With You, Always

"I am with you always, even to the end of the age."

These are the last words of Jesus, recorded  in the gospel of Matthew, and they are words I cling to these days.   While traversing the  difficulties, sorrows,  anxiety, and challenges that have defined my life of late, I have prayed to fully absorb that.

He is with me.  Always.

I have prayed to fully understand it. To believe it. To live as if I am fully confident that it is true.  To know that I cannot fail when He is with me...that nothing can overwhelm,  defeat or overtake me.  Likewise, to know that I will ultimately be victorious as I abide in Him, and He in me-in every realm of this life~ 

In my home...my relationships...my work...my family...my marriage...my neighborhood...my church...my community and in my day to day life.  He is with me ALWAYS. In every trial. While  I cannot ascertain the purpose of these "brief and momentary" trials,  I do know that they are not random happenings in a life run amok.  I do not see the beginning to the end, but He does. Perhaps He is planning something new for me that I currently have no visibility of.  Hence, my only option is to trust that He sees all and knows all, and then  to leave it in His hands, believing He walks with me.

Right beside me. ALWAYS.

Help me Lord, to stay on the path, even when it is treacherous and dark and scary...when things go from bad to worse, remind me that You are the captain of this ship and that shipwreck is not in Your plan.  Though I am laid low, You are still on high. Though the storms rage and the waves crash and though I am truly humbled by my affliction,  you don't leave me forlorn and alone.  You are with me, ALWAYS. 

Help us Lord, to know this. To really KNOW it.  Show us Your power and Your glory.  Heal the sick. Mend the broken. Feed the hungry.  Visit the lonely. Comfort the grieving. Give rest to the weary.  Be merciful to the unrepentant. Be kindness to the harsh, forgiveness to the failed.  Be a guide to those who are lost and a protector to the careless.  Give  clarity to the confused and peace to the tormented.  Thank you Lord that you are all these things and that you are with us. 

ALWAYS.

RipTide

The writer has been largely silent. Paralyzed, and unseen. Uncharacteristically in the shadows. 


From the outside in, all seems "normal.' I get up, drink coffee and make smoothies most mornings.  I go to work and I come home. I open mail and I make dinner.  The husband and I eat together and talk about the day. I water my garden and I do my shopping.  I've mostly returned to my routines, such as they were before.  Life appears largely uninterrupted.


But, as we know, appearances can be deceiving.  Yes, despite the smooth, glassy surface, there is a persistent current, deep, alarming and invisible,  kind of tugging at my feet.  Throughout  my day, it tries to pulls me down and I fight to stay afloat. Silently, surreptitiously it grabs at me,  threatening to suck me under. When I least expect it, the dreaded sense of  danger and momentary  panic surfaces. I quickly push it under, but it lurks nearby, never far from my mind. 


I drive home from work and as I transition from one freeway to another, I am  reminded, this is where I would command my phone to "call Mom".  It was this stretch of my trip home after a day's work,  where I would call her to check in and see what her day had held.  The calls are over. 


In the formerly simple act  of opening of mail lurks the threat of the unknown.  This, too, can pull me under, as much of it is hers.  "A third party" (who? how?) has advised us of the death of...". Six weeks later, the occasional card from a loving friend arrives, sending condolences and some with sweet remembrances.  A call from my Aunt Marguerite, marking the four year anniversary of my Dad's death. A  handwritten note from my Aunt Wilma, reminiscing about days gone by and her love and appreciation of my parents and now me. Sweet, precious expressions of love. But the piles of paperwork, legal issues to be attended to, decisions to be made and an estate to be distributed all weigh me down like a smothering blanket in the desert. Moments of sheer panic well up in my chest. 


As I write, tears roll down my face.  Daily they hover in my eyes, ready to roll, but mostly contained. 


There is sorrow and there is also joy.  The kindness of friends and loved ones have been an enormous comfort and encouragement. A church who has prayed for and with us...the generosity and the remembrances and the memories, they are all priceless jewels in my heart. Simple kindnesses are now the fuel that remind me that there is hope and there is good and there is still much life to be lived. Grief is a road that allows no shortcuts.  I have no doubt that I will travel it for awhile and that the traveling of it will make the roads beyond that much sweeter.  

Loss is a precious reminder to treasure what remains. And, there is much that remains. I am grateful. 

Walking through the valley of the shadow of death...

Loss. Sorrow. Grief. In the last week or so, there have been numerous implosions of sadness around me. A high school friend sat at the bedside of her dying daughter who was buried today. A long time friend said goodbye to her father for the last time. Another friend, in Oregon, received a call this week notifying him that his mother had suddenly passed following a hip fracture. At this moment, my oldest and dearest friend's father lies in a hospital in Ohio, demanding to go home. When he does, hospice workers will accompany him in order to provide comfort measures for however much time he has left. I have two dear friends awaiting test results, knowing well the results could bring their worst fears or their greatest hopes. Another friend suffers a different kind of loss. The failure of hope, because someone she loves has disappointed her, again. Sadness comes in all shapes and sizes. One size does not fit all.

We cling so tightly to this life. Most likely when mine comes to an end, I too, will struggle to hold on in order to stay just a little bit longer. We have lives we love, people we don't want to leave behind. I am no exception, but, I do believe, in my heart of hearts, that when I have crossed over to my heavenly home, all the concerns that made me want to stay--the unfinished business, the hopes not yet realized, the goals not achieved, they will all pale in comparison to what I will know there as I sit at the feet of Jesus. We who walk this earth hold so tightly to dreams we want to see fulfilled. A child grown into a man. An education completed. A baby born. A wedding ceremony performed. A family at peace. These are the dreams we live for. They are worthy pursuits and when realized may bring unspeakable happiness. But they are imperfect dreams, and we who travel this planet, cannot conceive of dreams more precious, dreams more exquisite; dreams of heaven, perfect dreams realized.

When my own father was dying in a hospital, I, long before my siblings and my mother were able to acknowledge it, knew that the end was most assuredly near. I knew too much. It's not that sorrow didn't apply to me. It surely rocked my heart to the core. But, I didn't ask why. I know that the same God who gives, takes away. I know that there's never a good or right time. I acknowledge that it's easier to let go when a life has been long and well lived and more difficult when it's early- in what we see as an unfinished life. Still. I cling to the belief that life here is not life in it's entirety. There is more. I believe that as surely as I believe the sun will rise and fall everyday. I honestly don't believe anyone who has prepared for eternity by accepting Jesus' gift of salvation, has ever arrived in heaven and wanted to come back to this life. Heaven is richer, more beautiful and more joyous than our finite minds can grasp. One does not move from the ghetto to the palace and then ask to return the utter poverty they were rescued from.

The greatest sadness for me is not the loss of one's presence here on earth. That, because, I believe there is a life beyond. The greater sorrow is if that one has not prepared for the life beyond earth's borders. One's eternal destiny is the most important goal of all and one that requires our attention now, while we still have time to determine where we will spend it. A life lived only for pleasure and temporal things is a life ignorant of true meaning, a life cut short too soon, whether 16 or 96 years long. To share that truth with those who don't know, is a sacred and critical responsibility. The gift of God is eternal life, available to all who will believe. As one who has gratefully received that gift, I am responsible to share it with others as the Lord provides opportunity.

If you, dear reader, long to know what it is that gives me this hope--the hope that takes away death's sting, I long to share it with you. I cannot tell you you will not face sorrow. I cannot promise that. I still cry bitter tears. I still have a dread of life without those I love most. I still pray for healing and reconciliation and the end of pain. But, in the end, I know. I know that one day, on the other side, the pain will end, the tears will be wiped away and death will be no more. Because Jesus said so. And I believe it.

I do love this life I've been given. I truly do. I am blessed beyond anything I ever imagined. But, when my time comes, don't grieve for me. Don't call me back. I'll wait for you. Be there.

Gratitude: What's all the fuss about?

Decades ago, under the teaching of my Pastor, Zac, I was fortunate to learn the incalculable importance of having an attitude of gratitude. Since that time, it has become a core value in my life and in my daily walk through this world.

Clothed with a sense of gratitude, versus a sense of entitlement, I have come to recognize that without the foundation of thankfulness, I am doomed to the "then I'll be happy" syndrome... when I am out of school, when I can get back to school; when I am healthy, when I have more money, when I am through this trying situation, when I am married or when I am out of this marriage; when I get a new job or when I can stop working; when I have a child or when my children are grown; when I have a better place to live, when I have that new car, or position, or notoriety. You get the picture.

I sincerely believe, that until you grasp what it is to be thankful, you will most likely not experience what it is to be happy. Author, Speaker and Radio Host Dennis Prager first made me consider this in his book, "Happiness is a Serious Problem". His premise is that happy people make a better world and that gratitude is foundational to happiness. I concur. But, I think that gratitude is the more serious problem, not happiness. Grateful people are inherently happy people- pure and simple. If you aren't happy, you most likely don't recognize how much you have to be grateful for. There. I've said it. Sorry if you are offended, but, I stand firm in my conviction. If you don't believe me, ask Corrie Ten Boom or Joni Eareckson Tada or Viktor Frankl , all well known individuals who have suffered more than most of us will ever be called to. Ask my friend Tran, whose son was killed while stopping at the side of the road to help a stranded motorist or, Christianne who will likely spend the remaineder of this life in a wheelchair. Consider my cousins, Dona and Gene, who lost both their mom and their brother in tragic circumstances. Then, there's Cheryl, who lives with pain everyday of her life and my friend Pat, whose sweet Dad suffers from Alzheimer's Disease. Let's not even think of overlooking the the legions of people who have been deeply wounded by either family or friends they believed would never fail them.

Each of these I've mentioned are examples of the joy that comes from acknowledging a God who loves them and believing that He is in control...a God who gave all so that our failures could be forgiven. A God who promises "a future and a hope" (Jeremiah 29:11). That same God who urges us to "enter into His gates with Thanksgiving" and, in all things to "give thanks". These folks are real people who, in the midst of their suffering, choose to live their lives with an attitude of gratitude.

We are all wounded soldiers, aren't we? Some in our bodies, some in our spirits, but, we've all suffered pain and sorrow. Many of us have fallen short of what we hoped to become. All of us have known the disappointments of life. Some of us live with physical pain, others with emotional scars.

Too many of us believe that if the stars would just get aligned correctly, we would be better off. We would bask in the warmth of true contentment. Further, we're pretty sure that, we are just a slight shift in the universe away from being happy. The truth is that if we could truly grasp the wonderful truth that there is a God in Heaven, Who, by the way, really does have it all under control, we could then surrender our frustration, our anger, our disappointment and our fears. We would acknowledge that while we cannot see the future, He can. We could then focus on the good, in this moment. We could rest in the arms of a God we know has promised to work it all for our good. (Romans 8:28) Truth is, happiness is impossible without gratitude. From gratitude springs the ability to recognize that there is much to appreciate in the here and now.

May I challenge you, dear readers, to take on a practice I undertook may years ago?

It's so simple. You can do it. Begin and end each day with an attitude of gratitude.

That's it. Simple, right? There are many ways to make it happen.

For me, it means writing down and/or speaking to God the many things I am thankful for, in that moment, for that day. It may take some practice, but, I promise, it is a learned skill that get's easier with repetition. Yesterday, as I was anxiously anticipating oral surgery, I paused to thank God. Yes, I really did. I thanked him for the ability to have the surgery done, for a good periodontist to do the procedure, for his kind staff to set me at ease, for the funds to pay for the procedure and finally, for the many dear ones who had encouraged and prayed for me. As I gave thanks to the God who provided it all, I was filled peace and calm as I headed off to my appointment.

Gratitude. It's what's for breakfast...and lunch... and dinner. Then, you'll be happy!

Moments forever lost...

In everything, give thanks. Not for everything, but, in everything. I am challenged by that scripture today. It's hard to give thanks when you don't understand, and, frankly, I don't. I struggle with the knowledge that someone you love so much can create so much heartache by their willful absence, shutting out those who love them. I struggle with the knowledge that outsiders unknowingly add to the sorrow by buying into one side of it without assuming the best intentions from the other. I refuse to speak poorly of one who speaks poorly of me. I will not. Instead, I choose to entrust myself to the One who judges all things rightly, knowing that He will work it all for my good, in His time. I still believe that. But, today there were tears for moments forever lost. Tomorrow I will stand in hope again. But today, for a few minutes, a wave of sorrow engulfed me.

His mercies are new every morning. I am grateful.