promise – Page 13 – thelifeididntchoose

New Eyes for an Old Story

I’ve studied it many times over a lifetime-beginning with fun “coat of many colors” crafts in preschool and ending with an emphasis on remaining faithful in trials.

Joseph’s story is typically told from his point of view.

But I’ve never considered it from Jacob’s perspective. Until now.

Because on Jacob’s side of the door, Joseph was gone, gone, gone-beyond reach, out of sight, nowhere to be found.

All the while Joseph was very much alive, God was working and Joseph would (ultimately) flourish and Jacob would (ultimately) be reunited with his son.

There was no way for Jacob to know this so, of course, he was heartbroken:

Then Jacob tore his clothes, put on sackcloth and mourned for his son many days. All his sons and daughters came to comfort him, but he refused to be comforted. “No,” he said, “I will continue to mourn until I join my son in the grave.” So his father wept for him. Genesis 37:34-35

Jacob’s grief was real. His loss was devastating. His heart was shattered and there was no substitute for the son he was missing.

I understand that now.

I glossed over these verses in the past-rushing to the “happy ending” promised a few chapters later.

But Jacob didn’t have that option.

He was living these years-one day after another, one foot in front of another, one sunrise, one sunset-never knowing he was making his way toward reunion with a living son.

I share Jacob’s heartbreak.

My son is out of reach, out of sight, unavailable to my arms and eyes.

But I have something Jacob didn’t have-I know the end of the story. I have the Bible and its promise that this life is not all there is, that while this body dies, the soul lives on eternally.

And for those who choose Jesus, the soul lives for ever and ever with Him.

Hallelujah!

While I too, mourn deeply for Dominic, there IS comfort.

I cannot ignore the pain of separation, but I will hold steadfast to the promise of reunion. I cry for what has been lost, but cry out for faith to cling to what will ever be.

This earthly journey is dark, but there is assurance that light will triumph.

Bifurcate \ˈbī-(ˌ)fər-ˌkāt, bī-ˈfər-\

Bifurcate: 1. to cause to divide into two branches or parts; 2. my life.

Before Dominic ran ahead to heaven I led a fairly unified life.

Our family was unusually close, our goals closely aligned, we shared the same faith, had developed routines and even all liked creamy peanut butter.

That changed when Dom left us-suddenly I was forced to live with one foot HERE and one foot THERE.

I didn’t get to choose, it was decided for me.

Paul’s words took on new meaning and great relevance:

We know that if our earthly house—a mere tent that can easily be taken down—is destroyed, we will then live in an eternal home in the heavens, a building crafted by divine—not human—hands. ²Currently, in this tent of a house, we continue to groan and ache with a deep desire to be sheltered in our permanent home ³because then we will be truly clothed and comfortable, protected by a covering for our current nakedness. ⁴The fact is that in this tent we anxiously moan, fearing the naked truth of our reality. What we crave above all is to be clothed so that what is temporary and mortal can be wrapped completely in life. ⁵The One who has worked and tailored us for this is God Himself, who has gifted His Spirit to us as a pledge toward our permanent home.

2 Corinthians 5:1-5 VOICE

Groan–YES!

Deep longing can only be expressed with low, gutteral sounds-there are no words!

I am in this earthly tent but want desperately to be free of it and clothed with the eternal-where joy unspeakable will reign and sorrow and death will be no more.

So this Lenten journey is helpful to me-it acknowledges the struggle between flesh and spirit. It encourages my heart to walk by faith and not sight, to grab hold of that which counts forever and let go of that which is doomed for destruction.

The truth is, all of us who follow Jesus lead a bifurcated life.

It’s simply that some of us can ignore that truth. Until death touches our bodies or our families, we can pretend that the earthly tent’s not so bad, that it might be somewhere we’d enjoy staying quite awhile.

I am not at all thankful for Dom’s death. I will never be thankful my son left us in the prime of life, full of promise and without saying good-bye.

But I am thankful that I am unavoidably confronted with the truth that this life is fleeting, this world is only a moment and this body temporary housing for my eternal soul.

Paul goes on to write:

In light of this [our understanding that our life here is temporary], we live with a daring passion and know that our time spent in this body is also time we are not present with the Lord. ⁷The path we walk is charted by faith, not by what we see with our eyes. ⁸There is no doubt that we live with a daring passion, but in the end we prefer to be gone from this body so that we can be at home with the Lord. ⁹Ultimately it does not matter whether we are here or gone; our purpose stays fixed, and that is to please Him.

2 Corinthians 5: 6-9 VOICE

My eyes see one thing, but my heart knows another.

Hidden Blessings

I’ve always been this way-careful as I walk through the woods. I don’t remember a time when I could crash unaware of what was underfoot.

So when springtime brings the violets, I find myself zig-zagging this way and that to avoid crushing them as I go about my daily chores.

Often obscured by last year’s leaves-I can make out the vibrant purple peeking from underneath-if I’m paying attention.

But there are plenty of folks who make it all the way through March and April without ever seeing them.

And that makes me sad.

They are so beautiful.

I consider them a gift.

It’s easy to race through life and never take note of God’s gifts. We get busy and distracted and overwhelmed by the need to make a living and we ignore the Lord of life.

If I am going to SEE what He’s doing, how He’s providing, where He is blessing, I have to open my eyes.

But once I do, I find that blessings pop up everywhere.

Just like springtime violets.

Christmas Decorating: Take Two

photo-35

Last week I wrote how my well-laid plans for setting up the Christmas tree and decorating had gone awry.

I thought I was ready to pull out the old ornaments with the old feelings and forge ahead.

I was wrong.

But yesterday, after gazing at the “lights only” tree for all these days, I decided to make another go at it.

I packed up the tear-inducing decorations and stored them safely away. I pulled out the box of ornaments I used last year-mostly new things I bought or made since Dominic left for Heaven.

Each group of ornaments was chosen because it helps me hold on to hope.

I have hearts-stuffed, handsewn hearts, papier mache hearts, corrugated cardboard hearts.

Lots of hearts.

hope-and-heart

Hearts to remind MY heart that it was Love that brought Jesus to earth. It was Love that kept Him here. It was Love that took Him to the cross even after He had begged His Father in the garden for another way. And it was Love that broke the chains of death and raised Him from the grave.

That same Love is keeping Dominic safe until we are together again.

Stars to help me remember that Jesus brought Light into darkness. They help me hold onto the FACT that His light will not be extinguished. They speak truth to my spirit that even though this Valley is dark, it will not last forever.

I made some balls from little scrappy bits of fabric wrapped and glued in place. The pieces are useless alone-not big enough to do a thing. But together they are beautiful and strong and have purpose.

My life feels like it’s been ripped to shreds. But even shreds are useful in God’s hands. I’m waiting to see what He plans to do with them.

In the meantime, I hold on.

Old Christmas cards turned decorations are strung together and hung as visual prayers. I save my cards from year to year and cut out the lovely and meaningful pictures and scriptures.

I made my own paper copies of the Names of Jesus and burned the edges.

I cling to the promises in each Name. I may reach heaven through the fire of tribulation and trial but no power on earth, above the earth or under the earth can stand against His Name.

names-of-jesus

I will be preserved.

Little drums hang as silent witness to Dominic. His heartbeat lives on in mine. His rhythm that thrummed through our lives and is missing now still matters. He is making a joyful noise in Heaven.

He is not silent.

One day I will hear him again.

So tonight I sat in the soft glow of the lights AND the ornaments remembering…

Remembering years past when life was very different-untouched by tragedy and gut-wrenching loss and also remembering the promise that this is not the way it will always be.

mourning-to-dancing

We Were Not Made to Die

My children grew up surrounded by life and by death.

On our small farm they got to see puppies, kittens, goats, sheep and horses take their first breath. We watched turkeys and chickens hatch-struggling in that last great effort to throw off the shell.

And we also witnessed life’s end.

Every. time. it feels wrong. Every. time. it feels like defeat.

And it is–we were not made to die.

God didn’t create this world to be full of endings. He made it to be full of life and fellowship and love and for His glory.

But we live in a broken world.

When the first man and first woman looked away from their Loving Creator and embraced temptation, death came in through sin.

That longing we have, that sense that death is WRONG-that death is not the way things SHOULD be-that’s the spark of God’s Spirit speaking to us.

It’s the Father’s call to our hearts to turn to Him.

God the Father has made provision for eternal life with Him through Jesus the Son.

Yes, this world is full of death-it has touched my life in a very personal and awful way.

But my heart and God’s Word tells me that death is not what we are meant for-that there is MORE.

We who have known only futility, decay, homesickness, and exile, have found strong encouragement to hold fast to our hope because we are no longer helpless and alone. He’s already gone before us, trail blazing straight through exile and death into life as our Captain. Yes, I know this is true. I can hope even in the midst of doubt.

Through his death and resurrection, he has flung open the gate, torn the curtain that divided us from God’s presence, and done it all as the incarnate Son of Man. God has not forever abandoned his creation. Mankind is still his good work. In the body of Jesus, Man has gone into the presence of God, to his throne room, to the company of myriads of angels dressed for a party (see Hebrews 12:22). I’m in a form of exile now, but exile doesn’t mean abandonment. Jesus has made sure of that.

~Elyse Fitzpatrick, Home

As we move toward celebration of the birth of Christ, I pray we look also to His life, death and resurrection and the promise of hope He has placed in our hearts.

Waiting With Hope

Oh, we mamas are experts at waiting.

We wait for nine months to hold that little person growing inside us. We wait for them to learn to crawl, walk, talk and read. And then we wait to pick them up at school, for piano and dance lessons to be over and ball practice to end.

As long as our children are with us, we are always waiting for something.

We never expect to be waiting to join them in heaven.

But some of us are.

And this waiting is real hard-not like the other times when I knew about when the waiting would end. Even though it was sometimes tiresome, lessons and practice wouldn’t last much longer than the appointed time.

I guess I believe there is an appointed time for this waiting to end as well.

I do believe that God has my life in His hands. When my work here is through, He will call me home, just as He called Dominic.

Trouble is, I can’t find a clock that tells that time. I can’t look at a calendar and know for certain THIS will be the day.

And not knowing how LONG I have to hold on is a huge part of what makes it

so.

very.

hard.

Sometimes I want to give up. Sometimes I want to let go of hope and dive into despair.

Some days I am afraid I can’t keep on keeping on.

Not. one. more. step.

But God has promised to meet me even here.

His Word tells me that there is a reward for those who wait with hope, who trust even when it seems foolish and who lean in even when they would rather run away.

But the eyes of the Lord are on those who fear him,
on those whose hope is in his unfailing love,
to deliver them from death
and keep them alive in famine.

  We wait in hope for the Lord;
    he is our help and our shield.
In him our hearts rejoice,
    for we trust in his holy name.
  May your unfailing love be with us, Lord,
    even as we put our hope in you.
Psalm 33:18-22 NIV

The Amplified Bible renders that last verse like this: “Let Your mercy and loving-kindness, O Lord, be upon us, in proportion to our waiting and hoping for You.”

In proportion to my waiting and hoping, God will fill my hurting heart with HIS mercy and loving-kindness.

He will strengthen me regardless of how many days I must walk in this waiting.

If I hold onto the hope I have in Christ, He promises not to let go of the other end.

I Will Not Be Moved

I’m not brave by nature.

If I have a choice, I will run every time. But there are just some things worth fighting for.

My family is one of them.

I will not let the enemy have them.

I will not allow despair to overtake us, fear to bind us, hopelessness to sap our strength.

I will not let death win.

And though he stalks me like a hungry lion, knocks persistently demanding attention, follows me as close as my own shadow-I will not let the evil one overtake me or find a home in my heart.

I refuse despair.

This night of loss will be longer than I can bear in my own strength, but I am convinced the Lord will restore my joy.

I am committed to cling to Christ even through my eyes are worn out with tears.

I fight fear.

There is no guarantee that my cup of suffering is full. It may yet hold more sorrow, but I will not worry about what tomorrow may bring.

God is there

I won’t give in to hopelessness.

I hold onto hope because hope is a Person. He is faithful and He is able. What I have given to His hands is safe and secure.

And though death is awful-it is not the end of the story.

When trapped between the Egyptians and the Red Sea, the nation of Israel was understandably frightened.

There WAS no escape-turn back and be slaughtered or move forward and drown.

They despaired of help and begged God to save them.

…Moses told the people, “Don’t be afraid. Just stand where you are and watch, and you will see the wonderful way the Lord will rescue you today. The Egyptians you are looking at—you will never see them again.
Exodus 14;13

They could never have imagined the miraculous answer to their desperate plea for rescue.

I realize that the answer to my cry for help is not going to be restoration of my son in this life. I know that I will have to wait for redemption of my pain.

But I am convinced that what the world regards as a final chapter is only the beginning of the story.

I serve the same God Who parted the Red Sea.

He is still on the throne.

He is not sleeping and He is not silent.

I can stand my ground between today and eternity confident that He is at work in all things.

He is an ever present Help in time of trouble.

I will not be moved.

The Cup of Sorrow

See, here’s the thing: to the outside world, my son’s death happened at a single point in time.

But to me, his death is a continuous event.

I must lift the cup of sorrow every day to parched lips. I must choose to take it to the One Who can help me lift it.

Jesus knows this cup.

He knows my pain: My Cup Overflows

Resurrection Power

I’m uncomfortable here in this world.

This world where children die and people hurt one another and justice is denied and babies go hungry.

I long for the day prophesied in Isaiah when the lion will lie down with the lamb, swords will be ploughshares and death will be banished forever.

Paul wrote:

All I want is to know Christ and to experience the power of his resurrection, to share in his sufferings and become like him in his death,in the hope that I myself will be raised from death to life.

Philippians 3:10-11 GNT

He wasn’t only talking about the final resurrection, when all in Christ shall rise and reign forever with their Savior.

He was also talking about the earthly resurrection-of life breathed into who we are and what we do by the Spirit of God living in us.

It’s exciting to think about the life of Christ residing in me. It’s not so exciting to consider the death of self that must precede that life.

But

Without death, there is no resurrection.

Without destruction, there is no restoration.

Without surrender, there is no victory.

My heart rebels against this.

I want life without death. I want resurrection power without the grave. I want to know Jesus more intimately without being stripped bare and standing naked before Him.

But that is impossible.

To be a follower of the Crucified means , sooner or later, a personal encounter with the cross. And the cross always entails loss. The great symbol of Christianity means sacrifice and no one who calls himself a Christian can evade this stark fact.

Elisabeth Elliot

I realized very soon after the news of Dominic’s death reached my ears that the last vestige of pride had been ripped from my heart by force.

I was, and am, in the dust.

I cannot raise myself from this prostrate position. I cannot breathe life into this dead body. I cannot, by force of will, pick up and keep going.

I am fully reliant on the God Who made me to give me life.

But Thou, O Lord, art a shield for me, my glory and the lifter up of mine head.

Psalm 3:3 KJV21

This isn’t news to God, it’s always been true.

But He has opened my eyes.

Forced to face the darkness of the grave, I can more fully appreciate the light of His promise.

Inseparable!

In the first days and months after Dominic left us I copied this verse dozens of times-in my journal, on notecards, on posterboard to plaster across the refrigerator and stick on mirrors and doorposts.

I had to remind my heart that even death could not separate my son from Him.

That even the most wily schemes of the enemy could not rip me from the hand of my Savior and that even my own doubts or fears or questions were not stronger than God’s love through Christ to hem me in and keep me safe within the confines of His protection from eternal damnation.

God’s Word is living and active.

It is part of my inheritance in Christ Jesus and I can appropriate it for my own life. When I am afraid and when I doubt, I try to repeat truth until my heart can hear it:

“If God is for [Melanie and Dominic] who can be against us?

³²He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for [Melanie and Dominic]—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give [Melanie and Dominic] all things?

³³Who will bring any charge against [Melanie and Dominic] whom God has chosen?

It is God who justifies. ³⁴Who then is the one who condemns? No one. Christ Jesus who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us.

³⁵Who shall separate [Melanie or Dominic] from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?

³⁷No, in all these things [Melanie and Dominic] are more than conquerors through him who loved us.

³⁸For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers,³⁹neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate [Melanie or Dominic] from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Romans 8: 31b-35,37-39 NIV

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