The Day Dad Went to Heaven and the Day Mom Said I Believe.

I Corinthians 14:33a "For God is not a God of confusion but of peace..." 


The Lord comes in the transitions. He redeems in the wretched weariness of grief. He rescues the lost in the darkest hour and positions His sons and daughters as vessels for His will, His goodness.

Approaching the midnight hour, between what was and what will be, a long-suffering Believer arises in the hour of his restlessness, fixes some soup and sits, only to bow his head and meet His Maker. God comes in the transitions; in the in between moments of light passing to dark to Eternal Light again.

And we are left to cover Him with mercy and look for the window where we can bask in the sunlight of the promise of more mercy. The sun rises up and God gives us a new day and another purpose. Our prayers are specific and quick and God numbers each tear and places them in a jar of His amazing grace. It swells, saturated from years, yet every one is absorbed into His own Heart.

Redemption flies in like the flock of sparrows chirping in the tree outside the door. She does not  recognize herself, what was expected yet she did not expect, that for everything there is a season. Yet something draws her to ask.

I listen. I pray. We're all separated from him now and we grieve.

We're all separated from Him and He grieves for our own return.

She knows of Him, but never met Him. I introduce Him, the one who called her husband home.

"I believe, she says. He was a believer, but I...how can I do this? I don't know..."

HE KNOWS. 

Jesus came to break that separation, to fill us with hope for each new day...

that day called tomorrow that seems empty, the hour coming that seems impossible, the minute next that reminds us.

Grace flies in on wings of eagles and hope comes too,  knowing she'll be recognized by her prince and by her King.  She repeats her question again and I answer again.

...answer and reassure her again.

She asks her son if he believes because she never told him, she never taught him. "Yes mom, God is good."

And He does for us the same when we doubt, dwell in fear, garnish a moment of ungrace, reveal our own scarred flesh and want to reopen and reinfect those wounds.

We bring her into our home.  We partake in the Divine dinner and are filled with the sustenance of service of the Body of Christ.

She looks for him in the dark of the unknown, calls out his name.

The Lord calls out for us, the one lost sheep, and he guides us back to the protection of the flock.

The next day, she does what she knows, what she loves, nurturing the garden, culling the old leaves, pulling the weeds popping up.  The Lord sees her without a blemish and the weak will be made strong as I watch her break up the ground as if she is ready to plant.

Night comes again, that loneliness of unrest and confusion. Her grandson is called by an angel to go on a mission, but that is not the real mission. In his return, awake and available to intervene, God places him at the right time to usher in safety, protection and mercy.

A conversation happens. Insight. Clarity. Compassion, Understanding, Grace. Words I will hold onto forever. In her memory, it disappears in the morning mist and fog that hangs heavy in her mind. She readies herself to hear the Word of the Lord, to be in His House for the first time as a Believer.

Dad sings in the choir now.

A recent memory of him I will treasure; this last Christmas Eve, standing steady next to me, holding his unlit candle ready for the light of another to touch his,  and singing every word, "Silent Night...," "O Come All Ye Faithful."

Faith, the Scripture tells us, starts as small as a mustard seed, a bird seed. Yet Redemption is infinity, forever, unmeasurable. We plant it in deep, in the broken-up hard ground He promises to soften.  The gardeners gather around our plot in life to tend to us, and His Word seeps into the ground to find the seed and begin the sanctification of our lives, no matter how long we've waited, how long we have left. We ask for the tools, the wisdom to turn towards the SONshine, live and thrive in His Goodness,  gather in the rays and wait until our own time of Harvest comes around.

Thank you Lord. I am grateful to know the HOPE and PROMISE of a loving Savior. I am grateful that You allow us to be Your servant in the dark and into Your marvelous Light.

God is good all the time and all the time God is good.  You are my Prince of Peace. Amen.

~~~~      

Journal Questions for response or written thought: Where has God given you clarity in the darkness of your life?

When has a memory given you insight into something you sought an answer for?

Do you know the Prince of Peace? Do you need Him tonight, in your own darkness?

Rock of the Aged

Malachi 4:6 "He will restore the hearts of the fathers to their children and the hearts of the children to their fathers."


In recent months, the past experiences and defined roles of children and parents, reversed. My husband's mother and father awake to a time in their life when decisions become wreckless, memory escapes them,  anxiety and fear walk with them in every feeble step,  and restless lonliness seem their only companion. New responsibilities and awareness, along with the tangible hands-on activities of  provider/caretaker progress despite high resistance. Yes, a burden we are enduring with God's wisdom and patience.

Still possessing a driver's license, small trips turned into hours of driving lost and confused. The last time, in early summer, they went missing for over a day and a half. Found somewhat safe, no where near their original destination, it became apparent that driving privleges needed to be voided; not by them, but by us (and the police) after this very worrisome and dangerous outing.

Mom and Dad refuse to understand, to accept many facts. Their unpleasant words, and defiance at our attempt to help them and care for them becomes an emotional place where God must intervene, for our tender hearts and minds remember something...someone different.

Providentially, a wonderful man at our church has started workshops for support and answers to many questions dealing with the elderly and dementia.  My brother-in-law received wise counsel and legal advise from his circle of church friends. We talk frequently and move forward, all on the same page to accomplish their complete care despite all the "kicking and screaming."

After the incident when they went missing, God brought a wonderful verse to me in my morning devotions, Psalm 149:4 (NASV): "He will beautify the afflicted ones with salvation." As scripture does so perfectly, it spoke to me, as He has in other situations. The Lord's got this.

 I cannot know how or begin to understand His plan and purpose, but know that Christ endured the Cross for us in love despite His painful scourgings, his beard ripped out, his side pierced. Then he went to the Cross where our own "afflictions" became beautified.  Believing in that great love, we receive the power of the Holy Spirit to endure, to gain wisdom, to have Hope, when others do not.  We need to exemplify that Hope in every touch, every word, every decision we make, to be the Christ to other's who do not know Him.

While digging up a flower bed this last week, my spade hit a little rock. I dug it up and put it aside with my other gardening debris. When I went to clean up, I picked up the rock and brushed off the dirt chunks around it. It was a perfectly shaped heart. Dark and buried, but still, a heart-shape, my mind immediatley thought about my in-laws.  God beautifies even dark and hard hearts and I shall plant the flowers of grace around it.

Father God, fill our hearts with right thinking, with words that soothe and with compassion. We pray for your protection from those who choose to take advantage, who elicit entitlement, and wish to deceive. Guide us to encouragement through Your Godly wisdom. May minds be clear enough to understand love of family, the love of God. Amen.