Even to the End of Time

The microphone was passed from person to person. Each shared with the congregation the blessings of the week. The last one to take the microphone told how, though an accident had taken place, her loved one had been spared. She concluded her praise with the words, "God is good." As I sat there, the room began to fade and I was taken back in memory to another April morning where I had heard another woman say the words "God is good."

I was not far from my home when it happened. The crash was so sudden I barely missed being part of it. The woman in the car in front of me had been killed. When the police came, my car was encircled by the yellow tape designating the scene of the accident. So I was there when the family gathered.

The grief was tangible; the sorrow brought with it a solemn silence. The silence was broken by a voice that whispered, "God is good." Each person repeated the proclamation until finally the woman beside me turned to me, and with her eyes looking directly into my eyes, she said firmly, "God is good. All the time God is good."

Their words of faith were transcendent. For a brief holy moment it seemed as if the curtains of Heaven were pulled back. I saw a brilliant light; a sapphire throne encircled by a rainbow. The beauty of the rainbow was the result of the light of His presence penetrating the tears of the saints.

The God this grieving family proclaimed as good was acquainted with their sorrows and knew the taste of tears. By His stripes they found healing for their souls. By His blood He purchased for them eternal life. They had put their faith in Jesus and He had given them a blessed hope. The promise was that "They will be His people, and God Himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. Death will exist no longer, grief, crying, and pain will exist no longer, because the previous things have passed away. The One seated on the throne said, 'Look! I am making everything new'" (Revelation 21:3-5).

All the time, even to the end of time, God is good!

The Cup

The rain came and washed away the acrid smell of smoke. The house stood like an empty tomb; the fire had come and made it uninhabitable. It's contents, which had once been symbols of love and hope, were now burnt garbage tossed in the dumpster.

Lyn drove by and surveyed the scene, but something caught her eye. Beside the dumpster there had been placed a small fragile cup blackened by the blaze. Curiosity caused her to stop the car. She went over to the dumpster, picked up the charred cup, and wondered if it could be salvaged.

After my brain surgery I doubted I would ever be able to speak in public again, partly because of my facial paralysis and partly because I was afraid that when they drilled into my skull they had scrambled my brains. Because of this I hesitated when my church asked me to speak at the women's retreat. But I said yes because I believe that light can shine out of darkness.

As I timidly prepared to speak, I was reminded of 2 Corinthians 4:7-15, "Now we have this treasure in clay jars, so that this extraordinary power may be from God and not from us. We are pressured in every way but not crushed; we are perplexed but not in despair; we are persecuted but not abandoned; we are struck down but destroyed...And since we have the same spirit of faith in accordance with what is written, I believed, therefore I spoke."

The day after I spoke,  Lyn handed me a brown bag. Inside the bag I found nestled in the white tissue paper a beautiful, fragile, china cup. It had survived the fire.

What is the difference between humiliation and humility?

In the hospital after my brain surgery I was given mega doses of steroids to keep my brain from swelling. They had to give me hourly insulin shots to protect my pancreas from the steroids. The nurses in the Neuro ICU checked on me every few hours so I was unable to sleep.

For five weeks after my surgery I suffered with insomnia. Because I could not turn my brain off, I ended up struggling with mania. My thoughts came faster and faster until I felt like a marionette. I longed to cut the strings so I could rest, so I could sleep. I felt humiliated and out of control.

I don't believe my life is a random series of events; instead I believe that the Lord is my shepherd and that He is leading me. Sometimes He leads me through difficult places. In Deuteronomy 8:15 it says, "He led you through the great and terrible wilderness with its poisonous snakes and scorpions, a thirsty land where there was no water." Why would a loving God lead me into such nightmares? The answer to that question can be found later in the chapter when it says, "in order to humble and test you, so that in the end He might cause you to prosper."

I don't think that to be humiliated and to be humbled are the same thing. Humiliation carries with it a sense of shame. Humility is when the trials of life show what is in your heart and you come to God with a broken and contrite heart. When I was humiliated, it was because my focus was on myself and my pride. My humiliation was turned to humility when my heart became tender and I let God expose my sin.

Wounded pride will always bring with it a sense of shame and humiliation, but it also brings with it anxiety. Pride makes us think that we are our own god in control of our own destiny; when the circumstances of life prove otherwise, we suffer with anxiety. Our good shepherd leads us into the great and terrible wilderness with its poisonous snakes and scorpions where there is great thirst, not to destroy us, but to set us free. Here in the wilderness-experiences of life we are invited to let go of our pride and take hold of His hand. For those who take hold of His hand, the pain of humiliation is replaced by the grace that accompanies humility. For those who hear His voice and do not harden their heart, He leads them out of their anxiety and into His rest. Those who enter into His rest find rest for body, soul and spirit.