It was our special time of the evening. The lights were turned off, her teeth brushed, little legs tucked up as she sat sideways on my lap in the rocking chair. Abby wrapped her arms around my neck and snuggled her head into my shoulder. "Home is the best place, Mom," she said.
I really have no idea what prompted her observation. We hadn't gone anywhere that day and weren't talking about our home in that sweet little snuggle time. But I soaked up her words and enjoyed them. She was content, secure in her four-year old realm of drowsiness. As we continued to rock quietly, I thought about that phrase. "Home is the best place to be."
I thought of the two families from our church whose loved ones had been called to their heavenly home this week. What a sweet comfort these friends can experience in the middle of their pain and loss.
Just five months ago, Mr. Westrate stood beside the casket of his dear friend, my Grandpa VandenToorn. I remember the tears on his face as he expressed his own longing to be walking the streets of gold. That desire to be with Christ, in heaven, grows stronger as each year goes by. And just a short time after he stood beside grandpa's casket the desire of his heart was granted. The Lord called His faithful servant to his eternal heavenly home. I imagine grandpa and Mr. Westrate looking at each other and saying, "All those talks we had in the Banner Room; we never dreamed it would be this good, did we?"
Grandpa and Mr. Westrate spent many years working alongside each other in the church basement. They would organize and send out tracts and every other Thursday they would sneak snacks from the Esther Guild ladies. I know that heaven doesn't have a "Banner Room" like the church basement. But I wonder if those two close friends are serving the Lord together in some other way today. Service to the Lord is a part of our worship; bringing God glory and filling our hearts with joy. It makes sense to me that there will be some sort of service to God in heaven and I'm imagining these two having a truly amazing friendship that their earthly friendship was only a shadow of. Their focus not on each other, but on serving their Lord together with the multitudes of the saints.
Mrs. Baas was another tiny, sweet child of God. At 95 years of age, she was also longing to be with Jesus. Nothing the world had to offer could compare to what she was eagerly anticipating; her eternal homegoing. God called her home this week also and what a joy we can feel for her as we mourn alongside her children and grandchildren.
As wonderful as certain aspects of this worldy life are, I often find myself singing a song from one of parent's old records. "This world is not my home, I'm just a-traveling through. My treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue. The angels beckon me from heaven's open door, and I don't feel at home in this world anymore. Oh Lord, you know, I have no friend like You, If heaven's not my home, then Lord what will I do? The angels beckon me from heaven's open door. And I don't feel at home in this world anymore."
Then, how right my four-year old is. Home is the best place to be. And for every child of God, heaven is his or her true home. We are simply putting in time here on earth, working to complete the tasks God has set before us. But looking forward more and more to the moment that last work for Christ is completed. For at that second, God will bring us home to Himself and we will be able to experience the very best place to be. And it will never, ever end.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Perspectives on "He Gives and Takes Away"
Our pastor's sermon on Job a few weeks ago whetted my appetite for more teaching from that book of the Bible. I think there is so much more truth and blessing hidden in there than the over-used lesson on the "patience of Job". Evidently God has whetted Pastor's appetite to preach from the book as well and I'm very much looking forward to his new series. I so loved the way he pointed out the book is not so much about Job, but about Job's great God. He said God was working in Job's life as a prototype of how God works in the lives of each of His own. What a wonderful truth. There was nothing so special about Job that earned him his reputation of great patience and praise in adversity. It is Job's God that is so special. And God has not changed in the thousands of years since He worked in Job's life. God delights to work in His people today.
For many of us, when we hear about Job, we immediately think of his proclamation, "The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away, blessed be the name of the Lord." I've been thinking about that statement and I believe there is another way of looking at it. I'm telling myself not to stop at, "the Lord taketh away." Maybe I just don't like the negatives. For years I grew up with the kind of mental picture of God taking things from people and that was it. When God took your loved one, that was the end of that chapter. He was indeed to be praised and blessed for His perfect timing and goodness in all things even when we can't understand it all. But that was it. There was nothing but an empty spot in that part of your life.
I'm wondering now if it goes a step beyond that. Now, I have come to think that God takes things away from His people only so that He can give them something better. He never takes something and leaves a complete void. He desires to fill the space of whatever He took with something deeper and richer, growing and blessing us. Whether we accept the gift He offers us is often up to us. We can keep our eyes focused on what is no longer there, missing and hurting. Or we can choose to turn our eyes to what God wants to give instead. Still hurting, but looking for blessing at the same time.
I think back to the two little babies that Michael and I never got to hold. It hurt to lose them and we will always wonder about what they might have been like. What would their laughs have sounded like? Would they have had blonde hair like Caleb and Grace or brown hair like Micah and Abby. It was part of God's good plan to take those little ones from us before they were born. But then He replaced the dreams we had with His promises. We have the comfort that these little ones never had to experience life in a sinful world. They have known nothing but glory. Wow! That is an amazingly good gift for a parent to have. We know that one day we will join those little ones in heaven and will get to praise God with them and the multitude of the redeemed. We can choose to focus on the hope and promises He has given us.
I'm reminded of when Michael lost full time work. God took away work hours and income. But He didn't stop there. He took that away so that He would be able to give us His provision in absolutely amazing, unimaginable ways. He took finances away to give us the gift of greater dependence on Him and the closeness that comes with that dependence. Of course it was hard, and we had worries and I cried! But God's plan was always to bless us.
I hadn't come to this understanding when we received Caleb's diagnosis of mild cerebral palsey when he was just over 18 months old. I struggled more with that than almost anything else. Looking back, I see God taking away our expectations of what Caleb's future would be like to give us the gift of His sustaining grace. I think I would have been more richly blessed if I'd realized it more fully and been looking more intently for evidences of it. God did give us the gift of thankfulness in that time. Everytime I took Caleb for therapy or to be fitted for a new brace for his leg I was thankful for what he WAS able to do. And after two years of therapy and treatment, God gave us the miracle of healing. I remember the specialist saying, "I know we didn't mis-diagnose, but his symptoms are no longer evident." I know God doesn't give that gift of healing to everyone. But I do believe His hand is extended, holding out a different gift. Trust. Joy. The gift of the impossible in the awful stuff of life.
I'm thinking about dad, going on week two of recovery at home. I.V. drips for three hours out of the day for another five weeks. I have a choice. I can either focus on the knee replacement that God took away. Or I can look for God's hand offering the gift of acceptance. I could say, "God, you took away dad's ability to walk again." Instead, I'm going to choose to say, "You are giving us the gift of being able to proclaim to the hospital staff once again how good You are and how perfect is Your plan."
It was part of God's good plan to take away Grandpa VandenToorn's mind in the last months of his life. It was so painful to watch. But as God took that away, He gave grandpa the opportunity to show his love for his Lord. What a sweet blessing to hear that people at the nursing home wondered if grandpa had been a pastor, his love for God and God's Word was still evident, even when he didn't know anyone around him.
When God took grandpa's physical presence from us through death, I don't think He was so much taking grandpa away from us, but bringing grandpa to Himself. And while the pain of death is searing, God does not take away without giving something even better. When God brought grandpa home He gave us an example of the fulfullment of His promise, "I will never leave you nor forsake you." He proved the scripture, "He who began a good work in you is faithful to complete it." As we saw these fulfilled in the lives of one of God's children, we received the gift of the assurance that God will fulfill it in the lives of every one of His children, including us.
I recently heard someone say that God's "No's" in our lives are only to bring us to a bigger "Yes". How true! When God takes something from us, it is only to give us something better. It doesn't always seem better as we go through the painful experiences. But we can remind ourselves that it is true. And the more we remind ourselves of truth, the more deeply we can believe it. Then, the more deeply we believe it, the more fully we can live it. And I sure do want to live life fully for God!
And yes, the next time God, in His good plan, takes something away from me, I'll hurt and cry. Then I'll go and reread this and pray to get my focus back.
For many of us, when we hear about Job, we immediately think of his proclamation, "The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away, blessed be the name of the Lord." I've been thinking about that statement and I believe there is another way of looking at it. I'm telling myself not to stop at, "the Lord taketh away." Maybe I just don't like the negatives. For years I grew up with the kind of mental picture of God taking things from people and that was it. When God took your loved one, that was the end of that chapter. He was indeed to be praised and blessed for His perfect timing and goodness in all things even when we can't understand it all. But that was it. There was nothing but an empty spot in that part of your life.
I'm wondering now if it goes a step beyond that. Now, I have come to think that God takes things away from His people only so that He can give them something better. He never takes something and leaves a complete void. He desires to fill the space of whatever He took with something deeper and richer, growing and blessing us. Whether we accept the gift He offers us is often up to us. We can keep our eyes focused on what is no longer there, missing and hurting. Or we can choose to turn our eyes to what God wants to give instead. Still hurting, but looking for blessing at the same time.
I think back to the two little babies that Michael and I never got to hold. It hurt to lose them and we will always wonder about what they might have been like. What would their laughs have sounded like? Would they have had blonde hair like Caleb and Grace or brown hair like Micah and Abby. It was part of God's good plan to take those little ones from us before they were born. But then He replaced the dreams we had with His promises. We have the comfort that these little ones never had to experience life in a sinful world. They have known nothing but glory. Wow! That is an amazingly good gift for a parent to have. We know that one day we will join those little ones in heaven and will get to praise God with them and the multitude of the redeemed. We can choose to focus on the hope and promises He has given us.
I'm reminded of when Michael lost full time work. God took away work hours and income. But He didn't stop there. He took that away so that He would be able to give us His provision in absolutely amazing, unimaginable ways. He took finances away to give us the gift of greater dependence on Him and the closeness that comes with that dependence. Of course it was hard, and we had worries and I cried! But God's plan was always to bless us.
I hadn't come to this understanding when we received Caleb's diagnosis of mild cerebral palsey when he was just over 18 months old. I struggled more with that than almost anything else. Looking back, I see God taking away our expectations of what Caleb's future would be like to give us the gift of His sustaining grace. I think I would have been more richly blessed if I'd realized it more fully and been looking more intently for evidences of it. God did give us the gift of thankfulness in that time. Everytime I took Caleb for therapy or to be fitted for a new brace for his leg I was thankful for what he WAS able to do. And after two years of therapy and treatment, God gave us the miracle of healing. I remember the specialist saying, "I know we didn't mis-diagnose, but his symptoms are no longer evident." I know God doesn't give that gift of healing to everyone. But I do believe His hand is extended, holding out a different gift. Trust. Joy. The gift of the impossible in the awful stuff of life.
I'm thinking about dad, going on week two of recovery at home. I.V. drips for three hours out of the day for another five weeks. I have a choice. I can either focus on the knee replacement that God took away. Or I can look for God's hand offering the gift of acceptance. I could say, "God, you took away dad's ability to walk again." Instead, I'm going to choose to say, "You are giving us the gift of being able to proclaim to the hospital staff once again how good You are and how perfect is Your plan."
It was part of God's good plan to take away Grandpa VandenToorn's mind in the last months of his life. It was so painful to watch. But as God took that away, He gave grandpa the opportunity to show his love for his Lord. What a sweet blessing to hear that people at the nursing home wondered if grandpa had been a pastor, his love for God and God's Word was still evident, even when he didn't know anyone around him.
When God took grandpa's physical presence from us through death, I don't think He was so much taking grandpa away from us, but bringing grandpa to Himself. And while the pain of death is searing, God does not take away without giving something even better. When God brought grandpa home He gave us an example of the fulfullment of His promise, "I will never leave you nor forsake you." He proved the scripture, "He who began a good work in you is faithful to complete it." As we saw these fulfilled in the lives of one of God's children, we received the gift of the assurance that God will fulfill it in the lives of every one of His children, including us.
I recently heard someone say that God's "No's" in our lives are only to bring us to a bigger "Yes". How true! When God takes something from us, it is only to give us something better. It doesn't always seem better as we go through the painful experiences. But we can remind ourselves that it is true. And the more we remind ourselves of truth, the more deeply we can believe it. Then, the more deeply we believe it, the more fully we can live it. And I sure do want to live life fully for God!
And yes, the next time God, in His good plan, takes something away from me, I'll hurt and cry. Then I'll go and reread this and pray to get my focus back.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
An Exercise in Thankfulness
Some people greet each new morning by bounding out of bed eager to take on whatever challenge the day holds. I am not one of them. Sometimes the morning itself seems like a huge challenge and I'd just rather not take it on. But, being a mom whose kids need to get on the school bus, I get up and get everyone going.
My morning today provided some interesting opportunities to excercise joy and thankfulness. I'm learning that thankfulness is often a deliberate choice of mindset and it takes work. Exercise is defined as "any activity designed to hone a skill or ablity" and I got to EXERCISE thankfulness today.
Reaching for the butter to prepare Micah's waffles, I accidentally knocked over a half-empty glass of milk one of my urchins had placed in the fridge yesterday. Milk flowed over the top shelf, trickled down to the second shelf, dripped into the bins and splatted on the floor and surrounding cupboards. I think the amount of milk multiplied as it spilled because I'm quite sure I mopped up a lot more than was in the little cup to begin with. As the waffles sat cooling and the lunches weren't quite finished, I resisted the urge to focus on the negative. Instead I chose to thank God that my family has milk to spare and for the many conveniences I've been blessed with. What if I had no washing machine or no refrigerator in the first place? The spill happened on a Tuesday morning when I did not have to be out the door by a certain time.
The next opportunity to exercise thankfulness came as I started up the load of towels. Sweet Abby came to tell me that she hadn't quite made it to the toilet, but that she had put a towel on the puddle on the bathroom floor. I chose to be thankful that lunches were at least done, older kids almost on their way out the door and Micah was enjoying his slightly cool waffles. I chose to be thankful that Abby told me about the problem and that I hadn't discovered it as a result of someone slipping in it and getting hurt. I chose to be thankful she hadn't made the mess because she was sick and I wouldn't have to clean it up all day long. I couldn't quite smile as I cleaned the bathroom floor at 7:30 a.m. but I was working to be thankful for little things.
This giving thanks in all things is hard work though. It requires great effort and does not come naturally. It seemed like a mental tug-of-war this morning to mentally shift gears from the temptation to complain and turn to an opportunity to give thanks. It is tiring to do mental battle for joy. But I do believe that as we conciously choose to be thankful and look for things to rejoice over, it does become easier. It also makes me more eager for that glorious day in the future when thankfulness will come naturally. In heaven there will be no alarms waking us before we're ready, no spilled milk and no bathroom accidents. There will be unending, unspeakable joy with our Savior, the One who teaches us true thankfulness.
My morning today provided some interesting opportunities to excercise joy and thankfulness. I'm learning that thankfulness is often a deliberate choice of mindset and it takes work. Exercise is defined as "any activity designed to hone a skill or ablity" and I got to EXERCISE thankfulness today.
Reaching for the butter to prepare Micah's waffles, I accidentally knocked over a half-empty glass of milk one of my urchins had placed in the fridge yesterday. Milk flowed over the top shelf, trickled down to the second shelf, dripped into the bins and splatted on the floor and surrounding cupboards. I think the amount of milk multiplied as it spilled because I'm quite sure I mopped up a lot more than was in the little cup to begin with. As the waffles sat cooling and the lunches weren't quite finished, I resisted the urge to focus on the negative. Instead I chose to thank God that my family has milk to spare and for the many conveniences I've been blessed with. What if I had no washing machine or no refrigerator in the first place? The spill happened on a Tuesday morning when I did not have to be out the door by a certain time.
The next opportunity to exercise thankfulness came as I started up the load of towels. Sweet Abby came to tell me that she hadn't quite made it to the toilet, but that she had put a towel on the puddle on the bathroom floor. I chose to be thankful that lunches were at least done, older kids almost on their way out the door and Micah was enjoying his slightly cool waffles. I chose to be thankful that Abby told me about the problem and that I hadn't discovered it as a result of someone slipping in it and getting hurt. I chose to be thankful she hadn't made the mess because she was sick and I wouldn't have to clean it up all day long. I couldn't quite smile as I cleaned the bathroom floor at 7:30 a.m. but I was working to be thankful for little things.
This giving thanks in all things is hard work though. It requires great effort and does not come naturally. It seemed like a mental tug-of-war this morning to mentally shift gears from the temptation to complain and turn to an opportunity to give thanks. It is tiring to do mental battle for joy. But I do believe that as we conciously choose to be thankful and look for things to rejoice over, it does become easier. It also makes me more eager for that glorious day in the future when thankfulness will come naturally. In heaven there will be no alarms waking us before we're ready, no spilled milk and no bathroom accidents. There will be unending, unspeakable joy with our Savior, the One who teaches us true thankfulness.
Friday, September 9, 2011
My God is So Big
"My God is so big, so strong and so mighty, there's nothing my God cannot do."
"My God is so big, so strong and so mighty, there's nothing my God cannot do...FOR YOU!"
Our four year old Abby has been singing this song so often over the past few weeks. I hear her as she's in the bathroom, or when she's playing with her polly pockets in the family room, or as she rides along in the van. This is the catchy type of song that gets imprinted in your brain and plays over and over all day.
I know that there is nothing that God is incapable of doing for His dear ones. But the question niggles, "What if He chooses not to?"
I believe whole-heartedly that He has the power to make cancer completely disappear from the body of a young mom. But what if He chooses not to?
I believe that He is able to guard against infection in knee replacement surgery. But what if He chooses not to?
I believe that He has the power to anwer the prayer of my kids and completely heal the hearing loss and tinnitus I've had for eight years. But what if He chooses not to?
I believe He has the power to bring my loved ones who have no interest in Him to a saving relationship with Him. But what if He chooses not to?
The enemy whispers, "Is He still strong and mighty?"
Oh, a thousand times, YES! Sometimes I think He proves His power more strongly by continuing to uphold His people through His loving, "No's". How many opportunities are given to glorify Him through the daily, hourly, moment-by-moment dependence on Him.
Dad is in the hospital again. I'm tempted to say, "Lord, don't You think this is enough now? Four surgeries on this leg?" Instead, I'm choosing to say, "Lord, this is hard, but You must have someone in that hospital staff that you want dad to witness to. You must have more You want to teach us about dependence on You. You are only good. So this must be for good also." The more I repeat this to myself, the more convinced of it's truth I am. And how that strengthens and even cheers one.
The thought comes, "Mom has stayed with her parents for a week, admitted her father to the nursing home, cared for her husband through knee-replacement surgery, experienced the death and burial of her father, cared for her husband through additional surgery for infection, taken care of her step-mother when she fractured her back, taken her step-mother into her home as they packed for a move out of state, and now she has to care for dad as he goes through another surgery for infection all within seven months? She struggles with depression, God, did You remember that?"
But instead, I'm going to choose to take hold of those thoughts and say instead, "Your servant Sue GETS TO show Your faithfulness. You know her verse is 'I can do all things through Him who strengthens me'. What a powerful God You are to continue to be her strength through all this that You have entrusted to her." For even these trials are opportunities He entrusts to us, His children, out of His deep love.
When God chooses not to prove how mighty He is by changing our situation, He promises to prove how mighty He is by carrying us through the situation.
So, I've made up my own little version of the children's song...
"My God is so big, so strong and so mighty, there's nothing my God cannot do."
"My God is so big, so strong and so mighty, He's promised to see me through...AND YOU."
And that dear mom of two little sweeties...He is going to prove how strong and mighty He is through her no matter what the days ahead hold.
"My God is so big, so strong and so mighty, there's nothing my God cannot do...FOR YOU!"
Our four year old Abby has been singing this song so often over the past few weeks. I hear her as she's in the bathroom, or when she's playing with her polly pockets in the family room, or as she rides along in the van. This is the catchy type of song that gets imprinted in your brain and plays over and over all day.
I know that there is nothing that God is incapable of doing for His dear ones. But the question niggles, "What if He chooses not to?"
I believe whole-heartedly that He has the power to make cancer completely disappear from the body of a young mom. But what if He chooses not to?
I believe that He is able to guard against infection in knee replacement surgery. But what if He chooses not to?
I believe that He has the power to anwer the prayer of my kids and completely heal the hearing loss and tinnitus I've had for eight years. But what if He chooses not to?
I believe He has the power to bring my loved ones who have no interest in Him to a saving relationship with Him. But what if He chooses not to?
The enemy whispers, "Is He still strong and mighty?"
Oh, a thousand times, YES! Sometimes I think He proves His power more strongly by continuing to uphold His people through His loving, "No's". How many opportunities are given to glorify Him through the daily, hourly, moment-by-moment dependence on Him.
Dad is in the hospital again. I'm tempted to say, "Lord, don't You think this is enough now? Four surgeries on this leg?" Instead, I'm choosing to say, "Lord, this is hard, but You must have someone in that hospital staff that you want dad to witness to. You must have more You want to teach us about dependence on You. You are only good. So this must be for good also." The more I repeat this to myself, the more convinced of it's truth I am. And how that strengthens and even cheers one.
The thought comes, "Mom has stayed with her parents for a week, admitted her father to the nursing home, cared for her husband through knee-replacement surgery, experienced the death and burial of her father, cared for her husband through additional surgery for infection, taken care of her step-mother when she fractured her back, taken her step-mother into her home as they packed for a move out of state, and now she has to care for dad as he goes through another surgery for infection all within seven months? She struggles with depression, God, did You remember that?"
But instead, I'm going to choose to take hold of those thoughts and say instead, "Your servant Sue GETS TO show Your faithfulness. You know her verse is 'I can do all things through Him who strengthens me'. What a powerful God You are to continue to be her strength through all this that You have entrusted to her." For even these trials are opportunities He entrusts to us, His children, out of His deep love.
When God chooses not to prove how mighty He is by changing our situation, He promises to prove how mighty He is by carrying us through the situation.
So, I've made up my own little version of the children's song...
"My God is so big, so strong and so mighty, there's nothing my God cannot do."
"My God is so big, so strong and so mighty, He's promised to see me through...AND YOU."
And that dear mom of two little sweeties...He is going to prove how strong and mighty He is through her no matter what the days ahead hold.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
He Who Holds A Mother's Heart
"We're so sorry, but the tests show your baby will be born with Spina Bifida." This was news that broke my friend's heart.
Another friend watches her young son with ADHD struggle with social issues. Her heart breaks for him every time his peers pull away.
There is a dear one whose heart was shattered when her daughter and unborn grandbaby were killed in a car accident.
Achohol addiction consumes the life of a son as a mother grieves.
Another's heart breaks once more as her daughter disappears for days into the inner city on a drug binge.
A mother's heart is torn as her adult son rejects his family and his Maker.
Yet another experiences the late-term death of her unborn child and endures labor and delivery knowing she will never hear her little one's cry.
The tears flow so readily from the friend whose teenage daughter married against her parent's wishes and moved across the country, suddenly and painfully altering their close relationship.
A mother's heart, I think, is one of the most fragile things. The sustaining power of God also makes that same mother's heart one of the most resiliant, trusting things. These women I know each have such a unique hurt. It could seem that no one else can fully understand their pain. But I have seen each of these women powerfully testify of a confidence that her loving, heavenly Father understands. These women praise God through their tears as they proclaim, "I don't understand why and the pain is so deep. But I know You, O Lord, and You are only good. You do not waste our suffering. I will choose to trust You and wait to see Your good plan in all this aching." These hurting ones have also turned their pain into an empathy. They have not given in to the temptation to get so lost in their pain that they don't see the pain of others. They listen to the Holy Spirit's prompting to reach out to other mothers who face sorrows. These women allow themselves to be tools in God's hand to offer comfort, hope and encouragement. They allow God to use their brokenness.
There is a Tinkerbell movie I have watched with my girls that reminds me of the beauty of a broken heart. Tink is in charge of making a sceptor to display a large, beautiful jewel for the festival. However, the jewel gets broken in an accident. She desperately tries to repair it, but cannot. Finally, she designs a sceptor that displays all the broken parts of the jewel. This sceptor catches the moonlight and reflects the light in all different directions in a much different way than a single jewel could. I'm reminded that God holds the pieces of the broken heart who trusts in Him. As He looks at the pieces of a broken heart, each piece shines and reflects His glory in a way that an unbroken heart could not. His trustworthiness, His sustaining grace, His tender care, His comfort, His peace that passes all understanding shine brilliantly through the one who trusts Him through great pain. If these dear ones did not experience the pain, they would not shine so brightly for Him. They would never choose the hurts, but they do choose to trust Him through the hurting. And in so doing, they become His powerful witnesses.
I haven't had my mother's heart broken as deeply as these dear ones. At times, the Evil One tries to whisper fears to me. "How are your children going to hurt you? Are you going to be strong enough to endure the pain that may lie ahead?" I am learning to face these whispered fears with what I do know. God promises never to leave me and never to forsake me. He promises His grace and strength. His word never fails. I am learning to expect neither complete bliss nor deep disaster in my parenting years ahead. I can expect that God will be there through it all and I can anticipate His sustaining power through anything.
Another friend watches her young son with ADHD struggle with social issues. Her heart breaks for him every time his peers pull away.
There is a dear one whose heart was shattered when her daughter and unborn grandbaby were killed in a car accident.
Achohol addiction consumes the life of a son as a mother grieves.
Another's heart breaks once more as her daughter disappears for days into the inner city on a drug binge.
A mother's heart is torn as her adult son rejects his family and his Maker.
Yet another experiences the late-term death of her unborn child and endures labor and delivery knowing she will never hear her little one's cry.
The tears flow so readily from the friend whose teenage daughter married against her parent's wishes and moved across the country, suddenly and painfully altering their close relationship.
A mother's heart, I think, is one of the most fragile things. The sustaining power of God also makes that same mother's heart one of the most resiliant, trusting things. These women I know each have such a unique hurt. It could seem that no one else can fully understand their pain. But I have seen each of these women powerfully testify of a confidence that her loving, heavenly Father understands. These women praise God through their tears as they proclaim, "I don't understand why and the pain is so deep. But I know You, O Lord, and You are only good. You do not waste our suffering. I will choose to trust You and wait to see Your good plan in all this aching." These hurting ones have also turned their pain into an empathy. They have not given in to the temptation to get so lost in their pain that they don't see the pain of others. They listen to the Holy Spirit's prompting to reach out to other mothers who face sorrows. These women allow themselves to be tools in God's hand to offer comfort, hope and encouragement. They allow God to use their brokenness.
There is a Tinkerbell movie I have watched with my girls that reminds me of the beauty of a broken heart. Tink is in charge of making a sceptor to display a large, beautiful jewel for the festival. However, the jewel gets broken in an accident. She desperately tries to repair it, but cannot. Finally, she designs a sceptor that displays all the broken parts of the jewel. This sceptor catches the moonlight and reflects the light in all different directions in a much different way than a single jewel could. I'm reminded that God holds the pieces of the broken heart who trusts in Him. As He looks at the pieces of a broken heart, each piece shines and reflects His glory in a way that an unbroken heart could not. His trustworthiness, His sustaining grace, His tender care, His comfort, His peace that passes all understanding shine brilliantly through the one who trusts Him through great pain. If these dear ones did not experience the pain, they would not shine so brightly for Him. They would never choose the hurts, but they do choose to trust Him through the hurting. And in so doing, they become His powerful witnesses.
I haven't had my mother's heart broken as deeply as these dear ones. At times, the Evil One tries to whisper fears to me. "How are your children going to hurt you? Are you going to be strong enough to endure the pain that may lie ahead?" I am learning to face these whispered fears with what I do know. God promises never to leave me and never to forsake me. He promises His grace and strength. His word never fails. I am learning to expect neither complete bliss nor deep disaster in my parenting years ahead. I can expect that God will be there through it all and I can anticipate His sustaining power through anything.
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