The Last Word

While “the last word” can describe a pushy eagerness to be the first and last to express an opinion, it can also be a message for another’s good, to communicate love. Sadly, the first example can be heard around us everywhere, physically and virtually.

Wyndham’s last words to me were “I love you.” Certainly, there were details of life we talked about earlier, but his last words expressed the heart of our relationship. These words are what mattered the most, to him and to me. I treasure those words. He used them daily when he could talk, but he had not been able to talk for months. So, when he somehow got these words out before he died, they were even more precious to me. While I remember so many details about his wisdom and passion for God…I remember these words the most. I carry our relationship of love with me always. His last gift to me was a diamond necklace, which he entrusted Sam to purchase. Even though he knew I am not a “jewelry person,” he wanted this remembrance so I would keep him close to my heart. And he is, always, close to my heart.

According to Jesus’ last words, He wants us to remember He loves us and will be with His sons and daughters. The fact that God’s first and last words were a blessing shows me once again the depth of His love. This moves and touches my heart.

What were Jesus’ last words? I had often thought His last words were the great commission, found in Matthew 28:18-20. But those were not His last words. His last recorded words were in the form of a blessing as He ascended to heaven.

When he had led them out to the vicinity of Bethany, he lifted up his hands and blessed them.
While he was blessing them, he left them and was taken up into heaven.
Then they worshiped him and returned to Jerusalem with great joy.
And they stayed continually at the temple, praising God.
(Luke 24:50-53)

Luke expounds on Jesus’ ascension in Acts as he quotes Jesus saying, “But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” (Acts 1:8) Was this the blessing Luke recorded? We don’t know. Jewish blessings usually invoke a gift or token of love, which the gift of His Spirit certainly is.

While we don’t know the exact words of the blessing as Jesus ascended, we know He raised His hands and blessed His disciples. We understand that they knew that He would somehow be with them through His Holy Spirit, though they did not yet understand how. And we know that they left His ascension rejoicing and praising God. That’s how God’s love affects us when we understand it.

Interestingly, the first recorded words from God to humankind were a blessing (Gen 1:22) and the last words from Jesus to humankind were a blessing. Learning from Jesus, I want my first and last words to communicate love. Because He loves, I can give love. I want my words to be a blessing to others. To communicate love.

This causes me to ask myself: What are my first words to others when I see them or greet them? What do they communicate?

What are my last words? What do they communicate?

Remembering that Jesus loves me and is with me brings me great comfort. His love allows me to show love to others.

A Jewish blessing is found in Numbers 6, describing God’s heart toward His people.

GOD spoke to Moses:

“Tell Aaron and his sons, This is how you are to bless the People of Israel. Say to them,
GOD bless you and keep you,
GOD smile on you and gift you,
GOD look you full in the face and make you prosper. (Numbers 6:22-26 MSG)

I love this blessing. I love the thought of God blessing me and keeping me. I thrill that He would smile on me and gift me, looking me full in the face. Amazing. God’s love touches my heart and gives me great joy. This blessing has been put to song, which has become a great encouragement to me. I pray as you listen, this encourages you as you remember God’s heart toward you.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uZ55mDL7dA0

A Love-Hate Thing

I love “Papa’s bench,” the memorial bench I purchased that was placed at the reservoir five minutes from my house. I often walk and pray around the two-mile perimeter surrounding the lake while Denver frolics and fetches sticks from the water. I chose a bench because I wanted a place to “sit with” Wyndham. I didn’t want a cemetery; I wanted a nearby place with nature’s beauty and fishable water.

The bench went into the ground while I was visiting Kristen in Connecticut. The town employee, who has been extremely kind and thoughtful throughout the process, called to tell me it was in the ground. Hearing that I was away, he put tape across the bench so I could cut the tape and also so that no one would sit there before I did. See what I mean? He is thoughtful.

I arrived back in town the next evening right before dark. I was tired and hot after my drive home. I grabbed some scissors to cut the tape and walked down to the bench that I told you I love. I cut the tape away, sat down, and cried. Ugly cried. I talked out loud, some to God and some to Wyndham. I told God I hated the bench. I never wanted a memory bench. I wanted Wyndham. I loved it, and I hated it. All mashed up together. After a good cry and talk, I settled down on the bench. The reservoir was low, emptier that I had seen it in a long time. No wonder my town has a water ban in effect. Also, the sweltering heat from the previous few days encouraged grass to grow in the water, and I didn’t like how it looked. I didn’t like much that evening, as is likely obvious by now.

In the quiet evening, as I sat still, I began to hear what sounded like a waterfall. As I looked up, I saw water gushing into the lake. I told God…”Okay, I get it.” You see— I felt just like the low, way too empty reservoir…with ugly weeds growing to add insult to injury. And yet, God reminded me that He makes a reservoir possible by being the stream of living water. He will fill my empty reservoir—not with a slight trickling of water drops, but with a forceful gush of living water sent by His Spirit. (As I attached this picture of the outpouring water, I noticed the reflection of the shape of a cross with power lines attached. Oh ,the allegory here…God really wants me to get this message.)

On the last and greatest day of the Feast, Jesus stood and said in a loud voice, “If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me and drink.
Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, streams of living water will flow from within him.”
By this he meant the Spirit, whom those who believed in him were later to receive. Up to that time the Spirit had not been given, since Jesus had not yet been glorified.
(Jn 7:37-39)

(Interestingly, and adding even more depth to this amazing promise from Jesus, is that Jesus said this on the last day of the Feast of Sukkot, which included a water ceremony and chanted prayers pleading for rains for the harvest. Jesus was ushering in a new way of thinking.)

I must remember this new way of thinking, remembering that He continually pours love into my heart through His Spirit (Rom 5:5), like that water gushing from the source.

Somehow, my town knows when to turn on the water flow when the reservoir is low.  How much more does my God know when I need a fill-up? If my reservoir isn’t full, this also affects other people, not just me.

I’m happy to have a bench that I love and hate. I need physical reminders of memories. I think that is why there are so many celebrations recorded in the Bible, so many parables told, and stones of remembrances collected. We all need reminders.

Oh, and another little reminder from God to share. Later, I think it was the next morning, I was speaking with God about how difficult it can sometimes be to feel His presence. After all, I had talked with, lived, with, touched, and talked with Wyndham for forty-five years and now I have memories. With God, I have talked with Him for years and have His Spirit and His Word, but I have never seen Him or physically touched Him. That’s hard, and I think is why Jesus says “blessed are those who have not seen, and have believed.” (Jn 20:29)  I told Him it is also hard to not know what it means to be in the spiritual state after death, and though I know Wyndham is with God, I felt a need for reassurance that all was okay. I asked Him if He could please let me know this somehow. I didn’t need to understand it, I just needed to know all was okay. This is all I said, as I did not really even know what I was asking.

After I prayed, I got up, picked up my phone, and had a message waiting from a sister in another region, Kathleen Johnson. This was her message to me. “Jeanie, in my quiet time I thought of you. As I was praying to God I had such a strong feeling that God wanted me to pass on to you that everything is all right..”

If that is not the Spirit at work, I don’t know what is. Of course, I cried in gratitude.

And now, every time I sit on the bench that I love and hate, I not only remember Wyndham, but am reminded that Jesus is my stream of living water…and Wyndham is more than all right.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Were You There? A deeper look into an African American Spiritual

Were you there?

A moving African American spiritual. A daunting question.

The questions this song asks give me pause. Each verse asks if I was there when they crucified my Lord; when they nailed Him to the cross; when they pierced Him in the side; and when the sun refused to shine. These questions are followed by the phrase, “sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.”

This popular spiritual has its roots in the communal slave experience, appearing in 1899 in William E. Barton’s Old Plantation Songs. The lyrics stem from the deep love and appreciation for the cross, common to the African-American slave community.

As I read or sing these lyrics I realize that of course, I wasn’t there, but this is not the point of the questions. The questions are asked so that I can go there in my heart and mind, remembering the sacrifice Jesus gave for me and consider my response to that sacrifice by the way I live today.

These questions function as an anomnesis, which from the Greek means “to remember.” Author David Bjorlin writes, “It calls the community to re-member the past to the present, to bring these historic events to bear on the now and make them part of our story…to bring the past events of Christ’s suffering and death into the present and transform us in its light.”[1]

Author James Cone, in his book The Cross and the Lynching Tree, tells of the centrality of the cross to the African-American community. This song, penned in days of slavery, takes on an even deeper meaning for the African-American community as it remembers the slave experience at the root. Cone writes, “In the mystery of God’s revelation, black Christians believed that just knowing that Jesus went through an experience of suffering in a manner similar to theirs gave them faith that God was with them, even in suffering on lynching trees, just as God was present with Jesus in suffering on the cross.” This allowed them to have hope in Jesus’ promise that he would be with them because of his resurrection power.[2]

As I write these words, I pause to let them sink in a bit. They are hard to write.

Were you there?

If I put myself there with Jesus, it changes my world view and the way I live each day. This is how I strive to live, though I too often fall short. Also, If I try to put myself there, in the roots of this hymn, it can change my perspective toward others.

In the memoir of African-American pastor and civil rights leader Howard Thurman entitled, With Head and Heart, Thurman recounts his meeting in India with Mahatma Gandhi. Before he and his wife left, Gandhi asked them to sing this hymn to him. Gandhi noted, “I feel this song gets to the root of the experience of the entire human race under the spread of the healing wings of suffering.”[3]

In the horrific video of the murder of George Floyd, the image of the three officers standing by while Floyd cries “I can’t breathe” haunts my soul. They were there. And they did nothing to stop it.

I pause to ask. What if I was there? Would I have done everything in my power to stop it? I’d like to think so, but since I have not done everything I can to stop racism….it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble. And repent.

I think all the way back to times when I was a young girl and saw bathrooms labeled “colored” and “white” and walked quietly into my privileged restroom without a word. Why, when in high school during desegregation and I was caught in an ensuing riot did I worry much more about my own safety than ever seeking to understand the pain that my new fellow students felt by having their neighborhood school, teachers, and all they had known close their doors, to never reopen again?

Immaturity perhaps. But immaturity indoctrinated in a root system of inequality, injustice, and white privilege. I think I must tremble some more.

Before leaving Ghandhi’s tent, Thurman asked him what he thought was the greatest barrier in India to the spread of Christianity. Gandhi answered, “Christianity as it is practiced, as it has been identified with Western Culture, with Western civilization and colonialism.”[4]

Let that one sink in.

Thankfully, a final verse has since been added to the song. It asks, “Were you there when He rose up from the grave?”

How thankful I am for this verse, as Jesus provides the only true source and direction for love and unity. In The Cross and the Lynching Tree, Cones emphasize the victory in the cross as he declares, “while the lynching tree symbolized white power and ‘black death,’ the cross symbolized divine power and ‘black life’—God overcoming the power of sin and death.[5]

Though I haven’t experienced African American history, I, for one, plan to “go there” to better understand the history of systemic racism and ways this shameful past still affects my present. It will likely involve some more trembling and some speaking up.

Thanks be to God there is a way out of the power of sin through Jesus’ willingness to “go there” for me. He went there. All the way to the cross. He was there, giving His life.

I wasn’t there when He rose up from the grave, but because He did, He can now be here with us. Because of this, I can be transformed more into His image each day, holding to the hope He brings. He provides the hope for change. Desperately needed hope.

Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.
And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being                    transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord,           who is the Spirit. (2 Cor 3:17-18)

I invite you to listen to the Three Mo’ Tenors’ rendition of “Were You There?” Perhaps it will touch your heart just a little deeper.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uhGYD1svTM4

[1] David Bjorlin, “History of Hymns: Were You There?” Discipleship Ministries: United Methodist Church, Vol 17, March 2016.

[2] James H. Cone, The Cross and the Lynching Tree (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 2011), 21-22.

[3] Howard Thurman, With Head and Heart:: The Autobiography of Howard  Thurman (NY: Harvest; Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 1979), 134.

[4] Thurman, 135.

[5] Cone, 18.

Finding and Feeling the Pleasure of God: New Chapters

Transitions never stop.

Chapters end and new ones begin. In each transition I find new opportunities to grow. I recently shared on Facebook about my graduation, the end of a chapter. I prefer to use the word “commencement.” A new beginning. I want to express a heartfelt thank you for your encouragement, and I especially thank God for the snowfall during my virtual commencement (and a few weeks ago on my birthday) that I believe were special tokens of encouragement from Him. Snow was always a cause for celebration for Wyndham and me. Ending this chapter of life was bittersweet but also opened new doors for finding and feeling the pleasure of God as I try to please Him. (I am discovering more each day the meaning of friendship and relationship with God…pleasing denotes relationship.) I describe this bittersweet ending in a paragraph from my very last assignment, a reflective one.

This paper is my last assignment before I graduate. As I write this sentence, tears stream from my eyes, remembering the journey I have traveled over these two years. I worked on my assignments each night after I got my husband settled in his hospital bed. I would turn on the television for him, usually sports, and work for four or five hours, beginning at about 9:00 pm, with him by my side. He was my greatest encourager and was so proud of me. The last year, when he could no longer talk, he graciously let me read him my papers while I asked him if he thought they were good or needed work. No matter how many more drafts I would write, he would always nod or blink with approval. How I miss those nights. I watched my husband transition from physical life to spiritual-only life. As he transformed throughout this process, so did I. As I finish this paper, my heart fills with emotion because this last assignment marks the beginning of a new chapter. I liked the old chapter, and it feels hard to turn the pages. Once again, I am called to live fully for “today.”

This class, my last class, was also held during a global pandemic, a time in history like none other I have known.  It seems fitting that I end my coursework with a study of God’s new covenant.  I deeply feel the “now, but not yet” paradox of the riches of God’s grace. As I complete this journey, I look forward to continuing to learn until my last breath. I cherish the comradery of community. Since my earthly journey is still in progress, I look with eager expectation to what lies ahead as I strive to finish well, all the way into the arms of my God.

 New chapters: God puts things on our hearts when we listen and ask for His Spirit to reveal His desire as we move forward with Him. This past Monday morning and last night marked the end of a six-week workshop spawned by such an urging from His Spirit. Sometimes, moving forward feels like putting square pegs in round holes, but this past six weeks felt like putting square pegs in square holes. When that happens in our lives, we feel the pleasure of God. I love Eric Liddell’s fitting quote from Chariots of Fire, “When I run I feel His pleasure.”

I feel that way about both learning and teaching. My heart sings. I love continual learning, which I think is crucial for teaching. I love connecting when teaching, and I love watching God work in individual lives, including my own. In my previous post, I spoke of a workshop I wanted to begin called “Navigating Home: A Longing Fulfilled.” I had no idea if there would be interest, but there was. A lot. We had two workshops, one Monday morning and one Tuesday evening. These were filled with some truly amazing individuals who left me inspired, further taught, and moved in my heart—calling me higher for God.  If felt we journeyed together through these classes by digging deeper into our lives, in the Bible, and with each other as we dove into the topics of our identity; rejection, shame and guilt; vulnerability, intimacy, and trust; loss, grief, and healthy, godly relationships. For all who contributed to these times, I thank you and look forward to another, different session in the not too far future.

I will be repeating this workshop again, starting within the next week or two, so please let me know if you are interested in joining. (There is no fee.)

I will also be sharing more things I have been learning through the journey over the past couple of years in upcoming posts, but for now, am thrilled to find ways to serve that make my heart sing.

What moves your heart? What makes your heart sing? Likely, it is something that springs from God’s gifts mentioned in Romans 12:5-8, all of which all are meant to help us love better.  We all have God-given gifts, and when we find ways to use them to please God, we begin to feel His pleasure. I pray we all find our square pegs for the square holes and keep transforming to be further shaped for God’s pleasure. As a result, we also feel the pleasure.

 

 

 

 

 

Just for Today

One day at a time. Each day.

This is how I strive to live. I’m not always successful, but I have made a lot of progress. I began learning this routine a couple of years ago when I knew that any day might be Wyndham’s last. So, I strove to make each day the best it could possibly be. This practice gave me a new perspective on daily life, even though I should have always held that perspective. It was a good way to live then, and it is a good way to live now. In so many ways, this perspective has helped prepare me for this strange time, when one day blurs into another.

Today, I can choose to be grateful. Today, I can choose to be filled by God. Today, I can choose to set my mind on things above. Today, I can give and serve. I can do this today. And then again tomorrow, I can do this today.

There is a reason that Jesus taught us to pray, “Give us today, our daily bread” (Mt 6:11). There is a reason that God gave manna to the Israelites; a food that lasted for one day. There is a reason the word “manna” means “what is it?”  According to hebrewuniversity.com, “When the heavenly bread began to rain down, in the original Hebrew the people of Israel asked: “Ma’n Hu?” {?מן הוא} – English for “what is it?” and that is the origin of the name “manna” (In Hebrew the name is “man” {מן}).”

Many “rainy” days of late, we are also tempted to ask “What is it?” We often don’t understand what these days of isolation will mean, but we can be assured we are given enough to meet our needs, one day at a time. We can choose our responses to the challenges of each day, difficult though they may be. The hard thing about life is that it is just so “daily.” How will I navigate this “today” that I am given? In reality, today is the only day I know I have (James 4:13-15), so I must be content for this day. Today, I can choose to graze the green pastures and walk beside the still waters described in Psalm 23. Please watch this short meaningful video describing the reality of the green pastures spoken of in Psalm 23.

I realize, when viewing through Middle Eastern eyes, just how close I must stay to the shepherd. As God’s sheep, I am not just plopped down into a lush field, but I am lovingly led to what I need for today. Even in trials. This keeps me tied to a relationship with the shepherd, and keeps me close enough to hear Him. No wonder God longs for us to stay close to Him. He knows what happens when we wander. David makes this plea in Psalm 95:7 (RSV)

For he is our God, and we are the people of his pasture, and the sheep of his hand. O that today you would hearken to his voice!

Hearing his voice allows us to live each day to the full.

Last year I wrote a book about daily choices we face in life. If you are looking for a book to read, I hope this might offer you some hope while living each day to the full. I just clicked on the link and discovered it’s over half off right now – $4.99. https://ipibooks.ecwid.com#!/Every-Day-Is-a-New-Chance/p/94782189

Also, two new books are coming soon. I’ll let you know when soon.

For those still desiring to attend a “Navigating Home: Finding Your Place to Belong” workshop mentioned in my last blog, two sessions (one in the morning and one in the evening) are now in full swing. We have completed two sessions, and I am inspired by the lives of the women involved. When these are over in May, I plan to offer it again, so stay tuned.

May you have a beautiful day in your green pasture, staying close to the shepherd.

 

Navigating Home: Finding Your Place to Belong

Workshop Offering: Navigating Home: Finding Your Place to Belong

I have pondered my home of late. Sadly, it could be called “the house of a widow and an orphan,” because that’s who lives here. I don’t like either of those words, because they both denote distress, as James 1:27 states. Those words don’t really define us, but is impossible to be (or have been) categorized as either without having experienced great loss and pain. We all long to belong, and yet sometimes we can feel a nagging discontent, even when we are “at home.” Perhaps during these days of isolation, the longing to feel “at home” while at home intensifies.

Several years ago, I conducted numerous multi-media workshops that resonated with many. These workshops were entitled, “Understanding Goose: For anyone who feels empty, rejected, or different.”  (The goose part of the title comes from various goose related anecdotes scattered throughout the workshop. They are illustrations based on the true story of a goose that longed to belong to my parents. In the workshop, I discuss issues of loss, rejection, intimacy, trust, identity, guilt and shame, and control. I also discuss various ways these issues affect us and where they come from while looking at ways Jesus can fill these empty or broken places.

My frustration in this workshop has been that I have only had the time to present it in a three-hour one-day session, which feels insufficient. Because of this, and because we are all at home for a while, I am planning to try an online venue for the workshop.

I would like to offer this six-session workshop 1 (or perhaps 2) time(s) a week (TBD) for 4 weeks via Zoom. I have renamed the workshop: Navigating Home: Finding Your Place to Belong.

This workshop is a revision of my previous workshop. It will be offered for free on a first-come basis for up to twenty participants. I will deliver six 30 to 40-minute multi-media lessons on the topics, followed by some discussion.

I have yet to set the time, depending on what is best for you. I can set aside:

10:00-11 AM Eastern time on Monday, Wednesday, or Friday

7:30 PM on Mondays or Tuesdays

The beauty of conferencing is that you do not need to be local to attend. If you are interested, please either PRIVATE MESSAGE me on Facebook or email me at shaw.jeanie@gmail.com. ****Please include your name, email address, phone number, AND the days and times you can meet.

I will be in touch with you and look forward to this time together.

 

Shaken to the Core

It was the summer of 1973, 3:00 am according to the clock on my bookshelf headboard. I awoke to the smell of a cigarette, a man’s voice, and the feel of pressure on my back.

The man spoke, “Don’t scream. I have a knife.” For the next hour, I was shaken to the core, not knowing whether I would be alive by the time the sun rose. I prayed silently. Fervently. I clearly remember thinking that this was the moment every belief I had was tested. I begged God to protect me in this dire situation, but also remembered the words of Shadrach, Meshack, and Abednego. I knew God was able to save me, I just did not know if He would. I remember thinking, “Can God really hear me?” I was home for the summer, and my parents were on the other side of the house. My mom was deaf. Besides, if I spoke I had already been threatened with a knife. I completely and deeply felt the presence of God’s Spirit as I prayed and boldly told the man that he would account to God for his actions and he needed to leave. Much conversation ensued. I never saw his face, thankfully. After nearly an hour, he told me he was leaving and did not know why. I knew why. He left, leaving me unharmed. He had planned to do “everything I had ever read about,” according to him. (If you want to hear more of the story, read My Morning Cup. https://ipibooks.ecwid.com#!/My-Morning-Cup/p/64183403)

This was the first time I was shaken to the core. The second time was last fall, watching my husband die after suffering from a cruel neurological disease. I had prayed faithfully and fervently, believing God could heal him. He could. But he didn’t. Here on earth, that is. He suffers no more and is with the Father. It is times like these that cause me to look inside my heart and ask, “What do I really believe?

The days we are presently living are nothing like we have seen in our lifetime. I have experienced some fearful times as I practiced “Cold War” drills by hiding under my school desk in case an atomic bomb hit (like that would help). I experienced turmoil during the Vietnam War era and 9/11, but I never sent my husband or children off to war. My life has been fairly comfortable, especially compared to many. COVIC-19 has stalled our world, and isolation offers a time to evaluate and determine our deepest core convictions.

This week I am preparing to turn in my final project as I finish my Master’s program. In a small portion of that project, I state my core convictions in eight areas of life including faith, emotions, relationships, finances, health, etc. Each conviction is accompanied by scripture, a goal, and a person to whom I will be accountable. It has been a wonderful exercise which I recommend.

This pandemic has shaken the world’s value system to the core. Thankfully, some values are emerging that have previously felt lost.  Prayerfully, this situation has revealed your solid, faith-filled convictions. How is your faith? What do you really believe? Do you truly believe this world is not your home? Do you really believe Jesus rose from the dead and is returning? Do you really believe the only treasures of importance are those we store in heaven? Do you really believe Jesus hears your prayers and will be with you? Do you believe that the Scriptures can show you God, teach you how to please Him and how to love each other? If we believe these things, our contentment will be real. Our hope will make us resilient despite circumstances. Inner peace and steadfast joy cannot be taken from us.

I feel like my last few years, in many ways, have been a training ground for today’s pandemic. I have seen suffering and death “up close and personal” and have been tethered to home for several years. God has stayed close with me in the suffering and He promises to be close to all who are His. Because God lives with me, inside of me, I am never alone and I have something of great value to share with those around me.

My minister and friend, Michael Lamb, shared a quote from Charles Spurgeon that resonates with me. Spurgeon said, “I have learned to kiss the wave that throws me against the Rock of Ages.” Can you kiss the waves? The Rock of Ages brings comfort, peace, and joy amidst the waves. I am grateful. I will find that sweet spot in the curl of the wave, riding it all the way to shore.

 I will praise the LORD, who counsels me; even at night my heart instructs me.
I have set the LORD always before me. Because he is at my right hand, I will not be shaken. (Ps 16:7-8)

Find rest, O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from him.
He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will not be shaken.
My salvation and my honor depend on God; he is my mighty rock, my refuge.  Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your hearts to him, for God is our refuge. Selah (Ps 62:5-8)

For reflection: What are your core convictions? Try writing them down and accompany them with scriptures. It’s best to know them well before they are tested. If we lack them, we can find and grow them. If our convictions are not solid, we will crumble. If they are solid, we cannot be shaken.

 The words “once more” indicate the removing of what can be shaken—that is, created things—so that what cannot be shaken may remain.
Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us be thankful, and so worship God acceptably with reverence and awe,…(Heb 12:27-28)

 

It Really Stinks, but I am Okay

Most days I am okay. What does that mean? It means I am waking up, walking with God, and enjoying many things in life. I have things I look forward to. I smile and laugh. It is during these times when my thoughts suddenly become knotted in a contortion of confusion twisted with guilt. Why should I get to wake up? Why can I enjoy the sunshine, hear the birds sing, laugh, talk with my children and grandchildren, or even take a walk? I get to live. He doesn’t. Or does he? My mind jumps, attempting to visit a dimension simply impossible to understand because I am entrapped by my mortality.

Next, reasoning attempts to overtake my thoughts. Wyndham would want me to enjoy life, I am sure of this. I would desire the utmost happiness for him were our situations reversed. If, in fact, he is awake, more alive than ever (which is my belief), he would laugh (lovingly) at my guilt for enjoying life…oh, if you only knew, babe. It is beyond your wildest dreams. Suddenly, my mind begins to ponder what heaven might be like.

I do not know what a new heaven and earth will be, but I surmise something like the Garden of Eden and better, before sin. In Paradise, we can finally eat from the tree of life because we will no longer live in a broken world, but a new world as God intended. God will no longer need to protect us from living forever in this broken world. God will walk with us as He did with Adam and Eve in the Garden, calling us by name, intimately and lovingly.

Jewelry has never been my thing, so honestly, streets of gold, foundations of precious stones, and gates of pearl don’t thrill me. However, the vision of paths of golden light reflecting hues of every color infiltrating the horizon captivates me. Crystal blue waters sound divine, and emerald mountains and forests create in me a longing. But mostly, I am captured by the thought of endless fellowship with those I love and those whom I will come to love once I know them. And God, who is love, will be there, united not only with Jesus and the Spirit—but with me. That’s what I long for.

Heaven, I believe, is about relationships. I think we will somehow “tend” to the new garden, walking and talking with God and each other with no pretense, insecurity, or guile. I think animals will live there, but without the food chain so that the lion will play with the lamb. I cannot imagine, even if we are not married as we know it, that Wyndham will just be another brother to me, since we had forty-five years of deep love. But then, what will time mean since we will be timeless? This is all so far beyond my grasp, because God is beyond human thought.

Is Wyndham merely asleep until a further time, in some hibernation form? Is he already in Paradise? I think the Scriptures teach the latter, but whatever is the case, God is quite capable of taking care of him. What happens there? Where did Jesus go and what did He do during the three days before He was resurrected? What does it all mean? Is Wyndham fishing with Jesus, or Peter? Can he see me?  Is he welcoming a few friends who have passed on even since his death a few short weeks ago? God, I asked if you would be willing to arrange for Wyndham to show Emily around Paradise. Did that happen? I wish I knew even some of these answers, but I don’t. I must simply trust while on this side of eternity. Trusting is hard sometimes. Lots of times. Daily. Because I want him here. He liked it here, too.

I am glad that Jesus said to Thomas in front of the other disciples,
“Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” (Jn 20:29)

You, nor I, have ever seen Him physically and at times He can feel far away. But He is not. I have never touched Him, but I have been touched by Him. I have never seen Him, but I have seen where He has been. I have seen changed lives, including mine. I have seen sunsets, I have seen storms, snowfalls, babies born, and all sorts of wonders of creation. I have seen Him do the impossible and the unlikely. I have observed the laws of nature fall in line with predictable precision. I witness jaw-dropping creativity in humans, created in His image. I have seen the consequences of sin, the freedom of forgiveness, and have experienced and observed love, which is so profound it can only be a God-given quality. I walk with Him and talk with Him. And He does tell me I am His own. We do walk through the fields together, as good friends should and do. I clasp His hand and our voices fill with laughter—my God and I. I cherish the images these song lyrics evoke, convinced that eternal life is all about relationships, beginning first with God. In this relationship, as the Scriptures promise, He pours His love into my heart and fills me with joy, peace, patience, and other fruits of the Spirit through His Spirit in me (Rom 5:5; Gal 5:22-23).

I have never more appreciated Jesus. He understands humanity. He did not want to die. In Gethsemane, He sweat drops like blood over the prospect of death. Death was the last enemy to overcome, and overcome He did. Where now is its sting? Only when I am resurrected from the dead will I fully know resurrection’s power. Hope keeps me knowing that Wyndham is good. I will be better than okay because I will be with God as he is with God. Thank you, Jesus, for conquering death.

But for now, still living as a perishable mortal, my grief from the death of my beloved and best friend does sting. It stings like no tomorrow. It stings worse than a thousand hornets biting while I’m passing a kidney stone. It’s completely horrible. His disease was more horrible. Grief can suck the life right out of me; yet, I have no choice but to go through it. I don’t want to go through it, but I must. So must everyone at some point in life; no, at numerous points in life. Nonetheless, I hate it right now.

I can only attribute this pain to our fallen world and death as a result; however, death is also a portion of God’s grace to carry us beyond this broken, hate-filled, sin-filled, fear-filled, broken world. Only Jesus could/can fix this by defeating death and allowing us to be imperishable as we pass through death (1 Cor 15:50-52).

Since I am still mortal, I keenly feel the merciless kicks in the gut, just when I think I’m doing well. I’ll have a series of really good days and then one day I drive into the driveway. Out of nowhere, the stark reality hits that Wyndham will not be waiting for me inside of the house and he will never be there again. That feels unfair, so I cry out to God for answers as to why he didn’t heal him. He could, but He didn’t. Why did such a great man have to get what seems one of the cruelest diseases known to man? I have to be okay with this because I am not God. I can’t change the facts. I am only in the middle of the threads being woven. I can’t see the tapestry, so it feels like a hot mess with no rhyme or reason. Yet, in my innermost heart, I know that God is walking with me through the suffering, and is weaving the hot mess into a thing of beauty that will work for good…and one day, on the other side, make perfect sense.

I have asked God, “Didn’t you hear us when we were praying? When the elders anointed him with oil and prayed over him? Wouldn’t this be a perfect opportunity to showcase your power and glory?”

God has time and again shown me that His thoughts are higher than my thoughts. Prayer is the crucible to change me, helping me to see not the scope of my problems, but the greatness of my God.

I borrow words from a recent eulogy given by a preacher named Jonathan Evans for his mother, He described his wrestling with God when God seemed silent to the many prayers offered on her behalf. (I changed the wording to employ masculine pronouns.)

I came to understand that God knows I don’t understand the nature of His victory. The victory has already been won. He tells me He has answered my prayer. There were only two possible answers to my prayers. Either:

He was going to be healed, or he was going to be healed.

He was going to live, or he was going to live.

He was going to be with family, or he was going to be with family.

He was going to be well taken care of, or he was going to be well taken care of.

Yes and yes.

He the Sovereign God. We don’t think the same. He doesn’t need us to tell Him how to get His glory.

 

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace. Of your love. Make sense of the nonsensical. Ease my pain. As I pray these words, I realize that I am making this about my pain, but this is not about me. Or is it? Is that okay, God?  Wyndham is the one who suffered. But oh, God, you know what it is like to watch the one you love suffer and die. Is it worse than actually being the one? Maybe so. I don’t know. It all stinks. Thank you for going before and with me, enduring both sides of the stink; then walking through the stink with me. I will be okay. I am okay. But throughout the okay, it still really stinks.

 

New Chapter, New Year, New Decade

Fittingly, today I finished the last chapter for what will be my book entitled (of course) “Wednesday Wisdom With Wyndham.” I did not feel particularly inspired to write this new chapter; in fact, the blank pages kept staring me in the face as if daring me to type. I have, however, learned that new chapters begin with only one word, that is then followed by another.

Today is a new year. A new decade. I miss my husband fiercely every day, but the pages of life continue to turn and it is up to me to begin writing new chapters. One word at a time. One day at a time. God may smile in agreement with what I write, or He may completely edit my work, as Jesus truly is the author and finisher of my faith. I must only step out on faith in Him, one word, one action, one thought at a time.

Today I plan to spend some extra time alone with God, recounting His love and His faithfulness in creation and to me.

All heaven will praise your great wonders, LORD; myriads of angels will praise you for your faithfulness.
For who in all of heaven can compare with the LORD? What mightiest angel is anything like the LORD?
The highest angelic powers stand in awe of God. He is far more awesome than all who surround his throne.
O LORD God of Heaven’s Armies! Where is there anyone as mighty as you, O LORD? You are entirely faithful.
You rule the oceans. You subdue their storm-tossed waves.
You crushed the great sea monster. You scattered your enemies with your mighty arm.
The heavens are yours, and the earth is yours; everything in the world is yours—you created it all.

Powerful is your arm! Strong is your hand! Your right hand is lifted high in glorious strength.
Righteousness and justice are the foundation of your throne. Unfailing love and truth walk before you as attendants.
Happy are those who hear the joyful call to worship, for they will walk in the light of your presence, LORD.
(Ps 89:5-11, 13-15 NLT)

I will consider His workings (albeit often in mysterious ways different than I would have thought) and His companionship throughout this past year and decade. Though I would never want to repeat this exceedingly difficult year, through it all God remained near. Sometimes I felt despair such as David expressed in the Psalms, but as his songs continued to express, God encompassed me with a love and faithfulness that would not let me go.

Throughout Wyndham’s illness, I felt closeness and dependence on God that was precious and sacred, which I think comes through suffering. I am forever thankful and never want to lose that nearness (though I certainly wish it to remain without the same level of suffering). In the pain of loss, I am happy he never will suffer again.

How priceless is your unfailing love! Both high and low among men find refuge in the shadow of your wings.

They feast on the abundance of your house; you give them drink from your river of delights.
For with you is the fountain of life; in your light we see light.
 Continue your love to those who know you, your righteousness to the upright in heart.
 (Ps 36:7-10)

I pray for your new year and your new chapters to be filled with faith and dreams for glorifying God. Those dreams are the fulfilling ones. God is eager to help us in these.

My friend Rhoda sent me a message this morning that resonated as I begin a new year and new decade.

Hello, welcome to Flight #2020. 

We are prepared to take off into the New Year.

Please make sure your Attitude and Blessings are secured and locked in an upright position.

 All self-destructive devices should be turned off at this time. All negativity, hurt, and discouragement should be put away.

 Should we lose altitude under pressure, during the flight, reach up and pull down a prayer. Prayers will automatically be activated by Faith. Once your Faith is activated you can assist other passengers.

 There will be no Baggage allowed on this flight. The Captain has cleared us for takeoff. (Author unknown)

May you have safe and faithful travels. Happy New Year.

 

 

 

 

Celebration of Life Program that Traveled to Kentucky

 

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart for your prayers and support as we honored Wyndham yesterday. I felt them. Attached is a link to his Celebration of Life service. I am also including a photo of the program, which unfortunately ended up in Kentucky instead of Massachusetts.