The Lord Is...

 I was the keynote speaker for a Christian camp, but I don't remember what I spoke about that week. What I remember was what someone in attendance shared with me. 

She had come to camp with her adult disabled daughter who needed constant care. She was from a well-respected family in the Christian community, but her world had begun to unravel. Her husband had recently left her for someone he had met online. The woman who had been her daughter's caregiver was dying. The landscape of her life had completely changed.

I can still see her standing in front of me as I prepared to speak that morning. She asked if she could share her thoughts with me. In a quiet and peaceful voice, she told me that during this turbulent time in her life that she continually meditated on Psalm 23. She told me that she had found rest for her soul meditating on the first three words of the Psalm, "The Lord is..."  

During my own times of desperation, I have experienced the peace that this reality brings. It reminds me of what God told Moses to tell the people who were enslaved in Egypt. He said to tell Israel that, "I AM has sent you."(Exodus 3:14) The children of Israel were set free from Egypt so that they could learn to worship in the wilderness. It's in the wilderness that we discover the Lord who is the great I AM.

"God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore, we will not fear though the earth gives way, though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble at its swelling. Selah" (Psalm 46:1-3) Many Bible students believe that selah was a musical term that that meant to "pause" or "contemplate". When the flow of life is interrupted with harsh realities, we are invited to encounter the Lord who is...

Discovering Grace

 Love doesn't envy.

I was reminded of this Bible verse while sitting with my grandson at his cousin's birthday party. Almost every time a gift was opened, he would honestly express his jealousy. I respect how his parents have taught him to own his emotions. Sitting with him I was remined of how I was tormented by envy as a child.

I was eleven years old and spending the winter with my grandmother. I shared my grandmother with my four brothers and four sisters so getting to have individual time with her was very special. However, during this time she only had one thing on her mind, and it wasn't me. Grandmother was looking forward to meeting her two grandchildren, Margaret and Brian, who had been born on the mission field in Brazil.

I was miserable. I didn't want to be jealous, but I was.  I tried to be excited but all I felt was the torturous envy, so I prayed. It was a simple prayer, "Jesus, I want to love my cousins, but I don't know how. Please help me." God answered my prayer and did for me what I was unable to do for myself.

I learned so many things from that experience. God is love. Love doesn't envy. Confession means to say the same thing about something that God says. When God does for you what you can't do for yourself it's called grace. When God graciously answered my prayer and gave me love for my cousins, He also gave me peace. 

I want to share this memory of grace and peace and love with my grandson. I believe that our honest struggles can become the very places where we encounter God.

50 YEARS

Five years ago Steve and I began to dream and plan for today. Today would have been out fiftieth wedding anniversary if Steve had lived. The day I had looked forward to became a day I was dreading. I have a great deal to be grateful for but grief is real and Steve isn't here to celebrate with.

To be honest, I just wasn't sure what to do or how to handle the overwhelming clash of emotions. Tears came easy but even though Steve isn't here to celebrate with me I didn't want to spend the whole day crying. I picked my Bible up and began reading where I left off yesterday.

In 2 Chronicles 20 there is the story of King Jehoshaphat who was faced with battle. He was outnumbered and felt powerless against what he was facing. I could relate. The prayer he brought to God was humble and honest. God responded to the king by telling him not to be dismayed. He was to stand firm, hold his position and trust that God was with him.

When the day of battle came the king appointed those who were to sing to the Lord and praise Him to go before the army and saying, "Give thanks to the Lord, for his steadfast love endures forever." As I write this it's 7 PM the very hour that Steve and I got married. Today has been filled with tears and thanksgiving for the love Steve and I shared and for the steadfast love of God.

The words to this song have been playing in my mind all day:

When you're up against the struggle that shatters all your dreams

When you hopes have been cruelly crushed by Satan's manifested schemes

And when you feel the urge within you to submit to earthly fears

And the faith you've been standin' in just seems to disappear

Praise the Lord

He can work through those who praise Him

Praise the Lord

For our God inhabits praise

Praise the Lord

For the chains that seem to bind you

Serve only to remind you, that they drop powerless behind you

When you praise

 

The Cross Road

 I have found on this journey of grief that I am constantly coming to a cross road. Yesterday I went to the cemetery and found that the grave stone had not been placed because the rain had made the ground too muddy. This represented stone cold sorrow.

On the way home I found trillium growing by the side of the road. From the first year Steve and I met we would go on a treasure hunt in April looking for trillium. It was a treasure hunt because trillium grows in the woods. I’ve never seen it growing on the side of the road before. For me trillium represents living hope.

I’m writing this on Holy Saturday. It is the day between when we remember Jesus’ crucifixion and His resurrection. It is a day to sit with sorrow. A day when you don’t rush past the grave but instead pause long enough to acknowledge the pain of grief and reality of death. Grief and sorrow are part of the story.

This is the cross road where I find myself. Roads lead somewhere. I have to choose either to stay in the graveyard looking at stone cold sorrow or turn my gaze to the trillium that represents living hope.

I choose hope. I choose to believe that because of the resurrection one day in the future a trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised incorruptible, and we will be changed. I choose to believe that when this corruptible is clothed with incorruptibility, and this mortal is clothed with immortality, that death will also be swallowed up in victory.

 Oh grave where is your victory? Oh death where is your sting? Today I sit with sorrow but sorrow is not my destination I choose the road that leads to a living hope!

Rejoicing in Hope

 This will be my first Christmas since Steve’s death. It is a very tender time. I go out on my porch and watch the sun rise and listen to Handle’s Messiah. Grief allows me to listen with a depth I’ve never experienced before. 

As I rock back and forth I feel cradled by the love of God. I watch the darkness of night replaced as the morning star arises. Though my tears flow freely I feel the invitation to rejoice in hope.

Etched into my memory are my last moments with Steve. Watching him take his final breath watching as the pulse in his neck slowly came to a stop. Releasing him to the hope of the resurrection.

Today I was listening to Chuck Swindol and heard a prayer about when Jesus gave up His spirit in the cross. “Yes take him home my Father. Take the Prince to His King. Take the Son to His Father. Take the pilgrim home, He deserves a rest. Come 10,000 angels! Come take this wounded troubadour to the cradle of His Father’s arms! Farewell manger infant. Bless you Holy Ambassador. Go home death slayer. Rest well sweet soldier. The battle is over. Amen”

To rejoice in hope is to live in the now and not yet. I will not be able to enter into the merriment of the holiday season but I will be able to celebrate the truth that the baby who was born in the manger will come again as the King who conquered death!

 Child of My love, fear not the unknown morrow,

Dread not the new demand life makes of thee;

Thine ignorance doth hold no cause for sorrow,

For what thou knowest not is known to Me.

I threw away Steve’s toothbrush. When the bag was placed in the dumpster I had an overwhelming urge to dig through the garbage until I could find his toothbrush and put it back where it belonged. People tell me that there is no wrong way to grieve. That may be true but nothing about this feels right. 

Forty nine years ago I met Steve on a blind date. From that day on all my tomorrows included Steve. Now he’s gone. I found myself quoting a poem that I memorized when I was leaving home for the first time. I find in this poem a divine comfort knowing that what is unknown to me is known by my Heavenly Father.

Until Death Do We Part

“I Sarah, take you, Steve, to be my husband, and I promise and covenant, before God and these witnesses, to be your loving and faithful wife, I will live together with you in joy and in sorrow, in sickness and in health, until death do we part.” I was 21, Steve was 23 when we entered into this marriage covenant. On May 9,2022 our covenant ended when Steve’s heart stopped beating.

I took a magic marker on our wedding trip. Steve had cancer and was taking radiation treatment. Every time we went swimming together I had to redraw the lines where he needed radiation. On our first anniversary he had competed his chemotherapy. I worked during the day and took care of him at night. The stress and lack of sleep caused me to have a nervous  breakdown. He took care of me until I recovered. Our next anniversary was spent working at Yellowstone National Park. “I will together with you in sickness and in health.”

Steve was with me for the birth of our four children. We shared the miracle of life, and I watched him as he tenderly held his children. We both wept as he dug the grave for Belle Marie here on the farm. I remember his words of comfort as we placed her little coffin in the ground. “Time doesn’t heal all wounds, but God will.” He comforted me during the loss of two more children. “I will live together with you in joy and in sorrow.”

If the covenant I made so many years ago had only been with Steve, I don’t know if it would have survived. I failed him often. Our humanity and selfishness caused us to hurt each other in many ways. However this covenant was made with God as well. “The steps of a man are established by the Lord, when he delights in his way; though he fall, he shall not be cast headlong, for the Lord upholds his hand”(Psa 37:23-24)

I promised to love, comfort, honor and keep Steve as my wedding husband until death parted us. Death has parted us and for the first time in 48 years I’ll be alone on June 8, our anniversary. Even though Steve won’t be here to celebrate with me I will still celebrate. I will celebrate the life we built together in covenant with God and each other.