7 Truths On Which to Dwell on the Hard Days {And Every Day}

This is always a hard day for me. The story behind that is not entirely mine to tell, and therefore I'll leave it at that. These thoughts are pulled from something I wrote several years ago on this date which had far too many details for general publication. This year as I was re-reading it, I decided to pull out the important parts and redesign them into something post-able, leaving out the more personal bits that don't need to be shared.

There are many memories associated with this day...memories that used to be good, but that now bring  a grapefruit-sized lump in the throat, a dagger-like sensation in the chest, and a frantic feeling of needing oxygen upon the slightest attempt to remember.

A wise older man once said to a friend of mine, “There are things worse than death.”  I think of that this morning as I sit wishing that the good memories weren’t tainted with such horrible, horrible stains, like photos that have mildewed under a leaky roof.

Things worse than death indeed.

This day always brings up questions...lots of questions. Questions that, if I let them, could send me into a lasting catatonic state. 

They flit into my head and I have to immediately shuttle them back out. I cannot dwell on any of them. Like another recent tragedy that has hit very close to home, I know there are no answers, and that there will never be this side of Heaven. Therefore, the questions must not be allowed to invade.  The truths I must dwell on, today and always, are these:

*God knew every jot and tittle of every circumstance that has occurred before any of it came to be. In fact, He knew this before the foundation of the world!

*God is not taken by surprise…not one iota…by any of the circumstances that shock us and send us reeling. 

*God loves our children even more than we do, and He has a plan for them…a plan for good and not for evil, a plan to give them a future and a hope. (Jer. 29:11)

*God loves those who have done evil to us. Their sin is not past being forgiven. They are no more and no less sinners than I am, or than any other person on earth, alive or dead. We are all sinners.  Our sin...all sin...is heinous…even though some may not appear as heinous as others. The difference is, we have experienced His grace and mercy, and been transformed into new creatures...not because of anything we have done, or any good in us, but because of His work in us.

*God is sovereign. God is good. God has already triumphed over evil. And He tells us in His Word that He carries us in the palm of His hand. He never left any of us for one minute during the worst of the dark days. He promises us that in His Word…that He will never leave us or forsake us. 

*He has kept our tears in a bottle! (Psalm 56:8) He cares for our pain! And one day, He will wipe away all tears from our eyes. There will be no more death, or mourning, or crying, or pain. (Rev. 21:4) What a tremendous thought for those who belong to Him.

*My responsibility now? To worship and obey. To be the wife and mother God has called me to be. To be ready and willing to share Him at any opportunity. The words to the chorus we’ve sung so often this year flood my mind again this morning. When I don’t understand, my response should be worship. The things I don’t understand…the unanswered questions that are always just below the surface…these are constant reminders of His greatness, and my weakness. His ways are higher than our ways. He is holy, and sovereign, and all-powerful, and all-wise, and I am not.  He sees the past, present, and future clearly, and orchestrates it all in His power, while we see through a glass dimly. 

Worship, obey, believe, and press on. 

“Bow the knee.  Trust the heart of your Father when the answer goes beyond what you can see.  Bow the knee.  Lift your eyes toward Heaven and believe the One who holds eternity.  And when you don’t understand, the purpose of His plan, In the presence of the King, Bow the knee.”

~Chris Machen

But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 3: 13-14

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In "Other" Words...Loneliness

I can't believe it's been over a week since I've posted! I had plans for a whole week's worth of posts last week, and was especially excited about last week's In "Other" Words quote by C. S. Lewis. Then I got sick. Or maybe make that SICK. Why is it that I either am really motivated to blog and don't have time, or have the time and am too tired/brain fogged/whatever else to blog? I managed to get a (late) book review posted, and apparently used up all available brain cells to do that. ;-) So I have much more to share...hopefully this week I'll have time and brainpower together long enough to whittle down my "to blog" list a bit!

“Rather than turn from loneliness,
what if we turned toward it?
Could it be that loneliness is not a curse
but a gift?
A gift from God?”

~Max Lucado,
Traveling Light: The Promise of Psalm 23

I did somewhat of a double-take on this quote when I first read it. My initial reaction was "Well, that is one thing I have been blessed with during the past few years...it has not been a season of loneliness."

I have had very definite seasons of loneliness in my life, but they have been few and far between. Between being richly blessed with close friends *almost* continually since meeting Susan and Julianne when we were three :), and having grown up in a very close-knit family, loneliness was somewhat brief and episodic in my life. The year we lived in Russellville, when I was in the sixth grade, and I spent the entire year praying to move back to Conway (which we did the following summer :)). My early days in Fort Smith after college, when I missed family, friends, and church immensely. These and other "bursts" of loneliness had definitely shown me that loneliness can be a blessing as well as a curse. That sixth grade year in Russellville especially was a year of tremendous growth for a young adolescent girl experiencing the culture shock of a new church and school.

But one of the things I've been most thankful for during the past few years of turmoil here has been the tiny group of very close friends who have "been there" for us in ways we could never have imagined before. I hear and read about people going through severely hard times with no support system and am constantly reminded how blessed we've been and how grateful I am. I am also reminded of how many people go through difficult days with an unbelieving or unsupportive spouse, or no spouse at all...and I am so thankful for Billy, who has been my rock of strength and my soft cushion of comfort, even as he has been right in the midst of the searing pain himself.

A little deeper thought, however, brought awareness of times of intense loneliness during the past few years...times that have been glaring reminders of the old saying about being lonely in a crowd full of people. I remembered the times I have told my two friends, who have stood on either side of me and almost literally propped me up at times during the past few years, that while I was more thankful than they would ever know for the ways they have been there for me, there are times when I would give almost anything for someone who has actually walked in our shoes. These friends have been amazingly understanding in their sharing of our burdens...but there have still been times I have literally ached for somone who could say, "I've been there. I know what you're going through. I know how you feel." How I would love to be able to "pick someone's brain" and ask "How did you handle this? Did you ever feel like this? Do you have any suggestions for this part?"

There have been other aches of loneliness during these years, too. I grew up with a very close and connected extended family, but my children's experience of extended family is much different than I expected it to be. Some of my biggest struggles with discontent in the past few years have been over this very issue. A friend mentioning a family get-together, photos of long-ago family friends on Facebook with their grandchildren, memories of my childhood holidays...little things that can send me straight into pity party mode if I'm not careful. And then there are those days when I would give anything and everything for an hour with my dad...when my thankfulness that he hasn't been here for the events of the past few years is overcome by longing for just a tiny bit of his encouragement and wisdom.

Loneliness hasn't been as much a stranger as I sometimes think.

And yet, I have definitely seen God working in that loneliness. We have truly learned to turn to Him in ways we otherwise wouldn't have. During times when we have desperately sought wise counsel and come up empty, we have learned first hand the truth of Jesus as the "Wonderful Counselor" spoken of in Isaiah 9:6. During times when I have ached for a hug and wise words from my dad, God has shown Himself faithful as the "Father to the Fatherless" promised in Psalm 68:5. In the times when my heart has broken over the pain my children were going through, when I have felt so woefully inadequate as a parent to deal with that pain, God has reminded me that He watched His innocent Child go through unimaginable pain...and that He went through that pain because of His love for *us*. He has reminded me in those times that He loves my children even more than I ever could...and that He is in control and is working His plan for good in their lives.

I am so very thankful for my husband, my travelling companion on this journey neither of us could ever have foreseen, and which we would never have chosen. I am so thankful for the handful of people who didn't have to walk this road with us, but who have chosen (or been chosen to :)) walk along-side us as burden-sharers. And I am, albeit a bit hesitantly, thankful for the gift of loneliness...one which would never have gone on any wishlist, and yet *is* still, amazingly, a gift.

To see others' thoughts on this week's In "Other" Words quote, visit Patricia at Typing One-Handed. Thanks to Patricia for hosting this week, and to Loni at Writing Canvas for her leadership of In "Other" Words. I'm excited to now be part of the In "Other" Words hostess team, and looking forward to hosting on September 29!

Thankful Thursday--Sovreignty of God

I am thankful this morning to have been reminded again that *nothing* takes God by surprise.

He has reminded me over and over of that in recent months. As I read this Thankful Thursday post, I thought as I have thought often recently, that God's Sovreignty can at times be very painful. That has been a new realization this year. When we have experienced trials in the past, the Sovreignty of God has always been a comfort...but I have discovered through this past year that there are sufferings of a depth that can truly make the Sovreignty of God *hurt*. However, I am so thankful that that realization has come hand in hand with realizing God's love on a whole new level. He has shown me that the pain of His Sovreignty is always accompanied by the immensity of His Love and Care. He truly does "carry us close to His Heart as a Shepherd" (Isa. 40:11).

Robin Sampson posted this quote from Warren Wiersbe in her Thankful Thursday post this week...I am thankful that God led her to post and led me to see them, as I *needed* these words today:

“If we only endure our trials, then trials become our master, and we have a tendency to become hard and bitter. If we try to escape our trials, then we will probably miss the purposes God wants to achieve in our lives. But if we learn to enlist our trials, they will become our servants instead of our masters and work for us; and God will work all things together for our good and His glory. (Rom. 8:28).”

I am thankful this morning that no matter how hard the day or how blah my mood, God always reminds me of His incredible blessings if I will just stop long enough to be reminded. I'm thankful for Thankful Thursday giving a *push* to stop and let Him remind me.

Incredible Love

We are working on another song by Stuart Townend in adult choir right now... How Deep the Father's Love for Us. The first time we sang it, I thought it was beautiful, and looked down to see who it was written by...and realized it was written by the same person who wrote my very *favorite* song we have done in choir this year (The Power of the Cross). Not only are both of these songs musical *dreams* for an alto (some beautiful low melody parts in addition to gorgeous harmonies), but the words are incredible. God continues to amaze me with new realizations of the true depth of His love. And He continues to remind me of the *truth* and *reality* of His Sovreignty. I have struggled with the Sovreignty of God this year more than any other, but through those struggles, I have become convinced that suffering is indeed necessary for us to gain a deeper understanding of God's love for us.

"How deep the Father's love for us
How vast beyond all measure...

How great the pain of searing loss
The Father turns His face away
As wounds which mar the Chosen One
Bring many sons to glory

...Ashamed I hear my mocking voice
Call out among the scoffers...."

(Exerpted from How Deep the Father's Love for Us, by Stuart Townend)

When we first began working on this song, I had just had a conversation with a friend about God's sovreignty and goodness and human suffering. It is hard for us as finite humans sometimes (all the time?) to reconcile the suffering of children with the Goodness and Sovreignty of God. She shared that it was much easier for her to accept the suffering adults experience than the suffering of innocent children. I have struggled with that as well. We have watched a number of *innocent children* suffer...including our own. We watched our youngest go through intense physical suffering during the first 6 weeks of life, enduring medical procedures that send adults into anxiety attacks, and acquiring scars that may be visible for the rest of her life. Our older children have gone through periods of extreme emotional suffering due to various family crises. I have spent a lot of time pondering why God allows *innocent children* to suffer, both before and after the conversation with my friend. I certainly don't have an easy answer. But God has brought me a long way in this area, and because we are dealing with some long term issues involving the suffering of children, I know that He will continue to lead in this area.

One thing I have realized about the suffering of children is this: the suffering of my children gets my attention faster than anything else. God has taught *me* more through the suffering of my children than through any other suffering I have experienced. I have clung to Him more for wisdom and strength in helping my children through their suffering than I ever would have otherwise. And I have learned more about God's love for us as our Heavenly Father through the experience of watching my children suffer.

When Ammah Grace was still in NICU, I had the most vivid realization of the immensity of God's love for us that I had ever had up to that point. She was several weeks old, and it was our first time to actually be *alone*...she was finally stable enough for me to take her into the nursing mother's area and be in the privacy of a curtained cubicle. I was finally able to just sit with my baby and examine all of her little fingers and toes as I had done with all of my other children in the first few hours of life. As I sat marvelling at how tiny she still was...although she had already gained almost a pound by that time...I noticed something I had never seen on my other children. Scars. Little tiny scars, on her hands, and on her feet. Scars from multiple IVs and other tests and procedures I didn't even want to think about. I was suddenly overwhelmed at how much suffering this little girl had already experienced in her very first weeks of life. I remembered the agony I had gone through a couple of weeks earlier, giving permission by phone for her to undergo a spinal tap...not a pleasant procedure for anyone, much less a tiny baby. I remembered having the crazy urge to jump in the van and drive the 2 1/2 hours to the hospital because I couldn't stand the thought of her going through the procedure alone, despite the fact that the doctor had said they needed to do it immediately. (I had gone home for a week or so to get things settled before going back to Little Rock to stay for the duration of her stay in NICU.)

Tears flooded down my face as I ached for the suffering this child had endured...as I contemplated the suffering that could be still to come for her...and as I realized again my complete and total inability to do anything about any of it. In the midst of my tears, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the thought of another Parent who had wept over His Child's scars. God quietly reminded me that He, too, had experienced the pain of seeing scars on the hands and feet of His Child. He, too, had known the pain of allowing His Son to suffer alone...not being there to comfort Him in the worst time of suffering that He...that any man...had ever experienced.

And then He reminded me of this: He didn't have to.

As I struggled with my total helplessness to control the suffering my child had already experienced and would experience in the future, I realized that God didn't *have* to see His Son suffer. He could have, with a word, released Him from that suffering. Jesus Himself could have called "10,000 angels...to destroy the world and set Him free." But...God willingly watched His only Son suffer and die at the hands of evil men...He turned His face away as Jesus took on the sin of the world that He couldn't even look upon...and He did it for *us*. Sinful, evil, miserable, ungrateful people. People that He loved enough to die for. I realized in that moment that there was no one in the world that I could have *willingly allowed* this little girl to endure that kind of suffering for. I knew that I would have done anything in my power to keep her from having to experience the suffering she had experienced.

And at that moment, I realized in a way I had never realized before how deep the Father's love for us...for me...really is. The lyrics of this song express what I felt that day...and what I feel every time I think about those teeny, tiny scars...so perfectly. What incredible word pictures...about an Incredible Love.