. Avery stayed behind in her 12-foot square enclosure. These were not happy days for Avery.

Luckily, as the summer progressed, her willingness to obey increased. With the help of a training collar that emits a high-pitched beep when I press a button on its remote, she’s learned to come when I call and has earned the right to join the morning run.

So what does all this have to do with thriving?

We live in a culture that tells us things like boundaries and rules and authority are bad. That the only way to be truly free is to set our own rules, forge our own paths. But is it really? What if the opposite were true? What if the only way to experience our greatest freedom is to listen to our Master’s voice . . . to follow His paths?

I came across this verse the other day:

“I run in the path of your commands for you have set my heart free.” Psalm 119:32

Do you see that? Freedom is found in obedience. When Jesus first called the fishermen (Peter and Andrew and James and John) to be his disciples, he challenged them to go deeper . . . to experience life like they’d never experienced it before. [Luke 5:1-11] But in order to do that, they had to obey. They had to choose to follow His lead.

Because Avery is willing to follow my commands, to stay within the boundaries of my path for her, she is free to be the dog she was created to be. She can run like the wind, follow all the smells, flush out quail, splash in the water . . . in short, she can THRIVE.

Psalm 32:8 tells us:

The Lord says, “I will guide you along the best pathway for your life . . . ” [emphasis mine]

Isn’t that what we all want? The BEST life? A DEEPER life? So what’s keeping you from obeying your Master’s voice today? Follow His lead and THRIVE!

Fear of Flying

I used to be a white-knuckle flyer. Today, after many years of flight experience, I’ve graduated to what I’d call a reluctant flyer. The fear is still there. I’ve just learned to cope. Recently, my husband and I were returning home on a flight that originated out of a very small airport. Seriously, y’all, when I say small, I mean the same two people who checked us in and took our luggage were the same two who collected our boarding passes at the gate. They were also the same ones (we noticed) who loaded our luggage on the plane and guided us out onto the runway. Yeah. Two-man operation small.

Needless to say, our plane was no 747. If you’ve flown much, you’ve probably been on one like it–two miniscule seats on one side, one on the other with an aisle so narrow it’s best navigated sideways. But as I mentioned before, I’ve learned to cope. After an intimate conversation with Jesus on take-off, I immersed myself in a book by one of my favorite authors.

All was good . . . until we hit turbulence.

Really, there’s nothing like a good bit of turbulence to bring you smack dab into your present circumstances. After one particularly violent dip that left my heart hovering somewhere near the ceiling of the plane, I looked up from my book and took stock of my surroundings. Panic squeezed the air from my lungs. I was in a stinkin’ aluminum can, bobbing around like a manic ping-pong ball, 30,000 feet in the air. What in the name of sanity had convinced me this was a good idea?

Thankfully before I decided to run screaming for an exit, the plane leveled out, and I was able to escape into my book again. Because deep-down inside, despite how I might have felt at that moment, I knew this truth. If I didn’t really believe the plane would get me to my destination, I would never have left the airport.

Isn’t that a lot like this faith-walk we’re on? I love this quote:

“Faith is when you act like God is telling you the truth.”

Faith is not static. It requires that we step out into seemingly impossible situations believing God is going to make good on His promises. Some days the path seems easy, but on others, when turbulence hits, suddenly this grand faith-adventure we’re on is not so grand anymore, and like Peter walking on the water, all we can focus on are the waves around us. Satan has us exactly where he wants us–paralyzed by fear.

If this is where you find yourself, consider this. If I had let my fear of flying keep me in the airport, think of all the adventures I would have missed, the wonderful places I’d never have experienced.

Ephesians 2:10 tells us:

“For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”

Are you allowing fear to keep you from what God has created you to do? Maybe it’s time to get out of the airport and onto that plane.

The Promise of Spring

It’s always a toss-up here in Nebraska when Spring Break falls in early March as to whether our kids will be playing in the snow or enjoying true spring weather. Luckily for us, the latter was the case this year. Whether you traveled for Spring Break or stayed home, I hope you had an opportunity to get outside and enjoy the promise of spring.

Don’t you just love the way God speaks to us through his creation? Psalm 19:1-4 tells us:

“The heavens declare the glory of God;
the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
 Day after day they pour forth speech;
night after night they reveal knowledge.
They have no speech, they use no words;
no sound is heard from them.
 Yet their voice goes out into all the earth,
their words to the ends of the world.”

And again in Romans 1:20, we read:

“For ever since the world was created, people have seen the earth and sky. Through everything God made, they can clearly see his invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature. So they have no excuse for not knowing God.”

Nothing in creation speaks more clearly of God’s power in redemption than the coming of spring. Everything that one day looks dead and cold and hopeless suddenly bursts with new life as the weather warms and spring returns.

My mother died in January of 2007 in the midst of a bitter, snow-filled winter. I can still remember the first spring after her passing. Here’s an excerpt from my journal during that time:

“What a cold, long winter it has been. But today I feel just like the world around me, as if something cold and bleak inside of me is beginning to melt because I keep leaking. I cried when I saw the first crocuses bloom by my gate a few weeks ago. And I’ve been crying ever since. . . . Thank you again, Jesus, for giving us the victory over death. Without that hope, there would be no spring.”

Whatever season your soul is in right now, take time this week to get out and read God’s message to you. The crocuses are blooming again. I’ve seen them. The maple trees are heavy with buds. No matter how bleak or dead or hopeless life seems right now, God is whispering His promises: new life . . . new beginnings . . . and HOPE.

A Savior is Born

A cross forms the backdrop for my nativity scene downstairs. There’s a reason for that. I don’t know about you, but I need a visual reminder—not just once, but many times during the holiday season—for the real reason we celebrate.

Don’t get me wrong. I love Christmas. I love how the season starts with “thanks giving” on Thanksgiving. I love the opportunity to get together with family members who live too far away. I love the familiar Christmas songs . . . the lights . . . the baking . . . the fact that everyone seems just a little kinder, a little more giving at this particular time of the year. I love the excitement on the faces of children anticipating Christmas day. I love all the warm fuzzies this holiday brings.

But I also know how easily I can get caught up in the stress of the season and start to panic over a to-do list the length of the Mississippi. I think we women especially can get entangled in our desire to create a Pinterest-perfect Christmas and, in the process, forget all about celebrating. When was the last time you stopped to truly CELEBRATE Christmas? Because as wonderful as all the trappings of Christmas can be—the decorations, the food, the moments with family— they are not the reason we celebrate.

We celebrate for the same reason the angels and the shepherds celebrated that first Christmas night. We celebrate with the same sense of awe Mary and Joseph must have felt when they held their baby for the first time and pronounced his name—Jesus. We celebrate with the same joyful expectation that Simeon and Anna expressed when they gazed into the face of their long-awaited Messiah.

“For unto you is born this day in the city of David a SAVIOR . . .”  Luke 2:11

A Savior.

Our Savior was born.

Two thousand years into this age of grace, the significance of that simple statement often escapes us. But travel with me for a second back to the garden, back to that moment when Adam and Eve first realize the full consequences of what they have done. They made a decision to listen to the Tempter. They chose to be their own gods, and in that moment EVERYTHING changed. There was no do-over, no going back. They had lost Paradise. Their perfect world lay in ruins around them and there was NOTHING they could do about it.

The ugliness of death suddenly became very real when God sacrificed an animal to cover their nakedness. But in that moment . . . in the midst of the chaos of their own making . . . God made them a promise:  The seed of the woman would bruise the serpent’s head.

Did Eve look to her son Cain to be her Savior? Maybe. We all know how that dream ended . . . how far and how quickly mankind can fall when he chooses to forsake God.

But whispers of that promise continued down through the centuries.

To Abraham: “In your seed all the nations of the earth shall be blessed . . .” Genesis 22:18

To David: “I will raise up your descendant after you, who will come forth from you, and I will establish his kingdom.  . . . Your house and your kingdom shall endure before Me forever; your throne shall be established forever.”  2 Samuel  7: 12&16

To the Israelite nation:  “For a child will be born to us, a son will be given to us; And the government will rest on His shoulders; And His name will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Eternal Father, Prince of Peace.” Isaiah 9:6

Then finally, an angel repeated it to a young virgin and the promise was fulfilled.

Are you stressed out today in your efforts to create a perfect Christmas? Newsflash: There is no perfect Christmas. Pies will burn, siblings will squabble, whole families will come down with the flu.

But there is perfect love, joy and peace in the gift of God’s salvation.

Our Savior has come! Take time to CELEBRATE that this Christmas season.

Living in Unity

Last month, my husband and I took a quick trip to Florida, mostly to get away from our Nebraska winter for a few days. While we were there we spent a day at Epcot. If you’ve been to Epcot you know it was designed to look somewhat like a giant World’s Fair. Its purpose is to celebrate man’s achievement in technology and science and in international cultures.

But what I came away with after that day at the park was not so much a greater appreciation of man as it was a greater appreciation of our Creator God. We were there during the International Flower and Garden Festival so we saw exhibit after exhibit of all types of flora and fauna from around the world—flowers in all shapes and sizes and miniature Japanese trees that were 35 years “in training” and still only a foot tall.

In one building we stood in a giant two-story aquarium and marveled at the sheer variety of sea creatures on display. In another we sat through a multi-dimensional film celebrating the vast variety of creatures that inhabit our land masses. But honestly the arena that brought home God’s infinite creativity to me the most was simply watching all the people.

Epcot welcomes more than 10 million visitors every year, and though we went on an ordinary Monday in March, we still were among thousands of other visitors. And after about four hours of walking, we were very ready to just sit and watch them. Better than any aquarium, the constant flow of people walking by us as we sat on a bench in the French section enjoying our strawberry crepes and ice cream was incredible in its variety.

People of all shapes and sizes and colors and nationalities rambled by. And after a few minutes of simply watching, I began to notice something–here and there–people walking by sporting headgear that looked like this:

 

From then on, we started counting all the Mickey Mouse ears we saw. I don’t remember our final number, but what I do remember was the amazing variety. There were traditional ears, fancy ears, ears with bling and ears without, ears that matched and ears that stood out from all the others, pirate ears, princess ears, wizard ears, bride and groom ears and every other type of mouse ears you can imagine.  In fact, there were so many different options walking by us, I wasn’t a bit surprised to see racks and shelves full of them in just about every gift shop in the park.

Why in the world do we need so many different types of mouse ears? I’ll tell you why . . . because not only has God created mankind in infinite variety physically, he also created us with different personalities, tastes, backgrounds and opinions. Which is what makes this—this living in community together—so wonderful. It’s also what makes this so hard.

I think Christ must have known the difficulty that comes with community. After all, his closest friends included a zealot and a tax collector. That’s like putting a Democrat and a Republican on the same committee–there’s gonna be sparks, folks!  Maybe that’s why his last command to his disciples was to LOVE ONE ANOTHER. And maybe that’s why his final prayer was a plea to the Father for our unity.

We aren’t meant to walk through this Christian life alone. We need Christ and we need each other to be truly effective.

In Ephesians 4:16 Paul tells us why:

“He makes the whole body fit together perfectly. As each part does its own special work, it helps the other parts grow, so that the whole body is healthy and growing and full of love.”

I love that analogy of the body. The heart is a vital organ to the body, but without the veins and arteries to connect it to the lungs and other parts of the body, it would be worthless. We need each member–we need each other–to accomplish all God has made us to do.

So how do we work together . . . live in unity . . .  when we are all so different? The key is Christ. He is the glue that holds it all together. He is the One who allows us each to use our own special gifts and talents—not so we can compare ourselves with each other, not to judge those who are different or tear each other down—but to help each other grow.

Maybe you look at the person next to you and say, I could never be like her, or you see someone serving in a particular way and think, I could never do what they do.

Maybe that’s the point.

God doesn’t want us all to look exactly alike. He didn’t create us all to serve in exactly the same ways. But he did create you to walk alongside others in community—to willingly sharing your own unique strengths and abilities for His ultimate glory.

In closing, I’d like to leave you with these final words from Ephesians 4, some good advice about what it looks like to live in unity:

“Be patient with each other, making allowance for each other’s faults because of your love.  Make every effort to keep yourselves united in the Spirit, binding yourselves together with peace. For there is one body and one Spirit, just as you have been called to one glorious hope for the future. There is one Lord, one faith, one baptism, 6 and one God and Father, who is over all and in all and living through all.”  Ephesians 4:2-6

Beneath the Shelter of His Wings

I’ve been memorizing more scripture this year—longer passages instead of a verse here and there. Before you start getting all impressed on me, let me just say it’s been a challenge. Some days I feel like I’m trying to hold onto an armful of greased bowling balls. About the time I get a good hold on one, the others slip from my grasp.

But I’ve realized my being able to recite long passages with Awana-like precision is not the point. My goal from the beginning was to go long and deep into various passages, and that has been accomplished.

As I go over and over the passages I’m trying to memorize, I spend more time thinking about the words. Passages I’ve skimmed through in the past, I now take word by word and am gaining insight I never had.

Recently, I’ve been working on Psalm 91. This has been a favorite of mine for a long time and I’ve memorized portions of it before. It’s a great one for reciting when you are lying awake at night, bothered by a mountain of “what ifs.” (Please tell me I’m not the only one who does this.)

I love the imagery of this verse, the beauty of its parallel structure. But I have to admit, I’ve not always believed the message to be 100% accurate.  Phrases like “no harm will overtake you” or  “disaster will not come near his tent” bother me because I’ve seen very real disasters strike believers and non-believers alike. Believers are not immune to the bad things that happen every day in this world.

I began to ask myself, am I memorizing something that is merely wishful thinking, or can I honestly grab hold of the psalmist words as truth? As I put the words to memory this time, two separate phrases stood out to me: “My God, in whom I trust,” and “His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.”  Yep. Those words again—trust and faithfulness. Once again God reminded me—trust comes from a history with somebody. We trust because the other person has proven himself faithful.

Though no one knows for sure who wrote this particular psalm, Jewish tradition attributes it to Moses. Some even suggest it was written after the incident in the desert with the poisonous snakes.  If you remember, the Israelites were once again complaining against Moses and God. They had even gone as far as to call God’s provision of food from heaven “miserable food” (Numbers 21:5). In response, God sends fiery serpents into the camp and many of the people were dying from snake bites. The people repented and asked for deliverance, so God instructed Moses to make a bronze snake and lift it up on a pole. Anyone who looked on the snake would not die. This story is a wonderful foreshadowing of what Christ did for us on the cross (John 3:14).

So, did the Israelites have a history of God’s faithfulness to draw on that should have led them to trust? Think about the miracles these people had lived through! They’d seen the angel of death strike the first born all around them, but escaped unscathed; they’d passed through the Red Sea on dry ground and turned around to see the mighty Egyptian army drown; they’d escaped death by hunger and thirst as time after time God provided water and food for them in a desert; and most recently, they’d just come from defeating a mighty Canaanite king.  No wonder God was angry at their lack of trust.

As I memorized Psalm 91 again—thinking of it in this context and mulling over those key verses, I suddenly understood what the psalmist was saying. This psalm is not about believers going blithely through life and never coming in contact with any trouble or disaster, this psalm is about our position in Christ when we encounter that trouble.

When we put our trust in God, we are tucked safely beneath his wings of protection. “He is with us in trouble.” He—the God of the Universe—is by our side. And with our God at our side— our God, who has proven Himself faithful, time after time—what do we possibly have to fear? By his death and resurrection, He has already conquered our greatest enemies: sin and death.  What more do we need?

If you are struggling with fear and trust issues today, spend some time on the words of this psalm. Remember God’s faithfulness and rest in the shelter of his wings.

Psalm 91

 Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
 I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress,
my God, in whom I trust.”

 Surely he will save you
from the fowler’s snare
and from the deadly pestilence.
 He will cover you with his feathers,
and under his wings you will find refuge;
his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.

You will not fear the terror of night,
nor the arrow that flies by day,
 nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,
nor the plague that destroys at midday.
A thousand may fall at your side,
ten thousand at your right hand,
but it will not come near you.
You will only observe with your eyes
and see the punishment of the wicked.

 If you say, “The Lord is my refuge,”
and you make the Most High your dwelling,
 no harm will overtake you,
no disaster will come near your tent.
 For he will command his angels concerning you
to guard you in all your ways;
 they will lift you up in their hands,
so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.
 You will tread on the lion and the cobra;
you will trample the great lion and the serpent.

 “Because he  loves me,” says the Lord, “I will rescue him;
I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.
 He will call on me, and I will answer him;
I will be with him in trouble,
I will deliver him and honor him.
 With long life I will satisfy him
and show him my salvation.”