Jealous of death?

Don’t get me wrong; I don’t have a death wish, and I’m not unhappy with my life. It’s just that in the days leading up to Easter, grief hit me in the gut like a sucker-punch.

It hasn’t even been three months since Nathan died, yet sometimes I think of him in heaven and an unexpected wave of some feeling very much akin to jealousy tumbles over me. As Christians, we are taught – and our faith is based on this fact – that we have the hope of eternal life with Christ after death. What an amazing, brain-boggling concept, when you really think about it! The Bible says that to be apart from the body is to be alive with Christ (Romans 8:10-11).

Maybe it’s the big sister in me … that part that says it’s not fair for my little brother to get to see the good part before me! I know that’s probably silly, but I’m just being honest.

As I was pressing through my grief this past week and trying to shrug off the invisible weight on my eyebrows that seemed to want to squeeze out tears every time I blinked, I listened to praise music. Of course, being the week before Easter, the local Christian radio station pulled out all the punches with songs of hope and rejoicing and longing fulfilled in Christ. I wanted to wallow a while in self-pity; instead, I was confronted with Truth. Yes, Nathan got there first. But I can’t ignore the other fact: there’s still plenty of work yet to do here. Hopefully I still have several decades to live, and I know that God can use my time here to teach me, mold me, use me … until it is time to take me Home, too.

Praise news!

So many people have walked alongside my family the past two months as intercessors, encouragers, caretakers, listeners, huggers … and my heart is so full right now, I have to write or else I’ll cry. This afternoon, we received word that my nephews’ mother has signed the necessary paperwork granting custody to me while retaining some visitation privileges.

The document still has to be approved and signed by the judge, but we are rejoicing in this significant step toward finalizing the boys’ custody.

Not in a million years could I ever have imagined going through all that we have experienced the past two months. I miss my brother so much, it aches terribly. Yet, I also know that we serve a mighty God who is bigger than my aches and who will see us through the challenges yet to come.

My small group study this week is on the theme of praise, and it reminded me that we need to praise God in advance of his answered prayers. So, last night at dinner, I suggested that we have a toast and thank God for all that He’s done these past couple of months. Everyone raised their chocolate milk (It was a toast, after all – needed special beverages!) and tapped cups around the table with shouts of “Cheers!”

God is good … ALL the time! All the time, God is GOOD!

· “’For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the LORD, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’” (Jeremiah 29:11)

· “Brothers, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong.” (I Corinthians 25:26-27)

· “Now you, brothers, like Isaac, are children of promise.” (Galatians 4:28)

· “Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful.” (Hebrews 10:23)

waiting

There were at least two or three songs at church this morning on the theme of “waiting.” I don’t know about you, but waiting is not my strong suit; I’d rather being *doing* and seeing results.

I enjoy writing because it’s concrete and allows me to see my thoughts unfolding, literally. I love my job, and one of the biggest things I enjoy about it is seeing the tangible results of my efforts on paper. I have fun building virtual objects in Second Life because I can take ideas from my head and create them right before my eyes! I love being a parent and witnessing those “lightbulb moments” in my boys’ lives. I like working with tools (shhh – don’t tell my husb, or he’ll never volunteer to fix anything ever again! lol) because I have the satisfaction of seeing something broken become workable again.

Waiting … for the unknown, for the seemingly inevitable Murphy’s Law, for God’s sweeping intervention, for things to happen out of my control, to have to rely on someone else’s decision-making … is much more difficult.

We planted a garden this weekend — actually, two gardens — a vegetable garden in the backyard and a flower garden in the front yard. As we were reading the seed packets to learn how long each plant would take to mature, we noticed that they varied dramatically. To the unseasoned gardener like myself, I couldn’t tell one seed from another, much less be able to guess which ones would mature first.

Aren’t my trials like that?? I look at how lonnnnng things seem to be taking to resolve after my brother’s death, and it seems like eons, yet tomorrow will only be two months. There are things I want to fix, push along, get moving, take care of … yet, they are out of my control. Just as I am completely and utterly incapable of making plants grow, I have to wait and watch expectantly as other areas in my life take root and mature.

(There’s a sermon in there somewhere!) I can’t force the plants to grow, but if I neglect to water and fertilize them, I can be sure to thwart their growth or kill them all together. Ouch! Does that mean that I have to continue praying for this person I don’t like WHILE I wait for God to develop in me wisdom, maturity and a forgiving spirit? I have to admit, I think the answer is a resounding Yes.

lessons learned

Some of the most poignant moments of this horrible and astonishing journey these past 7 ½ weeks have been the stories that other people have confided in me: accounts of tragic loss, sometimes relatively expected, yet always life-changing.

People I’ve known for years professionally have opened up to tell me personal stories about losing a sibling or other close family member – sometimes decades ago as a child. Yesterday, someone I dearly respect and regard as a mentor shared some details about a father’s struggle with alcoholism and how the addiction ultimately killed him. It is easy to lapse into a circumstantial perspective when you are dealing with an addict – their good days translate into your good days … their bad days seem to bleed the life out of your happiness. How true that is, and what a trap we allow ourselves to be ensnared within!

I have tried to be better about praying for someone in particular – someone whose poor decisions, shady past, erratic behavior and addictive patterns make it very, very easy to dislike her. When she is agreeable, I can actually feel my stress level decline. When she acts combative, my internal defenses arm themselves. It is a battle to pray for her, yet I know I must … and my prayers need to be sincere. Sometimes, I don’t know how to pray at all and just repeat back to God qualities of himself – that he is just, righteous, worthy of my praise, his mercies are new every morning, and he is not the author of confusion.

Ironically, our small group study this week from Stormie Omartian’s book, “7 Prayers That Will Change Your Life Forever” was on the topic of Submission [to God’s will], and a key emphasis in the chapter was not letting circumstances steer our hearts; rather, trust God. Ouch! The author made reference to accepting Christ into the home of her heart and offering him the guest room. That is the polite thing to do, right? Well, no … not if he is to be Lord of your whole life. Persistently, Jesus knocked on other doors, and slowly she began to open those unseemly areas of her life to his will.

This chapter made me think about all the times I’ve prayed, “God, I trust you, but …”

Whatever the “but …” happens to be, I have to confess it and remember that my hope/rest/security is in Christ alone.

Hanging out in Heaven

Hanging out in Heaven

Yesterday, my middle one made a very insightful remark as we were looking at some pictures of my brother: “This must be really tough for you.” Pretty intuitive for an 8-year-old, eh?

He also drew a picture for me (linked above). It’s a picture of Uncle Nathan meeting Moses and some angels. We’ve decided that God probably doesn’t have any computers that he needs help with, so Uncle Nathan is likely enjoying some time hanging out with famous people from the Bible. (And eating lots of Granny Fanny’s banana pudding!!)

"D'oh" moment

There might not be anything more humbling than to be teaching a Bible study or leading a discussion on spiritual matters and have a truth from God’s word smack you upside the head in mid-sentence. That happened to me last night at our women’s group. We’ve just started a new series on prayer … actually, we were supposed to start three weeks ago, but my life has been a wee bit topsy-turvy in that timeframe. Anyway, we started the intro session last night, and one of the author’s (Stormie Omartian) comments caught my attention like a stray Lego under bare feet in the middle of the night.

Stormie Omartian wrote (my paraphrase) that those of us who are in Christ can be assured that our prayers, though seemingly unanswered at the time, are paving the way for God to work in our lives down the road. She used the word “manifested” to describe how God’s answers to our prayers may not be obvious right away.

I sure needed to hear that.

“D’oh” moment

There might not be anything more humbling than to be teaching a Bible study or leading a discussion on spiritual matters and have a truth from God’s word smack you upside the head in mid-sentence. That happened to me last night at our women’s group. We’ve just started a new series on prayer … actually, we were supposed to start three weeks ago, but my life has been a wee bit topsy-turvy in that timeframe. Anyway, we started the intro session last night, and one of the author’s (Stormie Omartian) comments caught my attention like a stray Lego under bare feet in the middle of the night.

Stormie Omartian wrote (my paraphrase) that those of us who are in Christ can be assured that our prayers, though seemingly unanswered at the time, are paving the way for God to work in our lives down the road. She used the word “manifested” to describe how God’s answers to our prayers may not be obvious right away.

I sure needed to hear that.

flying in the heavens

I have always felt a sense of closeness to God when I fly. I have a habit of praying just as the plane begins takeoff, asking God to surround the plane with angels, under the wings, too. It’s so beautiful to look out the window and find yourself smothered in clouds! I can’t think of many ways to feel nearer to God. Today feels different, somehow, because I have a deeper appreciation for life, in general. I miss Nathan so much.

What is grief?

Plenty of folks with more credentials than me have written a book or two or twenty on the definition and stages of grief. In fact, Random House Dictionary defines “grief” as:

  1. “keen mental suffering or distress over affliction or loss; sharp sorrow; painful regret
  2. a cause or occasion of keen distress or sorrow.”

The “mental suffering” aspect is a poignant choice of words, and certainly regret, distress and sorrow are huge components. One thing I’ve realized the past couple of weeks (actually, tonight will be two weeks exactly) is that grief is a lot more than sadness. I’ve lost loved ones before, and I’ve known school acquaintances who’ve died, but this is the first time that the impact of someone’s death means radical and permanent change in my life.

The myriad of conflicting feelings can be crushing at times. As I struggle to make sense of (or at least come to terms with) my emotions, I’m trying to look at them through the lens of Scripture. (The following excerpts are from the NIV translation.)

Grief is ironic. Joyful times will come in the future, but they may still have a twinge of pain … like when my nephews graduate from kindergarten, lose their first tooth, shoot their first basketball goal, go on their first date, attend prom, graduate from high school, pack for college, get married, have kids … joyful times, all, yet painful that he will not be here for these milestones.

Proverbs 14: 13 – “Even in laughter the heart may ache, and joy may end in grief.”

Grief is emotionally draining. I haven’t cried in several days. I’m still very sad, and no, I’m not a robot; I just think I’m mentally exhausted. Tears will come, and those are cleansing times.

Psalm 119: 28 – “My soul is weary with sorrow; strengthen me according to your word.”

Grief is physically overwhelming. There’s the kind of tired you feel when you’ve had a long day at the office and just want to kick back and veg for a while in the evening. Then there’s the tired you feel when you’ve been up five times during the night with a nursing infant and still have to get up and go to work when the alarm sounds. This period in my life feels more like the latter.

Jeremiah 8: 18 – “O my Comforter in sorrow, my heart is faint within me.”

Grief is for sharing. If we are watchful, I believe God will bring opportunities into our lives to reach out to other people who are experiencing similar pain. We may only be a step or two ahead of them in the journey, but we can pull them along … just as we sometimes need to be pulled along by those who’ve gone before us.

2 Corinthians 1: 3-5 – “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows.”

Grief is a reminder to draw close to God. Quite frankly, when life is hunky-dory, it’s easy to forget to give God the glory. When circumstances suck and we can’t make sense of it all, we turn to God. Praise Him for not turning us away for being so flighty and childish!

Lamentations 3: 32-33 – “Though he brings grief, he will show compassion, so great is his unfailing love. For he does not willingly bring affliction or grief to the children of men.”

Grief is part of life. Death and taxes, so the cliché goes. Grief can help us to have a healthy perspective on life and how better to appreciate it.

Ecclesiastes 7: 2-4 – “ It is better to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting, for death is the destiny of every man; the living should take this to heart. Sorrow is better than laughter, because a sad face is good for the heart. The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning, but the heart of fools is in the house of pleasure.”

Grief is a precursor to joy. If we’ve never known hardship, it’s more difficult to thank God for our abundance. If we don’t experience loss, we may not appreciate all that we still have.

Psalm 30: 11-12 – “You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, that my heart may sing to you and not be silent. O LORD my God, I will give you thanks forever.”

Grief is not eternal. We are not citizens of this world. Those who live forever in Christ will have no more sorrow, no regrets, no pain. There is hope and a promise awaiting us.

Isaiah 60: 20 – “Your sun will never set again, and your moon will wane no more; the LORD will be your everlasting light, and your days of sorrow will end.”

prayer from a young heart

I wonder sometimes what God thinks of prayers that don’t make any sense. Whether it sounds silly or not, I think God still appreciates the prayer of a young heart who beseeches the Almighty in the only way he knows how.

Yesterday at dinner, the lil’ one wanted to say the prayer. In his usual rambling fashion and four-year-old grammar, it went something like this: “Dear God, thank you for today and thank you for our food and please don’t let Uncle Nathan get died again. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

I politely tried to explain that it was very sweet of him to pray for Uncle Nathan, but I reminded him that he already died and is in Heaven now, so we don’t need to pray for that. He gave me a “Mom, you’re a dolt” look and quipped: “I know – I prayed for him not to get died again.”

What could I say? I just thanked him for praying and suggested that maybe next time, we could pray for his cousins.