Someone get another box of tissues, because apparently I've sprung a leak.
This is the morning of the oldest boy's, oldest child's, commencement. In the evening we will be joining hundreds, thousands really, of others in an auditorium to watch our first born and 494 other graduates receive diplomas signifying academic achievements. My son has much to be proud of.
I am teary now and I have been teary for days, weeks months...who am I kidding? I'm one of those crying types.
So today, I sit and type through big, sobbing tears and I don't understand it. He's not going anywhere for two months and he's not even going far to college. It's just that sometimes my heart feels overflowing with the intensity of life. I tried to explain to the 10 yo because he was trying to understand my sadness...it's not sadness..exactly. It's more like an intensity of emotion.
I see flashes of the past 17+ years so vividly. I still remember the Husband's face when I told him there were 2 blue lines. It may be the only time that man has ever been speechless. I remember the awe at the miracle of his birth. I think love was really something tangible we could touch and hold in our hands in the predawn hours of that day. I realize how fleeting those nights he slept no more than 5 minutes at a stretch really were. They felt like they'd never end. I remember the way he ran around at my mother's funeral like the perfect comic relief and the way chasing him was the carrot on the string that kept me from curling up in a ball of despair; his smile and laugh were sweet comfort. When he was 3 and we were new to our church, his Sunday School teacher was convinced we'd never be back...the story of the widow's mite had him in tears. When he was 6 he announced he was going to build a 1000 story building for all the homeless people. He went through a phase where he wanted to be a roller coaster designer. (He is, instead, majoring in civil engineering). He is my personal tech support, the one who will not let his sister cry and will help his brothers with school work.
I look at him and am so proud of this young man. I see shades of the man he is yet to grow into and reflections of the boy he once was.
We want to give them roots and wings. We want to raise them so they can leave, but no matter how great we can be as parents (and I am far from great), we cannot control everything and everyone, including the children. I cannot always protect these kids from others or even their own choices. Having a part of my heart walking around outside my body can feel a little like someone squeezing the air of my lungs.
So today, I will cry a little. (Little is relative.) I will iron his shirt and smile with pride when he walks down the stairs with his tie knotted "just so". I will hold this memory in my heart along with all the others I have been blessed with and there will always be room for more memories of him and his brothers and sister as they walk through this crazy, amazing adventure of life.
-Peace and Love (and where is that box of tissues?!)
Friday, June 22, 2012
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Not Job (long O)
I've taken a bit of a writing hiatus.
The reason is simple and complicated all at the same time. I realized that who I am "here" and what I'm going through "out there" are not in sync.
When people tell me I seem peaceful or like I have it together I feel... like a big, fat liar. I also found out that sometimes it even intimidated people...until we had a conversation and they saw me in scary, living technicolor hot mess. (Then we were cool.)
Often I write to work through things, which makes it seem all methodical and peaceful and clean..which is what I am doing now except...Life, my friends, is often very messy, especially when lived fully and with risks and mistakes.
When I started this blog I had this "pie in the sky" idea that I would someday get a book contract and maybe even get to speak from a Christian perspective. The reality is, the real me probably wouldn't fit in so well with what I perceive to be what they are looking for.
I know that if I filled my life with only things deemed pleasing to God, I would be better off and I know in my head that God loves me flaws and poor choices and all. (That's grace.) My heart is not on the same "God loves me" page. Ironic because I spend a lot of time telling other people something that my heart cannot believe for me.
It really hit home for me last night as I was saying The Lord's Prayer with my kids...and my words felt stuck in my throat and I felt like my stomach was full of rocks...
You see, life has been kind of rough all the way around for years..and sometimes I feel like, "Why even bother?" We've spent a lot of time and energy trying to follow Gods will and I'm kind of in a "What the hell?" mood. Nothing I do seems to make a difference.
I come from a tradition that espouses, "Saved by grace through faith and not by works of the law." so I do not necessarily believe my actions result in salvation, but sometimes, it would be nice if my actions would result in a little good news in the "here and now" not only in an "end time" which I cannot even begin to imagine.
I understand and believe that faith is reflected in how we handle adversity. I am trying hard to see silver linings, but to be honest...the tarnish is getting to me.
I understand and believe that faith is reflected in how we handle adversity. I am trying hard to see silver linings, but to be honest...the tarnish is getting to me.
I do not have the patience nor the faith of Job, it would seem. I feel it's obvious I do not even have the faith of a mustard seed...I have the shaken and fractured faith of a woman who doesn't ever have to wait long for the other shoe to drop...on her head, as the can of spaghettios falls on her bare foot.
This is me. It's real. My kids struggle and sometimes the only help I can offer is hugs and love them with everything I have (and it doesn't ever seem to be enough). I like to listen to (sing along with and dance to) loud rock music with lyrics I wouldn't want my kids to sing along to (that's what ear buds and car rides by myself are for..so I either sing along at the top of my lungs in the mom van or I'm dancing around the kitchen to music no one else can hear), I enjoy a cocktail, good books (good being relative), walking by the ocean (had to throw that in, hehe) and lots of other things. I struggle with problems and questions. My home is in a constant state of clutter. There's never enough time or money or peace. I am imperfect and rarely truly "at peace". I am seeking my true self instead of fulfilling the expectations of others and trying not to be selfish and hurt the ones I love in the process. (Talk about a delicate balance...)
To steal a dear friend's phrase, "I'm seeking the balance between edgy and respectable." I am certainly not Job (long O).
-Peace (in whatever measure you can find it.)
This is me. It's real. My kids struggle and sometimes the only help I can offer is hugs and love them with everything I have (and it doesn't ever seem to be enough). I like to listen to (sing along with and dance to) loud rock music with lyrics I wouldn't want my kids to sing along to (that's what ear buds and car rides by myself are for..so I either sing along at the top of my lungs in the mom van or I'm dancing around the kitchen to music no one else can hear), I enjoy a cocktail, good books (good being relative), walking by the ocean (had to throw that in, hehe) and lots of other things. I struggle with problems and questions. My home is in a constant state of clutter. There's never enough time or money or peace. I am imperfect and rarely truly "at peace". I am seeking my true self instead of fulfilling the expectations of others and trying not to be selfish and hurt the ones I love in the process. (Talk about a delicate balance...)
To steal a dear friend's phrase, "I'm seeking the balance between edgy and respectable." I am certainly not Job (long O).
-Peace (in whatever measure you can find it.)
Monday, April 2, 2012
Roll Better Than a Flat Tire
Frequently I find myself saying, "Life is what happens when we're making other plans."
This morning I planned to go to the park for an early walk, then meet a friend for coffee. It is chilly so I even got proper clothing together.
As I left my driveway I saw an unfamiliar light gleaming on the dashboard but I thought I'd just deal with it later. (You're cringing and shaking your head, aren't you? That's what the Husband is going to do when he reads this.)
"What IS that noise?!" I searched for a place to turn around or over and as I pulled into a parking lot it clicked. Flat tire.
So here I sit, waiting to be rescued. The lug nuts are stuck so roadside assistance just arrived. Yahoo!
This was not part of my plan. The time spent getting the tire fixed or replaced and the money it will cost was not in the plan either. That is life. I can whine about it or roll with it.
---Spare on, Husband takes it to be fixed--
I will confess that "discussing" replacement options (how many tires to replace..because they're all shot?!) meant that the Husband attempted to discuss and I ranted about how it's never just what we bring it in for and yes, I was yelling and no, I may not have said, "Goodbye." when I hung up. (Sometimes my conversation skills are sorely lacking.)
But... You see my 'frayed-by-10:30-am' nerves are part of what happens when life happens and my plans don't. I get a little (or a lot) agitated, especially when it is about money I have not budgeted to spend. It was much easier to roll and not whine when I wasn't hearing, "4 new tires" on the same day I am taking 12 yo for new glasses and there are other expenses looming large on the horizon and...
Oh hello, God! I'm supposed to trust you and to have faith that You will provide... and where does that fit in with the tire scenario? Some will say that we should not expect such things of God and others will tell you that God has a way of providing. (FYI no surprise checks arrived in the mail today lol). I am going to tell you that I know it will work out in the end but right now I'm a little bit in knots trying to figure out how. I think it is safe to say that I trust God with the big salvation stuff but the little, big stuff...I feel like I am constantly panicking over and trying to figure out.
I have learned that NOTHING ever goes as I plan it. And when it does...my plans are not all that splendid. Sooo...I need to learn to roll better than my flat tire. I need to just quote my old supervisor who used to say, "They can't kill you and eat you." (Obviously she was never in a land of cannibals.) I need to see the gifts of warm safe house, food to eat and basic health. I need to trust in God and see that it's better to roll with it than panic and whine or *ahem* yell at the messenger. (Yes, I am ashamed.)
I ask God to forgive me when I do not roll better than a flat tire. I also ask my family and friends to forgive me for that unpleasant trait, among the many others I possess which show my lack of faith, patience and character. Sigh.
I pray that I will learn to roll better. If you have some flat spots, I hope you can smooth them out and roll better, too.
-Peace
This morning I planned to go to the park for an early walk, then meet a friend for coffee. It is chilly so I even got proper clothing together.
As I left my driveway I saw an unfamiliar light gleaming on the dashboard but I thought I'd just deal with it later. (You're cringing and shaking your head, aren't you? That's what the Husband is going to do when he reads this.)
"What IS that noise?!" I searched for a place to turn around or over and as I pulled into a parking lot it clicked. Flat tire.
So here I sit, waiting to be rescued. The lug nuts are stuck so roadside assistance just arrived. Yahoo!
This was not part of my plan. The time spent getting the tire fixed or replaced and the money it will cost was not in the plan either. That is life. I can whine about it or roll with it.
---Spare on, Husband takes it to be fixed--
I will confess that "discussing" replacement options (how many tires to replace..because they're all shot?!) meant that the Husband attempted to discuss and I ranted about how it's never just what we bring it in for and yes, I was yelling and no, I may not have said, "Goodbye." when I hung up. (Sometimes my conversation skills are sorely lacking.)
But... You see my 'frayed-by-10:30-am' nerves are part of what happens when life happens and my plans don't. I get a little (or a lot) agitated, especially when it is about money I have not budgeted to spend. It was much easier to roll and not whine when I wasn't hearing, "4 new tires" on the same day I am taking 12 yo for new glasses and there are other expenses looming large on the horizon and...
Oh hello, God! I'm supposed to trust you and to have faith that You will provide... and where does that fit in with the tire scenario? Some will say that we should not expect such things of God and others will tell you that God has a way of providing. (FYI no surprise checks arrived in the mail today lol). I am going to tell you that I know it will work out in the end but right now I'm a little bit in knots trying to figure out how. I think it is safe to say that I trust God with the big salvation stuff but the little, big stuff...I feel like I am constantly panicking over and trying to figure out.
I have learned that NOTHING ever goes as I plan it. And when it does...my plans are not all that splendid. Sooo...I need to learn to roll better than my flat tire. I need to just quote my old supervisor who used to say, "They can't kill you and eat you." (Obviously she was never in a land of cannibals.) I need to see the gifts of warm safe house, food to eat and basic health. I need to trust in God and see that it's better to roll with it than panic and whine or *ahem* yell at the messenger. (Yes, I am ashamed.)
I ask God to forgive me when I do not roll better than a flat tire. I also ask my family and friends to forgive me for that unpleasant trait, among the many others I possess which show my lack of faith, patience and character. Sigh.
I pray that I will learn to roll better. If you have some flat spots, I hope you can smooth them out and roll better, too.
-Peace
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Thanks, But...
So yesterday I woke up in the wee small hours of the morning feeling all anxious about things out of my control. (What is not out of my control, other than my responses?) All day, even as I acknowledged that handing it over to God was the thing to do, I worried and wondered and found new things to add to my pile of anxieties.
It was tiring. I think the only time I wasn't worried was when I was doing homework.
At some point it hit me that I am thankful for God's provision, for His hand working in my life and yet...I don't trust Him to follow through. I was still on guard and I was still trying to think through and plan for worst case scenarios. I wonder if next to the phrase, "What are we going to do if fill in the blank happens?" there is a picture of my 'deranged-with-anxiety' face.
I don't trust God? Really? Is that where I'm going?
You see, I offer Him my life, but then I want to be sure to micro manage as much as possible. I feel responsible for anticipating all the worst case scenarios, expecting them even. After all, anticipating them means I will have a plan, right? WRONG! All it means is that I have missed out on the joy of today worrying about possible sorrows of tomorrow, most of which never come to pass.
It also means I do not trust God to take care of me. I say He has my life. I say I am thankful for His provision and then I doubt His goodness. I say He is my portion and then my heart and mind and actions show how little I trust in Him.
I remember exactly where I was when this clicked in my head last night. I was turning the corner to walk up the stairs feeling the weight of so many things on my shoulders when I realized I was saying I trusted God, but never expecting Him to follow through.
That realization took my breath away. Am I all talk, no faith? I didn't think so. I mean I have faith. I believe He is enough and that He will provide. He always does. I just don't always walk the walk.
I worry everything to death. I over-analyze, prepare and plan. I want to do something, to have a hand in things and be in control.
In effect, whenever I recognize and am thankful for God's blessings in my life, it is my habit to say, "Thanks but, fill in the blank with whatever could go wrong."
What I should be doing, what I could be doing, is rejoicing in the blessings, living in the moment and letting God handle things. My worry is not going to change a single thing and will end up sucking up my joy and the joy of those around me.
Last night, I went to bed saying, "Thank You, Lord, for Your provision and blessings. You have provided me with enough and I am going to lean on You and trust in Your word." It is a tough habit to break, to not say, "Thank You, but..." .
Do you have times when you ask God for provision and then can't just be happy when He responds, but instead wait for the other shoe to drop? If you are faced with those worries and fears, check out Matthew 6: 25-31. Jesus says it better than I ever could.
-Peace
What I should be doing, what I could be doing, is rejoicing in the blessings, living in the moment and letting God handle things. My worry is not going to change a single thing and will end up sucking up my joy and the joy of those around me.
Last night, I went to bed saying, "Thank You, Lord, for Your provision and blessings. You have provided me with enough and I am going to lean on You and trust in Your word." It is a tough habit to break, to not say, "Thank You, but..." .
Do you have times when you ask God for provision and then can't just be happy when He responds, but instead wait for the other shoe to drop? If you are faced with those worries and fears, check out Matthew 6: 25-31. Jesus says it better than I ever could.
-Peace
Friday, March 30, 2012
Walking in Worship
Worship. My walk today was filled worship and thanksgiving, praise and gratitude.
The sky was a brilliant blue, the horizon rimmed with wispy clouds. It was brisk, though, and I almost turned around and went back to the momvan but decided to tuck my hands into the sleeves of my fleece the Husband's fleece jacket and persevere...for at least one lap.
As I got out of my van and tucked my earbuds in, I decided I was in the mood for a little Chris Tomlin, "Our God". I just love the strings in the intro and it reminds me of some talented musicians I know and that makes me smile. The song also reminds me of worship at both the MOPS International convention and the Women of Faith event I attended last fall. (Both are wonderful opportunities for growth and renewal. If you can go, please do! I wish I could swing the trip to MOPS convention again this year.)
Into the darkness you shine. Out of the ashes we rise. There's no one like You. None like You. ...Our God is healer, awesome in power...
I've been thinking a lot about how we rise from the ashes. I've also found a lot of comfort in the belief that God is a healer in our hearts and souls and minds. Healing comes in so many ways.
Laura Story's Blessings shuffled through the mix. As I started listening I looked to the sky and said, "Thank You!" I was reminded as I heard the opening notes that I had prayed some passionate prayers last night as I went to sleep and that I had already seen His hand at work in response. Amen! Thank you, Jesus for your blessings.
So I will confess, I might have been singing along out loud in public. Whoops. All the while, you hear each spoken need, yet love us way too much to give us lesser things. (Cue teary eyes...and not because the wind was very brisk.)
As I walked, I reflected on how I had experienced the lyrics in vibrant technicolor in the past week. I thought about how these words could bring comfort to my sweet friend if she was in the "right place" to hear them. How would you find mercies in these trials she is going through? We can't always see that as possible, can we? We're looking through our human eyes and not through the lens of God's promises
Other songs shuffled through and after 45 minutes I was headed back to the momvan when this came on: Careless. I am reckless. I'm a wrong-way travelling, slowly unraveling shell of a man. Burnt out. I'm so numb now that the fire's just an ember way down in the corner of my cold, cold heart. Lord, this time, I'll make it right, here at the alter I lay my life. Your kingdom come but my will was done, my heart is broken as I cry. Like so many times before but my eyes are dry before I leave the floor. Oh Lord, I try but this time, Jesus How can I be sure I will not lose my follow-through between the alter and the door? (Casting Crowns)
That, folks, is the story of the last 6 months or so of my life. I find myself on fire for His purpose and then... I lose my follow through.
I arrived back home renewed and restored unlike the last time I walked through that park. This morning I vowed to follow through and to seek out His will and not my own. How that will shake out remains to be seen. I guess I can just try to remain open to His voice.
-Peace
The sky was a brilliant blue, the horizon rimmed with wispy clouds. It was brisk, though, and I almost turned around and went back to the momvan but decided to tuck my hands into the sleeves of
As I got out of my van and tucked my earbuds in, I decided I was in the mood for a little Chris Tomlin, "Our God". I just love the strings in the intro and it reminds me of some talented musicians I know and that makes me smile. The song also reminds me of worship at both the MOPS International convention and the Women of Faith event I attended last fall. (Both are wonderful opportunities for growth and renewal. If you can go, please do! I wish I could swing the trip to MOPS convention again this year.)
Into the darkness you shine. Out of the ashes we rise. There's no one like You. None like You. ...Our God is healer, awesome in power...
I've been thinking a lot about how we rise from the ashes. I've also found a lot of comfort in the belief that God is a healer in our hearts and souls and minds. Healing comes in so many ways.
Laura Story's Blessings shuffled through the mix. As I started listening I looked to the sky and said, "Thank You!" I was reminded as I heard the opening notes that I had prayed some passionate prayers last night as I went to sleep and that I had already seen His hand at work in response. Amen! Thank you, Jesus for your blessings.
So I will confess, I might have been singing along out loud in public. Whoops. All the while, you hear each spoken need, yet love us way too much to give us lesser things. (Cue teary eyes...and not because the wind was very brisk.)
As I walked, I reflected on how I had experienced the lyrics in vibrant technicolor in the past week. I thought about how these words could bring comfort to my sweet friend if she was in the "right place" to hear them. How would you find mercies in these trials she is going through? We can't always see that as possible, can we? We're looking through our human eyes and not through the lens of God's promises
Other songs shuffled through and after 45 minutes I was headed back to the momvan when this came on: Careless. I am reckless. I'm a wrong-way travelling, slowly unraveling shell of a man. Burnt out. I'm so numb now that the fire's just an ember way down in the corner of my cold, cold heart. Lord, this time, I'll make it right, here at the alter I lay my life. Your kingdom come but my will was done, my heart is broken as I cry. Like so many times before but my eyes are dry before I leave the floor. Oh Lord, I try but this time, Jesus How can I be sure I will not lose my follow-through between the alter and the door? (Casting Crowns)
That, folks, is the story of the last 6 months or so of my life. I find myself on fire for His purpose and then... I lose my follow through.
I arrived back home renewed and restored unlike the last time I walked through that park. This morning I vowed to follow through and to seek out His will and not my own. How that will shake out remains to be seen. I guess I can just try to remain open to His voice.
-Peace
The Voice..A Review
As a member of the Thomas Nelson Blog Bunch (that nifty button to the right --->) I have the privilege of being able to review a copy of The Voice New Testament for freeeeeee! :) What a gift!
We have many Bibles in our home, between the Husband and I both attending seminary, the kids each having a Bible and the Bibles we all have been gifted. I do not consider myself an expert or Biblical scholar. (You should know by now, that I do not like to call myself an expert of anything.) However, I do know enough about scripture to know when I've got something wonderful in my hands.
I returned home from my funeral journey to a package and inside that package was The Voice. What a blessing to find a new way of reading God's word after such an emotional and faith-requiring journey!
The scripture that was topmost on my mind was 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18, so that is where I turned. I read those verses from the New American Bible over and over again as I prepared to read them at the Mass and then again afterward as I reminded myself of the hope in the God's word, so I turned to it immediately and loved the way the story was told. The Voice is intended to invite us to "Step into the story of scripture" and that is just what I did as I read. The meaning did not change from the other translations on my counter (there are three others there right now). What changed was the relational aspect of the text, the communication and accessibility.
The Voice, from what I have read so far, is a wonderful way to experience the New Testament. And I do mean "experience". It is a gift to have a different and yet true way to read scripture.
From the Preface: Our idea was to set up a collaborative process whereby scholars and writers could work together to create a translation that was faithful and accurate to the original languages while at the same time beautiful and readable to our English-speaking audience. (p. xiii)
The phrase faithful and accurate to the original languages is key. I really felt that was a true statement as I sampled various parts of The Voice. Translating from the original language (in the case of the New Testament, Greek) is not cut and dried as there are contextual particularities as well as variations in meaning depending on that context etc. (This happens in English too if you think about homonyms such a "bow".)
The Voice also takes into account that the Bible as we know it is compiled of writings by many different people who were inspired by God. The Voice retains the unique literary perspective of the human writers. Most English translations attempt to even out the styles of the different authors in sentence structure and vocabulary. Instead, The Voice distinguishes the uniqueness of each author. (p. xi) I feel that this uniqueness speaks to and honors our own experience and personal relationship with God. By recognizing that we all may not use the same words and express our faith in the same way, we are honoring that we are all uniquely and wonderfully made in His image but not identical.
The Voice is a wonderful addition to devotion time and and opportunity to experience scripture as a story.
-Peace
We have many Bibles in our home, between the Husband and I both attending seminary, the kids each having a Bible and the Bibles we all have been gifted. I do not consider myself an expert or Biblical scholar. (You should know by now, that I do not like to call myself an expert of anything.) However, I do know enough about scripture to know when I've got something wonderful in my hands.
I returned home from my funeral journey to a package and inside that package was The Voice. What a blessing to find a new way of reading God's word after such an emotional and faith-requiring journey!
The scripture that was topmost on my mind was 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18, so that is where I turned. I read those verses from the New American Bible over and over again as I prepared to read them at the Mass and then again afterward as I reminded myself of the hope in the God's word, so I turned to it immediately and loved the way the story was told. The Voice is intended to invite us to "Step into the story of scripture" and that is just what I did as I read. The meaning did not change from the other translations on my counter (there are three others there right now). What changed was the relational aspect of the text, the communication and accessibility.
The Voice, from what I have read so far, is a wonderful way to experience the New Testament. And I do mean "experience". It is a gift to have a different and yet true way to read scripture.
From the Preface: Our idea was to set up a collaborative process whereby scholars and writers could work together to create a translation that was faithful and accurate to the original languages while at the same time beautiful and readable to our English-speaking audience. (p. xiii)
The phrase faithful and accurate to the original languages is key. I really felt that was a true statement as I sampled various parts of The Voice. Translating from the original language (in the case of the New Testament, Greek) is not cut and dried as there are contextual particularities as well as variations in meaning depending on that context etc. (This happens in English too if you think about homonyms such a "bow".)
The Voice also takes into account that the Bible as we know it is compiled of writings by many different people who were inspired by God. The Voice retains the unique literary perspective of the human writers. Most English translations attempt to even out the styles of the different authors in sentence structure and vocabulary. Instead, The Voice distinguishes the uniqueness of each author. (p. xi) I feel that this uniqueness speaks to and honors our own experience and personal relationship with God. By recognizing that we all may not use the same words and express our faith in the same way, we are honoring that we are all uniquely and wonderfully made in His image but not identical.
The Voice is a wonderful addition to devotion time and and opportunity to experience scripture as a story.
-Peace
Thursday, March 29, 2012
We Will Be Caught Up Together
As part of my weekend, I had the privilege to read 1 Thessalonians 4: 13-18 at my sweet friend's husband's funeral mass.
I can tell you that as I sat in the pew before people arrived, I prayed that God would use me as He saw fit; that everything I said and did was to serve as His hands and feet and not to serve my own needs. I wanted to forget my own self-consciousness as my heels echoed down the aisle, not worry about getting tongue tied as I said, "Thessalonians", not worry about what anyone thought of my reading...that my only purpose was to speak His words of truth in this reading, to vocalize from the page the hope in these words.
I gave my copy of the bulletin to someone, so I was flying blind as to when I was to speak. I thought I would look over the shoulder of the people seated in front of me..but they kept their bulletins closed. (Ach! Do you feel my panic rising? I just kept telling myself, "It's not about me." Thankfully, the priest walked us through everything.)
When I turned to see my friend standing at the entrance, holding the hand of her daughter, my heart was in my throat and my chest was aching with contained sobs while the tears flowed down my cheeks. (Waterproof mascara is not tear-proof. Just sayin'.) As I stood there, I realized that the last time I had been in this church was for a wedding...their wedding. I took some deep breaths and focused on the priest and on God. ("Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace." Oh yes, I did say that prayer to myself over and over and over again.)
When it was my turn to clomp up the aisle (apparently I wear the world's loudest shoes, at least it felt that way) and stand at the lectern, I smoothed out my page, took a steadying breath and read. I do not know exactly where in the scripture my voice began to crack, but it did. I couldn't help it. As I read, "Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds..." I looked up and out at the faces and in my heart I was screaming, "WE WILL BE CAUGHT UP TOGETHER!" That is our consolation, we will all be together again and no matter how horrible and sad and unfair it all feels, this is not the end of the story. (Thank YOU, Jesus!)
The priest's homily focused on this hope and I know his words were comforting to all, as I heard the word "hope" spoken a great deal afterward. When we speak of hope, it is so often for tangible things or things we can clearly envision. ("I hope we win the game." "I hope the baby sleeps through the night.") I don't know about you, but for me, the hope that Paul speaks of in 1 Thessalonians and the hope the priest spoke of, they are difficult to clearly envision. I have that hope, but the paradise we hear of, especially as we await Easter and the resurrection, is just not a place I can design a glossy-pictured brochure of, know what I mean? I can describe it, mostly, but it's kind of nebulous like those clouds we will all be caught up in together. I believe in it and I place my hope in it, but I cannot begin to wrap my mind around the paradise God has prepared for us. I am human enough to admit that my wildest imagination will fall short of God's abilities.
However, as we gathered together, hugging and loving and yes, even laughing, I got a taste of that togetherness. The gift of sharing in the burdens and hurts as well as the joys of life is part of our beautiful and wonderful humanity. Perhaps as we are caught up together in this life, we taste the hope of the time when we will all be caught up together in the clouds. This weekend hope was in the love and care of family and friends joined together to celebrate and grieve a man, to hug a woman and little girl and to stand together as witnesses to a future and love.
It was a glimpse into the truths of the scripture, "We will be caught up together."
-Peace
I can tell you that as I sat in the pew before people arrived, I prayed that God would use me as He saw fit; that everything I said and did was to serve as His hands and feet and not to serve my own needs. I wanted to forget my own self-consciousness as my heels echoed down the aisle, not worry about getting tongue tied as I said, "Thessalonians", not worry about what anyone thought of my reading...that my only purpose was to speak His words of truth in this reading, to vocalize from the page the hope in these words.
I gave my copy of the bulletin to someone, so I was flying blind as to when I was to speak. I thought I would look over the shoulder of the people seated in front of me..but they kept their bulletins closed. (Ach! Do you feel my panic rising? I just kept telling myself, "It's not about me." Thankfully, the priest walked us through everything.)
When I turned to see my friend standing at the entrance, holding the hand of her daughter, my heart was in my throat and my chest was aching with contained sobs while the tears flowed down my cheeks. (Waterproof mascara is not tear-proof. Just sayin'.) As I stood there, I realized that the last time I had been in this church was for a wedding...their wedding. I took some deep breaths and focused on the priest and on God. ("Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace." Oh yes, I did say that prayer to myself over and over and over again.)
When it was my turn to clomp up the aisle (apparently I wear the world's loudest shoes, at least it felt that way) and stand at the lectern, I smoothed out my page, took a steadying breath and read. I do not know exactly where in the scripture my voice began to crack, but it did. I couldn't help it. As I read, "Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds..." I looked up and out at the faces and in my heart I was screaming, "WE WILL BE CAUGHT UP TOGETHER!" That is our consolation, we will all be together again and no matter how horrible and sad and unfair it all feels, this is not the end of the story. (Thank YOU, Jesus!)
The priest's homily focused on this hope and I know his words were comforting to all, as I heard the word "hope" spoken a great deal afterward. When we speak of hope, it is so often for tangible things or things we can clearly envision. ("I hope we win the game." "I hope the baby sleeps through the night.") I don't know about you, but for me, the hope that Paul speaks of in 1 Thessalonians and the hope the priest spoke of, they are difficult to clearly envision. I have that hope, but the paradise we hear of, especially as we await Easter and the resurrection, is just not a place I can design a glossy-pictured brochure of, know what I mean? I can describe it, mostly, but it's kind of nebulous like those clouds we will all be caught up in together. I believe in it and I place my hope in it, but I cannot begin to wrap my mind around the paradise God has prepared for us. I am human enough to admit that my wildest imagination will fall short of God's abilities.
However, as we gathered together, hugging and loving and yes, even laughing, I got a taste of that togetherness. The gift of sharing in the burdens and hurts as well as the joys of life is part of our beautiful and wonderful humanity. Perhaps as we are caught up together in this life, we taste the hope of the time when we will all be caught up together in the clouds. This weekend hope was in the love and care of family and friends joined together to celebrate and grieve a man, to hug a woman and little girl and to stand together as witnesses to a future and love.
It was a glimpse into the truths of the scripture, "We will be caught up together."
-Peace
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