Tag: comfort

Fuzzy Socks

Every year at about this time, people come up with lists of “Things For Which I Am Thankful.” Some lists are elaborate. Some are short. Some are earnest; others are tongue-in-cheek– “Thanks for nothing.”

A few years back, one of my former students started posting on Facebook about her “thanks” list. She started on November first and listed one thing for every day of the month. I liked the idea, so I began doing the same. I’ve done it for a few years now. It’s not really difficult to find things to be thankful for– but it can be frustrating trying to come up with 30 different things that don’t end up overlapping or repeating. I could list individual family members on different days, but if I’ve already listed “Family” or “Grandkids” (as I did this year), it seems repetitive to list them separately. Also, what if I list some family members and leave others out? Won’t someone be hurt?

I began to realize, as well, that posting every day can become somewhat self-indulgent. What about those who are alone in the world? My rhapsodizing about family, good food, good health– isn’t that really just a subtle way of bragging about my blessings? The real goal of Thanksgiving shouldn’t be about WHAT, but about WHO? WHO is the source of all these blessings? WHO deserves to be thanked for any of the wonderful people, things, and situations in my life?

In the middle of all this second-guessing and self-righteous reflection one year, I was suddenly struck with a strange and ridiculous thought. I am really thankful for fuzzy socks! I used to run around barefoot every chance I got. But in the past few years, I’ve developed neuropathy in my feet from diabetes. My feet are often numb and cold. They aren’t so painful that I can’t walk, but sometimes the least little thing on the rug or floor can suddenly feel painful to my bare feet. Fuzzy socks are a treasure to me. They keep my feet warm, and cushion against some of the tiny antagonists– the pile of the carpet, the mote of dust on the floor, or the early morning temperature of the bathroom tile.

And it hit me. Thanksgiving is not just about the “important” things in life– though it’s wonderful to take the time to evaluate how much God has given me, and how many “big” things I often take for granted. But Thanksgiving is also about the little things– like fuzzy socks– that touch our lives. God cares about my neuropathy. He cares about my likes and dislikes, my comforts and my aches and pains.

And Thanksgiving is not just about “fun” or “pleasant” things. I am thankful for the times when God has disciplined me; when I have had to struggle to find the answers, when I have had to ask for help. I am thankful that God is with me in every situation. I am grateful to remember how much He REALLY cares about me. And in remembering all this, I want to share with as many people as I can reach how truly thank-full we ALL can be for the Love, Mercy, and Grace that is showered on us by God every day. Even when we are not aware; even when it involves something as simple as “fuzzy socks.”

So, I still post about 30 things every November. I discuss my thankfulness for family and friends, for vision and mobility, for a roof over my head, and for transportation, and the freedom to come and go. I list “Godly” things like prayer and my Bible or my Church. But I also list “fuzzy socks.” And pizza, and crossword puzzles, bird song, snowflakes, and books. Such things truly make me grateful.

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“Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep…”

When I was still a young child, and a new believer in Christ, I learned this bedtime prayer:


“Now I lay me down to sleep.
I pray the LORD my soul to keep.
If I should die before I wake;
I pray the LORD my soul to take.”

I didn’t use this bedtime prayer every night; my parents taught me to say more personal prayers, whether at bedtime or throughout the day. In fact, I found this prayer to be somewhat morbid– praying about death before lying down for sleep. Still, it was an easy prayer to learn, with its rhyme scheme and easy rhythm.

As an adult, I look at this prayer from a very different perspective. I learned it from books, which had included it from revisions of earlier books, including old Mother Goose rhymes. The prayer (or a version of it) dates back to the 17th century https://www.dailyeffectiveprayer.org/now-i-lay-me-down-to-sleep-prayer/, and I imagine the thought of dying in the night was far more persistent than it is now for most children. This prayer offered comfort, not just about one’s own death, but the sudden death of a baby brother or sister, or the death of a neighbor, or one’s parent. Death, which often came in the night, was not to be feared, because God was bigger than both the night and the grave.

But as a adult, I also appreciate the simple trust that is expressed in such a short prayer. I often find myself at night fretting and praying about details and issues that I have tried to rationalize or “fix” in my own power. This prayer puts things in perspective– I pray the LORD my soul to keep. Basically, I lay everything, including my very soul, into God’s hands. Thus, I CAN “lay me down to sleep,” rather than stay up reciting a litany of little worries about which I can do nothing, or have already done what I could.

“If I should die before I wake…” The older I get, the more this line resonates. Not that I believe I am at death’s door, or anything, but death is less of a “monster under the bed” sort of concept than it was as a child. Death is a reality, and yet I can trust God to “take” my soul, snatching it out of the grave and raising me to eternal life with Him. Not because I know better than I did as a five-year-old, or because I have done “good” things over the past half-century and more– but because God said so in His Word, and I can trust Him to do what He says. Just like I learned to do when I was five!

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Anywhere…

Anywhere! Anywhere!
Fear I cannot know;
Anywhere with Jesus I can safely go!

I was reading in the Psalms the other day, and I fell on one of my favorites, Psalm 139:

 O Lord, you have searched me and known me!
2 You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
    you discern my thoughts from afar.
3 You search out my path and my lying down
    and are acquainted with all my ways.
4 Even before a word is on my tongue,
    behold, O Lord, you know it altogether.
5 You hem me in, behind and before,
    and lay your hand upon me.
6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
    it is high; I cannot attain it.

7 Where shall I go from your Spirit?
    Or where shall I flee from your presence?
8 If I ascend to heaven, you are there!
    If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!
9 If I take the wings of the morning
    and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
10 even there your hand shall lead me,
    and your right hand shall hold me.
11 If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me,
    and the light about me be night,”
12 even the darkness is not dark to you;
    the night is bright as the day,
    for darkness is as light with you.

Psalm 139: 1-12 (ESV)

This portion of the Psalm speaks of God’s Omnipresence. But often, when I read it, I read it from a negative viewpoint. It speaks of hiding from the Lord…it is impossible to escape the Lord’s presence and His omnipotence. I cannot hide my thoughts or deeds or feelings from God’s all-seeing, all-knowing presence. And this is a good thing in the end. But what about when I am not trying to escape from God, but some other threat– guilt, pain, heartbreak, or even death?

God’s omnipresence is also a metaphysical reality in a very positive sense. I cannot stray outside of God’s presence. He will not remove it from me; He will not hide from me. He will never send me into ANY situation where He is NOT already there, and where He will NOT be with me.

I know this. But I needed a reminder today. God will be with me on my best days, and on my worst. He will be with me in sickness or depression, or celebration and strength. He will be with me whether I am “alone” or surrounded by strangers. He will be with me in the darkness where I can’t see anything, as well as in the blinding bright lights of an operating room, or the eerie haze of a foggy morning.

Wherever I am, God is figuratively holding my hand; He is hemming me in all around. I am protected and supported by His Almighty Right Hand. When I am tempted to doubt– He is there! When I am distracted by the din of other voices– He is there! When I have turned my back on Him– He is STILL there; waiting for me to turn back!

I don’t know where I will have to go today. It may be to the grocery store; it may be halfway across the world…I may be called to do unexpected things, to go in an unexpected direction, to turn a frightening corner or face an unknown foe. But I can go anywhere with confidence– not in MY wisdom or abilities or strength– God is WITH me. God goes BEFORE me and BEHIND me. God is OVER me and UNDER me, and all AROUND me.

Recently, there was a news story about a submarine with passengers who were going to visit the wreck of the Titanic. Tragically, the submarine failed and their lives were lost. Just like the passengers over 100 years earlier, they were far from any human help. But God was there. I don’t know if any of the passengers were believers, but if they were, they could face their last earthly hours in confidence and peace that passes human understanding– God was there. Even though their bodies were not saved from this tragedy, their spirits were never out of God’s reach; their hearts were never lost to God’s loving gaze.

May we rest in that assurance today. There is no place on Earth– or in or over or under the Earth!– where God does not watch over us. The going may not be pleasant. It may be dangerous or even deadly. But we– our soul; our spirit– can go anywhere without fear. We can face the transition from life to death with calm assurance. We can face the empty threats of Death and the Grave without flinching. We can face our fears, and defeat them, when we trust that God’s presence in constant and completely sufficient.

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Comfort or Courage?

My husband and I recently sat in the comfort of our apartment, and watched the movie trilogy of The Lord of the Rings. I’ve read the books several times, and enjoyed the movie several times, as well. The story is a classic tale of good v. evil, where it looks almost impossible for good to triumph. But, through the courageous acts of a few unlikely heroes (with the help of many others), evil is destroyed at last, and peace–eventually– returns to Middle Earth. It is one of my favorite stories, but it is not always “comfortable.”

The books and movies can be almost torture to watch, sometimes. There are battles, and betrayals, tragedies, and frustrations galore. From the midges that attack the party near the beginning of their journey, to the Ring Wraiths who relentlessly haunt Frodo as he carries the ring of power to its final end; from the unnatural armies of the Uruk-Hai, created by the betrayer Saruman, to the betrayal of Boromir from within their own fellowship; from the fall of Gandalf in the mines of Moria to the madness of Denethor in Gondor–there are plenty of times that the reader/viewer is tempted to turn away from such agony and despair. How could there be a “happy” ending? How could Frodo and Sam possibly survive long enough to finish the task, let alone return from it?

And yet, Sam himself provides an answer:

Yes, that’s so,’ said Sam. ‘And we shouldn’t be here at all, if we’d known more about it before we started. But I suppose it’s often that way. The brave things in the old tales and songs, Mr. Frodo: adventures, as I used to call them. I used to think that they were things the wonderful folk of the stories went out and looked for, because they wanted them, because they were exciting and life was a bit dull, a kind of a sport, as you might say. But that’s not the way of it with the tales that really mattered, or the ones that stay in the mind. Folk seem to have been just landed in them, usually – their paths were laid that way, as you put it. But I expect they had lots of chances, like us, of turning back, only they didn’t. And if they had, we shouldn’t know, because they’d have been forgotten. We hear about those as just went on – and not all to a good end, mind you; at least not to what folk inside a story and not outside it call a good end. You know, coming home, and finding things all right, though not quite the same – like old Mr Bilbo. But those aren’t always the best tales to hear, though they may be the best tales to get landed in! I wonder what sort of a tale we’ve fallen into?’ ‘I wonder,’ said Frodo. ‘But I don’t know. And that’s the way of a real tale. Take any one that you’re fond of. You may know, or guess, what kind of a tale it is, happy-ending or sad-ending, but the people in it don’t know. And you don’t want them to.’
https://thetolkien.forum/wiki/Sams-Speech

Movie version:

Often, when I am facing “an adventure,” I am praying for God to take away the circumstances; to change the world around me, so I can be comfortable. I love to read stories, but I don’t want to live through what it might take to make a great one! And yet, God calls us to “be strong and courageous” (Joshua 1:9). Jesus calls us to be courageous as well, “In the world you have tribulation, but take courage; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33b). And Paul reminds his protege, Timothy, that “God has not given us a spirit of timidity, but of power and love and discipline.” (2 Timothy 1:7)

Source: https://bible.knowing-jesus.com/topics/Courage

In the movie version of Lord of the Rings, the four courageous hobbits return to the Shire after all the fighting to find things almost exactly as they had left them– hobbits comfortably going about their business, oblivious to the grand and terrible adventures of their neighbors and the rest of the world. Hobbits, we are told early on, do not concern themselves with the “adventures” of the wider world. They like comfort. And the Shire, in some ways, represents a haven from the evils of the world of men and orcs and other creatures. In the books, however, evil spills over into the Shire, and the hobbits must face battles even when they expect to return to comfort.

Comfort is a wonderful feeling– ease and peace, no reason to worry or fret. Everything is familiar and good, expected, and desired. But comfort doesn’t build character. Courage does. Frodo and Sam, Merry and Pippin, all return to the Shire changed by their adventures. They are no longer “comfortable” living in ignorance of the wider world, no longer afraid of what might happen if they step beyond the borders of the Shire.

The same is true for us as Christ followers. Jesus commands us to Go into all the world. He does not promise comfort, in fact, He promises that we WILL have trouble. But He also promises that we will not face danger alone; and that we will see victory– His final victory. We DO know the end of the story! We do not know what tomorrow may bring, but we DO know that it won’t end in futility. Even our disasters will be redeemed! Even if tomorrow brings tragedy, grief, pain, or torture, we know it is not the way our story ends. But we must face tomorrow with courage. We must continue on THROUGH the story, even when it looks like we can’t go on. Courage, not comfort, will lead us to the victory.

Today, I pray that God will forgive me for the times I have asked for comfort and not for courage. For the times I have stayed in the Shire, instead of going forth to face the battles beyond. For the times I have been too afraid, or just too lazy, to obey His call to GO and be a light in this dark world.

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It’s Not Enough!

Often, when there is a disaster– especially one that seems preventable and senseless, like a mass shooting or a horrible crash–thousands of people reach out with “thoughts and prayers” for the victims and their families. And, predictably, others will angrily comment that thoughts and prayers are “not enough.” What good are thoughts and prayers in the face of senseless violence or preventable dangers? Shouldn’t we be driven to action? Shouldn’t we focus our efforts on justice or working to guarantee that such disasters can never happen again?

Such anger is natural, and such sentiments may seem more virtuous than offering nebulous emotional support. What, after all, can thoughts and prayers really DO in the face of evil, injustice, pain, and grief?

Well, I can’t speak for “thoughts”, but I have studied prayer for most of my life. I would offer the following words about the effects of prayer:

  • First, prayer reminds me that I am NOT in control of my circumstances– only my reaction to them. I cannot control what happens, what HAS happened, or what WILL happen. And my anger will not change what has already happened, nor will it prevent future disasters from happening. And while I may not be able to prove to others that prayer CAN prevent future disasters or heal present grief, I have known it to do both in my life and in the lives of others.
  • Second, prayer reminds me that there is Someone Bigger than me– Someone Bigger than my circumstances– who has the wisdom and the power to do what even thousands of well-meaning people cannot. Thousands of people coming together can make a difference over time, but God can do miraculously more than we can imagine!
  • Third, praying for others is something I CAN DO— anywhere, anytime– across distances, cultures, time zones, and circumstances. Prayer doesn’t cost anything. It doesn’t require that I have specialized skills or access to physical resources. It may not seem very active, like ranting or screaming, marching or protesting, but it isn’t the same as inaction or apathy.
  • Lastly, praying for others is a first step in helping others. My prayer alone may not seem like “enough”, but prayers have a way of multiplying, and inspiring, and intensifying in positive and impactful ways.

But more than just talking about the effectiveness of prayer, I’d like to pose a couple of questions for those who dismiss prayer as “not enough.”

  • What are you offering (instead of prayers)? Will your thoughts, plans, and actions have immediate or eternal results? Do you have the solution to all the world’s problems? Will you be able to control what happens in the future, or make sense of what has happened in the past? Will your solutions be perfect– no unintended consequences or necessary casualties?
  • If you are so angry about others praying, why waste your energy complaining about it? Go ahead with your own solution/reaction/plan.
  • Is your solution “enough?” Is your anger “enough?” Are your good intentions “enough?” Ultimately, you must wrestle with the existence of evil and injustice in this world. Senseless things happen. Good people suffer, and guilty people enjoy “success.” And nothing we offer is ever “enough” to change the world around us.

Our efforts and actions will never be “enough.” But prayer taps into the reality that God IS ENOUGH. His Grace is sufficient; His Love endures forever; His wisdom is higher than ours, and His power is boundless. He doesn’t always remove us from the chaos and suffering of this world, but He redeems us, and He enters into the circumstances of our own suffering and grief. He gives us courage, strength, hope, and a sense of purpose that goes beyond what we can find in ourselves.

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The Silence of God

I am just finishing the book of Job in my daily Bible studies. Job is an interesting book. It begins with a discussion between God and Satan, in which God seems to “set up” Job. God points out Job and his righteous life. Satan (The Accuser) fires back that Job is only enjoying God’s favor; that, given hardship and pain, Job will turn his back on God and embrace evil. God allows Satan to ruin Job’s life– taking away his property, his status, and even all his children. (Ironically, Satan doesn’t cause any harm to Job’s wife, who acts as “devil’s advocate” later, telling her husband to “Curse God and die!”)

Job passes the first test. Satan asks for a “second chance,” saying that Job is still enjoying God’s physical protection. So God allows Satan to cause a painful, wasting disease to attack Job.

But the narrative shifts dramatically at this point. The next several chapters focus on Job’s confusion; his suffering; his bitter quest for answers to the age-old question– Why does God allow bad things to happen to good people? Job’s friends, who start out sharing his sorrow, end up being of very little help and no comfort at all. They insist that God wouldn’t– couldn’t– allow bad things to happen to an innocent man. Therefore, they conclude that Job “deserves” his pain and misfortune. Job insists that God is Righteous, but he wants God to answer his questions– WHY? WHY ME? WHY THIS? WHAT HAVE I DONE TO DESERVE THIS?

And God is silent. Through several rounds of discussion and argument, God is nowhere to be found or heard. Job’s complaints and questions anger his friends, but God remains silent and seemingly unmoved. The central question is not so much about God’s righteousness, but about His Goodness. Is God Good? Can a loving God allow people to suffer– especially if it is unjust– and still be called “Good”?

Reading through the book of Job, we are aroused to the same kind of anger that Job expresses. There are times when I have questions; times when I am suffering; times when I just don’t understand– “What have I done to deserve this?”

And yet.

The Bible is full of “and yet” moments. God finally speaks, but He never answers Job’s questions directly. Job did nothing to “deserve” his suffering. And yet, God allows him to be tested, tormented, and stretched to his breaking point. Not because Job has done something wrong, but because he has been faithful! God never answers Job’s complaints– and yet, God does not leave Job without any answer. In fact, God restores Job’s fortunes and gives him more children, so that his final condition is even better than before! God justifies Job in front of his friends, restoring his status, as well. Job complains about not having a mediator to defend him before the Almighty. And yet, Job trusts that such a mediator– such a redeemer– exists. He cannot see Jesus– and yet He puts his faith in the promise of His coming!

The book of Job ends with Job praising God–BEFORE his restoration– acknowledging that God is not just Good, but that He is Great! He is Great beyond our understanding. He is Holy, and His ways are higher and greater than our ways. Job’s suffering, while painful and undeserved, allowed him to understand God in a new and deeply personal way. God allowed Job to be crushed but not destroyed; tested, but not terminated. God was silent, but never absent.

In fact, the one character who is conspicuously absent at the end of the story is Satan! He has “lost” his challenge to make Job repudiate his right living and his love of God. He has been given two chances to strike at the authority and character of God– and he has left the battlefield in contempt and defeat. He has caused Job pain and suffering, but he has not caused Job to quit.

Job’s questions throughout the book which bears his name are really prayers. He is talking about God, and talking TO God, even as he addresses his friends. He is bitter and angry and confused– AND YET– he prays!

May that be said of me today, as I face questions, trials, and suffering. I can “Take it to the Lord in Prayer.” Not just when things are going well, and I am praising God, but when life seems bitter and I am questioning God’s justice. He IS Sovereign. He IS Good. He IS listening. He DOES Love me.

I Know That God Lives

13-20 “God alienated my family from me;
    everyone who knows me avoids me.
My relatives and friends have all left;
    houseguests forget I ever existed.
The servant girls treat me like a deadbeat off the street,
    look at me like they’ve never seen me before.
I call my attendant and he ignores me,
    ignores me even though I plead with him.
My wife can’t stand to be around me anymore.
    I’m repulsive to my family.
Even street urchins despise me;
    when I come out, they taunt and jeer.
Everyone I’ve ever been close to abhors me;
    my dearest loved ones reject me.
I’m nothing but a bag of bones;
    my life hangs by a thread.
21-22 “Oh, friends, dear friends, take pity on me.
    God has come down hard on me!
Do you have to be hard on me, too?
    Don’t you ever tire of abusing me?
23-27 “If only my words were written in a book—
    better yet, chiseled in stone!
Still, I know that God lives—the One who gives me back my life—
    and eventually he’ll take his stand on earth.
And I’ll see him—even though I get skinned alive!—
    see God myself, with my very own eyes.
    Oh, how I long for that day! (Job 19:13-27 The Message)

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Surprise!

Have you ever been the “victim” of a surprise party?  Maybe you sensed that something was “up”, but you were still shocked and elated to see old friends or family all wanting to wish you well on (or near) your birthday, anniversary, wedding, retirement, or even “just because”.  Even if you “catch on” or if someone “spoils” the surprise, it can be a wonderful celebration.  (Or, on occasion, a disaster.)

pexels-photo-764340.jpeg

Have you ever been on the planning side of a surprise party?  Several years ago, we threw a surprise birthday/retirement party for my father.  It required several months of planning.  We invited cousins from out of town, co-workers, neighbors, and old friends.  We gathered old pictures and mementos to display, ordered cake and balloons, and tried to keep the excitement under wraps, lest my father guess our intentions.  All the details fell together, except we couldn’t figure out how to get him to the party without guessing.  Dad was a genius at “sussing out” secrets and surprises, and also at setting them up.  We wanted to turn the tables and give him the best surprise of his life.

Then, less than a week before the party, my aunt (my mom’s sister) died in a car accident.  The funeral was arranged for the same day as Dad’s celebration.  We suddenly had to wrestle with a decision– to cancel or to forge ahead.  With so many coming from out of town, we decided to stick with the original plan.  It would be difficult– my aunt’s funeral was scheduled earlier in the day, and there would be about an hour to drive from one event to the other.  Dad was certainly surprised–already dressed in his best suit, he drove from a funeral in one town to a party in his honor 20 miles away.  From flowers and tears to laughter and cake…it was a day unlike any other.  The first several minutes were surreal and jarring.  But it was also cathartic.  As difficult as the day was, we honored both my father and my aunt.  Being surrounded by family and friends, some of whom joined us for both events, became a healing and encouraging experience.
It was not the surprise we expected–certainly not the surprise we had planned.

chocolate cupcake with white and red toppings

Several years later, (in fact, after my father had passed away) we planned another surprise party– this time for my mother.  Mom had, of course, been part of the planning (as well as the trauma) of the first event.  As with the first party, we invited family from out of town, ordered cake and balloons, gathered photos and memorabilia, and wondered how to get her to the event without suspicion.  All went as planned, and we had a wonderful time.  Mom was delightfully surprised, and even more so for having been through the experience of the prior party.

What does any of this have to do with prayer?
Well…we prayed for both parties.  We prayed that all would go well, that Dad and Mom in their turn would be surprised, that guests would arrive safely, and that the parties would both please and honor the recipient. God answered both prayers. His ways are not our ways– but He is eternally good. He gave us strength for each day in its turn, in the midst of surprises– pleasant, painful, and both together!

But, far more, the two parties offer an illustration of God’s grace in the area of knowledge and foreknowledge.  “If I had only known…” is a common phrase, and one that we could readily apply to the Dad’s party.  But if we had known the end from the beginning, would we have changed our plans?  When we say that we want to know the future, we’re generally asking to know a specific outcome of a specific event– without considering the greater consequences and impact of that outcome.  When we pray, we generally pray for a specific outcome, again without knowing the full consequences.  What seems like a disastrous outcome to us may be God’s way of preparing us for an unexpected blessing.  God doesn’t send bad gifts– disasters come (and God allows them in His sovereignty)–but He doesn’t send disaster and pain to mock us or ruin our lives.  Instead, in the midst of tragedy, He gives us unexpected strength, comfort, and sometimes, even joy.

pexels-photo-145378.jpeg

If we had known that Dad’s party would be shadowed; that my aunt would die so suddenly, we might have given in to despair and bitterness.  And though the party brought unexpected comfort, it did nothing to erase the overall grief of my aunt’s passing.  But we learned so many things that day.  We were reminded that our time with Dad was precious– that life itself is precious– in a solemn and powerful way.  We were able to receive comfort from unexpected sources.  We would not have shared our tragedy in such a public way with those who did not even know my aunt.  But circumstances forced us to do so, and in the process, we were able to continue to honor her in the celebration.

If we had known all that would happen at Dad’s party, and not seen it through, we might never have risked planning a party for Mom.  If we knew in advance all the joys and tragedies we would face, we would never learn how to trust God for the next step in life.  Even more, we would live in constant dread of looming tragedies and negate all the joy of discovery and wonder.  We might not be driven to take risks if we already knew their outcome, and we might not learn from our mistakes if we already knew their consequences…and because our lives are so short, we might only see the short-term consequences, and never see the ultimate outcome.

abstract art astronomy background

God is above and beyond time– He is the creator of all things, including time.  He has decreed for us a beginning and an end to life on earth, and He has decreed that we should life our lives with a certain amount of suspense– of not knowing what the future holds.  It holds both triumph and tragedy– trial and temptation.  Life is filled with surprises– catastrophes, ecstatic joy, and “a-ha” moments–as well as peacefully uneventful moments to reflect and enjoy.

As we pray today, we can be thankful that God’s knowledge is perfect, and that His power is sufficient to hold us in the midst of shock, lift us in the midst of tragedy, and surprise us with joy along the way.  And we can ask Him to grant us the wisdom to trust Him fully when we don’t see the end from the beginning– or from the middle–of the storm.

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Close to the Broken Hearted

As I write this, I am keenly aware that one year ago, I was at a graveside, saying farewell to my mother. Grieving comes in waves. I rejoice that she is in heaven, and I rejoice that she had a good, long life, and that she didn’t suffer very long at the end. But there is still an ache– wanting to share a memory or a laugh and knowing she isn’t here; questions I didn’t know I had, but now she can’t answer them; just missing her voice and her smile. My father has been gone for 25 years, and the same ache still hits at odd moments.

Sometimes, grieving brings us closer to God. At other times, we can let our grief drive us away from God. But God doesn’t move. He is ever-present. And He reminds us that He is “close to the broken hearted” (Psalm 34:18). When we are grieving, that is a blessed reminder. Grief tends to isolate us. “No one understands…” “Laugh, and the whole world laughs with you; cry, and you cry alone.” We see the “rest of the world” enjoying life, seemingly untouched by sorrow, and we feel abandoned twice over.

As Christians, we are called to follow Jesus’ example, and be close to the broken hearted. We should be the ones ready with a hug, a listening ear, and a shoulder to cry on. We should be the ones who, like the friends of Job (before they offered ill-advised ‘counsel’) are willing to sit with our suffering friends for days at a time, offering the comfort of solidarity and ‘presence.’

My family was blessed with a host of Christian friends and family who comforted us in the days and weeks after Mom’s passing. They still ask. They still share memories. They still pray for us. And in return, we do the same. God does not want any of us to suffer alone.

And this is also true for those who suffer a broken heart for other reasons– divorce, the loss of a home to fire or flood, the loss of a job, a wayward son or daughter– it is important for us to draw strength from others, and offer strength in our turn. But the source of our strength is Jesus, who suffered on our behalf, and rose victorious over death and separation. When “no one” understands, He DOES. When the world leaves us grieving alone, He is THERE. And when we see someone else grieving and suffering, and we don’t know what to do– He gives us the strength and the compassion to reach beyond our own resources and offer comfort.

On our own, we can be like Job’s friends– after awhile, we try to offer solutions, explanations, even judgment about another’s grief. “It’s time to move on.” “Just get over it.” “Well, if only you had…” None of these are helpful. Jesus never said any of those things to the people He came to comfort. Instead, He encouraged them to look to Him as the “resurrection and the life.” (see John 11:25).

Today, let us do the same. There are hurting people all around us. Let’s be an encouragement to others to embrace life– even when we are broken hearted.

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Come To Bethlehem

“O come, all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant,
O come ye, O come ye to Bethlehem!”

“Come to Bethlehem and see
Him whose birth the angels sing;
come, adore on bended knee
Christ the Lord, the new-born King.”

“O little town of Bethlehem,
how still we see thee lie!
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
the silent stars go by.
Yet in thy dark streets shineth
the everlasting light;
the hopes and fears of all the years
are met in thee tonight.”

“Come!” It echoes in our Christmas Carols; it echoes throughout Jesus’ ministry. It thrums and courses through the prophets and into the Revelations, “Amen, Come Lord Jesus!”(Revelation 22:20)

Christmas is all about coming– the coming of the Christ Child; the coming of the angels to shepherds; the coming of the shepherds to see the newborn King; the coming of the Wise Men. And we are bidden to “come” to Bethlehem and share in the joy and wonder of God coming to be our Emmanuel– God With Us.

But the journey to Bethlehem is not as easy or a joyful as one might imagine. Bethlehem is crowded. It is dark and dreary. It is not “silent” as the hymns make out. It is noisy, dirty, and filled with people who “aren’t from around here.” There is no room here. There is no joyous welcome. There is not enough to eat, what with all the out-of-town travelers; shelves are bare, while garbage is piling up in the streets. Tempers are high, and patience is low.

“Come to Bethlehem.” At this moment, Bethlehem is caught in the chaos and struggle of war. Hospitals are in danger. People live in fear and violence. There is no peace and quiet– no silent streets or glorious angels in the sky– only the light and noise of rockets. We may not be able to physically travel to Bethlehem at the moment, but we can focus our prayers on the Middle East– to the hurting people in Israel and in Gaza– to earnestly pray for truth and peace there. We may not be able to travel back in time to Bethlehem, but we can travel across town to help our neighbors who need encouragement; we can step out of our safe and comfortable lives to share light in the dark regions of today’s world. And we can “Come” to prayer– to lift up those who are hurting, to ask for strength and courage to help, to own our own limitations and emptiness.

“Come to Bethlehem.” At this season, we are tempted to stay where it is cozy and familiar; or to travel somewhere warm and welcoming. We want the joy and peace of the Christmas Season to come to us! But we are bidden to come to Bethlehem, with its crowded streets and suspicious strangers; its unfamiliar alleys and rude Roman officials. We are bidden to come and share this message of peace where there IS no peace. We are asked to come where there is need and darkness and fear– to spread the Good News, not to sit on it.

“Come to Bethlehem.” Are we avoiding our own “Bethlehem?” Are there places we could visit to spread light; places we’re being called to, or places where we should go to “be counted,” but we refuse to come? Are there people we can encourage? Ways we can share hope and help– if we are willing to come away from our own comfort and (manufactured) joy?

Perhaps we long to hear the angels shouting “Glory to God in the Highest!” (Luke 2:14) But if we won’t “come” to Bethlehem, we may miss their song. We may miss seeing the message of Christmas if we insist that it comes to our pleasant palace, instead of seeking the Babe in the Manger of the Little Town of Bethlehem.

“Come to Bethlehem and See.” “Come, Let us Adore Him!” “Come!”

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“Losing” a Loved One

Our family had a funeral this week. One of my mom’s cousins passed away. We are a close family– distance-wise, as well as emotionally close. So the funeral was huge…hundreds of people coming to pay their last respects. And most of us spouting the same old phrases and platitudes: “So sorry for your loss.” “She will be greatly missed.” “At least she’s not in pain anymore.” “It’s so hard to lose a loved one.”

Except– she’s not lost! She hasn’t gone missing. She died. And, because she is a believer, she is HOME! Yes, WE experience a sense of loss. We grieve and mourn her absence from us. And the pain and grief is very real. I still find myself grieving the “loss” of my dad after 25 years, and the more recent death of my mom earlier this year. But sorrow and grieving for us as Christians is tempered with hope, comfort, peace, and even joy and amazement. Linda, Mom, Dad, Grandma and Grandpa, and so many other precious believers are not Lost. They are not the victims of Death. In fact, as part of the funeral service, we were reminded of the words of the Apostle Paul in 1 Corinthians:

54 When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: “Death has been swallowed up in victory.”
55 “Where, O death, is your victory?
    Where, O death, is your sting?”
56 The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. 57 But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. 58 Therefore, my dear brothers and sisters, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain.

1 Corinthians 15:54-58

Yet Death does claim victims, and there are people who are “Lost,” who will be “greatly missed.” They are the ones who have died without hope, without peace, and without eternal life. In fact, many of them are still walking around– the living dead– the unsaved. I shed far more tears over those who are forever lost– those who will not accept the free gift of eternal life– than I will for those loved ones who have died in Christ. God welcomes us to be “found” in Him. He went to great lengths to defeat the power of Death, to bring true justice, and to shower us with Grace beyond our wildest imaginings. It is His gift to anyone who will trust Him. Yes, we will still taste death– and suffer pain and injustice, heartbreak and grief in this life. But these are the shadows. What comes after is the Light!

We shed some tears at the funeral this week, but we also laughed, hugged, sang, and said, “AMEN!” Linda ran the race, and she did not die (or live) in vain. She left a legacy of love and kindness that was celebrated this week. Heaven “gained” a loved one. And, while it hurts us not to be able to see her or laugh or sing with her right now, we know we will be reunited. And she is reunited with loved ones who have passed on before. But most of all, she is united with her Creator, her Redeemer, the Lover of her Soul, and her Lord. And ten thousand years from now, Linda will still be singing His praises!

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