When Sorrows Like Sea-Billows Roll..

 

November 10th marks the 50th anniversary of the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, an iron freighter that sank in Lake Superior. The gale-force winds tossed the ship (carrying over 26,000 tons of iron) in waves of over 35 feet. All 29 sailors aboard the ship were lost. The event has been memorialized in song and stories, and in at least one museum display at Whitefish Point Michigan, near where the wreck occurred. The bell tolled 29 times, once for every life lost in the storm. Fifty years later, families are still haunted by the tragedy– a continuing reminder of the fragility of life, and the power and destructive force of winds and waves.

Some days, the hits just keep coming– an unexpected expense, a misunderstanding at work, a fender-bender during the commute, a plumbing nightmare, a migraine, the phone call with bad news.  Each new pain rolls over us, throwing us off balance, and trying to drag us under like a storm-tossed ship.

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“Even so, it is well with my soul.”  The story of this favorite hymn has been told many times, but it bears repeating. ( It Is Will With My Soul. wikipedia.org )  The author of these words had lost everything– his only son had died; shortly afterward, he lost almost all his money and property in the Great Chicago Fire of 1871.  A friend, knowing of his troubles invited him to bring his family to England for an evangelistic campaign.  Mr. Spafford (the above-mentioned author of the hymn) had to stay behind and sent his wife and four daughters ahead.  Their ship, the Ville du Havre, was struck by another vessel and sank.  All four of the daughters were drowned, and only his wife survived to send him news of the tragedy.  As he made the heartbreaking voyage to rejoin his wife, he passed the place where his daughters had most likely gone down.  At that moment, Mr. Spafford felt a welling of peace and hope beyond human understanding, which led him to pen the words that have given comfort to so many in the years since:

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say,
It is well, it is well with my soul.

Nothing can prepare us for the sorrows that sweep over us at unexpected moments.  Nothing can stop them, and though we know they will come, no one knows how high they will rise, or when they will crest and break around us.  No one except the one who set the boundaries of the sea, the one who has walked on its waters, and the one who can calm the storm.

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God doesn’t remove the sorrows or tragedies from our life or prevent them from washing around and over us.  But for those who trust in him, there is a promise that we will not be consumed. We may be in a storm-tossed boat in the middle of a raging sea, but at our faintest cry, Jesus will walk on choppy waves to be by our side and bring comfort.  He will teach us to be in awe of him as he commands the winds and waves to obey him.  He will teach us to trust him in the good times and the bad.  He will teach us to say, “It is well with my soul!”

35 Who can separate us from the love of Christ?
Can affliction or anguish or persecution
or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?
36 As it is written:
Because of You
we are being put to death all day long;
we are counted as sheep to be slaughtered.[a]
37 No, in all these things we are more than victorious
through Him who loved us.
38 For I am persuaded that not even death or life,
angels or rulers,
things present or things to come, hostile powers,
39 height or depth, or any other created thing
will have the power to separate us
from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord!
Romans 8:35-39 (HCSB)

When “Mother’s Day” Hurts

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Yesterday was Mother’s Day here, celebrating and honoring the mothers in our lives. Mother’s Day can be a wonderful day of celebration.  But it can also be one of the most painful days of the year.  Millions of women each year face acute heartbreak on this day– instead of celebration, they face the haunting memories of abandonment or separation, infertility, miscarriage, infant deaths, broken relationships, missed opportunities, regrets, suicide, and the loss of their own mothers.  There are no cheery greeting cards or perky flower baskets that can erase that kind of gut-wrenching pain– no pithy words or consolation gift that makes this day easy or comfortable.

I have an awesome mother-in-law, the world’s best sister, world-class sisters-in-law, a remarkable step-daughter, daughter-in-law, granddaughter, and a host of other wonderful women in my life.   I love being an auntie, step-mom, daughter-in-law, (step) grandma, great-aunt, and great-grand-aunt! I love that I am still in touch with former students and story hour kids, Sunday School and Bible School attendees, and others I have had the honor to mentor.  So I celebrate Mother’s Day and honor those people and all the ways their lives have impacted mine, and (hopefully) my life has connected with theirs.

But none of that chases away the ache of never having a child of my own– never knowing the joy of tucking my own child into bed; never being able to kiss away a boo-boo or a bad dream and say the words, “Mommy loves you.”  None of that will bring back my beloved mom or grandma my favorite aunts, mentors and friends who are gone.  I miss them more each year; I miss their wisdom, their strength, their comfort.

Maybe because of my own experience, I’m more attuned to it, but I see and hear a lot of pain around this time each year.  My heart goes out to all of the women with empty arms– the women who had to bury a huge chunk of their heart along with a child they can never hold; the women who had to say goodbye to the only one who could ever reassure them that, “Mommy loves you.”

My prayer today is that you would know that even in those moments when your heart is crushed, and your arms ache to hold or be held, that you are not alone; you are not forgotten.  God knows the aching loss of seeing his only son on the cross as he took his last gasping breath before he died.  Jesus experienced the sting of rejection from the people who should have called him brother, and “Father.”  Throughout the Bible, God gave us examples of women (Eve, Sarah, Hagar, Rebecca, Leah, Rachel, Hannah, Elizabeth, Mary and others) who knew the ache of barrenness, rejection, strife, and loss of children.  God saw their pain; he heard their cries of distress and their prayers.  He sees you too.  He hears you.  He loves you beyond anything you can imagine, and beyond where any grief, guilt, or despair can take you.

More than this, he has promised to be close to the poor in spirit, those who mourn, the broken-hearted, and to those who need rest and comfort.  He promises his presence, and he promises to turn our mourning into joy and bring us peace.  He is eager to restore us, to renew our strength, and to reassure us that we are loved with an everlasting love.  God created us in his image– and that includes the image of a mother hen gathering chicks, It includes the image of Mary who wrapped the God of the Universe in swaddling cloths and tucked him into a manger of hay, and who watched as that same God of the Universe died for her.

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God knows the passion, the pain, and the pure love of a woman’s heart– even when “Mother’s Day” hurts.

Be Still and Know…

Psalm 46
For the director of music. Of the Sons of Korah. According to alamoth. A song.
God is our refuge and strength,
    an ever-present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way
    and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
though its waters roar and foam
    and the mountains quake with their surging.
There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
    the holy place where the Most High dwells.
God is within her, she will not fall;
    God will help her at break of day.
Nations are in uproar, kingdoms fall;
    he lifts his voice, the earth melts.
The Lord Almighty is with us;
    the God of Jacob is our fortress.
Come and see what the Lord has done,
    the desolations he has brought on the earth.
He makes wars cease
    to the ends of the earth.
He breaks the bow and shatters the spear;
    he burns the shields with fire.
10 He says, “Be still, and know that I am God;
    I will be exalted among the nations,
    I will be exalted in the earth.”
11 The Lord Almighty is with us;
    the God of Jacob is our fortress.

When I am tempted to fret or worry, I like to read through Psalm 46. I love the way the psalmists use hyperbole to shrink fear and maximize faith– God is an “ever-present help”, we will not fear, “though the earth give way, and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea”, “He lifts his voice, the earth melts!” And I love that the phrase is repeated– “The Lord Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress.”

There is so much to unpack in just 11 verses of psalm! But I want to stick to two that always stand out to me.

First, the phrase, “the God of Jacob.” God is the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. He is the God of Moses, the God of Israel, the God of David…His titles are many. But in this case, He is the God of Jacob. NOT the God of Israel– even though God changed His name. No, He is the God of Jacob– the “heel grabber,” the son who stole his brother’s blessing and tricked his brother out of his birthright– the same Jacob who fled his homeland and worked for twenty years for his duplicitous uncle Laban. This is not the God of the victorious, but the God of those who have had to learn the hard way. He is the God of the one who has acted unjustly, and the God of one who has been treated unjustly. He is the God of the one who wrestles and demands a blessing, the God of the second son, the disappointed husband, and the grieving father. THAT is the God who is with US when we are in trouble and feeling overwhelmed by our own past mistakes, or our own inadequacies, or our unfair circumstances.

Secondly, the phrase “be still and know that I am God.” This same God who wrestled with Jacob, who blessed him in dramatic fashion, was the God who was with him through all the long and lonely night watches as a shepherd. Jacob, with his two wives, their two servants, and all thirteen or more of his children (12 sons and at least one daughter, Dinah)–spent a lot of his time surrounded by noises, nagging, responsibilities, and discord. Yet he took time to ‘be still.” And, though it took many years, and often came “the hard way,” Jacob did learn to “know” his God. He learned to trust that God would protect him, guide him, and bless him– and the generations that would follow him!

I am so grateful for this Psalm to remind me of God’s everlasting presence, His power to save and protect, and His sufficiency for every circumstance in my life. I’m so glad that the “God of Jacob” is the same God who sees me, loves me, and rescues me. I’m humbled to know that I don’t have to be clever enough or brave enough, or “righteous” enough to earn God’s help. I’m glad that the Lord Almighty is always with me. (see Hebrews 13:5) However, I still struggle to “be still and know…” I want to know by doing; by studying and making things happen. But to know God– to really know Him– I have to be still, to wait in silence and anticipation, to trust in what I cannot see and cannot do in my own power. I have to know Him as the Almighty, Omnipotent, Sovereign God that He is, rather than a God of my own imagination or the God I hear about or read about from someone else.

What a mighty God! The God of Jacob is MY fortress! And in stillness, meditation, and trust, I can KNOW Him!

“…Lose All Their Guilty Stains!”

“There is a fountain filled with blood
Drawn from Immanuel’s veins;
And sinners plunged beneath that flood
Lose all their guilty stains.”
William Cowper

I love old hymns. So often, they express Biblical truths in simple purity, or in soaring poetry, that captures both the imagination and the memory.

Recently, I was listening to a radio broadcast of a sermon about mercy. It was a wonderful sermon, and the pastor talked about the richness and wideness of God’s mercy and lovingkindness in various situations– when we face injustice, pain, loss and grieving, guilt, and even when we are unaware of it throughout our life (Psalm 139:16-17) From the womb to the tomb, we live in the Mercy of God– God extends His Mercy and Grace for as long as we are alive to call out for it, accept it, and receive it. More than that, His Mercy and Lovingkindness endures forever (Psalm 136).

Later that day, I was doing housework– I had dirty dishes to wash and laundry to do. And there were stains! I have plastic dishes that I used to heat up leftovers in the microwave, and some of those leftovers had tomato-based sauce or cinnamon or turmeric. The dishes have a film of red or brown or yellow that didn’t come out, even when I washed and soaked them. A few of the stains will eventually fade away, but some of them will never come out. I also have clothes that are stained. David and I still wear them around the house, but there are paint stains, ink stains, oily stains, and mustard stains that didn’t come out the first time I washed (or the second or third time!)

As humans, we all have stains of one type or another. We try to hide them; we try to scrub them; we try to cover them up. Some of our stains are external and visible– scars or blemishes, imperfections and disabilities, worn or tattered “second-hand” clothes, missing teeth, poor posture, obesity, being “too” short or tall–things that people notice right away. Other stains are deep inside– guilt, shame, fear, anger, hatred, bigotry, envy, arrogance, hopelessness, depression, broken-heartedness, loneliness– we try to hide them by isolating, covering up, pretending that all is well, or denying the extent of our brokenness.

I was touched by the sermon about how God’s Mercy reaches us in all of these circumstances. The Bible is full of examples of God’s Mercy and its transforming power. But the words of this old hymn came to my mind, and a deeper realization swelled as I sang them quietly in my own heart: “And sinners plunged beneath that flood LOSE ALL THEIR GUILTY STAINS!”

I spend time washing and scrubbing at stains– silly mistakes, accidents, upsets– and even if I am successful, I can often point out where the stains were or find the last vestiges of them on an old shirt or a white plastic bowl. But I don’t “LOSE” stains. I don’t have the power to make stains totally disappear– especially stubborn ones like ink and oil. But the stains I worry about most– guilt, pain from my past, worry about how others might judge me– these stains are all in my doubting mind. In God’s Mercy, THEY DON’T EXIST! That doesn’t mean that others WON’T still judge me, or that I won’t still remember old hurts. But God WON’T! Their power is broken. God has removed them as far as the east is from the west (Psalm 103:12-14)

Sin leaves stains in our lives– even if the sin wasn’t ours to begin with. That person who bullied me in third grade– that left a stain. The way I reacted– that probably left a stain, too. When I nearly died as an infant– that wasn’t my sin, or even my parent’ sin. But it left a stain because I was born into a world where we have disease, defects, and disasters. I have Diabetes. Part of that “stain” can be blamed on things I ate, and lifestyle choices I made. Part of that is genetic. There are people who live with abuse, injustice, chronic pain, and lasting heartaches. And God’s Mercy didn’t stop any of that from staining their lives.

But the “fountain…drawn from Immanuel’s veins” is powerful enough, and God’s Mercy is amazing enough to make those stains disappear. In this life, I still have to deal with diabetes, fatigue, misunderstandings, and my own sinful lapses. People still struggle with cancer, poverty, war, and doubt. But the stains won’t follow Christians into eternity. There won’t be any vestiges of uncleanness; there won’t be any memory of the hurts and losses we suffered during this lifetime. Christ’s blood is powerful enough, and His Mercy vast enough to make the effects of sin DISAPPEAR!

Where Grief Meets Hope

We lost a family member a couple of weeks ago. We were shocked and heartbroken to hear of his loss. To know that we will never get to hear his laughter or watch his eyes crinkle up over a good joke; never hear him enthuse over history or a great movie; never enjoy the fellowship of being in the same room together again. He never got to retire from his job; never got to walk his daughters down the aisle; never got to enjoy the house he and my sister-in-law planned to build.

BUT

Chris had a wonderful life in many ways. He and his wife have three amazing adult children. He got to enjoy plenty of days loving nature and enjoying a good sunset over Lake Michigan. He harvested many morels each spring. He made music. He helped hundreds of people in hundreds of little ways. He was blessed.

We went to Chris’s funeral last weekend. We helped celebrate his life– his accomplishments and achievements, his vivid personality, his sense of humor– and we celebrated his Faith. Yes, there were tears at the funeral. We will miss Chris in the years to come. But we share his faith and his great hope. We will miss him temporarily. We will grieve for a few years. And then, we will experience a joy that will make us forget the grief! Not only will we see Chris again– to laugh together and share stories and songs– we will be in the presence of our source of Life, and Hope, Joy and Peace! We will be surrounded by the great cloud of witnesses as we live eternally with the One who loves us best!

Many years ago, another man died. There was grief, stunned disbelief, and terror. The family, friends, and followers of Jesus Christ mourned. They hid. Their world was dark with despair and anguish. All these years later, we look at paintings and sculptures of Jesus suffering on the cross. But, while we shudder at the horror of all He suffered, we do not look on such pictures with fear or despair. The Cross is not a symbol of Death’s ultimate victory, but rather its ultimate defeat. Jesus didn’t stay dead. His body was buried, but He did not stay there. We celebrate, not the horrors of the Cross, but the limits of its power to steal our joy.

This is where grief meets hope. It is where the past is overwhelmed by the promise of Eternity. Christians grieve– of course we do. We love life, and we grieve to see it end. We love being with friends and family– we feel an emptiness and an ache when someone we love is “missing.” But we do NOT grieve without hope. We acknowledge the brief sting of loss. But Death loses its sting in the light of Christ’s victory. There is no lasting victory in the grave. Our time is short; we are powerless to stop death from taking us; from taking our loved ones. But Eternity beckons! Even our time on earth gives us daily reminders– the sun rises each morning; spring comes after each winter; children grow into parents, and we get to love another generation.

Even when life is hard; when grief looms large and hope seems dim– hope does not disappoint! Because Christ LIVES!

Chris was buried earlier this week– his body was buried– but he LIVES. He is healed and freed of all the pains and frustrations of this earthly life, and because of Christ’s gift of Grace and Redemption, Chris is living all that he once hoped for. Because of Christ’s great gift, many of us will someday join him in singing God’s praises, in laughter, delight, and endless joy!

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.)

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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.

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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.

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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.

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.

“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!

The Power of Pictures

When my Mom died back in February, she left a house full of memories, and also a house full of papers and empty containers, old clothes and books, and worn furniture and broken appliances. Mom was a hoarder, and it has taken months to begin sorting through all that Mom treasured. Yesterday, I was sorting through a tub of old photos. Mom took thousands of photos over the years, and we gathered up over 25 tubs of them. They are in random order, so one group of photos may be from the late sixties, while the next might have been taken just a few years ago.

It’s been both frustrating and entertaining to go through batches of photos. Seeing my face at age 6 with missing front teeth; seeing my nephew holding his newborn daughter; seeing my Dad in his work uniform; seeing long-lost relatives when they were both alive and younger than I am now! It can be jarring. I found a photo of my favorite pair of sneakers from childhood– they were bright yellow with black stripes and white treads. I loved those sneakers and I finally wore them out. But there they were, staring up at me from an old photo– brand new– and I felt the same sense of excitement I had when I was 10 years old. I also found an old photo of a cousin who recently passed away. There she was, fifty years younger at a family reunion, a young mother with two sons (another son and daughter were yet to be born!) It was a sharp stab to know how much her family is grieving right now. And yet, it was a beautiful reminder that she is NOT gone; she is raised to life, and grief will be turned to joy as we have an eternal “Family Reunion” in heaven!


Mom took a lot of wonderful pictures that mean so much to us now. But Mom also took a lot of “dud” pictures– pictures that were out of focus; pictures of old clothes, or faded flowers. Several pictures of the same thing from different angles. Pictures of people eating–their mouths wide open and gaping angrily. There are no labels telling why such pictures were taken, or what they might mean. Years later, they leave us confused and frustrated– and ready to throw them out!

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. And I have been living that lately, as I sort through old memories. But the pictures are reminding me of other memories– other “pictures” that are even more powerful.

God reveals Himself to us in so many ways– and in so many “pictures.” The Bible is full of parables, metaphors, proverbs, and histories that provide us with word pictures of His character. In Genesis, we read the story of Abraham and Isaac, which illustrates the great sacrifice God would make for our Salvation. Abraham was willing to give his son– the son God had promised– believing that God could raise him from the dead. Isaac didn’t die. He didn’t even know what was coming. But Jesus DID. God’s promises never fail. Unlike Isaac, Jesus KNEW what awaited Him at Calvary. He knew there would be no last-minute, substitute ram. HE was the lamb who would be slain. And He would rise victorious!

In Exodus, God provides another parallel; another word picture to show what He would do. He sent ten plagues on Egypt to prove His power, both to the Egyptians AND to the nation of Israel. But the tenth plague was much more than just a display of power. It was a metaphor for the Cross. In order to escape the Angel of Death, the Israelites were to use hyssop and the blood of the Passover lamb to “paint” the top and sides of their doorframes. Using the hyssop, they “whipped” blood onto the wooden doorframe, causing it to “bleed”– at the top, and on each side. The blood would drip down, creating a similar pattern to the blood on the cross–blood from the wounds on Jesus’ head and outstretched hands. There would even be a pool of blood on the ground, suggesting where His feet would be nailed to a wooden cross. It is a stark picture– a gruesome picture of pain and suffering. But it is a powerful picture that shows us how Jesus’ pain and suffering led to our Salvation. Death holds no power over the Cross! We can rest, knowing that God’s plan is for our rescue, not our destruction.

In the New Testament, Jesus used metaphors and explained how ancient stories foretold His arrival, as well as His death and resurrection. He used the story of Jonah to explain that He would be in the grave for three days. He used the prophets to remind His listeners of God’s many promises. His disciples recorded the stories. The Apostles continued to use the ancient scriptures to “show” that Jesus was the Messiah and that His life and death fulfilled the promises and prophecies.

Time after time, Jesus told parables– stories that were meant to “show” the character of His Father. And WE are also meant to reflect Our Father to the world! WE are to be pictures of God’s Love, His Grace and Mercy, His Faithfulness, and His Holiness. Whatever we do, wherever we go today, we WILL be like a photograph, showing others who we are inside– what we value, what we believe, who we trust, how we love and how we live. We can be powerful witnesses to God’s Love by the way we go about our daily activities. But we can also be “duds”– pictures of people pursuing worthless activities, or looking at the world from a dozen skewed perspectives.

I pray that my “photo” today will reflect God’s character, challenge assumptions, encourage others, and stir powerful reactions for HIS Glory!

No More Goodbyes

Today marks 25 years since I said “goodbye” to my father. My mother, sister, and I stood by his bedside at the hospital. The doctors had tried numerous times to re-start his heart. In the process, they had broken his sternum, and each new effort was causing additional pain and putting his lungs in danger of being punctured by bone fragments. His time was running out. We were allowed to come in and say our last words to him, before his worn-out heart finally stopped for good. I held his hand one last time, whispered that I loved him and that I would help take care of Mom. I kissed his forehead, and said a prayer. Mom and my sister did the same.

Earlier this year, I had to say goodbye to Mom as well. My sister and I were with her, and had read her mail aloud to her, as she had fallen into a coma. I was preparing to return home. I said, “goodbye;” I held her hand, kissed her cheek and turned to my sister. When I turned back around, Mom was gone–her oxygen machine was still running, but her heart had stopped beating, and she was peaceful and still. In that moment, I became an orphan.


Death is part of the curse of a fallen world. God is the source of all Life. In a fallen world, we are cut off from our life-source. Our mortal bodies must taste death. It is the consequence of Sin– our sin, and the sins of others. Disease, violence, aging, disasters, grieving, work, abuse– all conspire to drain the life out of our bodies. Life is a gift– we can’t “earn” it, and we can’t “hold on” to it indefinitely. Nor can we hold on to the lives of others–even those we love. Some day, I will lose my sister. Or she will lose me. Some day, I will lose, or be lost to my husband, my brother, my step-children, mother-in-law, grandchildren, cousins, friends, and neighbors.


And, just like leaves on the trees later this month, all of us will grow old, be changed, and fall into decay. Some will fall gently; others will be torn away by the winds of war, or crime, or cancer, or accidents. Some will fall early; others will cling to life until the last moment, but all will eventually die. More goodbyes. More grieving. More death.


But. God is the author of Life, not Death.


Death is not the end for those who have trusted their souls to God. Our bodies must still taste death. We must still say, “Goodbye” to those we love on earth. But our goodbyes are tempered with the promise that the One who conquered Death did so for US. Because Jesus was willing to die and able to rise again, we will also live again. And THIS life will be untainted and eternal. No more goodbyes. No more grieving and separation. No more fear of an unknown future that includes death. No more waiting. No more living without a father. Our Heavenly Father will never leave, never die, never suffer the ravages of age or disease, never fall. In fact, Jesus never said “Goodbye” to His disciples– it wasn’t in His vocabulary! He said that He would “Go to prepare a place…(John 14:2-3)”, and He charged His disciples to “Go into all the world…(Mark 16:15)” But He never said, “Goodbye!”

I had to say, “Goodbye,” to my wonderful parents. And I have the joy of knowing that our “goodbyes” are temporary. That I will see them again, even as I will see my Heavenly Father someday. So, while today holds in it the sadness of watching my Dad suffer in his last minutes of earthly life, it also holds the promise of reunion and restoration. My Dad will never again have to suffer; neither will my Mom. My future probably holds a few more “goodbyes.” But it also holds “Hello!” “Welcome Home!” and “I’m so happy to see you again!”

Photo by Polina Zimmerman on Pexels.com

I thank God for the lives of both my parents– for their testimonies of faith, for their good examples, and for the wisdom, laughter, and love they shared. And I thank God that their deaths were not the end of that love and joy. In fact, it will be even better to share someday what we could never have here on earth–eternal peace and freedom from grief and loss.

Twenty-five years seems like a long time, but it is a drop in the bucket of time, and nothing in light of eternity. That truth brings me great comfort as I face today. I hope you will be encouraged and comforted as well. Heaven is a place with no more “goodbyes.” And that radically changes the way I say “Goodbye” here on earth!

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