It has been a while since I have blogged. Have lots to say, just need to get it all worked out in my head.
So, today, instead of writing about grief, I am going to write something positive. This is more of a journal entry about God's amazing faithfulness. I love looking back and seeing His fingerprints everywhere.
I had a wonderful day at Church today. A couple weeks ago, I noticed our Pastor looking around for someone to help counsel a young woman who had responded during the Invitation. And it hit me. I can help. I love Evangelism, isn't that what we are called to do. I love sharing Christ with people. Here I am, at my Church, equipped and ready to share and have not been in this specific setting. Well, that had to stop. So, I told Matt the next day. Hey, I want to be available, expectant and ready, for people who want to know Christ! This seems so obvious... and is a HUGE need, and not just in the Church during Invitation. Just look at our world. OY! However, for me, right now, I can do this specifically!
LIVE IT OUT!
So, this morning, I went down with Matt, waiting and praying for lives to be changed. Sure enough, I got my "New Hallelujah!" (Michael W. Smith)
Let us sing love to the nations
Bringing hope of the grace that has freed us
Make Him known and make Him famous
Sing it out sing a new Hallelujah
Chorus
Arise!!!
Let the church Arise
Let love reach to the other side
Alive come alive
Let the song Arise
We sang this song this morning. It is quite appropriate for me today. I found my new Hallelujah again!
This young woman was such a blessing to me. She got saved! GLORY to God! HALLELUJAH!!! There was a party in Heaven, right at that moment! (Luke 15:7) She now has life and hope in Christ! I don't know about you, but seeing this happen in a person's life NEVER gets old! I even have a new perspective on Heaven now to share. I have always talked about the "happily ever after forever after," but now, it is SO much more personal. I appreciate this young woman listening to my "ramblings." We got to cry together and she got saved!!! Did I mention that?!!! What a great time to come to Jesus! She plans to get baptized on Easter Sunday, seriously! Makes me so happy!
I cannot just sing about having passion to make Him known and not do anything about it. Today, I was called to Arise again! And I don't want to ever tire of doing just that! It makes me come alive! Thrills my heart. (Insert very exciting terms here!) All this to say, even in my grief, the Lord gave me a new Hallelujah (which has been a difficult word for me to say) but I am so grateful! HALLELUJAH!!!
Thank You, Lord, for the hope we have in You.
All of life comes down to just one thing, that's to know You, oh Jesus, and make You known! ("Single-minded" by Charlie Hall)
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Questions with no answers by Jay Douglas
My Dad wrote something that I thought needed to be included in my blog. It is a perspective on all the random questions people ask. Thought it was good enough to type up. There are no answers, just questions. This is appropriate for grief. Sometimes it is good just to write it all out. He says he will not explain himself anymore and does not have all the answers. Wise man.
Questions with no answers by Jay Douglas
Why not do it different?
Did she suffer?
Was she happy?
Was she angry?
Why did this happen?
Was it a show?
Why couldn't you fix this?
Did you ask God?
Did you pray?
Was there an answer?
Who's business is it?
Is she better off?
How long have you known?
Was the family happy?
Did they agree?
Were they angry?
Did they get an answer?
Do you think she would like it like this?
Do you remember?
Did you do what she wanted?
How could you tell?
Did she fight it?
How are you doing?
What are you going to do?
How long ago?
Can you sleep?
Do you eat?
Are you back to work?
How can we help?
Is there anything you need?
Do you miss her?
Are you angry?
Are you still sad?
How are you holding up?
Do you feel guilty?
How come it wasn't you?
Will you finish the house?
Are you seeing anyone?
Are you lonely?
What's wrong with you?
Do you blame God?
Do you blame her?
Did you give her your best?
Is there anything left?
I thought these questions were interesting. Definitely could go in a book about what not to say to people who are grieving.
Questions with no answers by Jay Douglas
Why not do it different?
Did she suffer?
Was she happy?
Was she angry?
Why did this happen?
Was it a show?
Why couldn't you fix this?
Did you ask God?
Did you pray?
Was there an answer?
Who's business is it?
Is she better off?
How long have you known?
Was the family happy?
Did they agree?
Were they angry?
Did they get an answer?
Do you think she would like it like this?
Do you remember?
Did you do what she wanted?
How could you tell?
Did she fight it?
How are you doing?
What are you going to do?
How long ago?
Can you sleep?
Do you eat?
Are you back to work?
How can we help?
Is there anything you need?
Do you miss her?
Are you angry?
Are you still sad?
How are you holding up?
Do you feel guilty?
How come it wasn't you?
Will you finish the house?
Are you seeing anyone?
Are you lonely?
What's wrong with you?
Do you blame God?
Do you blame her?
Did you give her your best?
Is there anything left?
I thought these questions were interesting. Definitely could go in a book about what not to say to people who are grieving.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Life is what happens to you when you're busy making other plans
I have been having a hard time lately. Nothing specific, just sad. Things trigger it. It could be something small or something extremely significant.
We redecorated our guest room. That is where my Mom was until her last day. I took down the pictures that we had put up for her to look at. I had put up a picture of her for the Hospice nurses to see, along with a page of things for them to take note of. All that is gone now. The room looks different, which I guess is OK. There is a frame of Disney memories, with a picture of her at the center.
We also gave her clothes to my Aunt. Bless Matt's heart. He packed them up for us. My Dad and I could barely look at the clothes. I kept a couple of shirts that had special meaning to us. I am trying to think of something creative to do with them. I don't sew, so I will probably frame them or something. I don't know.
We went to Branson over Spring Break for my Granny's 80th Birthday. It just feels like there is something missing on these kinds of trips.
We have also been Spring cleaning. It is amazing the things you find.
And, we planted some perennial flowers and lavender; bright purples and pinks. They cheer up our house and look really pretty. My Mom liked to plant flowers. I was out at their property the other day and saw some daffodils all over in random places. She planted those. It is cool that every year they will come back.
There is a lot of work to do still. Dad has said he knows we need to start going through her stuff. I guess we have just been postponing the inevitable. It is just hard.
Today, when Dad showed up, he said he has been having a hard time this week too. Interesting. Actually, he said this week has been the hardest so far. For him, he has been trying to finish their house. I think we have him convinced that he needs to hire it out. There is nothing holding him in Chandler, never was before and especially, not now. We are really wanting the Wellston house to get done, so Chateau Jan Marie can become official. He is planning to continue their gardens. He has lots of vegetables growing. And now, he is talking about planting a vineyard, which I think would be super cool. But, still, it is hard.
There is just really no getting over this. You can't just move on. We are both definitely still frozen in time. But, life keeps moving forward, with or without your permission...
We redecorated our guest room. That is where my Mom was until her last day. I took down the pictures that we had put up for her to look at. I had put up a picture of her for the Hospice nurses to see, along with a page of things for them to take note of. All that is gone now. The room looks different, which I guess is OK. There is a frame of Disney memories, with a picture of her at the center.
We also gave her clothes to my Aunt. Bless Matt's heart. He packed them up for us. My Dad and I could barely look at the clothes. I kept a couple of shirts that had special meaning to us. I am trying to think of something creative to do with them. I don't sew, so I will probably frame them or something. I don't know.
We went to Branson over Spring Break for my Granny's 80th Birthday. It just feels like there is something missing on these kinds of trips.
We have also been Spring cleaning. It is amazing the things you find.
And, we planted some perennial flowers and lavender; bright purples and pinks. They cheer up our house and look really pretty. My Mom liked to plant flowers. I was out at their property the other day and saw some daffodils all over in random places. She planted those. It is cool that every year they will come back.
There is a lot of work to do still. Dad has said he knows we need to start going through her stuff. I guess we have just been postponing the inevitable. It is just hard.
Today, when Dad showed up, he said he has been having a hard time this week too. Interesting. Actually, he said this week has been the hardest so far. For him, he has been trying to finish their house. I think we have him convinced that he needs to hire it out. There is nothing holding him in Chandler, never was before and especially, not now. We are really wanting the Wellston house to get done, so Chateau Jan Marie can become official. He is planning to continue their gardens. He has lots of vegetables growing. And now, he is talking about planting a vineyard, which I think would be super cool. But, still, it is hard.
There is just really no getting over this. You can't just move on. We are both definitely still frozen in time. But, life keeps moving forward, with or without your permission...
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Crazy Dreams
This post is just for me. I started this blog to remember things about what happened with my Mom. So, we are back tracking a bit. Again, some of these posts are just for my own memory keeping.
Apparently, one of the side effects of large doses of morphine is crazy, hallucination dreams. (It also causes you to see spiders or things crawling around on the walls. It was hard to see her fearful. I would take the "spiders" out of her room and throw them at Matt and Dad.)
Anyway, back to the crazy dreams... My Dad had noticed it one night, saying that she was dreaming they were back in Willard, very early on in their relationship. He said she was mad at him as usual. LOL!
My first encounter with the wild dreams was one night her looking up at me and asking if they had the code.
Me: What code?
Her: The code to get the Pilot down.
Me: What?
Her: FOON 124. Tell Tyrone the code. They need to get it to the Pilot. Has he made it safely down? Is everyone OK?
Me: ...???...
Her: Something about "Baffoon." I really need you to get the code to Tyrone. FOON 124.
Me: (Trying to change subjects, then just having to leave the room to not laugh in her face. She was so serious!)
...about 5-10 minutes go by... I go back in the room.
Me: How are you doing?
Her: I really need to know. Did they save the Pilot? Is everyone on the plane OK?
Me: (Finally deciding to just go with it) Yes, everyone is fine. The Pilot is fine. The code worked. Everyone is OK and it is all because of you.
(I was so trying to come up with some fascinating numerology reason for 124... oh well!)
Another interesting thing happened. My friend, Mandy, had her baby boy 5 weeks early. This happened shortly after my parents moved in with us. I found out the night Mandy delivered from Facebook and immediately told Matt and my Dad. We were all out in the living room. My Mom was in her room with the door closed, TV on, and asleep. The next morning I went into her room. She was still resting. She woke up, startled, looked at me and said out loud. "Mandy had her baby!" I looked at my Dad and asked him if he told her. He looked at me, surprised, and said he didn't tell her. She had been asleep all night. Interesting! She laughed, acting like we should not be shocked that she was having prophetic dreams. Oh and by the way, Mandy's son is just fine, happy and healthy. At the time, I am sure it freaked out Mandy when I told her about what had happened. Sorry Mandy! Mandy is my longest friend. So, I do have to say that I think it is cool that my Mom's angels are partying it up in Heaven with Mandy's son's angels, connected forever. I don't understand all this, but I like to think that it is true somehow. Pretty special.
Apparently, one of the side effects of large doses of morphine is crazy, hallucination dreams. (It also causes you to see spiders or things crawling around on the walls. It was hard to see her fearful. I would take the "spiders" out of her room and throw them at Matt and Dad.)
Anyway, back to the crazy dreams... My Dad had noticed it one night, saying that she was dreaming they were back in Willard, very early on in their relationship. He said she was mad at him as usual. LOL!
My first encounter with the wild dreams was one night her looking up at me and asking if they had the code.
Me: What code?
Her: The code to get the Pilot down.
Me: What?
Her: FOON 124. Tell Tyrone the code. They need to get it to the Pilot. Has he made it safely down? Is everyone OK?
Me: ...???...
Her: Something about "Baffoon." I really need you to get the code to Tyrone. FOON 124.
Me: (Trying to change subjects, then just having to leave the room to not laugh in her face. She was so serious!)
...about 5-10 minutes go by... I go back in the room.
Me: How are you doing?
Her: I really need to know. Did they save the Pilot? Is everyone on the plane OK?
Me: (Finally deciding to just go with it) Yes, everyone is fine. The Pilot is fine. The code worked. Everyone is OK and it is all because of you.
(I was so trying to come up with some fascinating numerology reason for 124... oh well!)
Another interesting thing happened. My friend, Mandy, had her baby boy 5 weeks early. This happened shortly after my parents moved in with us. I found out the night Mandy delivered from Facebook and immediately told Matt and my Dad. We were all out in the living room. My Mom was in her room with the door closed, TV on, and asleep. The next morning I went into her room. She was still resting. She woke up, startled, looked at me and said out loud. "Mandy had her baby!" I looked at my Dad and asked him if he told her. He looked at me, surprised, and said he didn't tell her. She had been asleep all night. Interesting! She laughed, acting like we should not be shocked that she was having prophetic dreams. Oh and by the way, Mandy's son is just fine, happy and healthy. At the time, I am sure it freaked out Mandy when I told her about what had happened. Sorry Mandy! Mandy is my longest friend. So, I do have to say that I think it is cool that my Mom's angels are partying it up in Heaven with Mandy's son's angels, connected forever. I don't understand all this, but I like to think that it is true somehow. Pretty special.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
I'm not going to be out-praised by a whale
Recently, I heard Louie Giglio speak about how all of creation literally cries out in praise to God. He had sounds from whales and stars in the sky. I know that sounds strange, but something he said challenged me... "I'm not going to be out-praised by a whale."
Here is the deal. The Heavens and Earth are still proclaiming His wonders, splendor and majesty... with or without me. And I do not want to be out-praised by a whale or anything else for that matter.
I have been holding back over the last months. Grief does that. I had not raised my hands to Jesus in a while. I could say it was because I didn't have the strength, but that is not entirely true. Selfishly, it is easier to be sad. I knew that I was not in full surrender. It was very intentional. Sorrow can consume you. When you are grieving, sometimes you feel guilty for enjoying anything. Miserable becomes familiar. I read a Beth Moore devotion that talked about our "pits" starting to become comfortable, almost a life style. Dangerous ground. The truth is, this doesn't hurt God, it hurts me. It is exhausting to try to hold back praise to my Lord, even in my pit.
I have been having some break throughs, instead of just break downs. This is progress. Some things progress naturally. Some things take more time. I am becoming more willing to let healing begin. For me, worship music is some of the best medicine.
"God has absolutely no need of our offerings... We cannot even offer a simple song of praise without using the breath God first gave to us... There are some incredible painful struggles in this life, and hard questions to which we may never fully know the answer. Yet even in these dark hours, we must accept that God is God, and as such, He never owes us an answer... Here is the all-sufficient Creator of the universe who could get along just fine without our little contributions. And yet He rejoices and delights in every adoring response to Him. It is the joy of a doting Father over a cherished child. It is the pleasure of a mighty King over a faithful and treasured servant. Just as we cannot begin to imagine the heights and depths of His great glory, so too we cannot begin to fathom the infinite measures of His fatherly love and grace." (Facedown by Matt Redman)
Here is the deal. The Heavens and Earth are still proclaiming His wonders, splendor and majesty... with or without me. And I do not want to be out-praised by a whale or anything else for that matter.
I have been holding back over the last months. Grief does that. I had not raised my hands to Jesus in a while. I could say it was because I didn't have the strength, but that is not entirely true. Selfishly, it is easier to be sad. I knew that I was not in full surrender. It was very intentional. Sorrow can consume you. When you are grieving, sometimes you feel guilty for enjoying anything. Miserable becomes familiar. I read a Beth Moore devotion that talked about our "pits" starting to become comfortable, almost a life style. Dangerous ground. The truth is, this doesn't hurt God, it hurts me. It is exhausting to try to hold back praise to my Lord, even in my pit.
I have been having some break throughs, instead of just break downs. This is progress. Some things progress naturally. Some things take more time. I am becoming more willing to let healing begin. For me, worship music is some of the best medicine.
"God has absolutely no need of our offerings... We cannot even offer a simple song of praise without using the breath God first gave to us... There are some incredible painful struggles in this life, and hard questions to which we may never fully know the answer. Yet even in these dark hours, we must accept that God is God, and as such, He never owes us an answer... Here is the all-sufficient Creator of the universe who could get along just fine without our little contributions. And yet He rejoices and delights in every adoring response to Him. It is the joy of a doting Father over a cherished child. It is the pleasure of a mighty King over a faithful and treasured servant. Just as we cannot begin to imagine the heights and depths of His great glory, so too we cannot begin to fathom the infinite measures of His fatherly love and grace." (Facedown by Matt Redman)
Friday, March 4, 2011
Color Blind
My Dad is color blind. It was first discovered when my Granny (his mother) sent him to pick out some green pants. He brought her the wrong color once, then again and one last time. When she finally realized he did not know what green looked like, they had his eyes checked out and sure enough, he was color blind.
He describes it as seeing in black and white. I know he loves yellow because he knows what it looks like and can pick it out fairly easily. When it comes to other colors, he asks if he does not know for sure. He also says that when he gets to Heaven, that is one of the first things he expects to see; brilliant, vibrant, full color.
My Dad is also a painter. If you have ever been to our home, our living room is a Jay Douglas art gallery. I always love to surprise people with the fact that he is color blind. My Mom would help him usually pick out the right color combination.
The reason I bring this up is because of my children and my church.
I love Cameron Baptist Church for how beautifully diverse it is. I love that my kids, growing up in this church, are color blind. I love how our student ministry has such gorgeous faces and personalities. This makes me think of Heaven. We also have a huge group of Cameron University college students from all over the world, literally. Right here in Lawton, Oklahoma. When you look out onto our congregation, you see the whole world.
I love this.
I love my church.
We have been here for almost 6 years now. That is half of our marriage and almost all of our 2 boys lives. (Preston was 6 months when we came.)
No, things have not always been perfect, but this is our home. I have not always said that about Lawton, so this is a big step for me. Look at me, I am growing!
My Dad even calls this "home" now. He comes here every weekend and loves coming to church with us. He fits right in! This makes me so happy.
He describes it as seeing in black and white. I know he loves yellow because he knows what it looks like and can pick it out fairly easily. When it comes to other colors, he asks if he does not know for sure. He also says that when he gets to Heaven, that is one of the first things he expects to see; brilliant, vibrant, full color.
My Dad is also a painter. If you have ever been to our home, our living room is a Jay Douglas art gallery. I always love to surprise people with the fact that he is color blind. My Mom would help him usually pick out the right color combination.
The reason I bring this up is because of my children and my church.
I love Cameron Baptist Church for how beautifully diverse it is. I love that my kids, growing up in this church, are color blind. I love how our student ministry has such gorgeous faces and personalities. This makes me think of Heaven. We also have a huge group of Cameron University college students from all over the world, literally. Right here in Lawton, Oklahoma. When you look out onto our congregation, you see the whole world.
I love this.
I love my church.
We have been here for almost 6 years now. That is half of our marriage and almost all of our 2 boys lives. (Preston was 6 months when we came.)
No, things have not always been perfect, but this is our home. I have not always said that about Lawton, so this is a big step for me. Look at me, I am growing!
My Dad even calls this "home" now. He comes here every weekend and loves coming to church with us. He fits right in! This makes me so happy.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Get her back up in the air
You know the movie, Top Gun. Remember, at the end, when Goose dies, Maverick's Commander gives the order to get him back up in the air as soon as possible.
This is what comes to mind about me singing in worship. I blame my Worship Pastor, Steve Holt. Lol!
It is tough. I have tried walking away before. The rocks start crying out when I don't sing to Jesus.
I was thinking about walking away again after my Mom died. Everyone would have understood. No one would have been surprised.
It is exceedingly difficult to sing now. However, for me, it is yet another part of my healing process.
Here is the deal. I still believe that God is good. He is faithful to me, even when I am not faithful to Him. I have been given book after book filled with Scripture reminding me of all this and more. Scriptures that I have memorized, quoted and written in sympathy cards through the years. I know they are true still.
A very dear friend of mine said when tragedy came quick to her, the Lord reminded her of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego. They expected the Lord to deliver them from the fiery furnace, but even if He did not, they would not worship their gods or gold images. This gave my friend hope and comfort. This is good wisdom for people in the midst of tragedy or difficulty. Find your Scripture that you always can go back to, even if it is familiar.
This inspired and motivated me to find some Scripture to cling to from the very beginning of my Mom's diagnosis, February 2010. The Lord reminded me of Job 2:10b. "Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?" (By the way, I am a numbers person... 2:10 vs. 2/10, seems like a coincidence the Lord would do as a gentle reminder for me.) If you read Job 1:21b, it says "The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away; may the name of the LORD be praised." Tough words.
I have seen the Lord work in so many ways through so many years. Jesus is my Savior and Lord of my life. He is unwavering and constant. This does not change, thankfully.
"Any faith that leaves us unprepared for suffering is a false faith that deserves to be abandoned. Genuine faith will be tested by suffering; false faith will be lost - the sooner, the better. Believing God exists isn't the same as trusting the God who exists."
-Randy Alcorn "The Goodness of God"
This does not make my grief and sorrow disappear. I am sad, very sad. I miss my Mom so much it hurts, literally. Do I question God? YES! Do I get mad at God? OH YES! Can He take it? Absolutely, read your Bible!
It is interesting the books I read before all of this. A lot of them were about David. Talk about not being afraid to pour out his heart to God, bad and good.
One of the books I read was called "Get Over Yourself" by Jennifer Beckham. She references the story of when David's baby son dies.
"Then David arose from the earth, and washed, and anointed himself, and changed his apparel, and came into the house of the LORD, and worshiped; then he came into his own house; and when he required, they set bread before him, and he did eat."
2 Samuel 12:20
She writes:
"Understand that his situation had not changed - his son was still dead. But I believe when David washed and anointed himself after the death of his son, he was remembering when he was first anointed to be king. Studies show that when a person was anointed, there was a distinct aroma that permeated off of them from the oil. It was evident to anyone near them that they'd been anointed. Maybe he was saying to himself as he took the oil, I was chosen. I'm a king.
Perhaps as he applied the oil onto himself, he spoke those words aloud. Perhaps as the aroma filled the room and he breathed it, he got a new attitude. David had a revelation, one that you need to grasp as well: He could not change his circumstance, but he could change his attitude."
That is why I still sing, or like this morning in Sunday worship, let the words be sung over me while I ball my eyes out. I can't help the crying. It is like a river of life and once it starts it just won't stop. Some words (that are still true) are just hard to say out loud for me at this point. Again, I know all these things. It will take me longer than David to get up, wash up and remember I am a Princess.
Until then, thank you for supporting me through the tears, through the music.
I also read "Facing Your Giants" by Max Lucado. There is a chapter called "Unspeakable Grief."
"Amid the answers we think we know and the many we don't is this one: death stinks.
Death amputates a limb of your life. So Jesus wept. And in his tears we find permission to shed our own. F.B. Meyer wrote:
"Jesus wept. Peter wept. The Ephesian converts wept on the neck of the Apostle whose face they were never to see again. Christ stands by each mourner, saying, 'Weep, my child; weep, for I have wept.'
Tears relieve the burning brain, as a shower in the electric clouds. Tears discharge the insupportable agony of the heart, as an overflow lessens the pressure of the flood against the dam. Tears are the material out of which heaven weaves its brightest rainbow."
We don't know how long Jesus wept. We don't know how long David wept. But we know how long we weep... Am I the only one who senses that we hurry our hurts? Grief takes time. Give yourself some."
And time is what I have and I am grateful. So, I guess this is me "getting back up in the air."
"Take my voice and let me sing, always, only for my King."
-Frances Havergal (one of my favorite hymn writers)
"Our griefs cannot mar the melody of our praise; they are simply the bass notes of our life song: To God Be the Glory." -C.H. Spurgeon
One of my youth girls gave me a wind chime last year. It says "Life is a song. God's love is the music." I realized a while back, I am just an instrument, He alone is my music and song, thankfully. That is the only way I can say or sing the words "Glory to God."
Thank you for your continued prayers and support through this difficult time.
This is what comes to mind about me singing in worship. I blame my Worship Pastor, Steve Holt. Lol!
It is tough. I have tried walking away before. The rocks start crying out when I don't sing to Jesus.
I was thinking about walking away again after my Mom died. Everyone would have understood. No one would have been surprised.
It is exceedingly difficult to sing now. However, for me, it is yet another part of my healing process.
Here is the deal. I still believe that God is good. He is faithful to me, even when I am not faithful to Him. I have been given book after book filled with Scripture reminding me of all this and more. Scriptures that I have memorized, quoted and written in sympathy cards through the years. I know they are true still.
A very dear friend of mine said when tragedy came quick to her, the Lord reminded her of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego. They expected the Lord to deliver them from the fiery furnace, but even if He did not, they would not worship their gods or gold images. This gave my friend hope and comfort. This is good wisdom for people in the midst of tragedy or difficulty. Find your Scripture that you always can go back to, even if it is familiar.
This inspired and motivated me to find some Scripture to cling to from the very beginning of my Mom's diagnosis, February 2010. The Lord reminded me of Job 2:10b. "Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?" (By the way, I am a numbers person... 2:10 vs. 2/10, seems like a coincidence the Lord would do as a gentle reminder for me.) If you read Job 1:21b, it says "The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away; may the name of the LORD be praised." Tough words.
I have seen the Lord work in so many ways through so many years. Jesus is my Savior and Lord of my life. He is unwavering and constant. This does not change, thankfully.
"Any faith that leaves us unprepared for suffering is a false faith that deserves to be abandoned. Genuine faith will be tested by suffering; false faith will be lost - the sooner, the better. Believing God exists isn't the same as trusting the God who exists."
-Randy Alcorn "The Goodness of God"
This does not make my grief and sorrow disappear. I am sad, very sad. I miss my Mom so much it hurts, literally. Do I question God? YES! Do I get mad at God? OH YES! Can He take it? Absolutely, read your Bible!
It is interesting the books I read before all of this. A lot of them were about David. Talk about not being afraid to pour out his heart to God, bad and good.
One of the books I read was called "Get Over Yourself" by Jennifer Beckham. She references the story of when David's baby son dies.
"Then David arose from the earth, and washed, and anointed himself, and changed his apparel, and came into the house of the LORD, and worshiped; then he came into his own house; and when he required, they set bread before him, and he did eat."
2 Samuel 12:20
She writes:
"Understand that his situation had not changed - his son was still dead. But I believe when David washed and anointed himself after the death of his son, he was remembering when he was first anointed to be king. Studies show that when a person was anointed, there was a distinct aroma that permeated off of them from the oil. It was evident to anyone near them that they'd been anointed. Maybe he was saying to himself as he took the oil, I was chosen. I'm a king.
Perhaps as he applied the oil onto himself, he spoke those words aloud. Perhaps as the aroma filled the room and he breathed it, he got a new attitude. David had a revelation, one that you need to grasp as well: He could not change his circumstance, but he could change his attitude."
That is why I still sing, or like this morning in Sunday worship, let the words be sung over me while I ball my eyes out. I can't help the crying. It is like a river of life and once it starts it just won't stop. Some words (that are still true) are just hard to say out loud for me at this point. Again, I know all these things. It will take me longer than David to get up, wash up and remember I am a Princess.
Until then, thank you for supporting me through the tears, through the music.
I also read "Facing Your Giants" by Max Lucado. There is a chapter called "Unspeakable Grief."
"Amid the answers we think we know and the many we don't is this one: death stinks.
Death amputates a limb of your life. So Jesus wept. And in his tears we find permission to shed our own. F.B. Meyer wrote:
"Jesus wept. Peter wept. The Ephesian converts wept on the neck of the Apostle whose face they were never to see again. Christ stands by each mourner, saying, 'Weep, my child; weep, for I have wept.'
Tears relieve the burning brain, as a shower in the electric clouds. Tears discharge the insupportable agony of the heart, as an overflow lessens the pressure of the flood against the dam. Tears are the material out of which heaven weaves its brightest rainbow."
We don't know how long Jesus wept. We don't know how long David wept. But we know how long we weep... Am I the only one who senses that we hurry our hurts? Grief takes time. Give yourself some."
And time is what I have and I am grateful. So, I guess this is me "getting back up in the air."
"Take my voice and let me sing, always, only for my King."
-Frances Havergal (one of my favorite hymn writers)
"Our griefs cannot mar the melody of our praise; they are simply the bass notes of our life song: To God Be the Glory." -C.H. Spurgeon
One of my youth girls gave me a wind chime last year. It says "Life is a song. God's love is the music." I realized a while back, I am just an instrument, He alone is my music and song, thankfully. That is the only way I can say or sing the words "Glory to God."
Thank you for your continued prayers and support through this difficult time.
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