The Blessing of Burden

On Christmas Eve, our church usually holds two service times. This year our family chose to go to the later session, a bilingual service where the Spanish speaking and English speaking congregations of our church (which typically meet separately) came together to celebrate Christmas with traditional carols (switching between languages at each verse), relevant scripture and sharing of personal experiences (translated into both languages), and a concluding prayer time accompanied by a candle lighting ceremony involving each person present. One of my favorite Christmas hymns, Oh Holy Night, was among the carols that had been chosen for this service. It's a magnificently powerful song describing the wonder of the moment that Jesus Christ was born into this dark, oppressive world. To me, the most significant lines are the ones that describe the awe and the hope that Jesus brings to us - an awe that brings us to our knees and a hope that is possible to recognize and hang onto, even when complete weariness and impending doom seem to be upon us:

A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices for yonder breaks a new and glorious morn

Fall on your knees, O hear the angel's voices

O night divine, O night when Christ was born 

(Oh Holy Night, lyrics by: Placide Clappeau)

Another part of the service that stood out to me happened very unobtrusively during the children's sermon time. As I listened to the story being read, I noticed one of the Hispanic ministers, Pastor Loles, resting on a chair towards the back of the stage. I watched her rub her hand wearily over her round belly, stretched with the miracle of her first child living within her. A faint smile was on her face, her cheeks rosy with the heat of the stage lights. I observed her deliberately take some extra-deep breaths, and suddenly my own chest felt taut with the memories of a growing baby nestled under my ribs, competing with my lungs for room to move. As always happens at Christmas time when I regard a heavily pregnant mother, my mind wandered to thoughts of Mary carrying the precious life of the Baby Jesus within her that very first Christmas night. Without fail, my thoughts of Mary are consistently intermingled with both compassion and wonder. What an immense burden for her to be carrying in such extremely difficult circumstances... but at the same time, what a privilege she was blessed with to be sharing her own life with the life of God himself! On this Christmas Eve night the thought in my mind was this - Mary's burden was also her blessing.

MARY'S BURDEN WAS ALSO HER BLESSING!

A burden by definition is a heavy load, or something which causes hardship or distress. It's connotation is a negative one, rather than a desirable one. 

How many times in my life have I wanted to refuse a burden held out to me? How many times have I railed at God for putting an unasked for burden upon me? How many times have I felt as if I could not take one more step forward because the heaviness of a burden is more weight on my shoulders than it seems I can possibly bear? 

This past year and a half, I have struggled with the burden of depression. It is unlike any other burden I have ever encountered. It is one I have seen others carry, and one that I had told myself I never wanted to experience. I wasn't prepared for how it would slowly creep up on me... how one day I would look around and find that everything in my life seemed to shrouded by it. 

Familylife.com describes living with depression as this. "Your world is dark, heavy, and painful... depression seems to go to your very soul, affecting everything in its path." The website also states that the burden of depression affects 25% of the population. It's amazing to think that a burden that deceives me into feeling completely alone is the same burden that is experienced by over a billion other people in the world. 

For me, the perplexing thing in my struggle has been that at some point early on, I began to recognize the veil that covered me for what it was - depression. I can see it's there. I'm aware of its deception, of its intent to destroy. Yet, I continue to flounder in the presence of it in my life. I have watched in despair as some of my relationships have been strangled by the veil, and somehow I have not been able to reach beyond it to sustain them in a healthy way or, with more than a few people, to sustain them at all. Some people and situations that were once so important in my life have been lost to me, either faded away or ripped away, both experiences very painful and disorienting. Even my environment has been affected by the veil, plunging myself and those close to me into chaos and disorder and conditions that only serve to make the burden heavier, the veil more opaque.

This Christmas Eve as I considered the blessing of the burden carried by Mary, I thought about my burden and the possibility of it having potential to be paradoxically transformed into blessing. Was the terrifying situation which Mary found herself in, in any way comparable to the thorn of depression in my life?

In contrast to a burden, a blessing is a positive label - one defined as God's favor and protection, something prayed for, something for which we are grateful, something that brings well-being, or another person's support. When I think about the smothering presence of depression, it's very difficult to feel that the presence God's favor and protection can rest on me at the same time as a burden that seems so heavy and wearying. But even though my heart feels defeat, my head knows well a Bible scripture that I have read over and over, and at times I find myself holding onto it like a flotation device in the middle of a stormy sea.

“Jesus said, 'Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.'"

Matthew 11:28-30 NLT

Another version of the Bible says, "Learn the unforced rhythms of grace." MSG

I am weary - there is no doubt - and the burden of depression is heavy. Jesus calls to me as I struggle, and because I do know his voice, I recognize it - even through my depressive veil. I know he calls to me with no judgement, no expectation, no "to do" list, no disapproval, no annoyance, no anger, no disappointment, no hidden motives. He calls me with an attitude of grace that I do not deserve, and he desires to honor me with his presence. But even though I know in my head he has already chosen me to be close to him, even though I know in my head that my life has great value to him just as I am - still in my heart I struggle with the weight of the world, and with the opinions and actions of the imperfect people in it. Feelings of rejection and inadequacy in the face of exclusion and judgement are hard to live with and yet, for some reason, they are also hard feelings to give up. Feelings of fear and helplessness relayed by news of incomprehensible violence and unimaginable cruelty are hard to lay down. Feelings of loneliness and disconnection even when I am with those closest to me are hard to look past despite the fact that I know my emotions are not always accurate indicators of the truth.

As I grappled last night once again with the choice of putting down the burdens I have picked up under my own free will, and instead holding to myself the promises that I know are true ( because I know that what God has promised is always true, despite how I feel ), some lyrics from the song Breath of Heaven, also known as simply Mary's Song, came to mind:

"I have travelled many moonless nights


Cold and weary, with a babe inside


And I wonder what I've done


Holy Father, you have come


And chosen me now
 to carry your son

I am waiting in a silent prayer


I am frightened by the load I bear


In a world as cold as stone,


Must I walk this path alone?


Be with me now
, Be with me now

Breath of heaven


Hold me together


Be forever near me


Breath of heaven




Breath of heaven


Lighten my darkness


Pour over me your holiness


For you are holy"

(Breath Of Heaven, lyrics by: Amy Grant)

Like this song portrays, I think that Mary was probably filled with feelings of doubt concerning her situation, with fear and dismay over her circumstances, with loneliness in the face of others judging and rejecting her... but I also think that Mary's faith in God and what he had promised was stronger than her desperation. The author of the song's lyrics explains, "It is a prayer that fits a lot of people's circumstances, because it is a cry for mercy." 

I am laying here now, on this early Christmas morning, glancing out the window at the grayness of the December sky. I cry for God to have mercy for me in my circumstances, to hold me together during the many times today that I'm sure to feel like falling apart for a number of reasons or for not any reason at all. And as my heart reaches out to my Savior, my head recognizes the blessing in the burden I'm carrying. The blessing comes with bringing the burden to Jesus, in exchanging it in his presence for the simplicity of being loved by him, in looking away from despair towards hope, and in the faithful expectation of waiting for the day when the veil of depression is torn forever. 

"Breath of heaven

Lighten my darkness

Pour over me your holiness

For you are holy"

"The people who walk in darkness will see a great light. For those who live in a land of deep darkness, a light will shine....For a child is born to us, a son is given to us. The government will rest on his shoulders. And he will be called: Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace."

Isaiah 9:2-6 NLT

The Light Side of Dark

"THERE ARE STORIES ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED... IT'S TRUE. ALL OF IT. THE DARK SIDE, THE JEDI. THEY'RE REAL." 

My husband, my son, and I had a dinner and movie date last night, and we went to see the new episode of StarWars. It was so great seeing some of the old characters and storylines blend into new exciting ones, and others conclude as lives reaped what had been sown. As I watched the story on the screen whose beginning first thrilled me when I was the age of 6 years old, the story which continued to unfold across my lifetime to where my present age is 45 years old, I couldn't help but consider the allegorical connection. I thought about how we don't know at the beginning of our life stories where the adventures will lead - what conflicts might come, what relationships will develop, what trials will be faced, what lessons learned. Maybe if we did, we would choose to skip the hard parts, the scary parts, the parts and the people that bring difficulty and distress. However, we need to realize that it's by experiencing the conflict - facing each challenge, living through pain and fear and anger and sadness, gleaning the good stuff and leaving behind the bad - that we are able to find the blessings of satisfaction, of gratitude, of contentment, of joy. It's by choosing to live through every moment written for us that we get to the ending that was meant for us. 

IT'S BY CHOOSING TO LIVE THROUGH EVERY MOMENT WRITTEN FOR US THAT WE GET TO THE ENDING THAT WAS MEANT FOR US.

Last night, as I sat in the theater next to my husband and my grown son watching the continuation of a life spanning saga unfold on the movie screen, I thought of the numerous challenges I've encountered both in marriage and in parenthood. As difficult as many of those experiences have been, I know without hesitation that I would purposefully choose to relive each arduous moment because I believe it is only with the toil that an appreciation for the preciousness of contented moments grows, such as the gratitude and joy I feel in just spending time with my family. 

As the movie ended with the scene of the scarred hero contemplating the light saber marked with his life experiences held out by the hope filled young heroine, my StarWars-inspired reflection ended with these conclusions: 

1) The prize of a valuable relationship is worth the difficult responsibility required in striving for that connection to live and to flourish. 

2) No matter how dark the circumstances around us seem to be, there is there is nothing so dark that it cannot be overcome by light. Like the Apostle John wrote in chapter 1 of his book, "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it.” 

Oh, and StarWars: Episode VII? Definitely four stars! ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Relentless

I attended a summer youth camp as a nurse a few weeks ago.  A few times that week, I was able to get away from the health center in the evening to listen to the guest speaker. One night as he talked, the speaker hushed the large audience into silence and directed each of us to wait and listen for God to whisper a word into our heart. The word that came to my mind and echoed over and over again was "relentless". It wasn't a word that had been on my mind or in my conversation that week, but the feeling that came over me as I thought about it during that moment, was almost one of familiarity. Hearing the word in my head felt confirming… like when elderly folks empathetically discuss the difficult happenings in someone else's life, nodding their heads up and down in understanding that life is not easy, and that every person is faced with their own set of struggles and disappointments as they move through one day after another.

I quietly slipped through the side door to return to my nursing duties, and was not surprised to be quickly followed by my most “frequent flier”. I greeted him affectionately, and asked if he needed something, although I suspected I knew what it was.

“The bandage came off again,” he said sheepishly, hands in his pocket

“How do you know?” I asked, looking curiously at his feet which were enclosed in both socks and shoes, just as they had been forty minutes earlier. I myself, had carefully eased the sock over his right foot, then watched as he put on and then tied the shoes I had directed him to wear instead of the flip.-flops he had been wearing throughout that day.

“Well, I had to look at it!” he said in a worried voice, anxiety clouding his deep brown eyes. “I know that stick poked into my bone. It probably has a hole in it! It’s gonna rot my foot off!”

I sighed as I thought about the 4 or 5 times I had already rebandaged a small cut under his toe where a stick had lacerated the skin a couple of hours earlier.

“Buddy,” I said as I handed him two band-aids and sat in a chair, “I promise you, it’s just a small cut in your skin, there is not a hole in your bone, and your foot is not going to rot off… it’s really not!”

He looked at me miserably, and I thought of the note his mom had given me about his struggles with worry, as well as her suggestion that I try and distract him. “Distract him?”  I thought, “I have tried to over and over, all week long! It’s been one small thing after another… some real, some imagined… but, truly, this boy is impossible to be distracted! He is relentless!”

Relentless!

Suddenly, I knew what to do, because God had whispered that word in my ear. “Hey…” I said softly to my young friend. “I’m not going to bandage up your foot anymore. I gave you those two extra bandaids and you can put one of those on it yourself if you would like to. I know that we cleaned it and put ointment on it, and I know that even though it’s a bit sore, it’s gonna heal in a few days, and you’re gonna be just fine!”

“How do you know?” he mumbled, not looking up, shuffling his feet on the floor.

“Because I do,” I said. “God made that skin on your foot to protect your bones from that stick. He made that skin so that even when it gets hurt doing it’s job, it can heal itself by making new cells and becoming strong again. I trust God! I trust that when he made you, he did a great job, and that you are going to be just fine.”

I paused and waited, my eyes on the top of his head.

Finally, he raised his gaze towards me, and his eyes filled with tears. “But I can’t stop thinking about it!”

“Well…” I said, and thought for a moment. “How ‘bout this? Every time you think about it, Buddy - that’s an opportunity to remind yourself that God is relentless in His goodness and in His faithfulness. And even if you think about it a hundred times before you go to bed tonite, that’s a hundred chances you’ll have to thank God for His goodness and His faithfulness and to ask Him for healing.”

I sat back while he contemplated my words silently. As we heard the voices of more kids coming up the sidewalk, he stuffed the bandaids in his pocket. Giving me one last puppy dog look, he disappeared out the door.

After five days of providing around the clock nursing care for hundreds of teens, I went home from that camp drained and exhausted, but in the back of my mind still, was the word that God had given me just the few nights before.

Relentless.

It made me think of the sun shining in the desert, or the ocean waves pounding against a cliff… things that are powerful, naturally driven, connected with both life and destruction.

Relentless.

I turned the word over and over in my mind, and I looked it up in the dictionary:

Relentless. /rəˈlen(t)ləs/ adjective:

oppressively constant; incessant...

I looked it up in the thesaurus:

persistent, continuing, constant, continual, continuous, non-stop, never-ending, unabating, incessant, unceasing, endless, unremitting, unrelenting, unrelieved, unfaltering, unflagging, unwavering, dogged, tenacious, single-minded, tireless, indefatigable...

Indefatigable!!! I knew as I read that particular synonym that God was not using relentless to describe me, because anyone who knows me, knows that I am without a doubt fatigable!

However, this word relentless -  it did seem to describe how I often feel about my own life circumstances, and, more-so perhaps, about the circumstances present in the world around me.

My own family lives daily with the constancy of a chronic incurable disease in our midst. We arrange ourselves - our activities, our conversations, our noise level, our holidays, our relationships… our entire lives really, around the incessant presence of pain. Our need to consider it is never-ending, and our quest to tame it is unwavering. We seem to be in a continual pursuit of balance  - not wanting to bow down to pain by sacrificing our joy, yet not wanting to instigate pain with a disregard for its latent tendency to react strongly to exuberant living. This persistent dilemma of the unknowns about the future is relentless in its attempt to steal today from us.

There are innumerable atrocious circumstances in our present reality. Every day we hear about the horrors in our own country and across the world, of what one or more humans under the influence of unimaginable evil, will do to the most pure and innocent of all people. These situations persistently, continually, constantly, continuously, never-endingly, unabatingly, incessantly, unceasingly, endlessly, unremittingly, unrelievedly, unfalteringly, unflaggingly, unwaveringly, doggedly, tenaciously, single-mindedly, tirelessly, indefatigably never ever stop pursuing destruction. They are relentless!

I began to wonder why God would whisper this discouraging word to me, why he felt a need to plant it within me when I already struggle each day to not drown in heavy laden thoughts of the hopelessness of this world.

I thought again of the relentless sun, shining hotly on the desert plain, baking the ground a full thirty degrees hotter than the stifling air above it, until it cracks into a mass of chaotic grids. I thought of the powerful ocean waves pounding relentlessly against a cliff, undercutting it with sand and water and rock, over and over and over again, steadily destroying it into pieces that crash into the water below.

As I continued over the next weeks to on and off muse over the word, a revelation finally occured to me in the middle of my antagonistic thoughts about it. Relentless, the very word that exemplifies the arduous adversity in life - this word, this very same word, also illustrates everything that my God means to me.

God is relentless in the pursuit of my heart.

God is relentless in his desire for my devotion.

God is relentless in his faithfulness to never leave me on my own,

God is relentless in keeping every single one of the  promises He has made in His Word.

C.S. Lewis said, “The great thing to remember is that, though our feelings come and go, God’s love for us does not. It is not wearied by our sins, or our indifference; and therefore, it is quite relentless…”

The Apostle Paul wrote, “And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love.  No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:38)

If the same word that describes the circumstances I am surrounded with, also describes my God, then I can only conclude that God is present with me in all of these circumstances.Though the world can be horrific and each day filled with difficulty and suffering, if I walk through the desert in the presence of God, He will be relentless in using what otherwise would steal and to destroy anything good in me, to instead give me life, and to give it to me abundantly. A relentless life is a blessing, not because I avoid the hard things or because I am blind to reality, but because I can walk through the midst of it all with God, and in His presence find peace instead of resentment, calmness instead of anger, patience instead of frustration, and love instead of hatred.

God created the sun to light up the world and nourish His living creation - the same sun that burns, brings life. He created the waves to carry life in the sea, to carry life to the shore - the same waves that crash, carry life.

I think that I finally understand the intention of God in placing that word in my mind one month ago. He was reminding me of who He is, of what He wants, and of His promises to me. He knows that in my humanness, I struggle more often than not, to appreciate and embrace - or at times, to even just tolerate the relentless life I live in. He gave me the gift of a word to remind me to have hope in His faithfulness and to wait for His joy.

The morning after that chapel service at youth camp, as I unlocked the door to the health center, my buddy was standing there waiting for me. I smiled and invited him in, wondering how he had fared through the night with his worry.

“Umm, can I have another bandaid?” he asked, a bit sheepishly.

I held one out to him silently, a questioning grin on my face, I’m sure.

“I know God is going to heal it,” he said confidently, then gave me a sideways look. “I know He is... even though I still think my bone is rotting… even though my foot might fall off.” His confidence waned. “Maybe I should go to the doctor when I get home?” he asked uncertainly.

With a sigh, I pulled out a chair and motioned him to sit down. “C’mon then buddy, take off your shoe and let’s have a look, and let’s go over this again…”

Relentless...

" I’ll never forget the trouble, the utter lostness,

   the taste of ashes, the poison I’ve swallowed.

I remember it all—oh, how well I remember—

   the feeling of hitting the bottom.

But there’s one other thing I remember,

   and remembering, I keep a grip on hope:

God’s loyal love couldn’t have run out,

   his merciful love couldn’t have dried up.

They’re created new every morning.

   How great your faithfulness!

I’m sticking with God (I say it over and over).

   He’s all I’ve got left.

God proves to be good to the man who passionately waits,

   to the woman who diligently seeks.

It’s a good thing to quietly hope,

   quietly hope for help from God."

(Lamentations 3:19-26, The Message Bible)

“And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.”   (Romans 8:28, KJV)

“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full,”

(John 10:10 NIV)

“Sustain me according to your promise, and I will live; do not let my hope be crushed." 
(Psalm 119:116)

Beyond The Wilderness

A desert wind is a powerful force... It flings waves of sand into undulating dunes, mimicking the motion of the sea. It dries the arid landscape into a myriad of wandering cracks which converge in a hundred variable directions. It ceaselessly erodes crumbling sandstone to expose magnificent sculptures of ombré rock once hidden beneath the loose terrain. It is the destructive force of this stalwart wind that reveals the beauty of the desert plain.

It seems like for a long time, I have been wandering in the wilderness of life, my head down in the gale, my mind open to the voice of my Creator, my spirit ebbing and flowing to and from hope. I have learned more and more to wait with my Father, as He patiently teaches me to stay in the oasis of His arms and the shelter of His will. Lately, I've noticed, He has lifted my chin and shielded my eyes from the brilliance of His light, to show me more of the beauty in the residuum surrounding my life.

I have discovered, as I look around, that my life here in the desert is intersected by many lives near me - each one beautiful in a different way than the next, each one pummeled by circumstances which have shaped the person living it into an exquisite form of mercy and grace, clinging to the hope of our God's sovereign will.

"In His fierce love, God sometimes impels us into the wilderness... Amidst harsh dehydration, God’s presence remains."

-Margaret Feinberg

I do not know why God's journey for me must lead, at times, through heartbreak and anguish and separation and sorrow and the difficulties of the desert. It's hard for me to understand why loving someone requires I must go through times of suffering directly related to that love... but the treasure for me in that mystery is that even so, even so, I find that I am still willing to choose to love. I can only comprehend the catalyst of this voluntary sacrificial love by considering what I know of the generous love of my Savior.

...when Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart out of this world to the Father, having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. 

-John 13:1 ESV

He loved them to the end!

That is the part that captivates me. That is the part that grabs my heart and begins to try and shape it to look like the heart of Jesus. Knowing the excruciating task of the cross was immediately before him, knowing that the suffering ahead of him was because of the sins of even the very people he was spending his last hours with, even so, even so, Jesus chose to continue to actively love them in their sin. How amazing, how freeing to be always able to choose love and to always make that choice expecting nothing in return!

As I raise my head and look around the wilderness, I see the breathtaking reflection of the love of Jesus Christ in the actions of people whose lives are neighboring mine: 

• I see one child wild and wounded, embraced for a time by people who have loved and restored her by choice before reluctantly releasing her in obedience and faith, too soon for sane comprehension, into a world of instability and darkeness. I see these people, left behind, continuing to expose their hearts, already raw with the weariness of battle, choosing regardless to continue to grasp in their love still another child... to keep her from drowning herself in silence while covered in iron-willed armor. As they struggle to clothe her spirit instead with light and with hope and with an openness to the healing love of her Heavenly Father, they are desperately aware of the shadowed path ahead that wants to extinguish her flickering flame and wrap her again in grayness and void. Yet, I see they are choosing to love, even so...
•  I see an abandoned baby boy, received with open arms and open hearts of parents who treasured him without hesitation before they even touched him, despite an awareness of years of expected medical crises and brain surgeries ahead. I see that same boy grown into a young man, ravaged by the emotional effects of his physical battles, still loved, still accepted, even through trying periods of rebelliousness and desperate acting out. I see parents who have loved him unceasingly, even so...
• I see a beautiful young girl, blind to her own exquisite worth, straining heedlessly against the resolute arms of her steadfast parent, whose overflowing heart refuses to surrender a child to the deception of circumstantial value. I see a parent hanging on with love, even so...
•  I see a young couple tending their seedling children, nourishing their growth with laughter and faith. I see their faces marked with love and concern as one child wavers at times in the persistent desert sun. I see them reaching up to God in faith, a faith that in turn reaches deep through the desert sand to establish enduring roots of hope and resilience. Already they have learned to bend rather than break with each gust, holding onto the certainty of their Father's hand, even as their child holds to theirs. I see they are determined to never let go of His will, even so...

“Go out and stand before me on the mountain,” the Lord told him. And as Elijah stood there, the Lord passed by, and a mighty windstorm hit the mountain. It was such a terrible blast that the rocks were torn loose, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. And after the earthquake there was a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire there was the sound of a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his cloak and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. And a voice said,“What are you doing here, Elijah?” 

-1 Kings 19:11-13 NLT

When I find myself in wilderness moments (or days or months or years), even though I may feel afraid or uncertain, I know it is important that I try to remember - God's voice does not consist of the circumstances that are pummeling me. His is the gentle whisper that embraces me and directs my response.

Just as you cannot understand the path of the wind... so you cannot understand the activity of God, who does all things.

-Ecclesiastes 11:5 NLT

Today, I see an orphaned infant turned toddler, joyful in spirit though abandoned at birth to her own circumstances - a precious child adored by all whom she touched, yet a child passed without permanency from person to person to place to place, until one predestined day last summer, she found home in the family who chose and were chosen to love her for keeps. She blossomed like a desert rose exposed to the purity of sunlight. Her face was often lit with a smile and her arms open generously to share whatever was delighting her at the moment. Her family embraced her completely, investing their hearts into her life, choosing to see her through eyes of hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. (Romans 5:5 ESV) Within a few short months, the life of this little child profoundly touched the family that began to claim her as their own, and she grew their hearts and their experiences in directions they had not conceived of before. In the space of one short day this week, I see this family devastated - yet choosing in faith to trust in the goodness of their God, the Author of their precious child's life, even as they discovered her story had been written so differently than they ever could have known - a story now merged into their own, changing it forever. And while her chapter on this earth may have ended, her presence will never be forgotten. I see her still in my mind, her little arms signing "baby" as she thrilled over her sweet companions sharing the room with us that day. I imagine her right now, snuggled blissfully in the arms of Jesus and enraptured wholly in His love, content to finally be home forever, beyond the wilderness of the desert. She loved until the end.

When I think of all this, I fall to my knees and pray to the Father, the Creator of everything in heaven and on earth. I pray that from his glorious, unlimited resources he will empower you with inner strength through his Spirit. Then Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in him. Your roots will grow down into God’s love and keep you strong. And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is. May you experience the love of Christ, though it is too great to understand fully. Then you will be made complete with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God. Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think. 

-Ephesians 3:14-20 NLT

You will show me the way of life, granting me the joy of your presence and the pleasures of living with you forever.

-Psalm 16:11 NLT