Growing up digesting Disney fairy tales can warp your sense of reality.
There are no unblemished princes or perfect princesses out there. The bad guys don’t always get what they deserve and the good guys don’t always win.
At least not here on earth.
Read the rest here: Messy Lives, Merciful Savior
“You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.” Psalm 23:5b
I remember standing in our field with my husband at sundown one day, thankfulness and grace and mercy and wonder flooding my heart-and I whispered, “surely my cup overflows!”
Surely, God’s hand is in this, is on our lives-He has brought us to this place of blessing.
And that’s how I used to always think of that verse-the cup overflowing with goodness and blessing.
But what about when the cup overflows with sorrow?
With pain?
With tragedy, trials and temptations?
Jesus knew about that cup. That’s the cup He begged the Father to take from Him.
The cup that was bitter and hard to swallow.
He prayed three times, He sweat blood and He battled His flesh so that His spirit could conform to the Father’s will.
And in the end, He submitted Himself to the Father’s plan.
He was obedient, even to death, even to death that He did not deserve, did not HAVE to suffer, did not WANT to suffer.
I have buried a son.
And it is the most painful thing I have ever had to bear.
It’s a burden I never anticipated and it’s a burden of which I will not be free until I join him in Heaven.
There are some parents who have suffered the loss of multiple children. Or who have suffered child loss and other difficult life circumstances.
If my cup is full and overflowing, theirs is overflowing still more.
Where to take that full cup?
Where to find the strength to carry it, to drink it to the dregs?
When my heart screams, “No more!” and my body cries, “I can’t do this!”, I look to my Savior for the model of how to carry on.
Only in Christ, Who Himself bore the cup and Who drank its bitter fullness can I hope for strength and redemption.
The One Who knows my pain can carry my pain.
The One Who lives again will breathe life into my heart.
The One Who redeems what the enemy has stolen will turn my mourning to dancing.
This cup will not always overflow with sorrow. Around the banquet table at the wedding supper of the Lamb, it will once again be full of joy.
You make me know the path of life; in your presence is unbounded joy, in your right hand eternal delight.
Psalm 16:11 CJB
I’m old enough to remember Maranatha Praise albums. Fifty to sixty minute sets of themed worship songs, they were a wonderful blessing.
When we got our first CD player, I kept a stack of these CDs next to it-they were the background music to life with littles and often just what I needed to make it through the day.
Many of my favorite songs were scripture set to music in ways that made it easy to memorize.
My Help Comes From the Lord, Hosanna Music
I lift up my eyes to the hills, where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord,
My help comes from the Lord,
My help comes from the Lord-Maker of Heaven and Earth.
When faced with a seemingly undefeatable enemy, Jehoshaphat led the charge with a worship band.
When he had consulted with the people, he appointed those who sang to the LORD and those who praised Him in holy attire, as they went out before the army and said, “Give thanks to the LORD, for His lovingkindness is everlasting.” 2 Chronicles 20:21 NASB
These days find me humming or singing old tunes that speak truth to my heart, lift my spirit and declare the victory of Christ when things look dim.
In the midst of the Valley of the Shadow of Death, God uses these songs to remind me of His faithfulness, even here.
Dominic was born on Memorial Day, May 28, 1990. I had spent the weekend working in the yard without a thought that my son would soon be appearing. He wasn’t due for ten more days and so far, none of my children had been born “early”.
I wasn’t ready!
But he was determined to make his entrance on his own terms. And that’s pretty much how he did everything.
And then he left us-“early”.
I wasn’t ready for that either.
We celebrate Memorial Day with cookouts and fun family gatherings. But that isn’t what this day is for. This day has been set aside to remember those who died serving our country.
In war after war, families across America have been devastated by the deaths of their sons and daughters, many taken in the prime of life, at the dawn of adulthood.
Almost every family and community has a story of burying a promising young soul that was sure to make a difference but who never got that chance.
My father served and my son is now serving.
And to all the mothers and fathers whose sons and daughters gave the last full measure for their home and country, I say:
“Thank you for your sacrifice. Thank you for the love poured into the child that became the brave man or brave woman who would put his or her life on the line for what they believed in. Your toil bore much fruit that continues to bless others today.”
You have given up what no one has the right to ask of you.
You live with both the honor of your child’s legacy and the horror of your child’s absence.
And if your child survived the battlefield but could not survive the scars of war, I am so very sorry.
I understand the pain of missing the child you love, I hear your heart and I am praying for you.
As we gather with our families and enjoy freedom purchased with the blood of sons and daughters, may we REMEMBER.
May we honor the ones who gave everything they had to secure our liberty.
And may we remember the families left behind who can never forget.
The strongest love anyone can have is this. He will die to save his friends.
John 15:13 WE
I have three surviving children.
And every time I don’t hear from one of them when I expect to or I can’t reach them on their cell phone I have to take a deep breath and speak truth to my heart.
God began to do a good work in you. And I am sure that he will keep on doing it until he has finished it. He will keep on until the day Jesus Christ comes again. Philippians 1:6 WE
I have to talk myself out of plunging headlong off the precipice of dark “What ifs” that is always at the edge of my concious thought.
I have to remember that even when I am right there with them, I am not in control.
I am not the one who orders their days and determines their steps.
You see all things; You saw me growing, changing in my mother’s womb; Every detail of my life was already written in Your book; You established the length of my life before I ever tasted the sweetness of it. Psalm 139:16 VOICE
Losing Dominic suddenly, unexpectedly and violently has shaken my faith. All the verses I recited and underlined and “claimed” now bear witness against my doubting heart.
So I remind myself that God had a plan, He has a plan and that He worked His plan through Dominic and is now working it through me.
“Now when David had served God’s purpose in his own generation, he fell asleep; [and] he was buried with his ancestors” Acts 13:36 NIV
Here I am, a bit more than two years later, and I can say this:
If my grip on Jesus was the determining factor in staying connected, I would have fallen into the pit long ago. If MY hold on hope decided whether or not the rope slipped through my hands, I would be lost.
But while I can muster the strength (sometimes) to grab desperately at a thread of His garment, I am not the one who holds Him. He is the One who holds ME.
Jesus said:
“I give them eternal life, and they shall never lose it or perish throughout the ages. [To all eternity they shall never by any means be destroyed.] And no one is able to snatch them out of My hand.”
John 10:28 AMPC
I still have work to do, and I don’t want to be immobilized by fear of what might happen. I don’t want to waste the days that I am given by worrying about the ones that might be taken away.
For we are God’s [own] handiwork (His workmanship), recreated in Christ Jesus, [born anew] that we may do those good works which God predestined (planned beforehand) for us [taking paths which He prepared ahead of time], that we should walk in them [living the good life which He prearranged and made ready for us to live]. Ephesians 2:10 AMPC
So I recite truth to my heart.
I sing courage to my spirit.
I remind myself that while I am not in control, but I am loved by the One Who is.
I first learned my son had been killed in the dark hours of morning.
I made phone calls.
I had to be certain there was no mistake in identifying the accident victim. I assured the officer on the other end of the phone I was not in denial, I was just confirming what I knew was true.
That was a lie-my ears heard it as true.
Some part of my brain was acting as if it were true.
And I was passing the information along as true, but it was not until I saw his body that my heart embraced as absolutely undeniable what I had been told.
He was gone, gone, gone. No coming back.
That’s when I knew: Death is awful.
It is hard to have patience with people who say, ‘There is no death’ or ‘Death doesn’t matter.’ There is death. And whatever is matters. And whatever happens has consequences, and it and they are irrevocable and irreversible. You might as well say that birth doesn’t matter. ~C.S.Lewis
Death was not part of God’s perfect plan for the people He made and the world He created.
But sin marred that perfection and we are left to walk this wounded world in bodies that, at best, wear out, and at worst, plunge headlong into darkness due to illness, accident or violence.
Where is the victory in this defeat?
Where is the happy ending to this sad chapter of life?
Victory is declared when I trust in Jehovah-Nissi-the LORD my Banner-to uproot the evil that the enemy seeks to sow into my life.
Victory is displayed in my surviving children who have chosen to lean in and labor on and love and laugh even while grieving the loss of their brother.
Victory is demonstrated when my marriage does not crumble under the heavy weight of sorrow, when my family is made stronger- not weaker-and when our story breathes courage into the hearts and lives of others facing devastating trials.
The ultimate and eternal victory lies in the finished work of Christ.
I need to emphasize, friends, that our natural, earthy lives don’t in themselves lead us by their very nature into the kingdom of God. Their very “nature” is to die, so how could they “naturally” end up in the Life kingdom?
But let me tell you something wonderful, a mystery I’ll probably never fully understand. We’re not all going to die—but we are all going to be changed. You hear a blast to end all blasts from a trumpet, and in the time that you look up and blink your eyes—it’s over. On signal from that trumpet from heaven, the dead will be up and out of their graves, beyond the reach of death, never to die again. At the same moment and in the same way, we’ll all be changed. In the resurrection scheme of things, this has to happen: everything perishable taken off the shelves and replaced by the imperishable, this mortal replaced by the immortal. Then the saying will come true:
Death swallowed by triumphant Life!
Who got the last word, oh, Death?
Oh, Death, who’s afraid of you now?It was sin that made death so frightening and law-code guilt that gave sin its leverage, its destructive power. But now in a single victorious stroke of Life, all three—sin, guilt, death—are gone, the gift of our Master, Jesus Christ. Thank God!
With all this going for us, my dear, dear friends, stand your ground. And don’t hold back. Throw yourselves into the work of the Master, confident that nothing you do for him is a waste of time or effort.
I Corinthians 15:50-58 MSG
Jesus has redeemed and restored what the enemy has stolen.
I will not enjoy the fullness of this victory until I embrace Dominic in heaven.
But I can live confidently in the promise that it has already been decided.
I can walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death without fear, because Jehovah-Nissi-the LORD my Banner (my Victory) is with me. (Psalm 23:4)
I am not alone.
In the days when battle was conducted face-to-face, before missiles were guided from planes and ships and game consoles continents away-a fortified tower, a castle or a deep cave were places of refuge and safety.
Death could be imminent, but if a harried combatant could make it to one of these places he could catch his breath, regroup, plan a counter-attack.
Grief feels like a battle.
And I often find myself looking for refuge. I need a safe place to find my strength again.
Praying is still very hard for me.
I know my Father is listening, I know Jesus is with me but I don’t really have much to say. The one great cry of my heart cannot be answered, my son will not return.
So I run to the promise that is His Name.
When I can’t even whisper a prayer, I speak peace to my soul by declaring Who He is.
Years ago I memorized this verse:
The name of the Lord is a fortified tower; the righteous run to it and are safe. Proverbs 18:10 NIV
And it has been a light in the darkest nights of this dark, dark journey.
I know many who read my blog are fellow bereaved parents and they are battling too. They are struggling to find a way to face another day without their beloved child. They hurt and they long for the comfort of hearing God’s voice in the Valley of the Shadow of Death.
Prayer might be hard for them too.
I want to speak courage to your heart.
I want to whisper hope to your battered soul.
When you can’t speak, when you feel defeated, when you are running for your life from the enemy who would have you believe that there is no safe place, remember that God sees you. He is your refuge.
His name is powerful and He is mighty to save.
Many of us have memorized the twenty-third psalm. We don’t see it in English, but these verses contain several names of God.
At the start of this passage, God reveals Himself as Jehovah-Roi: “The Lord my Shepherd”.
He is the God Who sees, He is the God Who is present, He is the God Who guides me even here in this awful valley.
So I declare the truth that God is my Shepherd to whoever and whatever is chasing me.
I declare that God is with me to my weary soul even when I cannot feel His Presence.
I shout, “God is my Shepherd” to the darkness and run for safety to His arms.
From the world’s perspective there are only two potential responses to trials-better or bitter.
I can either use the struggle to strengthen my resolve to take charge of my life or I can give up and give in, wallowing in self pity.
If I embrace popular culture as my guide, the best outcome I can hope for is that I grow as a result of sorrow, pain, conflict, tragedy and hardship.
But Scripture tells me that there is a third option: I can choose brokenness.
I can choose to submit my heart and my life to God and His purpose.
I can lie prostrate, unprotected, impotent and trust that the One Who made me will ultimately remake these shattered pieces of what’s left of my life into a masterpiece, declaring His faithfulness and goodness.
“But enduring deep pain and unchangeable circumstances requires continued commitment to face the fork in the road over and over, and to choose well each time.”
It is A Daily Struggle
We walk past them every Sunday.
Those people who almost didn’t come to church. The ones who spent thirty minutes just talking themselves into getting out of bed.
And we never know.
Life is hard. Suffering abounds.
Since losing Dominic I have become ever more aware of how very many people are hurting. And how very many people are truly brave. Every. single. day.
It’s one thing to act in an instant-when adrenaline rushes through your veins and pumps extraordinary strength to your muscles and grants clarity to your mind to gather all your nerve and power to jump in and DO SOMETHING.
It is quite another when, without aid of chemical courage, you wake each day to a long list of “to do” items knowing all the while you will be dragging the heavy weight of grief and sorrow everywhere you go.
Read the rest here: Brave
It’s not a cozy, warm-yourself-up fire in my safe fireplace.
It’s a raging, too-hot-to-survive inferno, blazing away and uncontrollable.
Losing my son is refining me, burning off the excess, drawing out the inner woman.
April 14, 2014
“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God’s power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. IN ALL THIS YOU GREATLY REJOICE, THOUGH NOW FOR A LITTLE WHILE YOU MAY HAVE HAD TO SUFFER GRIEF IN ALL KINDS OF TRIALS, –These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls.”
1 Peter 1:3-9 NIV
My heart is broken open wide, Father.
Fill it with love, compassion, grace, peace, hope and mercy-but never seal it shut-let what You fill it with spill out
“These three remain-faith, hope and love. And the greatest of these is love.”
April 29, 2016
I’m still in the fire.
I don’t know if I am used to the heat or if it has burned down to a cooler flame but it is more bearable to be here.
God has answered my whispered prayer:
He has filled and is filling my heart.
He has not allowed grief to make it hard.
“But we all suffer. For we all prize and love; and in this present existence of ours, prizing and loving yield suffering. Love in our world is suffering love. Some do not suffer much, though, for they do not love much. Suffering is for the loving. This, said Jesus, is the command of the Holy One: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” In commanding us to love, God invites us to suffer.”
― Nicholas Wolterstorff, Lament for a Son
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