A Day of Mourning

"The women who had come with Jesus from Galilee followed Joseph and saw the tomb and how his body was laid in it. Then they went home and prepared spices and perfumes. But they rested on the Sabbath in obedience to the commandment." 
-Luke 23:55-56

How hard must it have been to watch Jesus suffer, die on a cross, then be given a hasty burial so as not to violate their law.  How much harder to sit idly by the next day, this same law preventing them from doing much else besides grieve.  I wonder if God designed it for this purpose- that they may have full access to their grief without passing it off in other actions.  A deeper grief.  A deeper understanding of what had transpired.  A deeper pain.  A deeper joy.  Yes, joy.  Just not that day. 

Knowing how the story ends, I see perfection in the pain.  Take any joyful event in your life.  The smile of a child.  A much-needed job offer.  The birth of a baby.  If that exact same action were to be experienced both after an absolutely fine, normal day and after a dark, grief-ridden day, which do you think you would feel more fully?  Which would be more needed?  Appreciated?  How do you think you would feel if it was nearly a full reversal of that which caused your grief?  I don't believe God wastes an opportunity to grow us, to refine us, to bless us.  To love us. 

Winds of Rain

Pulling weeds on a warm April day, I am aware of many things.  The temperature of the dirt.  The feel of it crumbling through my fingers as I lift another root out of the ground.  The stillness taking over the sky.  Birds have quieted their songs and a low, gentle rumble can be heard from somewhere distant.  A breeze drifts by, its coolness flowing over my hands and face.  The recognizable dampness that comes only just before the rain- with the scent of something strong, fresh, revitalizing- has arrived.  In a few minutes, perhaps even an hour, there will be rain.  A storm.  With power to nurture; destroy; beautify; reveal.  Whatever God commands. 

In His kindness and wisdom, He has gifted that moment of peace and comfort preceding the storm to envelop, to calm.  Perhaps not so much a warning of what is to come, but a reassurance that He is in control.  That in Him, we can breathe in His refreshment.  To feel again the invigoration of life that He has created and made new.  He graciously allows us to have that moment of tranquility to get us through the storminess that is about to pass by.  The storm may not halt us, but it can redirect us.  Fully embrace the cool breeze ahead of it so that it may lead you- harbor you- for whatever may come. 

Psalm 68: 7-9
When you, God, went out before your people, when you marched through the wilderness, the earth shook, the heavens poured down rain, before God, the One of Sinai, before God, the God of Israel.  You gave abundant showers, O God; you refreshed your weary inheritance.

Misunderstood

Lately, I have been misunderstood.  Misunderstood in my motives and actions.  A lot.  This is nothing new to me, and I still get in trouble for it.  Chastised.  Turned away from.  Put down.  Blamed. 

The first time I remember being misunderstood was in first grade.  My next door neighbor sat in the seat behind me.  She had just gotten permission from the teacher for a bathroom break.  Before my friend returned, the teacher said to pass all papers forward.  I turned around to collect papers from those behind me and noticed she had not written her name, so I grabbed a pencil and started to write in her name.  The next thing I recall was two hands slamming down hard on my desk, asking me, "Just what are you doing?"  I then got a lecture about not damaging other kids' papers, not messing up their work.  And didn't I have any respect for my classmates, that I would intentionally try to ruin their hard work?   Um... 

Being the shy kid that I was- and still am in many ways- I couldn't have said anything even if I had been allowed the chance.  Since that day ~27 years ago, I have gained *just* enough courage to speak up for myself if I need to defend my actions.  However, I still can't get the words out clearly or fast enough to explain.  I trip over my own tongue.  The other person doesn't have time to hear me out- or chooses not to listen.  The worst of my frustration comes from not having a chance to be heard.  To be listened to.  So please read this now as a courtesy to me- most of my actions do not have an undercurrent of destruction and mayhem for all those around me.  I am trying to help.  If it offends you, doesn't help, is out of line or anything else, let me know- but also give me a chance to defend myself. 

I think at this point in my life, I am going to try very hard not to help others.  To stop doing things or reminding people of their duties so that they don't get into trouble for dropping the ball.  I can get myself into trouble just fine all on my own, thank you very much.  I don't need to receive the blame that should have fallen on others.  So if you see me no longer trying to help others, no longer asking what I can do to be of service, know that I am trying to protect myself for a change.  It's selfish, sure.  And I imagine it'll be misunderstood as being lazy and not caring for others.  I'm going to try not to care.  I'm going to try to save some of my time and energy for my family.  And I am going to do my level-best to make sure that, though he makes mistakes, my son knows I will hear him out.  I will listen.  Listen until he is done explaining himself.  And I will try to teach him that the only one that can ever truly, fully and unfailingly listen to him is God. "...God, who knows the heart..." -Acts 15:8  And HE is the only one that truly matters. 

Christ is Coming

Christmas is a time to remember, for obvious reasons, that Jesus is coming.  His first appearance to this earth was as a helpless baby- how amazing that His second return will be with the power and glory that the first was lacking!  (It never ceases to amaze me how God often chooses the unexpected way of going about His will.)  However, so much will be changed for us on earth before that happens.  How gracious though that Jesus Himself gave us the warning signs and His entreaty to not be afraid.  He knows that the things that must happen between now and His return will be worrisome, scary and even downright terrifying.  So He gave us His hope- His peace- that we may not be afraid.  All things to come mean we are that much closer to going home.  Our final, permanent home.  How weary we feel after taking a vacation- yet, as we enter our home, a slight surge of energy commingled with relief settles within us.  It's the first deep breath drawn, the lightness of setting our bags down.  I wonder what that first breath taken in heaven, in the presence of my Lord and Savior, will feel like.  So much more than I can imagine, of that I'm certain, and completely fulfilling.  Lovely.  Perfect.  I look forward to breathing in the complete joy and full peace available only in heaven; created by God the Father, handed over by Jesus His Son, and flowing throughout as the Holy Spirit.  Don't let this Christmas season go by without appreciating fully the gift God has waiting for us in His presence.  And let's remember to thank Him for what we hope- and know- will come.

Romans 8:25
But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently. 

Revelation 11:17
We give thanks to you, Lord God Almighty,
the One who is and who was,
because you have taken your great power
and have begun to reign.

Hidden Things Revealed

Yesterday, we traveled to Roanoke to visit Elijah's Great-Grandma.  We are so incredibly blessed that he has a great-grandma, and that she is lucid and able-bodied.  It makes me wonder what Mary's mother felt towards baby Jesus.  A grandparent's pride most often runs deep- how much more so for the Son of God!  Did she feel she could offer Mary advice, or was she intimidated?  Or perhaps she held back at first, but later on- if the "novelty" of having Jesus as a grandson wore off- maybe she felt more able to speak up.  I don't know.  But I think lately, as I have struggled to feel a personal, intimate relationship with Jesus, I am going to think more on these things; Jesus' life, how his parents felt towards Him, what life may have been like while He was growing up and teaching for those around Him.  But all of this is getting off-track.  Back to your regularly scheduled blog-post! ;-)

As we were on our way to Roanoke yesterday, I noticed among the many trees the dozens, even hundreds, of birds' nests.  Obviously, most of them are there throughout the year.  And it's certainly easy enough to see a bird or fifty on a summer's day while outside.  Sometimes we even come across a bird's nest in our own yard.  Particularly in the eyes of a child, it is a treasure to behold.  It is very much a treasure, just as the blessings we receive everyday from God are treasures of infinite wealth.  These blessings are present everyday, in all sorts of places and situations.  However, they often go unnoticed.  They are there- sometimes literally right in front of our face- but we don't see them.  I think much of the time, we aren't meant to see them- they are to be revealed in the presence of God Himself in heaven.  But I also think that plenty are to be seen, if only we would truly, deeply look.  We may look with our eyes, yet still not see.  Maybe we need to retrain our minds, or better yet, our hearts, to see things more clearly.  To see them the way God wishes for us to see them, if only we would try a bit harder.

But sometimes we see these treasures when things are laid bare, as are the trees in the winter.  When life seems bare or hopeless, a treasure from God is revealed; to keep hope within sight, to remind us that not all is lost, and that blessings are everywhere, sometimes in the strangest of places.  And maybe they are seen best and clearest in the "winters" of life, when little else is visible.

Not Your Typical "Soccer Mom"

I wonder how Mary felt in the months leading up to Jesus' birth.  She was young by today's standards, but probably a typical age to begin having children in those days.  Women today have ultrasounds, "kick charts" and the like to let them know that their baby is well inside of them.  I'm curious to know if Mary worried about her baby in a normal motherly sense while He was inside, or if she knew He'd be safe since, after all, He was the Son of God.  Would God have sent an angel to tell Mary she would birth the Son of God, and then have her miscarry?  Did she worry about this possibility?  Or did she have such greater things to concern herself with that this did not even come into play?  How does one go about preparing to mother and raise the Son of God?  She found favor with the Lord, so obviously she lived a life that was pleasing enough to Him to choose her for this purpose.  But living a life for the Lord and raising His Son are two different things.  If pastors are held to a higher standard for their positions of helping us in our faith, then to what standard must Mary be held accountable?  Should I have given Jesus that time-out?  Oh, I shouldn't have yelled at Him for asking for the hundredth time when we'll arrive.  I shouldn't have scolded Him for staying behind at the Temple to talk to the rabbis, even though He gave me the fright of my life when I thought He was lost! 

Though Mary knew Jesus was God's Son, she still worried about Him.  Why?  Would not the Lord, Jesus' Father, take good care of Him?  I am sure that Mary was a far better mother than I am.  And I don't mean this to be a cop-out, but maybe mothers don't have to try to be perfect.  Mary wasn't, and God had chosen her to carry and raise His Son.  I am the type of person who gets discouraged easily, and can take a run of bad days of fighting with God's will for me as a "why do I even bother to try to obey Him" type of thing.  So maybe I need to create encouragement where I can find it.  But I do think that, given Mary was chosen by God yet was not perfect herself, we cannot be perfect here on earth.  We cannot obey God always- at least not without some level of "disagreement" with Him from time to time.  I'd love to be able to say of myself that I love God, have a very intimate prayer-life with Him and obey Him in all things while never doubting Him- but that would not be true.  I am weak, flawed, selfish, rebellious.  I need God, and the gift of His Son, so very much.  But He knows this.  He also knows how flawed I am, and that no matter how hard I try, I will not be perfect in my time on earth.  I thank Him for His patience with me, for working on and molding me, painful though it may be at times.  And when I get discouraged by life, by myself, I try to imagine how heaven will be.  Oh, it will be beautiful, no doubt- but what I look forward to is the day that I no longer worry.  I won't have to worry about my child or family and friends; my actions; if I have heard God correctly or if I am trying to make my will His own.  I try to remember that my best day on earth is still far worse than the "worst day" in heaven, if such a thing can exist.  And I hope that I will have a chance to speak to Mary, to find out answers to the questions I would ask her about how she felt raising the Son of God.  I want to know if she felt the peace of God wash over her every time she looked into the eyes of Jesus, her child, the Son of God.

Faith like a Child

Last night, Elijah told me, "I loved God first because I knew Him before I was even in your tummy."  How is it that children can say such simple, profound things?

"Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out;
      you formed me in my mother's womb.
   I thank you, High God—you're breathtaking!
      Body and soul, I am marvelously made!
      I worship in adoration—what a creation!
   You know me inside and out,
      you know every bone in my body;
   You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit,
      how I was sculpted from nothing into something.
   Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth;
      all the stages of my life were spread out before you,
   The days of my life all prepared
      before I'd even lived one day. "
~Psalm 139: 13-16 (The Message)

Praise God!