I have learned so much since that day when Dominic left us suddenly for Heaven.
Some of the things I know now are things I wish I didn’t know at all.
Many serve me well-not only in how I respond to my own pain and loss-but also how I respond to the pain and loss in the lives of those I love.
Read the rest here: So What SHOULD I Say or Do For My Grieving Friends or Family?
Hey friend-I’ve been there.
Many of us who’ve spent decades in church can attest to filling a position because it answered a need deep inside of us rather than because of our love for Jesus.
It’s entirely possible to be near the things and people of God-even God Himself- and not be attentive to or aware of the Presence of Christ.
There were lots of folks around the cross.
Some were paid to be there-for the Roman guards it was just another day at work. Some were there against their will-the two thieves were going to be crucified somewhere it just happened to be next to the Son of God.
Some wished they weren’t there as they watched their son (Mary) and beloved rabbi (John) die. Some were just walking by and were either curious or not depending on their dispositions.
Today Chole invites me to think about where I am in relation to the cross-am I near but not listening?
Am I “doing” but not “loving”?
Is my body occupying a pew or a pulpit while my spirit is far away?
Paid to be close to Jesus: nearest and yet farthest away. The paycheck can change your perspective whether paid in cash or praise. The soldiers valued Jesus’ stuff more than His life. As they kept themselves busy around the cross, they numbed themselves to His voice.
Today, fast God-as-job. Whether your check comes from a church or not, consider ways in which you, too, may be near in body but absent in spirit, taking care of Jesus’ stuff but now attending to His voice. Proximity does not automate intimacy. Only love transforms “near” into “for”.
Alicia Britt Chole
There are some congregations that still practice “foot washing” in remembrance of Jesus’ humble service to His disciples.
It’s a beautiful tradition but hardly captures the reality of what it was like to wipe dust, dirt and dung from the feet of (probably) sweaty men with unkempt toenails and calloused soles.
Before the cross, before that ultimate defining act of sacrifice and love which required His willing death, Jesus showed us how to LIVE. He could have given a lecture on love and humble service but He didn’t.
He chose the lowliest task to demonstrate that love is DOING something. It’s doing whatever needs to be done for whoever God places in your path.
I’m often guilty of thinking this task or that task is beneath me- hoping someone else will do it and I won’t have to. I need to be reminded often that’s simply not true.
❤
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
Read the rest here: Maundy Thursday
There are all kinds of doubts that creep in and take up residence in a mind after child loss.
Most of them have to do with the child that ran ahead to heaven.
But many are also about me: “What should I be doing? Where should I go from here?”
For those of us active in church ministries, we wonder, “When do I return to service?”
Read the rest here: The Danger of Rushing to Serve After Loss
Fairy tales and favorite movies aside, what does love really look like?
How can I see this feeling that has driven some to distraction, some to destruction and even more to dedication to another in spite of whatever obstacles life has placed in the path?
It’s not often writ large.
In fact, it’s usually tiny stitches in the tapestry of life.
A choice to fix her breakfast before his. * Bending down to plant a kiss on that frowning face. * Lending a tool or a few dollars knowing full well you’ll never see it again. *Refusing to leave when that friend pushes away. * Bearing witness to sorrow and joy and pain and celebration. * Holding a hand when a heart is barely able to hold on. *Showing up, without being asked, because presence makes a difference. * Consistency in the face of chaos. * Doing the things that need to be done even when they go unnoticed and the one you do them for is ungrateful. * Letting go when it’s time. * Turning up the heat for him and taking off your sweater. * Cooking a favorite meal or dessert or stew. * Carefully preserving a legacy. * Folding the towels the way she likes. * Phone calls across continents. * Refusing to give up, ever, no matter how hard it gets. ❤
If I want to see love, all I have to do is look around.
Love is so much more than flowers or candy on a single day of the year.
It’s a life lived in service to another.
It’s a pouring out.
Real love is costly-in time, in effort, in energy.
And it’s always, always brave.
I am the proud daughter of a military veteran.
I am the beaming mother of a son who served and the aunt of a nephew currently serving.
And while others argue about why and where we send troops and fight wars, I pray that wherever they go and whatever they do, they return home safely.
It’s fitting that we set aside a day to honor those who choose to place their lives on the line to fight for love and country and freedom.
Because they do, I can rest secure in my own bed under my own roof.
Growing up surrounded by (mostly) men in military uniform, I learned early the difference between an acceptable salute and a sloppy one, between “Attention!” and “At ease!”, between a captain and a colonel.
I still stand a little taller and walk a little straighter whenever I’m on base. Habits of a lifetime are hard to undo.
I will never, ever apologize for the life of service and sacrifice my father and son lived and my nephew is living regardless of whatever politics may scroll across our newsfeeds.
I will honor the living, honor the dead and honor the families that support them.
Don’t let this day pass by without considering the cost of the freedom we enjoy every single day and the men and women who fought and still fight to secure it.
Right, left, middle of the road-your first amendment rights are safe because they are willing to serve.
We mustn’t forget.
There are all kinds of doubts that creep in and take up residence in a mind after child loss.
Most of them have to do with the child that ran ahead to heaven.
But many are also about me: “What should I be doing? Where should I go from here?”
For those of us active in church ministries, we wonder, “When do I return to service?”
There can be a lot of pressure to “get back in the saddle” if you fill a large role in a particular ministry.
No one ever wants to find a replacement for an effective Sunday School teacher, youth worker or hospitality hostess. It’s hard when you have months of warning and nearly impossible when the vacancy opens up suddenly and unexpectedly.
But does the difficulty in finding my replacement mean that the burden is on me to keep serving, even when I am utterly broken, empty and unable to do so?
I don’t think so.
I’ve learned many things through child loss and one of them is this: the world still turns and things still get done in spite of the absence of any single person.
God invites us to join in the work He is doing in the world. It is HIS work, not mine. And He will absolutely assure that it gets done. If I am unavailable to fill a position, then He will raise up another to fill it.
Jesus said, “Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”
His yoke is easy, His burden light.
We are never to serve out of a place of exhaustion, weariness, emptiness.
Grief certainly exhausts us, wears us down and depletes our resources.
Take a season-as long a season as necessary-to allow the Holy Spirit to minister grace, mercy and love to your broken heart. That is the calling of Christ on our lives. To listen and follow our Shepherd-our Gentle Shepherd-who promises to bind up our wounds and tend our shattered souls.
People who have not suffered the death of a child will not understand. But it won’t be the first time you’ve been misunderstood if you’ve ministered for more than a minute.
Don’t let others’ expectations or your own fear of failure keep you from hearing the call of your loving Father to come to Him, to lean on Him, to rest in His arms as He sings over you.
There will be a day for ministry again.
I promise.
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
We just moved through the feel-good season of Christmas where we look with awe on baby Jesus, cute and cuddly in swaddling clothes, surrounded by His loving parents.
But what most moderns miss is that even in His birth, His death was foretold.
The manger was most likely hewn from stone, as was His tomb. And while the wise men’s gifts were costly and appropriate, they not only spoke of His kingship, they also included myrrh which was used for embalming the dead.
Jesus came to live so that He could die.
Both His life and his death are models for my own.
Every day of ministry was a day of self-denial-a pouring out of life onto and into the ones He came to serve.
And if anyone-if ANY. ONE.-could have lifted Himself above those who presented their brokenness like offerings at His feet, He certainly could. Not only was He without sin, He was God Himself in the flesh.
But look how gently Jesus welcomed the lost and lonely. See the compassion of the Good Shepherd for His confused sheep. Notice the love and kindness as He gathered the children around Him.
THIS is my example.
I am most certainly not above my Master.
I am called to love and serve as He did-not in a condescending way that says, “I am helping you because I am better than you.” But in a way that says, “I am helping you because I AM you.”
I have nothing I did not receive. I have nothing to give except from the bounty of my Lord.
My heart is just as broken as the next heart.
We all need His touch.
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.
How we are known, not for our love for one another, not for our service to one another, not for our care for one another– but for our divisiveness, our competitive nature, our exclusion, our anger.
Jesus died to make us free from the penalty of sin and death. But He LIVED to give us an example for LIFE.
Jesus washed the disciples’ feet-He took on a task that was considered the lowest, the most degrading household job and did it with love.
If this is how my Master served, what job can be too menial for me? What task can be too humbling for me?
The One in Whom all is held together, held the dirty feet of dirty men, who in just a few hours would desert Him.
I look forward to Heaven every day because part of my heart already lives there.
But as long as I am left on this earth, I want to live in love.
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.
thelifeididntchoose 