“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
“And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet, I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, “what shall we eat?” or “what shall we wear?” For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
“He’s in the waiting…” This lyric from Bethel Music and Kristene DiMarco’s song, Take Courage keeps rolling around my head in this season of advent and reminds my heart to take comfort in His presence as I wait. His answers are coming even as we wait for the celebration of the birth of the Christchild.
What are you waiting for? Advent is about waiting for what is to come. In this case, the coming savior/child in a manger, who came as an infant to die on a cross some 33 years later. The entire world is waiting for Christmas right now, for all the gatherings, celebrations and tender moments we can muster.
For the last two hours helicopters have been circling my neighborhood. Sirens have been wailing. Schools are on lockdown. We’re in our home, doors locked and waiting to be told what the heck is going on. We’re all waiting for something aren’t we? And, sometimes the waiting is a little scary. Whether it’s for a healing, a relationship, a promotion, a broken heart to mend, a conflict to be resolved, a fear to subside or something else; waiting is an integral part of living. And, what we do in the waiting says everything about where our hope lies and how content we will be.
If our hope is in our own ability to create, manipulate, manage or control the events of our lives, we will surely grow weary. We will be heart sick.
“Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.” Proverbs 13:12
If our hope is in the Creator of the universe, the Saviour of the world, we can release our grasp and trust that not only will He deliver every good gift on time, but that He is, indeed, with us as we wait for events to unfold, trusting that He never withholds what is good for us and what will bring Him glory. He who came down from Heaven to walk this earth with us and who will return to gather us to our eternal home, is big enough, powerful enough and loves us more than enough to manage all the things that confound us, worry us and keep us up at night. Emmanuel. God with us.
I’m waiting for friends to be healed from cancer, people I care deeply for struggling with mental illness to have sound minds, loved ones in need of work to find jobs, grieving ones to be comforted, the faithless to find faith in Jesus and for the peace on earth that only He will bring. That’s a lot of waiting, friends. While I may not understand the delay or even the “final answer” in any given situation, my hope is in the God I believe is good. Believing so doesn’t mean we won’t experience sorrow, tears or disappointment, but it does mean that in the end, our hope is in Him and not in our own screenplay of what our life should be. Spoiler alert: His script is far better than anything we might imagine.
We do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses… Hebrew 4:15
Whatever you are waiting for, He’s in the waiting. He knows your heart and He is able to carry you through it dear one, so don’t lose hope. We don’t wait alone. He’s right there with us.
Thanksgiving. The very word reminds me how much I already have in a culture that constantly seeks to convince us that we need more. In the spirit of true gratitude, please allow me to share some of the tangible and intangible things I’m most thankful for today.
May I never fail to express gratitude for these gifts:
A bed to sleep in and blankets to keep me warm
Running water from my multiple faucets
Electricity that brings light and warmth
A home to return to each night
The family I was born into and the one I married into
Friends God has graciously placed in my life
The ability to be in contact with people all over the world via a device that fits in my pocket
Wheels to take me where I need to go
The beauty of creation all around me
Food in my cupboard and a refrigerator to keep it fresh
State of the art healthcare
Agencies that protect, serve and respond to our needs
Access to news, literature and art
Freedom to respectfully disagree
A sound mind
Feet to walk on
Eyes to see, ears to hear and hands to work with
A place to freely worship with other like minded believers
More love, kindness and mercy than I will ever deserve
And, should I be so bold as to ask for more, let it be for this:
To be used by God for His purposes
More time with those I love
Shared meals around my table
Experiences that linger long
Words that feed my soul
Laughter that warms my heart
Eyes to see the needs around me
Ears to hear the cries of those in need
Arms to embrace the hurting
Moments of wonder
Conversations that nourish
Opportunities to bless from my bounty
Wisdom to be a vessel of hope and healing
A heart to hold it all
I am thankful for your eyes reading this today and for all the good gifts He has given us. My prayer for you is that you, too would “Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good. His love endures forever.” Psalm 136:1
The table was littered with crumpled napkins and dessert plates bearing the remains of a homemade strawberry dessert. Our bellies were full and we’d settled into some some real talk–the kind that happens when long after your done eating you sit around the table with those you hold dear and who trust you with the burdens weighing on their hearts.
One of my oldest and dearest friends sat across the table still grieving the loss of his father. As we reminisced I mentioned how much I loved a particular photograph of the two of them. In it, they were captured at a big box store in a town far away engaged in some very childish behavior. They were clearly having great fun evidenced by their beaming faces. Both were laughing. The reflected joy was palpable.
“I loved to make my Daddy laugh,” he said, wistfully, “but, now there’s so much anger.” I saw pure sadness in his lowered eyes. Some hard things had transpired leaving he and his family to suffer sorrow, betrayal, disappointment and an ongoing battle against bitterness that would have been understandable had they succumbed. They hadn’t, but these were hard times indeed.
“He did the best he could.” I responded, hoping to ease his pain.
His response was soft yet swift, “Oh, but, he didn’t.” There was no sign of satisfaction in his eyes over this proclamation. Only sorrow mixed with regret. This conversation took place well over a year ago and I confess it still rumbles around my mind and in my heart.
I don’t know that I will ever mindlessly use that phrase again. Even now if I overhear it somewhere, I hear his response in my head: “Oh, but he didn’t.” We are so quick to say “they did the best they could.” But, was my friend right or was I? Did they do their best? Or, in fact, is that just a trite response when we have no other explanation to soothe ourselves? Is it a myth we use for self-comfort when others have disappointed us with their actions or lack of them?
Do any of us consistently give our best, even to those people and things we love most? Likely not. For a myriad of reasons, we fall short. We fail to be the mothers, fathers, spouses, children, friends, etc that we’d like to think we are or want to be. Because, my friends, wanting doesn’t make it so. If we aren’t intentional about what we do, we too will fail.
I can’t become a master chef by watching the Food Network and wishing I could emulate their skills. Nor can I just post photos of beautiful dishes on Instagram under the moniker “InstaChef.” No. I need to go to the market, purchase the required ingredients, follow the recipe step by step and even then, I may not get the desired result. So, I’ll to try again until I’m satisfied. What may happen down the road is that I grow over confident and fail to read the recipe carefully. I may (because I can be careless) omit a crucial ingredient or use too much of another. I won’t have intended to fail, I just took my eyes off the recipe.
“So we must not get tired of doing good, for we will reap at the proper time if we don’t give up. ” Galations 6:9 Holman Christian Standard Bible.
Growing up I spent many summer days at the beach, body surfing for hours with my cousins and siblings. Often, I would come out of the water to discover my carefully placed towel “missing.” Upon further examination, I was surprised to view exactly where I had left it. I had been oblivious to the fact that the current had subtly caused me to drift a significant distance from where I had entered the water. Unbeknownst to me I had veered off course without noticing that I had lost sight of my home base. We are strongly warned in the book of Hebrews that if we don’t pay attention, we are in great danger of just drifting away. When we do, we will inevitably fail to give our best.
I hadn’t intended to lose sight of that towel, but, neither had I kept my eye on it. I was distracted by the sun and the waves and my company. When that happened, I effortlessly drifted. When we get distracted by the cares of life, we can easily move away from doing our best for ourselves and those we love. My friend was right. His Daddy, though he most certainly loved his boy dearly, also failed him in some pretty significant ways. He could have done better. He didn’t always do his best. I think he drifted from the shore and lost his bearings for a time. The result for my friend has been some high hurdles to jump over. You and I all have, or will have, similar mountains to climb in our own lives. But our good God is gracious to heal our wounds, day by day, as we lay them before Him.
So, what about that “unfinished business?” What about those for whom it’s too late? Too late to give their best, too late to give us their time, their affection, their encouragement, their unconditional love and faithfulness, their provision for our needs. What about that? How are we to come to terms with our disappointment, anger, sorrow and regret, knowing there will be no reconciliation here on earth?
We can still love and forgive those who’ve failed us in their weakness. We can hate how they hurt us, overlooked us, put others ahead of us or responded from paranoia. Also, when they acted foolishly, selfishly, thoughtlessly or in anger. We don’t need to pretend things were other than they were. We can’t rewrite history. We can’t change what was or wasn’t done, but, for our own healing we can choose to release what we wanted and acknowledge what we actually had. In doing so, we can grow in grace and in mercy, with eyes wide open, to cross over the bridge of forgiveness to the solid ground of peace with God and with man. This is no way negates the wrongs done to us or the heartache we feel, but frees us to repent of our own sin of unforgiveness and to receive the peace that passes all understanding and the healing of our broken hearts.
How can I be so certain of this? Simply because, I’m a sinner, too. I’ve had to release others from the weight of my own unforgiveness, knowing that while I may not make the same mistakes they did, I will surely make my own and so will you. We may, in fact, sin by overcompensating where we were failed. If we were never told “I love you” we may well say it too casually. If we were punished harshly we may err on the side of permissiveness. If we were not adequately provided for we may be prideful in meeting the needs of those we love in a manner far beyond what is reasonable and healthy. Because, we, too, are still being transformed. For that, God allows us a lifetime. As we submit ourselves to His care and leading, He will lead us home where all our tears will be forever dried. In our own lives we can choose to be vigilant, to fix our eyes on Jesus in the earnest hope that others will recall that we did indeed do our best.
It’s a worthy goal.
Sidebar: Even healed wounds hurt from time to time, so, don’t lose hope when yours do. Press forward and through. In the meantime, may I suggest you look into God’s Word for comfort and guidance? Here are some verses to get you started on the road to forgiveness and healing. It’s not easy, but it’s simple.
Make allowance for each other’s faults, and forgive anyone who offends you. Remember, the Lord forgave you, so you must forgive others. Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds us all together in perfect harmony. And let the peace that comes from Christ rule in your hearts. Col. 3:13-15a NLT
Get rid of all bitterness, rage and agner, harsh words and slander, as well as all types of evil behavior. Instead be kind to each other, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God through Christ forgave you. Eph. 4:31-32 NLT
Who is a God like you, who pardons sin and forgives the transgression of the remnant of his inheritance? You do not stay angry forever but delight to show mercy. Micah 7:18 NIV
And whenever you stand praying, you must forgive anything you are holding against anyone else, and your Father will forgive you your sins. Mark 11:25 Phillips
Don’t worry about anything; instead pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank Him for all He has done. Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:6-7
It’s safe to say that no one was more shocked than I that Friday morning in 1972 when my name was announced. The panel of judges had chosen me as the first prize winner for news writing at the 19th Annual Press Day at El Camino College. Sitting in the darkened auditorium awaiting the results, I had zero hope or expectation of being recognized. In all honesty, I had strongly considered not even showing up that day as nearly 400 student journalists from 17 South Bay high schools convened to compete. It was truly a last minute decision to jump into my ’65 Mustang and head to the competition. What the heck. All my friends were going, so, why not?
I remember hearing speakers, attending the informational session and being told to write a news story about it. I was as nonchalant about the contest as a seventeen year old girl could be, still pondering whether to even bother to write the assigned article or not, with no thought of a win. I was already there, and the time was going to pass anyway, so why not just write and get my participation badge?
When I look back on that day, nearly half a century earlier, I view the experience through different lenses. I now see that day as confirmation that I am, indeed, a writer- that I was born with an ability and a desire to write. This, not because I worked so hard at it, or because I studied long or honed my craft– not because I was the best prepared, but, because God gifted me with something that He wanted me to use for His glory. When I least expected to be recognized, He singled me out and shined a light on the gift He gave.
Though there was a time when I had aspirations to write on a grander scale, I am happy now to share my little stories here with you, whoever and wherever you may be. I will continue write to share with you the meaningful moments and lessons He blesses me with, as I endeavor to fully live this beautiful, difficult, joyful, challenging and precious life He has called me to. Gifts are meant to be shared, so, I will write in response to the One who gives and Who consistently reminds me to pass it on. The act of processing life through these humble words is my response to the Giver of all good gifts. It matters not whether only one person or a million reads them. He made me a writer and, so, I must write.
I am well aware that blogs like this are a dime a dozen and that there is a plethora of writers far more eloquent than I. I am a little fish in a big pond. My aim is not for wealth or fame or a certain number of followers. In fact, the older I get, the more I crave a quiet life. Still, in the rhythms of my quiet, everyday life, I see the simplest moments as stories waiting to be told.
What gifts might you be hoarding that He intended you to give away? No matter where you are in life, it’s not to late to begin. Take a step of faith. Give it away.
Yep, Mrs. Gill has influenced how my day starts. A simple prayer her former mother-in-law once shared with her has become one I now begin my day with. It goes like this:
“Lead me today to the ones I need, and to those who need me. And let something I do today have eternal significance. “
Contrary to what you may have imagined, retirement does not mean the end of work. Though one is no longer accountable to corporate dictates or quotas to attain, we are still responsible to our Creator and to those authorities He has put in place over us. So, there are still assignments to be completed for our good, the good of others and for His glory.
No, we no longer need to rise early to get to work on time and yes, we can take a nap in the afternoon if we choose to. We are free to choose how we spend our time, but we choose to be available to what God calls us to. And, it is good. As I have shared in the past, I no longer work for money, only for love. Not in order to gain love, but, in response to the love that’s been given to me.
As a believer in Jesus, I don’t need to earn His approval. He gave it freely the second I responded to His invitation to save me. Loving and serving others is how I respond to His gift- when it’s easy and when it’s hard, because He already did the hardest thing for me.
Our daily marching orders may not be as regimented as they once were, but I still want to live lives of purpose. So– I pray:
“Lead me today to those I need…”
Biblical teaching from the pulpit focused on truth and insights that motivate me to put to use what I learn from our ongoing teaching of the Word of God, verse by verse. I need the knowledge shared and the challenge to live it out.
My weekly Bible study where Godly women share wisdom I aspire to. I need their discernment and wisdom. I need the example of these women to propel me to respond well in my own life. I need the women at my table who share from their hearts. Their vulnerability and steadfast faith encourages me tear down the walls I often construct to keep others out.
My weekly beach walk with friends. I need them so that I will stay committed to moving my body and enriching my spirit with the company of women who, by their example, cause me to not grow weary in doing right, but to persevere in faith through the ups and downs of life.
My friends who I need to pray for me when I ask and when I don’t.
A long phone conversation with a far-away kindred spirit because I need to be encouraged and uplifted, too.
A visit with a young couple and their sweet little one, who are planting a new church in a largely unchurched area of our state. I need to support them in prayer and with my wallet. And I need to see how God is blessing the investment of time and love I made many years ago. I need to be reminded that love invested yields love paid forward.
“…And to those who need me…”
Because, good golly Miss Molly, it’s not just about what I need. So, our Lord graciously answers this prayer and leads me to these who need me, in a wide variety of ways with a varied cast of characters:
I get to take a dear friend to her chemo appointment and then spend the afternoon with her. I get to cheer her on as she bulks up on as many calories and liquids as her frame will contain and we catch up with each other, uninterrupted by other distractions.
I get to spend an afternoon cuddling, feeding and juggling precious twin baby girls while visiting with their mama.
I get to give my daughter the afternoon off and take my darling grand girls to the library, the park and for Slurpees, all the while listening to them, praying for them and laughing with them. I get to remind them that I am for them and God is for them.
I get to prepare dinner for our weekly time with our “adopted” daughter. We get to feed her a good meal and encourage her as she begins a new semester in her nursing education.
At our monthly “SWAP Day” I get to share with my Bible Study friends from my excess as I seek to minimize my possessions and share my bounty with them.
I get to accompany my husband to a physician appointment and to take notes for follow-up.
I get to support my dear cousin as she has recently acted on one of the hardest decisions of her life. I get to remind her that even when it’s hard, it is still right and good, and that “joy comes in the morning.” And, I get to continue to pray for her as she walks through this valley.
I get to welcome a houseful of family and give them a place to celebrate the Labor Day weekend. I get to shop for, prepare and clean up after numerous meals, wipe up lots of spills, dodge kids running through our normally quiet home and enjoy the beautiful picture of beloved faces around our massive table. I get to see every seat filled. I get to serve those who work hard in their own lives everyday. And– in my weariness when everyone left, I get to experience fullness of heart.
I get to meet with a young woman struggling in a difficult marriage. I get to encourage her to persevere, to seek God’s wisdom in His word and to be in community with those who will support and encourage her.
“And, let something I do today have eternal significance.”
What does that mean? Englishman C.T. Studd, a cricketer, evangelist and later missionary to China, India and Africa said it best in his poem, “Only One Life “
Only one life
‘Twill soon be past,
Only what’s done for Christ
I am challenged by this. Convicted by it. Shaken to the core by it. I confess to spending too many hours on too many things that have zero eternal significance. I could fill volumes with the time I have spent on that which will burn. God forgive me. And so, I will pray daily:
“Let something I do today have eternal significance.”
(And might I be so bold as to change it up a bit?)
Let many more thingsI do today have eternal significance.
It’s Labor Day weekend and your local barista is already offering all things pumpkin spice. I have lamented multiple times, this week alone, that Summer has flown by faster than a whistling 4th of July rocket. I often express surprise at how the seasons sneak up on us, but the truth is, they are predictable, unlike some other segments of our lives. As the curtain on another Summer draws to a close, I am reminded that one of the few things we can absolutely count on is change.
To everything there is a season, A time for every purpose under Heaven…
Be it the weather, our health, relationships or the seasons themselves, we can be certain that life will frequently be in flux. There will always be new mountains to climb and inner strength will be necessary. Our ability to find our “sea legs” will determine how we will ride out the subtle changes and larger storms of this life.
A time to be born, And a time to die…
Pressing through the grief, disappointments and irritations that are common to all takes not mere tenacity and resolve but a faith that propels such endurance. Releasing those we love to death stings. Disappointment makes our hearts heavy. The ability to press through the changing and challenging seasons only heightens our instinct to cherish the sweeter moments.
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; A time to mourn, and a time to dance...
Three weeks after the death of my beloved father, my first grandchild was born. As I navigate through my own seasons, I have learned to embrace the reality that sorrow and joy often collide on the streets of life. They are in fact, the most intimate of friends. We won’t engage one without eventually engaging the other. This is a hard certainty. Change will come and we must change with it. As we ourselves are changed, we have the opportunity to bring change to the world we inhabit. I have recognized my only hope (and I believe, yours) is to cling to what is unchanging.
Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever
In the shifting seasons, sands, circumstances, moral codes, political climates and relationship issues we all encounter, I have found Jesus to be the single source that will never fail. Wherever I am, He is there. Whatever my sin, He forgives. However gravely I am wounded, He will comfort. However late I call, He will answer. However undeserving I am, His grace is greater. However deep the pit I’m in, His hand will reach down to draw me out. Not because of any good thing I have done, but because of His grace and mercy to me despite my many shortcomings and failures.
I have found Him faithful. Through every season for more than half a century. There is:
No sin He can’t forgive
No circumstance too messy
No addiction He can’t break
No pain He can’t comfort
No brokenness He can’t restore
No lie He can’t speak truth too
No foolishness He can’t redeem
No weakness He can’t bring strength to
No chaos He can’t bring peace to.
No hate He can’t conquer with His love.
Through all the seasons of life, this extraordinary Jesus invites common people like you and I to enter into relationship with Him. Imagine! Your Creator, singling you out to walk and talk and live with Him now and throughout eternity. And, it has nothing to do with being good enough, because none of us are worthy to sit in His presence. Still, He invites us to enter into an intimate, personal, life giving relationship with Him.
Throughout every season of life, He stands at the door of your heart and knocks. Will you open that door?
There’s a subtle lie that haunts most of us a good deal of the time. We look at others and assume they’ve got it going on, but the truth is that underneath even the most polished exterior lies insecurity, struggle, heartache and yes, sin.
“…man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” 1 Samuel 16:7
Driving to a meeting last week I was musing about the fact that I know a lot of people think I have myself “together”. I was quickly reminded of the truth, which is that I am lazy and disorganized and prone to wander. I’m a great starter and less great finisher. What has made the difference in my life is that I’ve recognized my need to be dependent on those around me who remind me to persevere.
Holding it together depends on the Body I belong to and the One who created it. No one part of this body is autonomous. A finger, a leg, a nose, an ear, a foot; they all are useless on their own. Left to our own devices we are pretty useless. We all need to be part of an active body. The individual parts produce nothing, but the parts working together in harmony bring productivity both individually and collectively. It’s why I attend services regularly and am disheartened by those who eschew it saying it’s not necessary to do so. God says it is.
“And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another–and all the more as you see the Day approaching.” Hebrews 10:24-25
I’m thankful to acknowledge my need of those God has placed in my spheres of influence. I’ve learned to intentionally seek out people I admire and want to be like, and then sometimes God brings those I never would have sought out on my own. Through each of them, I am encouraged to press on and press in– by those who will confront me when I’m out of order. I rely on them to nudge me when I’m lazy– to get up and move! When I’m weary– I count on them to remind me to keep moving, when I’m discouraged–to press on and when I’m resting on my laurels– to continue on to the next level. When I isolate, it’s easy to convince myself that I’m doing okay–that I’ve done enough. Hence, I need to surround myself with those who spur me on to good works, who by their example remind me to press on to what is good and useful and productive.
Without those God has knit me together with, I confess, I’d be tempted to spend my discretionary hours binge watching Brit-Box far too often. So, believe me when I tell you I am ever mindful of and thankful for my community. I’m not lying. I need you. I say it all the time, but, we need each other. Isolation is always our foe. Kick it out the door. Find your people.
Those were the first words I read upon awakening this past Friday.
“May he rest in peace and rise in glory”
I hail from a large extended family and some I know better than others. Ben, not so well. But, his father, my cousin, is like a brother to me, having lived in our home for a substantial period of time when I was growing up. He gave me my first Beatles album. (Rubber Soul) He let me drive his pink corvette one day. He has an infectious smile and laugh. I have a million memories of and with him. Like each of us, he has strengths and weaknesses. Like me, He loves Jesus. I have dearly loved him as long as I can remember. Although he is miles away, I am grieving with him today and will be in the days to come. There is a hard road ahead.
Ben was his youngest. His one and only son, from a mother I have yet to meet. He was the child who most resembled him, from where I stand. He was the husband of a kind and beautiful wife who loved him and a sweet daughter he claimed. He had siblings who also grieve. Shockingly, his exit from this life on earth has been splashed across television screens which omit his name, for now. A devastating end to a sometime tumultuous life. But then, whose isn’t?
In the wee hours of the morning while riding his motor cycle on a deserted street in a town I once called home, Ben was struck by a car. His broken body slammed to the pavement and abandoned. A helmet lay on the ground near a single white shoe. A lone witness called for help as the driver of the car fled the scene, no doubt fueled by sheer panic and fear.
Emergency crews arrived to transport him to a local hospital, where a kind young woman tried to reach my sister, several states away, via Facebook. Having found Ben’s ID, she searched for his name there and and saw my sister as a friend and attempted to reach her in the hours before dawn. The kindness of strangers.
In a sterile emergency room, surrounded by the good people who worked hard to save him, Ben breathed his last breath. And now, we, his extended family grieve, praying that he crossed over to glory.
The witness at the scene of the accident shared information allowing the police to identify a suspect early on. He was urged to surrender and tell his story. His car was found, windshield shattered and other damage to the front. But he was in the wind.Truth be told, there was no where to run. Adding more sorrow to an already tragic situation, he was found dead, from what is assumed to be a self-inflicted gunshot wound. My mind shouts “senseless-tragic-why?” But- I am not God, hence I cannot comprehend the whys. But, what I do believe, is that God will somehow use it all for His purposes and our good as this sad story continues to unfold.
There is more “collateral damage” than is known to us. Both of the dead were 41 year old- young men who were sons and fathers, loved by those who suffer in sorrow today and who will grieve for many days to come. No doubt many will ask the perennial question, “why?” 1 Peter 5:8 reminds us that we have a ruthless enemy, described as “a roaring lion, looking for someone to devour.”He is always anxious to tear us away from everything that is good, every gift God freely offers us. By all we can see, it would that the enemy and his lies seem to have won this battle.
Here’s what I know for sure:
In God’s economy, nothing is wasted or lost. His Word says that when we submit ourselves to Him, we can move forward from any situation, confident that He will work every situation, every loss, every tragedy and every triumph for our good. Romans 8:28 assures us He uses all things- the good, the bad and the ugly, for our good and His glory.
God knew both of these men’s hearts and He was there with both of them in their final moments. While I do know Ben heard the Gospel and acknowledged the emptiness of a God shaped space in his heart, I cannot speak for the other victim in this tragedy. But, God. God knew and knows. By His grace, up until the final moments of life, He hears the cry of a sinner surrendering to him and responds with forgiveness and mercy, just as He did to the thief on the cross beside him, when he said, “Today you will be with me in paradise.”(Luke 23:43)
As we grieve we all have a choice; either to grieve as those who have no hope, (1 Thessalonians 4:13-18) or to grieve in expectation of being reunited with those we have loved here on earth, changing a hard good bye to a confident, “I’ll see you in Heaven.” After his infant son died, David said in 2 Samuel 12:23 that “some day I will go to him, but he cannot come back to me.”
When we suffer such great loss, (and we all will) we must never forget that He still has work for us to do. We must war against allowing our sorrow to consume us. When it’s time for us to be reunited with those who have gone before us, He will then bring us Home. too. Until then, we can either be paralyzed by grief or we can use it for His good, by serving as He calls us, waking every morning with the mindset of a soldier reporting for duty, asking for marching orders. This is our great challenge and the proof of our faith. This faith trusts in Him more than in the emotions that might derail us from his plans and purposes for our individual and collective lives. It’s us saying, “It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me. So I live in this earthly body by trusting in Christ who lives in me.”(Galatians 2:20)
A mere three days into what might aptly be described as a nightmare, I have seen God’s hand at work in so many ways…in the kindness of strangers…in the emergency workers at the scene of the accident…in the witness who acted so quickly to call for help and to share information with the authorities… in the media professionals who withheld Ben’s name so as not to be the first to notify loved ones of his death…in the many who have reached out to both grieving families and– in the visit between a father and a son so recent that it had the finger prints of God all over it.
It is no coincidence that come July, this extended family of Ben and of mine, will once again gather together for a long ago scheduled reunion. We will celebrate an imperfect, unpredictable family that reaches far and wide across our country and the love and legacy we share. Unbeknownst to us until now, we will also grieve and celebrate Ben. Some of us will come to know him better in death than we knew him in life as we share stories and remembrances from those who knew him and loved him best. It is going to be a glorious time of remembrance, sprinkled with some grief, but not without joy.
And I, for one, can’t wait.
The joy of the Lord is our strength. If you are grieving, and in need of comfort and encouragement, please won’t you open your Bible (or your device) to the following encouraging Words from the God of all comfort. It is my experience that
| JESUS NEVER FAILS. |
Please Read This and let me know how I can pray for you today:
Feeling more than a wee bit smug, I put the finishing touches on my presentation about persevering through the storms of life. (I should’ve seen those yellow warning lights flashing, right?) I was scheduled to speak to a gathering of women at my church in 7 days and was elated to have completed the preparation. (‘So unlike me to be ahead of the curve) Except for that nagging little voice in my head telling me there was still something I needed to add. Never the less, I had a week to polish and prune and a wide open schedule if adjustments were needed. No problem.
I arrived home that Thursday evening to find my husband in significant pain, but chalked it up to the fact that he had consumed an entire container of salsa with chips, so we went to bed praying he’d be better by morning. When the sun came up, it was clear that was not the case. His pain had intensified. I called his physician and although he was overbooked for the day, they fit us in. His pain was off the charts by the time we arrived at his office and his doc. urged us to go immediately to the ER for further evaluation.
We arrived to a bustling ER and were seen immediately, despite a lobby teeming with sick and injured patients. He was quickly evaluated and though there was “no room at the inn” he was moved into the patient area where he was put on a gurney, in a hallway just across from the desks where nurses and physicians took calls and input information onto their computers. Eventually he was whisked off for an ultrasound and later a CT scan. Blood was drawn and pain medication was administered. And we waited. For hours and hours.
The thing about an emergency room is that you are reminded that many others are far worse off than you are and that gives valuable perspective. As results came in, it became clear that his gall bladder was the offending organ, an uncommon form of infection as most are caused by gall stones. He had none. The CT scan showed a lot of inflammation around the gall bladder- known as acalculous. Initially we expected surgery that night or early the next day. It needed to come out immediately, but, because of a daily medication he took, we would need to wait 5 days until that medication was out of his system in order to avoid excessive bleeding. His white count was 29 which is 3 times the ideal, indicating a serious infection was raging. Although the surgery was impossible in that moment, the inflammation needed to be addressed. As we approached midnight, he was moved to the med-surg floor and prepared to be taken into radiology, where a catheter was inserted to draw out infected fluid in order to bridge the situation until surgery was prudent. The procedure had similar risks, but because it was less invasive there was less risk involved. It was a short term fix. In the days that followed, there were heavy doses of antibiotics, painkillers and intravenous hydration. Three days later, his white count finally began to descend.
Over the next several days, I spent long days that morphed into nights at his bedside. In the midst of this I learned a little more about the meaning of persevering through storms. I learned that there are gifts to be found. I learned that the gifts of community are in full bloom when we are confronted by such storms. Via text messaging, I started three prayer/update chains, one for immediate family, one with Bible Study friends and one with some cousins. The responses and reassurances of prayers going up on Mike’s behalf were an enormous comfort for me in the long hours I waited alone. Although I wasn’t able to respond in detail, I was able to show my appreciation quickly in most cases.
By Sunday, the word was out. Our senior Pastor came and spent an hour with us, encouraging and praying for healing. Over the next days multiple church staff members came to pray, deliver chocolate and bring encouragement. My girl brought hot tea. My sister-in-law and niece came briefly, and later delivered a sumptuous meal for me to take home. And one night when I left the hospital after nearly 12 hours, I asked a security guard to escort me to the 3rd floor of the parking structure. His name was Jesus. The significance of that was not lost on me.
So. Much. Kindness.
So. Many. Blessings.
The hospital experience was spectacular. The nurses, the nursing assistants, the physicians, the respiratory therapists…without exception we were bathed in kindness and grace. Each new morning I was made aware of everyday heroes, quietly doing their jobs and blessing those in their path with their faithfulness to the tasks given them: worker bees, all – nursing staff, housekeepers, facility staff, volunteers, cafeteria workers, security guards, parking attendants, lab technicians and pharmacists- the list is long. Even as I rode the elevators up and down, every employee made eye contact and spoke intentionally. Every single one. It was like it was a job requirement. Volunteers played piano in the lobby as I entered each morning and one such morning I found myself singing along…
God bless the volunteers…
“Oh what a beautiful morning, oh what a beautiful day, everything’s coming up roses, everything’s going my way.” Bringing joy and uplifting hearts, one song at a time.
Over the next week, my days were spent spoon feeding my patient bland, pureed food, assisting with grooming , adding blankets and taking them away, adjusting heat and bed up and down, calling for more medications or to stop beeping machinery, meeting with physicians and sending out updates to our prayer partners. Friends and family came bearing chocolate, hot beverages, books, cards , plants, dinner and prayers. One such angel walked and fed our pooches twice a day as I manned my post at the hospital. Encouraging texts flowed in throughout each day, surrounding us with friendship and love even though I was hard pressed to respond with specific updates. Prayers from Montana, Washington, Oregon, Arizona, California and more and phone calls from concerned friends and family. We were so covered and felt so loved.
Although he was assigned a shared room, we were blessed with privacy for the first five days. It was a blessing to have time and space to spread out with my books and laptop and a chair to rest in. Then, by divine intervention, an 85 year old Syrian man came in to claim the other bed. His daughter visited her Father that night and overheard a conversation about my niece who had visited earlier. When the woman got up to leave later, she apologized for overhearing but she had heard the names I mentioned and wondered… long story short, we realized she had actually cared for my nieces two decades earlier when they were very young. Though she no longer lives in the area, she had come to see her Father in the hospital and our Heavenly Father ordained that he should be placed in the bed next to my husband. Another reminder that our God is in the details of our lives. She shared with me that my nieces had recently been on her mind and heart and after I updated her on their lives she vowed to keep them in her prayers, knowing the Lord is faithful to provide for all their needs. Isn’t our God so personal and so kind? I am astounded at His intervention in our lives.
Six days after we first arrived at the hospital, a successful surgery was performed and on day seven, the patient came home, very grateful to be sprung from the annoyances of hospital life while appreciating every individual there who made his return home possible.
Sometimes community springs up where we are, as it did in the hospital that week. But, deep community is built in the monotony of everyday life when things are going well. It happens in our neighborhoods, in our churches and in our interactions with others. But, it doesn’t happen without our making the effort . The time to build community is now, not when you’re en route to the hospital in an ambulance. Because when you’re sitting in a hospital and day becomes night and then day again, that’s when your community will prop you up. When you are fatigued beyond your breaking point, they will deliver a much needed cup of coffee when you don’t even realize your body is craving caffeine or, a meal when you didn’t realize how hungry you were. They will close the windows you left open in your mad dash to get help and they will walk your dogs when you can’t get home to do it yourself. More importantly, they will send up prayers on your behalf when you are at a loss for words to pray yourself. They will bring comfort by waiting with you in the surgery waiting room and be a balm to your weary soul. These are the priceless gifts of community.
We have been living in a new normal for nearly three weeks now. What was normal, taken for granted and routine is for the present, absent. COVID-19 has pulled the rug out from us, rendering us homebound, strategizing how to score toilet paper and remain sane. It’s a big job.
Many among us are fearful of what’s to come. The stock market plunges, rises and plunges again. Once bountiful supplies of food and supplies are absent from the stores we shop at. Hoarding abounds. With school and work cancelled (excepting essential workers) students are home and parents are scurrying to both educate their kids and keep up with their own work remotely.
Enough of the bad news.
Tensions are running high. The good news is we’re in this together. Ask those not accustomed to being in this quite so together and they may say it’s also the bad news. There are a lot of “what ifs” to think about. And yes, fear abounds. Life is uncertain. Tomorrow is not promised.
ENOUGH WITH THE BAD NEWS
The good news is still good. There is a God in Heaven who loves us and who has not been surprised by the events that have taken our breath away. Seventy-seven years ago, CS Lewis wrote:
Satan: “I will cause anxiety, fear and panic. I will shutdown business, schools, places of worship and sports events. I will cause economic turmoil.”
Jesus:“I will bring together neighbors, restore the family unit, I will bring dinner back to the kitchen table. I will help peple slow down their lives and appreciate what really matters. I will teach my children to rely on me and not the world. I will teach my children to trust me and not their money and material resources.”
How is this good news? It’s good because God is at work. He is causing us to re-examine our lives which are often so busy we have little time for self-reflection. For most of us, right now we have an abundance of time. Time for the best things, the most important things. Things like prayer, sharing a family meal around our tables, staying in touch with those we love have too often taken a back seat to the things that matter most- the things that ground us- the foundational things. We’re busy with lots of stuff, much of it ostensibly good, things like book clubs, church activities, exercise classes, sporting events, meals with friends, volunteering, deadlines, celebrations and even work commitments. Then there are those other things- the binge watching, social media scrolling, on-line shopping, excessive work, etc,.
We as a culture have fallen prey to what what Charles E. Hummel so eloquently called “The Tyranny of the Urgent.” If you haven’t read it, google it now. It may well change your life. If the meantime, let’s change the tide, starting today.
What if we decided to cease worry and anxiety? What if we decided to change our focus? Let’s begin to fix our eyes on the One who came to bring hope. Let’s remember how much we have to be thankful for. Let’s be intentional about releasing fear and resting in His peace. Let’s take the challenge and walk forward as light to a world stumbling in darkness. In a word, if you have light, shine it.
Begin today. Here are some ways to start:
If you are a person of faith, share it with someone who isn’t. If ever the world was in need of saving, it’s now. If you know the Savior, share the hope that is within you. Give it away.
Pick up your phone and call someone you’ve neglected to maintain contact with in your normal day to day life. Time is a gift. Give it away.
Write a note or card to someone you love and appreciate. Tell them what they mean to you. Pop a stamp on it and leave it out for your mail carrier to send it on. Everyone thrives when they’re shown appreciation. Give some away.
Open your Bible and begin to read the book of Matthew. You’ll come to know Jesus in a more intimate way and you may be amazed at how relevant his words are in the midst of this chaos. Then encourage someone else to do the same. Give it away.
My friend Tracy who has an orange tree, picked a bunch of them, sanitized and bagged them up and then delivered them to doorsteps of others. My friend Cindy left little cans full of flowers in her drive way for her neighbors to claim and enjoy at home. Find something, even something small that you can do and do it. Caring for our neighbors is love. Give some away.
Greet everyone with a smile while practicing 6 foot distancing. You may have someone to go home to but they may not. Be a vessel of joy to everyone you meet. Give it awayway.
Remember physical distancing doesn’t have to be social distancing. Stay in touch with others everyday. Call someone who lives alone, someone who is disabled, isolated or anxious. Be a lifeline, make the call, bring cheer. Give it away.
Practice intentional gratitude. Make it your practice to write down at least three things you’re thankful for today and everyday. If you’re fortunate enough to share a meal with your family, share among yourselves what each is grateful for today. Gratitude isn’t gratitude until it’s shared. Give it away.
Finally, if you haven’t already, consider that there is One who created this world and who has a plan. Ponder the possibility that we may have gotten off track thinking our independence is a good thing, that we have things under control and that God’s ways are outdated and unnecessary. I believe that because He loves his creation so much, He will allow us to come to the end of our own ropes waiting patiently to be acknowledged. Cry out to Him, call to Him for help. He is standing ready, to give it away.
“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?”
It was Christmas morning and I was savoring the quiet of my home, having celebrated with family the night before. The husband was downstairs reading his news and I, nestled under the covers, a cup of coffee in hand and a sleeping dog at my feet, was remembering the long expected news that I awakened to on Christmas Eve. The message read:
A lifelong friend released her beloved mother to her final destination, after five weeks of hospice care at home. She was a neighbor when I was growing up, one of my own mother’s dearest friends and a woman who touched my life significantly. She spent her first Christmas on streets of gold in a new home specifically prepared for her.
Putting the finishing touches on Christmas eve prep’, I discovered an army of ants taking possession of two pies and a package of dinner rolls. When I say an army, I mean hundreds of tiny black ants that have been terrorizing our home for the last several months. They were currently having a picnic at the expense of my sanity. I frantically summoned my husband and sent him on a replacement mission as I contended with eliminating the swarming soldiers that had overrun my laundry room. I was sharply scolding said ants in very stern tones, feeling very sorry for myself, when I was reminded that my friend lost her mother just hours ago.
Three dozen cookies, baked, frosted and artfully drizzled with chocolate, prepared to be gifted to my neighbors and ready to be transferred to the refrigerator, slide out of my hands landing face down on my kitchen floor after hours of labor invested. Peppermint icing and chocolate syrup splashed onto cupboards and floors mocking any thought of delivery to anyone. Woe is me. Then I am reminded that my cupboards are full and my troubles are few.
An hour later we’re walking into Christmas Eve services when I catch site of my dear friend Nancy, she with a scarf wrapped around her head and a mask over her face as she recovers from a recent stem cell transplant. In the interest of limiting the possiblity of infection of any sort, she has been largely unable to leave her home, let alone worship in our large congregation for many, many weeks. The sight of her fills my eyes with grateful tears and heart to overflowing. Great joy.
A friend shares that in the midst of a trying conflict with one of her children, she gets in her car, upset and discouraged at the failure to find peace. She proceeds to back out of her garage when she catches sight of a neighbor whose own child was killed in an act of violence recently. In an instant she was reminded that despite the momentary disharmony in her own home, she still had her child.
There is great unrest in our world. We hear news that more Christians in Nigeria have been beheaded by representatives of the Islamic State. Daily we are bombarded by reports of our own leaders slinging horrifying accusations at one another and our culture becomes more devisive by the moment. Those who accuse others of hate, speak their own hate. Facebook reports another missing person every day and what was once shamed is celebrated. Even so, the entire world paused to celebrate the birth of a king who came to save us from our sin. There is still hope in this chaos.
I give little time and attention to politics or our changing culture, except to pray, for our leaders, all of them, that they would be wise, that they would do good, and that they would be used for God’s purposes here on earth. I don’t trouble myself with the details of who said what. Some may say I’m willfully ignorant of what is happening around me. The truth is, I don’t believe our problems are political or even cultural. I believe our problem is spiritual and hence I take the spiritual road to address them. If I look at the condition of our world, the sorrow of death, the frustrations of daily life and allow them to discourage me, I will be without hope. Instead, my hope is firm.
They say hindsight is 2020. Well, here we are. It’s 2020. Nostalgia is fine in small doses but to immerse oneself in it too deeply or too frequently generally results in rewriting history, smoothing out the rough edges and idealizing what was while missing what is.Right now. Looking back is useful only if we learn from it and repent from behaviors less than stellar. To repent is to make a u-turn. To learn from the past is useful. To live in the present, with perspective is priceless.