Like so many of my church family and community members, I find myself reeling today from the sudden death of a dear lady. After several days of feeling like she was coming down with something, she received a shocking diagnosis of acute leukemia on Friday, was admitted to the hospital that very night, and passed away on Sunday.
How does that even happen?
The blessing for Pat is she didn't have to endure prolonged suffering. Though I am sure with every fiber in my being that she would've given anything for more time with her beloved husband and children, I'm equally sure that she is now experiencing joy in Glory that is beyond anything we can fathom.
I'm praying her family will find comfort in that knowledge as well, and that God's love and peace will cover them like a warm blanket in the days to come.
Meanwhile, I'm also praying for a childhood friend who has been at the bedside of her dying father for weeks. Today she blogged that nothing has been left undone or unsaid, and though this time with him has been treasured and sweet, the agony of watching his suffering and waiting for his release to that eternal joy in Glory has become nearly unbearable.
Two special people, loved by their families and so many others and especially by God. One is taken so quickly our heads are spinning, and the other, ready and eager now to be reunited with his precious wife in Heaven, suffers and waits.
I don't understand why in either case. As I have pondered it, however, God has reminded me of two things.
"Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his faithful servants." Psalm 116:15. They are HIS servants, HIS children, and I fully trust that he sees them and loves them through the transition from this life to the next, no matter how fast or slow that may be.
Second, I am reminded of God's words in Isaiah 55:9, "As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts." God knows what he is doing, whether or not I understand it. And I take great comfort in that. How could I worship a God small enough for me to wrap my brain around? That would put God on my level, and, well, I think you can get my point.
My faith tells me that God is sovereign, so I can trust that there is a divine purpose in all he does in life and death. My faith reminds me that God loves his children, so I can trust in his promise of salvation and eternal life. My faith upholds me, so in my weakness I can rest in the sufficiency of God's grace.
For all those who are hurting, who are questioning, who are waiting, who are struggling: may you choose faith in the sovereign God who loves you, rest in his grace, and be comforted by his peace.
Monday, October 20, 2014
Wednesday, October 15, 2014
Unmasking Halloween
Halloween has always been stressful to me. I'm not the most creative person when it comes to putting together a costume, so even as a kid, it always felt like so much pressure. I guess that's why I don't really have many fond memories of childhood Halloweens. Of course I recall the fun of trick-or-treating, I just can't really remember a single costume I wore. When my children came along, the pressure to create the perfect costume seemed even greater. Fortunately, they always looked cute and never really seemed to care whether or not they won any costume contests.
Before the Halloween that I, dressed as Pebbles from the Flintstones, met my future husband who was donning a cowboy get-up at the time, there is really only one that sticks out in my memory. I was a recent college graduate, working in a small town and living in my own apartment for the first time. It probably sounds silly, but I remember the excitement I felt as I was buying candy to hand out to the trick-or-treaters who would be coming to the door, MY door in MY place.
That night, I settled in front of the TV with a big bowl of candy by my side. I waited eagerly for the first knock at the door, so excited to see cute little kids in their costumes.
I waited. And I waited. And I waited some more. Not. One. Knock.
I was deflated, disappointed, and depressed. Since I had only arrived in town and started my job a few weeks before, I really didn't know anyone other than a few co-workers. I took a chance and called one, and as it turns out, she was having exactly the same kind of night. She was more than happy to accept my invitation to come over. We had the best time talking and laughing and enjoying a sugar buzz together!
With another Halloween approaching, I found myself thinking about that night. That Halloween doesn't stand out because of the costumes or the trick-or-treaters. It stands out because it was the first time that I felt like I had made a friend in my new community. We bonded over loneliness and laughter, commiseration and candy. We even went on to become roommates for a while. All these years later, time and distance between us, I'm still happy to be able to call her my friend.
Relationship. That's what it's all about. I made a friend that Halloween night because I summoned up the courage to reach out. We may not be in close touch like we used to be, but we've remained friends because I think we've both been able to summon the courage through the years to be real and transparent with one another during good times and bad. I know if I saw her tomorrow, we could pick up right where we left off.
I need to do better at being real and transparent in all my relationships. Halloween may be a night for costumes and masks, but every other day should be about taking them off, sharing our real selves, building real relationships, being real friends.
Before the Halloween that I, dressed as Pebbles from the Flintstones, met my future husband who was donning a cowboy get-up at the time, there is really only one that sticks out in my memory. I was a recent college graduate, working in a small town and living in my own apartment for the first time. It probably sounds silly, but I remember the excitement I felt as I was buying candy to hand out to the trick-or-treaters who would be coming to the door, MY door in MY place.
That night, I settled in front of the TV with a big bowl of candy by my side. I waited eagerly for the first knock at the door, so excited to see cute little kids in their costumes.
I waited. And I waited. And I waited some more. Not. One. Knock.
I was deflated, disappointed, and depressed. Since I had only arrived in town and started my job a few weeks before, I really didn't know anyone other than a few co-workers. I took a chance and called one, and as it turns out, she was having exactly the same kind of night. She was more than happy to accept my invitation to come over. We had the best time talking and laughing and enjoying a sugar buzz together!
With another Halloween approaching, I found myself thinking about that night. That Halloween doesn't stand out because of the costumes or the trick-or-treaters. It stands out because it was the first time that I felt like I had made a friend in my new community. We bonded over loneliness and laughter, commiseration and candy. We even went on to become roommates for a while. All these years later, time and distance between us, I'm still happy to be able to call her my friend.
Relationship. That's what it's all about. I made a friend that Halloween night because I summoned up the courage to reach out. We may not be in close touch like we used to be, but we've remained friends because I think we've both been able to summon the courage through the years to be real and transparent with one another during good times and bad. I know if I saw her tomorrow, we could pick up right where we left off.
I need to do better at being real and transparent in all my relationships. Halloween may be a night for costumes and masks, but every other day should be about taking them off, sharing our real selves, building real relationships, being real friends.
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