As I continue to walk this Valley, my heart asks the question, “What does healing look like?”
Fewer tears? Check.
More laughter? Check.
Better able to function? Check.
Read the rest here: What Does Healing Look Like?
Category: grace
How Can I Trust My Child Is With Jesus?
There are many burdens bereaved parents bear in addition to the heaviness of living with child loss.
Some had unfinished business,
some were estranged,
some had harsh words
or no words at all before their child left them.
And some are oh, so afraid that the child that made a sincere profession of faith in Christ might not be in heaven because he or she was living outside the will of God when they died.
I can’t offer words to undo or soothe some of the other burdens, but I can offer hope from the Word of God to assure any parent afraid for the eternal salvation of their child that he or she is safely Home.
If your child made a genuine profession of faith in Christ, then no single impulsive decision or even a series of bad choices, can undo what God has done for him or her through the blood of Jesus.
If Satan is not strong enough to snatch us from God’s hand, our feeble human choices are certainly not strong enough!
Jesus declared those whom the Father had given Him could in no way be snatched from His hand:
28 And I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand.
29 My Father, which gave them me, is greater than all; and no man is able to pluck them out of my Father’s hand.
30 I and my Father are one.
John 10:28-30 KJV
The circumstances of a child’s death do not negate his or her profession of faith in the blood of Christ Jesus!
42 Then he [the repentent thief on the cross] said, “Jesus, remember me when you enter your kingdom.”
43 He said, “Don’t worry, I will. Today you will join me in paradise.”
Luke 22: 42-43 MSG
I realize that various denominational traditions teach different things, but I am utterly convinced that it is God Himself Who calls, Who saves, Who keeps and Who is keeping at this moment our precious children who put their trust in Jesus:
For it is by grace [God’s remarkable compassion and favor drawing you to Christ] that you have been saved [actually delivered from judgment and given eternal life] through faith. And this [salvation] is not of yourselves [not through your own effort], but it is the [undeserved, gracious] gift of God;
Ephesians 2:8 AMP
I also rest satisfied that He Who began a good work in our children is faithful to complete it. If salvation depended on our good works, or our own faithfulness-ALL of us would be lost.
We are hid in Christ. His righteousness (and HIS alone) is our righteousness.
For ye are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God.
Colossians 3:3 KJV
Our sins are flung as far as the east is from the west. They are hid behind God’s back-unviewable (have you ever tried to see something on the small of your back-without a mirror?):
Dominic was not at the height of his Bible-toting, church-going, praise-song-singing days when he left us. He was an adult student in law school, living in his own apartment and making his own choices. He made some I didn’t like. But that doesn’t change the FACT that he belonged (and STILL belongs) to Jesus.
Your child who trusted Jesus is safe, dear parent.
He is in his really, truly Home.
One day there will be great joy when we are reunited. Until then, we rely on the promises of God in Christ to see us through.
I pray for every parent reading that God overwhelms your hurting heart with His love, grace and mercy and assures you of His faithfulness.
And may He give you strength for each new day.
❤ Melanie
Help! I Need Somebody!
So, more than twenty years on a farm and I can NOT back a trailer. Nope. Can’t do it.
One day I spent hours trying to teach myself how to do it. Never was able to do anything other than manage to jackknife the trailer, go unhook it and start over.
When I go somewhere with a trailer I do one of two things: (1) I find a space where I can drive in and be able to just make a loop or (2) I find the nearest person who CAN back a trailer, hand them my keys and ask them to do it.
I feel NO shame.
But that’s not the case with other things I can’t do. So many times I try to avoid admitting that I am unable to meet certain people’s expectations or do certain things that I either used to be able to do or feel I SHOULD be able to do.
I think the reason I don’t mind outing myself on trailers is because that confession usually gets a laugh or a knowing look from the person who helps me or an admission from someone standing near at the feed store that they also have trouble backing up a trailer.
But when I say, “I just don’t think I’m up to teaching VBS” or “I’d love to come to that event but I’ve reached my social quota this week” or “I’m still struggling with driving by that spot or eating at that restaurant” it’s often met with (at best) a quizzical look or (at worst) a comment about how I should be “better” by now.
And then I DO feel shamed. I feel like I don’t measure up, like I’m not as valuable as the next person or that I have failed some cosmic test.
You know what though? That’s a reflection on other people’s lack of compassion and experience or their personal insecurity NOT a reflection of my worth.
It is really just fine for me to admit my limitations because EVERYONE has limitations.
I can’t lift a 250 lb barbell. But I can whip up dinner for fifty people. I can’t read Chinese but I can read Dr. Seuss with an accent and hit all the rhymes on cue. I can’t run a marathon but I can work all day without complaining (most of the time).
I’m human (surprise!). So are you.
I have some limitations as a result of burying a child. You may have limitations because of age or disease or something else I don’t know about or can’t see.
That’s OK.
Let’s make a pact: I’ll take you as you are and you can take me as I am. I’ll help you when you need help and you can help me when I need help.
We will extend grace and receive grace as needed to make life work.
Isn’t that really the essence of human community?
Don’t Dare Hope
My prayer list is very short. It’s been whittled down to the basics. I don’t ask for much and I expect less.
But today I will be waiting with bated breath to find out if a prayer that’s been lifted up for months will be answered.
It’s risky business to ask when the answer may be “no”. If I’m honest, I’m not sure my heart can take it.
I am confident that I will see Dominic in heaven when I get there. My heart rests assured that the blood of Christ is sufficient and my salvation sure.
BUT….
I do not dare hope anymore that when I pray specifically for someone or something it will come to pass. Oh, I believe God HEARS my prayer, that He knows the desire of my heart, that He COULD grant my request. But I no longer rest my head on the pillow of peace, settled in my spirit that the “effectual fervent prayers of a righteous man or woman availeth much.”
I will be the first to admit that to hold both thoughts simultaneously seems impossible and contradictory. Yet I do.
Because I’ve learned the hard way that my prayers are not God’s “to do” list. He is sovereign, not me. His plans may or may not conform to mine. His work in my life may very well include pain and sorrow and disappointment.
Sometimes I just want that old naive hope back. I want to erase this dark knowledge from my heart.
Especially when someone I love needs my prayers.
I want to believe. I want to trust. I want to rest assured that not only is my prayer heard, but that it will be granted. But it is oh, so hard!!!!
So I offer the only prayer I can still lift up with absolute confidence: I plead mercy and grace.
I pray that God may have mercy on my fragile spirit, that He may grant my desire and strengthen my faith. And I pray that regardless of the outcome, He will give me the grace to accept it.
It’s the best I can do.
No Harm?
It’s so easy to take Bible verses out of context. Our modern rendering of the Word of God broken into chapter and verse lends itself to lifting a sentence or two and ignoring the surrounding words.
Sometimes it doesn’t seem to matter much-the verse CAN stand on its own.
But sometimes it is devastating. Especially to those who find themselves in a situation that seems to clearly contradict the promise.
Jeremiah 29:11 is a popular verse plastered on posters, coffee cups, graduation cards and lovely Christian wall hangings.
It’s a hard one for me to swallow the way it’s usually dished out.
Death feels pretty much like harm to me.
I can spiritualize the verse and say, “Well, God’s ultimate plan is to give me and Dominic a hope and a future”.
That is absolutely true.
But that’s not what Jeremiah was talking about. He was speaking to a specific people at a specific point in time.
The original context of the Scripture was just for Israel-a promise that the nation would not be utterly destroyed or left bereft in exile. A promise that God would fulfill His covenant with Abraham and keep for Himself a people to declare His faithful love to the nations.
I think we moderns take it out of context when we apply it to individual lives.
Many Jews died in exile and not all who could return, chose to return when Cyrus issued the order.
The Scripture that speaks to my heart in this Valley of the Shadow of Death is this:
And I am convinced and sure of this very thing, that He Who began a good work in you will continue until the day of Jesus Christ [right up to the time of His return], developing [that good work] and perfecting and bringing it to full completion in you.
Philippians 1:6 AMP
Here is my HOPE. Here is MY promise of ultimate redemption and restoration.
God is still working to bring about His purpose in and through Dominic and in and through me “until the day of Jesus Christ”.
I don’t know how it works but He’s doing it.
He Who is Faithful and True has promised.
Repost: Making Space for the Broken at the Table of the LORD
These days are especially difficult for me because Palm Sunday and Easter are markers on the road to remembering the worst days of my life. Dominic left us the Saturday before Palm Sunday and was buried the Monday after Resurrection Sunday.
I hate death.
We shouldn’t rush past it’s awfulness. If we do, we miss the glory of the finished work of Christ.
As we enter the week on the Christian calendar when most churches celebrate the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus Christ, I am reminded that often we race past the road that lead to Calvary and linger at the empty tomb.
But to understand the beauty of forgiveness and the blessing of redemption, we MUST acknowledge the sorrow of sin and the burden of brokenness.
Read the rest here: Making Space for Brokenness at the Table of the LORD
Feet of Clay
God is not offended by my human frailty. He isn’t looking down from Heaven, shaking His head at my halting steps forward on this long, hard road.
He understands my fear, my sadness, my longing for wholeness.
But sometimes it’s hard for me to remember that.
I’m surrounded by messages that scream,
“You can do better!”
“Be all that you can be!”
“Try harder, practice more, do this, do that and you can attain your dreams!”
Even in Christian circles we tend to rank one another based on hours spent in Bible study, Sunday School lessons taught, singing in the choir, serving on committees, showing up at services.
That was the way of the Pharisees-impossible burdens piled high that crushed precious hearts so that they couldn’t imagine a Father in Heaven Who loved them.
That made Jesus angry.
They crush people with unbearable religious demands and never lift a finger to ease the burden.
Matthew 23:4 NLT
He didn’t come to mock my limitations or make light of my struggles.
He came to Shepherd my heart past those very things to see His heart for who He created me to be.
He reaches out and reaches in. He sings love and courage and hope when I’m desperate to hear it.
For the Lord your God has arrived to live among you. He is a mighty Savior. He will give you victory. He will rejoice over you with great gladness; he will love you and not accuse you.” Is that a joyous choir I hear? No, it is the Lord himself exulting over you in happy song. “I have gathered your wounded and taken away your reproach.
Zephaniah 3:17 TLB
Reality is this: I AM broken. I AM frail. I AM burdened by this life on earth. It is absolutely too heavy for me to carry. I will be crushed to dust beneath its weight.
But He offers to take that burden for which I was never made and replace it with the one perfectly fitted for my shoulders.
His yoke is easy.
His yoke is light.
And He is the One Who pulls alongside me to bear it.
Subtle Disapproval
I mention that today is a hard day to someone who knows my story and the words fall with a loud “thud!” between us.
I don’t know whether to pick them up or not and she isn’t having anything to do with them.
So I move on to another topic. Clearly this one isn’t going anywhere.
There are lots of ways to send messages of disapproval. You can “just say NO” like kids are told to do in anti-drug and anti-bullying campaigns. You can rant and rave and argue and rail against someone or something in person and on social media.
Or you can just ignore someone when they spill what matters to them like an offering on the ground at your feet.
The opposite of love is not hate.
It’s indifference.
The opposite of support is not opposition.
It’s looking the other way.
Strangers line streets to cheer marathoners on-offering cups of water and words of affirmation.
“You can do it!” “Keep going!” “You are more than half-way there!” “Don’t give up!”
And yet many of us are running the race of our lives without a cheering section.
I get it–you are so very tired of the fact that I am so very tired. I have worn out the welcome mat to the door of your heart. It DOES get old when I bring the same baggage with me each time we talk.
Trust me, I’m working hard at unpacking it. I’m doing all I can to lighten my load and what I ask you to help me carry.
But it is a slow, slow process.
And every time I need help or encouragement and don’t get it, another brick is added to the suitcase.
You might think you are helping me learn to ignore the pain by ignoring my mention of it but I don’t have that luxury.
It’s my heart wound, not yours.
It’s my child buried, my child not here, my child gone from sight-how exactly should I ignore that? Which of your children could you put away for a lifetime and forget was ever here?
If you want to help me lighten the load,
let me unpack my pain by telling my story.
If you want me to finish the race strong,
cheer me on.
I Don’t Get to Be Ugly
It’s easy to justify bad behavior when I am hurting.
As the saying goes, “Hurt people, hurt people”.
But if I know Jesus, I don’t get a pass. I don’t get to act ugly or pretend I don’t know better or have His Spirit to help me BE better.
Sometimes I AM ugly. Sometimes I do act badly. I am ashamed that even though I am fully aware of my own desperate need for grace and mercy I sometimes withhold it from others.
I’m also ashamed that I can be judgmental and hateful and short-tempered and short-sighted. I can exclude others and run out of patience and choose to turn away when I should be tuning in.
And I’m really, really sorry.
I’m trying to lean more fully on the grace available to me through God’s Holy Spirit. I am trying to pause so that the first thing that springs to mind doesn’t always fly out of my mouth. I am learning to wait before returning phone calls, emails and text messages.
I try to take a walk when my heart is twisted ugly so that the ugly doesn’t spill out onto others and ruin THEIR day.
I don’t get to lay aside the calling to love because I’ve laid a child to rest.
I’m working hard to remember that.
Facing My Inner Pharisee
In centuries past it was common for Christ followers to fast.
They fasted for many reasons: to consecrate themselves for a task; to seek answers to prayer; observance of seasons on the church calendar; or for strength to overcome besetting sin.
Today, fasting has fallen out of favor in most western churches-deemed unnecessary or an attempt to gain favor with God by “works”.
That’s unfortunate.
Because fasting has never been about making points with God, it’s been about removing self-reliance from our spiritual vocabulary.
It’s not about demonstrating personal fortitude or displaying self-righteousness, it’s about recognizing my weakness and desperate dependence on Christ.
Perhaps the greatest hindrance to our work is our own imagined strength; and in fasting we learn what poor, weak creatures we are – dependent on a meal of meat for the little strength which we are so apt to lean upon.
~Hudson Taylor
Like the Pharisees, though, I am apt to make much of my “sacrifice” and little of Christ’s sufficiency. I want to bargain with God and rise in the ranks of His favor because I’m so “good”.
It doesn’t work like that.
I was almost to the end of a 40 day fast when Dominic was killed.
I am physically unable to fast 40 days consecutively so, for several years, I had done an every-other-day fast so that it equaled 40 days.
At some point in the first week after Dom ran ahead to heaven I remember crying out to God, “What exactly do You want from me??? I’ve done all that I know to do in an attempt to live up to Your expectations, and yet it is never enough!”
And (not then, certainly!) but at some point in the nearly 3 years since, He answered, “Your righteous acts are as filthy rags. The only sufficient sacrifice is My own Son’s blood.”
THAT was humbling.
Because even though I would have given the same answer to anyone else who thought they could “work” their way into God’s good graces, obviously the truth of it had not seeped into the fabric of my being.
I WAS trying to make points with God. And I was angry He hadn’t taken that into consideration and spared me the pain of burying my son.
We often mock the Pharisees for thinking that “getting it right” means “being righteous”, but I understand the temptation to substitute acts of righteousness for relying on relationship through Jesus Christ.
The one means I am in control, the other means I have to follow and give up control.
If there is one thing I’ve learned through child loss that I cannot forget for even a millisecond is: I am NOT in control.
I am utterly dependent on Him for life, for breath, for saving AND sustaining grace.
For it’s by God’s grace that you have been saved. You receive it through faith. It was not our plan or our effort. It is God’s gift, pure and simple. You didn’t earn it, not one of us did, so don’t go around bragging that you must have done something amazing.
Ephesians 2:8-9 VOICE
Fasting from food is relatively easy. Fasting from my tendency toward self-righteousness is much harder.
This year, as I observe Lent,
as I fast,
as I add in holy habits,
I am asking God to help me remember that I am not trying to win His favor,
I am making room to hear His heart.
thelifeididntchoose 