Category: grace

Choosing Brokenness

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

 

Why Not?

I cannot bring Dominic back-I cannot have my child once again in my arms.  I cannot undo the damage death has wrought and the great gash loss has made in my heart.  

And so I am left with my pain and my questions.

“Why?” is not a particularly fruitful question (although I ask it still).

 “Why not?” is probably more helpful.

If I consider the lives of all the people God chose as examples of His faithfulness and grace there is not one who escapes heartache.

Not even one was allowed to walk this sod untouched by suffering that forced them to lean hard into the only Hope that lasts for eternity.

Adam and Eve reaped the consequences of their sin, were cast from the Garden and buried one son murdered by the other.

Noah watched the world descend into unbelievable wickedness around him and then witnessed the destruction of all flesh on earth.

Abraham left the familiar, trudged for years in a land promised but not given, had a son that he loved but had to send away because he was begotten outside the plan and will of God. He finally received the son of promise but was aked to sacrifice him.

He grew old without the blessing of possessing much of what God had promised him.

Jacob reaped the reward of his deception but lived a complicated and heartbreaking life.

Joseph enjoys a happy ending,  but it was a long lonely path that led him there.

David, Moses, Paul, the apostles, Elizabeth, Hannah, Mary, Esther, Ruth-all were called to walk in sorrow as vessels of God’s glory.

Only recently in human history have we been able, in small pockets of abundance, to mistakenly assume this mortal life is as wonderful (or, dare I say it?) MORE wonderful than the promised eternal life provided by God through the ultimate and complete suffering and sacrifice of Jesus.

I want victory without war.  

I want harvest without planting and working the fields.

I want to be happy and satisfied here yet still have a heart for heaven.

It is impossible to have both.

Only in light of eternity am I free to live a life set apart for God’s use in the here and now.

Only as a recipient of God’s grace can I be a conduit of that grace to others.

Only in deep sorrow can I find the true value of Christ’s promise that He will never leave me nor forsake me.

Only alone can I fully appreciate the gift of God’s constant companionship.

Only when I am truly hungry can I taste the bread that satisfies my soul.

Simon Peter answered, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You [alone] have the words of eternal life [you are our only hope].

John 6:68 AMP

Then and Now: Trial by Fire

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then and Now: The Morning After

April 13, 2014: The Morning After

Everyone is home-everyone except Dominic.  Quiet now that there’s just us.  How did I even manage to close my eyes last night?  How are we going to face another day? How are we going to face all the days to come?

This is the song that came first to mind even as I sat crying in disbelief:

“Alleluia!  Alleluia! For the Lord God Almighty reigns!”

You can watch it here:  Agnus Dei by Michael W. Smith

  And they sang a new song, saying:

“You are worthy to take the scroll
    and to open its seals,
because you were slain,
    and with your blood you purchased for God
    persons from every tribe and language and people and nation.
   You have made them to be a kingdom and priests to serve our God,
    and they will reign on the earth.”

   Then I looked and heard the voice of many angels, numbering thousands upon thousands, and ten thousand times ten thousand. They encircled the throne and the living creatures and the elders. In a loud voice they were saying:

“Worthy is the Lamb, who was slain,
    to receive power and wealth and wisdom and strength
    and honor and glory and praise!”

  Then I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and on the sea, and all that is in them, saying:

“To him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb
    be praise and honor and glory and power,
for ever and ever!”

  The four living creatures said, “Amen,” and the elders fell down and worshiped.

Revelation 5:9-14 NIV

Either it is true and everything will be well-or it is not true and nothing will be well.

IT IS TRUE.

HE IS TRUE.

God is on His throne.

“Melanie”-clad in black. Covered in sorrow but trusting in God.

“He who sows in tears shall reap in joy.” Psalm 126:5

eyes of the lord attentive

April 29, 2016

Today I still cling to those verses, still hold those promises close to my heart.

Some mornings I wake and cannot wrap my mind around the fact that my son is gone.

Sunrise finds me crying out to God, begging Him to make it untrue, to turn back the clock and miraculously restore my life before loss.

It is still hard and I still struggle.

But I believe,

I believe,

I believe.  

Then and Now: God’s Grace in Grief

I’ve kept a spiritual journal for decades.  Every now and then I like to gather the pages, look back and reflect.

My journaling intensified after Dominic’s accident.  

Writing out my thoughts, questions, pain and sorrow was one way to process the grief.  I copied quotes and scripture.  I prayed prayers and screamed, “WHY???”.  I tried to document the moments when I felt God close and when I felt He was far away.

As I filled each notebook, I added the dates it covered and tucked it away.  I wasn’t sure when I would be able to look at those painful pages again.

A couple months ago I brought the pile of journals and set them by my chair.  A couple weeks after that, I started reading them.

Some of the entries are still too painful to read.

Some of the events too personal to share.

But over the next few days I’m going to offer a peek into the first hard days after loss.

The days when breathing is a chore, when it still seems like a bad dream, when part of my heart was certain Dominic would walk through the door once again even after I had seen his body lowered into the ground.

My prayer in sharing is this:  that those who read know that God did not abandon me in despair; that it is possible to survive the seemingly unbearable loss of a child; that God does not despise our honest lament; and that when the enemy comes in like a flood, the Lord shall lift up a standard against him (Isaiah 59:19).

April 12, 2014 (The day of the accident)

The LORD gives and the LORD takes away:  Blessed be the Name of the LORD.  May my soul find rest in Thee alone.  May my eyes look only to Thy Face.  May my heart’s peace be the Prince of Peace.  “Dominic”-belonging to God-You gave him to me and he is Yours once again.  Marana Tha-Come quickly, Lord Jesus!

 

 

Messy Lives, Merciful Savior

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.

I want the scales to balance, I want the last chapter to wrap up all the loose ends and expose all the secrets.  I want to know what happened and why-oh, to know WHY!

But that’s not how it is.  I live a messy life with untidy edges.

So do most people.

The Bible doesn’t gloss over the hard places of life.  God’s Word doesn’t hide the faults of God’s heroes. His Spirit directed the men who penned the holy pages to tell it all-the good, the bad AND the ugly.

I think sometimes in our desire to demonstrate the power of Christ in our lives we want to tie things up into a perfect package.

I know I do-I want desperately to be able to say that I can see the good in Dominic’s death. I long to be able to point to a finished monument of redeemed pain and restored joy.

But I’m compelled to tell it like it is.

And it is just plain HARD.

But God uses the broken things of this life to display His glory.

Because then there is NO DOUBT as to the Source of strength.  He leaves no room for boasting.

He declares His power and faithful love by taking those of us who are weak and stumbling and leading us home, redeemed and victorious.

For look at your own calling as Christians, my brothers. You don’t see among you many of the wise (according to this world’s judgment) nor many of the ruling class, nor many from the noblest families. But God has chosen what the world calls foolish to shame the wise; he has chosen what the world calls weak to shame the strong. He has chosen things of little strength and small repute, yes and even things which have no real existence to explode the pretensions of the things that are—that no man may boast in the presence of God. Yet from this same God you have received your standing in Jesus Christ, and he has become for us the true wisdom, a matter, in practice, of being made righteous and holy, in fact, of being redeemed. And this makes us see the truth of scripture: ‘He who glories, let him glory in the Lord.

I Corinthians 1:26-31 PHILLIPS

 

 

Being a Friend: Loving Well Series

Oh, the blessing of true friendship when your world is full of pain!  There is no substitute for loving companionship when all you see is darkness.

There are those who are brave and reach out to me and offer words or hugs or prayers and their efforts give me strength and comfort.

Read the rest here:  Loving Well: Being a Friend

Some Days are Like That

I am better able to face the morning than I was in the first days and weeks after Dominic’s death.  I am more adept at laying aside the overwhelming sorrow and focusing on what needs to be done.  I can flash a smile, make small talk, act “normal” and participate in daily activities.

But there are still days….

Days when I cannot think of anything but the fact that he’s gone. Moments when sadness invades my heart and fills my soul. Hours when I just want to find a way to forget that every tomorrow will include the absence of Dominic’s presence and the fullness of joy I once knew before my world included burying a child.

And on those days and in those moments, a quiet word of encouragement can send a piercing ray of hope like a silver light into my heart.  A smile, a nod, a hug or a note can be the thread I hold onto as I struggle to pull myself up from the depths of despair.

I’m not the only one walking around with wounds.  I am not alone in the darkness of pain and heartbreak.

Jesus came to offer hope to the hopeless.  To lift up the downtrodden. To free the captives and open the eyes of the blind:

  The Spirit of the Almighty Lord is with me
    because the Lord has anointed me
        to deliver good news to humble people.
    He has sent me
        to heal those who are brokenhearted,
        to announce that captives will be set free
            and prisoners will be released.

Isaiah 61:1-2 GW

Our Savior walked tenderly among us and did not crush even the most wounded:

“A broken reed He will not break [off]
And a dimly burning wick He will not extinguish [He will not harm those who are weak and suffering];
He will faithfully bring forth justice.”

Isaiah 42:3 AMP

As we move toward the celebration of life over death, victory over defeat, hope over despair, may each of us be a beacon of light to someone walking in darkness.

May our hands reach out to help, our lips speak mercy and grace and may our hearts be so full of love that it spills out onto everyone we meet.  

Some of us tend to do away with things that are slightly damaged….When we dismiss people out of hand because of their apparent woundedness, we stunt their lives by ignoring their gifts, which are often buried in their wounds.

We all are bruised reeds, whether our bruises are visible or not. The compassionate life is the life in which we believe that strength is hidden in weakness and that true community is a fellowship of the weak.

– Henri J. M. Nouwen

 

A Daily Struggle

I despise the platitude plastered across social media memes:  “Hard times either make you bitter or better”.

It makes it sound so simple.

As if all I have to do is make a single choice between two equally available paths.

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.

Every day I am forced to confront my heart’s tendency to turn inward and embrace loneliness and isolation in an attempt to protect myself from further and perhaps greater pain.

Each moment I have to choose whether I will lean into despair or hold onto hope.

And I just don’t agree that there are only two possible outcomes of a life that endures hardship or grief.

Bitterness is certainly an option.

If I allow myself to rehearse the reasons why my son should not have died, why my family doesn’t deserve this grief, why my life is so much harder than it should be–then the case for bitterness grows strong and becomes attractive.  I can pack my briefcase full of evidence and pull it out at every opportunity when confronted with yet another “happy moment” splashed on Facebook.

Bitterness is always a temptation, and I must refuse it everyday.

But “better” implies that I lacked something that I have now gained.

Better diminishes my grief and gives the impression that I’d do it all over again because my painful experience has wrought amazing results.

Losing my son, regardless of what I have learned, is not the same as sticking to a diet or working up to a marathon run or getting a master’s degree.

The subtle danger in declaring myself “better” is that I can decide I’m a measuring rod for others to judge their grief journey.  Or I can become like the reformed smoker who forgets how many tries it took to quit or how hard it was to finally stop smoking and instead mocks those who are still struggling.

I am not “better”.

I am broken.  

I am bankrupt of any illusion that I am the captain of my ship.  I understand by very, very painful experience that there are no earthly guarantees life will turn out according to plan. I embrace with both hands the notion that the most precious gift is people we love and no matter how long we have with them, it will never be enough.

I can’t claim a final victory of faith over doubt, of good out of bad, of lessons learned from effort expended.

Instead I extend my empty hands and hurting heart to be filled with grace and mercy.

I choose love and refuse hate.

I continue to engage this broken world from my broken perspective and offer compassion and understanding to those who are broken too.

Blessed [be] the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassions, and God of all encouragement; who encourages us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to encourage those who are in any tribulation whatever, through the encouragement with which we ourselves are encouraged of God.

2 Corinthians 1:3-4 DARBY

 

 

 

 

 

Loving Well: Meaningful Ministry to Grieving Parents

Our journeys begin in different ways.

Just as every birth story is unique, so, too, is every parent’s story of loss.

It may be a phone call or an officer at the front door.  It may be a lingering illness or a sudden one. Our children may have lived days or decades.

Their death may be anticipated, but it is never expected.

And it is always devastating.

No one is prepared to bury their child.

But some of us have to.

In the best circumstances, loving well is a challenge.  It requires commitment and energy when many of us feel like we are already running on empty. The challenges are magnified in the face of child loss.

Yet as members of the Body of Christ, our calling is to minister to, encourage, care for and walk with those among us who are grieving.  And it is a daunting task.

If, as W.H. Auden said, “Death is the sound of distant thunder at a picnic”, then the death of a child is the sound of a tornado.

Compassion compels friends and family to reach out, but fear can constrain them.

“What do I say?”  “What can I do?”

Unsure of the answer, they may say and do nothing.

Yet some friends and family dive in bravely and do everything they can to help parents face this awful reality.  And I am certain so many more would come alongside, speaking courage and offering help if they knew more about what DOES help and what IS encouraging.

I have three goals for these next posts:

  • To share the way many bereaved parents have been loved well by those they know.
  • To encourage the members of the Body of Christ to reach out to anyone who has suffered loss and to give concrete ideas of how they can do that.
  • To exhort pastors and other ministry leaders NOT to set up a PROGRAM but to create a NETWORK of individuals, gifted in mercy and willing to serve, who can be responsible for shepherding the members of a local body who have experienced the loss of a child.

I hope you will join me as I share from my own experience and the experience of other bereaved parents how the Body of Christ can minister to members who bear the pain of grief and loss.

Please don’t think that these suggestions are appropriate only for those who have lost a child or even only for those who have experienced grief associated with death.

Grief enters our lives in many forms: the end of a marriage, chronic disease, job loss, and any number of unexpected and often undesired life transitions.

Ministry begins with awareness.  When we learn to see with the eyes of Jesus, we can become vessels through which His grace and compassion are poured out to others.

Then Jesus made a circuit of all the towns and villages. He taught in their meeting places, reported kingdom news, and healed their diseased bodies, healed their bruised and hurt lives. When he looked out over the crowds, his heart broke. So confused and aimless they were, like sheep with no shepherd. “What a huge harvest!” he said to his disciples. “How few workers! On your knees and pray for harvest hands!”

Matthew 9:35-38