truth – Page 88 – thelifeididntchoose

Life. Suspended.

Grief … gives life a permanently provisional feeling. It doesn’t seem worth starting anything. I can’t settle down. I yawn, I fidget, I smoke too much. Up till this I always had too little time. Now there is nothing but time. Almost pure time, empty successiveness.

~C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

It is really impossible to convey the bizarre nature of life after traumatic loss to anyone who has not lived it.

And yet, here I am, trying my best to do just that.

I guess I always hold out hope that at least one heart will be affirmed in his or her experience or one heart will be made aware of how to offer compassionate companionship to someone they love.

Since Dominic ran ahead to heaven my family has operated in two worlds: one where every heartbeat taps out a rhythm of, “he’s not here, he’s not here” and another where we live, breath and move as we have always done.

But there are things I’ve had to lay aside for these past four years. Things that used to consume time, talent, resources and energy that I just. could. not. do.

Before Dominic ran ahead I was a list making fool. I was a manila folder maniac. I was a put-things-in-their-place person.

That ended when Dom left us.

From that day forward, I have hung on by a thread.

I’ve managed by assigning things to piles or see-through plastic bins stacked mile high in the room that used to be his. If forced to locate an important document, it takes hours or days to find it where before I could put my finger on it in minutes.

I feel like these years have been both a horrible journey and a giant parentheses in the story of my life.

While forced to carry on and meet every necessary obligation, every ordinary daily, weekly, yearly chore-it’s been kind of a dream.

I am just now beginning to reclaim some of the long-neglected corners of my house, my heart and my life.

I’ve hauled out the manila folders again. I’m organizing some of the piled up papers so that I can once again lay hands on them in a timely way.

I cleaned my covered porch of years of dust, bugs, tools and random items so I can sit outside and enjoy the spring breeze.

I’ve purchased hanging baskets of flowers to brighten the front entrance and am remembering to water them (a giant leap forward!).

I’m writing more cards, sending more birthday greetings and making more personalized gifts for friends and family.

I still feel like I’m moving through dense fog some days but the corners are lifting and I occasionally see the sun light around the edges.

My life has been profoundly changed.

My life will always be informed by my loss.

But I am slowly learning to live this new way, with this new me and to be productive once again.

It is No Sin to Ask, “Why?”

Not that I am (I think) in much danger of ceasing to believe in God. The real danger is of coming to believe such dreadful things about Him. The conclusion I dread is not ‘So there’s no God after all,’ but ‘So this is what God’s really like. Deceive yourself no longer.
C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

Sunday I sat through what started off as a promising sermon.

The text was from Jeremiah when he was sent by God to the potter’s house for an object lesson.

This is the word that came to Jeremiah from the Lord: “Go down to the potter’s house, and there I will give you my message.” So I went down to the potter’s house, and I saw him working at the wheel. But the pot he was shaping from the clay was marred in his hands; so the potter formed it into another pot, shaping it as seemed best to him.
Then the word of the Lord came to me. He said, “Can I not do with you, Israel, as this potter does?” declares the Lord. “Like clay in the hand of the potter, so are you in my hand, Israel.
Jeremiah 18:1-6 NIV

This story hits home in so many ways.

I identify with Jeremiah’s tears shed over the message he was called to deliver (Israel was about to experience harsh judgement) and the image of God as Potter and me as clay in His hands, to be molded and shaped according to HIS purpose and plan regardless of how I might like to be molded and shaped.

But the sermon took a turn that hurt my heart when the preacher began suffusing the message with personal experience. It is absolutely his prerogative to relay his own life story but it is another thing to draw general conclusions from HIS experience as being relevant and instructive for EVERYONE.

His wife had been diagnosed many years ago with a brain tumor. She underwent extensive surgery and therapy but ultimately survived and is still living today.

Hallelujah!

I am thankful their story has a hopeful and happy ending (so far). The problem came when the pastor said, “I never asked, ‘why?'” and then proceeded to imply that asking, “why?” was wrong and the mark of an immature faith.

I’m delighted his faith was strong enough (or naive enough) that his heart never argued with his theological framework.

That is not my experience.

And it is not the experience of millions of faithful Christ followers who have been asked to bear up under burdens that do NOT have a hopeful or happy conclusion this side of heaven.

It took every bit of self-control I had to not stand up and shout, “REALLY? What about Job? What about Paul? What about David? What about JESUS?”

The Psalms are filled with questions.

Jesus Himself asked, “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” from the cross.

God invites us to ask.

“Come now, and let us reason together,” saith the Lord
Isaiah 1:18 KJV

My faith is stronger because I have taken my questions to the only One Who can answer them.

He doesn’t always answer.

But He always listens.

He doesn’t give me reasons.

But He gives me Himself.

I am the clay-I know that. But unlike dumb physical material that can be molded and shaped without feeling or self-awareness, I am a human being, created in the image of God Himself and endowed with feelings, knowledge and a heart that longs to understand.

So I must choose–as an act of free will–to offer myself as a living sacrifice, to remain supple and malleable under the Hand of my Creator as He makes me into what He intends me to be.

But submission does not preclude my questions.

I would argue that true submission insists on acknowledging and asking the questions and choosing to yield anyway.

Anything less is not submission, it is simply fatalism.

I serve a God Who is my Father, not my dictator. I serve and worship a Savior Who is gentle, humble and kind, not harsh, proud and uncaring.

It is no sin to ask, “Why?”

In fact, it is exactly the kind of exchange relationship insists upon.

You never know how much you really believe anything until its truth or falsehood becomes a matter of life and death to you. It is easy to say you believe a rope to be strong and sound as long as you are merely using it to cord a box. But suppose you had to hang by that rope over a precipice. Wouldn’t you then first discover how much you really trusted it?
C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

Even The Worst Day Only Lasts 24 Hours

Thursday was the fourth anniversary of Dominic running ahead to heaven and I felt like I was doing pretty well.

Maybe 48 months of practice had paid off.

No ugly crying-just drip, drip, dripping tears leaking from the corner of my eyes that morning.

Lots of thoughts were going through my mind but none touched my heart so deeply that I was immobilized. In fact, my youngest son and I went to work on a project together.

Busy hands and all that, you know.

It was a beautiful spring day. Just like THAT day when my lawn filled with friends and family, shaking heads and sharing hugs.

Doing OK, making progress, making a difference.

So, so many sweet friends sent messages to let me know they were praying for our family. My phone was making happy noise all morning.

It spoke courage to my heart.

Until thoughtless words and random comments broke through defenses I didn’t even know I had built.

And there I was, overwhelmed. It was not at all how I expected to end the day and it got worse.

Not only did I fall asleep ugly crying, I fell asleep angry and discouraged.

I know this emotional roller coaster is absolutely normal. It is absolutely unavoidable. All I can do is hang on and ride it out.

Friday morning’s sunrise brought new hope, new strength and new resolve.

Even the worst day only lasts 24 hours.

I’m so, so thankful for that.

because of the lords great love we are not consumed

Repost: Feet of Clay

It’s not just my feet that are made of clay! I am clay from top to bottom and I am reminded of that fact every day. I try and fail. I strive but make no progress. I want to do better, but I don’t.

God is not surprised. I do not have to live up to some impossible standard in order for Him to love me. He made me, He knows me and He loves me. Covered by the blood of Christ I am free to live in that love, to love others from that love.

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.

Read the rest here: Feet of Clay

Repost: Living Without Answers

We are a people who love a good mystery as long as it leads to a good ending-bad guys vanquished, questions answered, motives revealed and a tidy resolution.

But real life is rarely so neat and squared away.

Just consider your average doctor’s visit. Diagnosis is often a result of trial and error when a simple blood test or throat culture is unavailable to confirm or rule out a particular malady. Yet we blunder forward, trying this and that until something either works or the illness runs its course.

Relationships are even trickier.

Read the rest here: Living Without Answers

“Lord, Renew My Strength!”

I was pregnant or nursing for nearly a decade.

With four children under six, I have no idea how I managed to get anything done, much less EVERYTHING done.

Some days I didn’t. But most days I muddled through.

But I was so. so. tired.

Every morning started with a prayer, “God, give me what I need for today. Give me strength for today. I won’t ask for tomorrow. Just for today.”

As life accelerated to that frenzy only parents of teens can understand-one here, another there, cars everywhere-my body was rebelling. My joints screamed, “No! Let’s just stay right here for a day (or a week!).”

That wasn’t an option, so I leaned in and prayed again, “God, renew my energy. Give me strength. If You aren’t going to cure me, help me learn to live well with my limitations.”

I thought my middle-aged years would give me a bit of rest. A time to catch my breath.

I was wrong.

Dominic’s death plunged me into emotional, physical, mental and spiritual exhaustion I could never have imagined. I did not know you could be so tired and still breathe.

I found myself begging God once again for strength.

Now it is my daily prayer.

And He is faithful to do as He has promised.

Nearly four years and I have gotten out of bed every. single. morning.

I do what needs to be done.

I’m still standing. ❤

Don’t you know? Haven’t you heard?
    The Eternal, the Everlasting God,
The Creator of the whole world, never gets tired or weary.
    His wisdom is beyond understanding.
God strengthens the weary
    and gives vitality to those worn down by age and care.
Young people will get tired;
    strapping young men will stumble and fall.
But those who trust in the Eternal One will regain their strength.
    They will soar on wings as eagles.
They will run—never winded, never weary.
    They will walk—never tired, never faint.

Isaiah 40:28-31 VOICE

Holy Week Reflections: Resurrection-Reality and Reassurance

Paul wrote, “if Christ has not risen, then our preaching is in vain [it amounts to nothing] and your faith is devoid of truth and is fruitless (without effect, empty, imaginary, and unfounded).” ( I Corinthians 15:14 AMPC)

If Jesus was just another prophet or good man or moral teacher and his body lies buried forever then there is no foundation for my hope.

But He IS risen! And I DO have hope!

“The worst conceivable thing has happened, and it has been mended…All shall be well, and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well.” ~Julian of Norwich

I’m not sure when I first read this quote, but it came to my mind that awful morning. And I played it over and over in my head, reassuring my broken heart that indeed, the worst had already happened, and been mended.

Death had died.

Read the rest here: Resurrection: Reality and Reassurance

Holy Week Reflections: Be Like Jesus

I want to reach out with the same heart that my Master has for the lost and hurting and lonely and outcast.

I want it to be obvious to Whom I belong.

Today is the day on the church calendar when we pause and reflect on the Last Supper, and the last words of Jesus to His disciples.

A year’s worth of sermons is contained in John 13-17 but this week I have been drawn to just one verse:

[Jesus said] “Now I am giving you a new command—love one another. Just as I have loved you, so you must love one another. This is how all men will know that you are my disciples, because you have such love for one another.” John 13:34 PHILLIPS

The Israelites were given circumcision as the sign of the covenant. The shedding of blood as the mark of belonging.

But Jesus knew His blood would be the final and complete sacrifice required for sin. He knew the debt would be fully paid. And blood would no longer be required.

So a new mark is given, a new seal is declared: LOVE will be the designation by which others know who belongs to the Father through Christ, His Son.

I look around, and see how far we have fallen from the example and standard Jesus set for those of us who follow Him.

Read the rest here: Maundy Thursday

When God Disappoints Us

I know many faithful readers who also follow Christ may gasp at this title. But the definition of disappoint is most literally, “not to live up to expectations”. And if we are honest, every one of us has expectations of how God is going to act in our lives. I know I did!

Aren’t there promises in Scripture that declare good things for those who obey the Lord? Aren’t there proclamations of protection?

So when Dominic died I was most certainly disappointed. ❤

I can identify with the faithful among the Palm Sunday crowd- joyful because all evidence pointed to a happy climax.

Here was the Messiah entering Jerusalem just like the prophets promised. Surely an end to this pagan tyranny was near!

“Hosanna in the highest! Blessed is He Who comes in the name of the Lord!”

Just a little longer and this heavy burden will be lifted, this hard life transformed.

A few days later this same crowd would choose a murderous rebel over the gentle Rabbi because He had not lived up to their expectations of deliverance.

I can identify with those folks too.

God most certainly has not lived up to my expectations. He has not fashioned my life according to my plan.

He has not delivered me from this body of sin and death.

He allowed death to enter my home and my heart.

I am tempted, in my sorrow, to shake my fist and demand an answer. And then, in a moment of clarity I realize how foolish that is.

“Where were you when I [God] laid the earth’s foundation?
    Tell me, if you understand.
⁵Who marked off its dimensions? Surely you know!
    Who stretched a measuring line across it?
⁶On what were its footings set,
    or who laid its cornerstone—
⁷while the morning stars sang together
    and all the angels shouted for joy?

Job 38:4-7 NIV

I am in no position to judge God’s motives, His heart, His plan. I am bound by time and blinded by the limitations of my flesh.

I want immediate relief because pain is painful and sorrow is heavy and grief is unbearable in my own strength.

But God knows the end from the beginning. He is weaving all these things into a story that will be told for eternity. He is creating masterpieces to declare His glory, His faithful love and His grace and mercy.

For we are the product of His hand, heaven’s poetry etched on lives, created in the Anointed, Jesus, to accomplish the good works God arranged long ago.

Ephesians 2:10 VOICE

So on this Palm Sunday I will join the crowd of worshipers shouting, “Save us! Son of David!”

I will lay my sacrifices at His feet and trust that He will redeem and restore what the enemy has stolen.

I will refuse impatience when the time of waiting lingers long before me.

I will refuse despair when it looks like things are dark and may never be light again.

I will trust and not be afraid because my King has conquered and is conquering every evil thing and every sad thing.

The Prayer of the Average and Broken

I am so thankful for my children.

While I was the teacher for their early years, they are now teaching me.

From my daughter, Fiona:

It’s tempting to look at someone doing a hard thing (like foster care) or living out a hard truth (like child loss) and label them as “special”, “brave”, “extraordinary”, or “chosen by God for a big purpose”.

I get it.

Those things ARE hard and downright terrifying… and a lot of days the sacrifice weighs heavier than the reward (in this life).

But as long as we relegate Christ-like love and endurance to the “chosen few”, we excuse ourselves from walking the hard (and often lonely) sacrificial path God has called each of His children to.

“On earth as it is in Heaven” is not the prayer of the brave, it’s the prayer of the average & broken who know that they are not extraordinary but dependent; who know that there is no formula for this life that will keep you & your loved ones safe this side of Heaven; who have decided that they are not content to simply get their own selves or families safely to shore.

Only you know in your heart what your kingdom work is on this earth and only you can decide if you will do it.

Every single one of us is weak and tired and ordinary and lacking “ideal” circumstances and timing and resources.

God doesn’t ask us to be “special”, He asks us to be obedient with no guarantee of earthly rewards or success.

You are one of the ordinary people loved by an extraordinary God.

“Brave, special, extraordinary, sacrificial, & compassionate” are not the calling.

They are characteristics of regular folks forged in the fire of immense challenges who start by saying a scared “yes” to our broken world’s screams for help.

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