Climbing Towards Hope

I was 13 yrs old almost 14 on November 2, 1984. I was an 8th grader in middle school living with my mom and dad and brothers in Illinois, and my biggest decision was if my best friend and I should sleep over at her house or mine on Friday night. My future husband was a sophmore in high school, 14 almost 15 years old. He lived thirty minutes away from me, just down the road from Six Flags Great America, with his mom and little sister. 

We didn't even know each other then.

We barely even knew ourselves. 

Yet, one thousand miles away in Colorado, a baby was born on that day who would one day call us (us!) Mom and Dad. 

Fast-forward twelve years to 1997 and the scene shows my husband and I with our own 4 month old baby Cody, living in Wisconsin. A social worker knocks on our door and after spending five minutes in our living room, she drops off two skinny, mop-headed boys ages 8 and 12, and that is the day we all became family. As a newly married couple of less than two years, ourselves in our mid twenties, with all of four months of parenting experience consisting of changing poopy diapers and rocking a crying baby to sleep, we probably were the farthest from ideal parents that anyone could imagine for these boys. For the almost teenager with autism, Tourette's syndrome, and the beginning whispers of schizophrenia especially - we would not be anyone's first pick. However, at the time, we were the only option available within two counties. No matter - this child had already survived twelve and a half years of storms without an umbrella, and he was not about to drown in the mud puddle of trial and error that we had to offer him. 

I am aware that we were not prepared by the world's standards of what "qualifies" a person to make a difference in the life of a child living with the challenges of disability and a traumatic past. We had no special training and not a whole lot of support from so-called experts... but we did have a home, some extra beds, and a carboard box in the closet full of matchbox cars and a plastic alligator that would appear as treasure to two little boys with no other place to go. 

Nineteen years later, I am constantly looking back and cringing at the hundreds of mistakes we probably made in trying to raise this boy along with his brother, but I know in my heart that we got at least one thing right. We listened to God when He said that we were to show our love for Him by taking care of anyone who had no one. Still, I believe the important part of any story is not what people do or who they are, but what God does and who He is. What we had to offer this child was so inadequate - the times that we failed him and still do are numerous. But God takes anything we are willing to give to Him and uses it for His purpose according to His plan. I look at our story and and I see it is about some very imperfect, uncertain, unremarkable people - and I also see that it is about an amazing God who is so powerful, so compassionate, so capable that He can use our brokeness to accomplish His task exactly as He intended. God knew that baby born in Colorado 32 years ago would eventually become our son. 

When our son reached adulthood, my brother became our son’s guardian and successfully took on the responsibility to mentor him over the last 14 years into becoming a man... a man who serves God and who serves his community and never knows a stranger. At the same time, however, our son is also a man who struggles with his intellectual limitations and with the ominous shadows of mental illness. He, like all of us, lives in the constant tension of who he is, who he wants to be, and the challenges of the obstacles in-between. The past few years have been difficult for him, as his emotional memory and his psychiatric symptoms battle to reconcile with his present life and sense of well-being. It is a painful struggle. 

I have been thinking about my son for hours today, his birth day. My heart is broken because he is spending this day that should be a celebration of his life in the psychiatric unit of an acute care center. I have been crying angry tears because life's circumstances are so unfair and many times cruel. For the millionth time I feel completely helpless in facing the darkness of the terrible things in this world over which we truly have no control. 

However, in the midst of the battle with my feelings, I choose to remember that God is a good and perfect Father. I choose to focus on the promise that He has a plan and a purpose for everyone's life - everyone's. And I choose to believe the truth that even when life's journey takes us down inconceivable paths of hardship and suffering, if we look to God to lead us through, we will get to the magnificent destination where He knows we belong.

So, in my brokenness I am praying to God, and looking for Him wholeheartedly to be at work in this mess. I am determined to be grateful for the many good things in the life of my son, and to continue to be hopeful for an even better future. 

It's very easy to feel the face of God shining on us in the good times. I am thankful for those mountain tops we find where we experience complete joy and satisfaction. However, I'm aware that it is in the difficult climb that I grasp for His hand and ask Him to hold me up in my weariness, and to trade my heavy burden for His lighter one. It is in the hard places that I have truly come to know God, and to find rest for my restless soul. That knowledge is treasure, and so, on his birthday today, I pray that my son will find rest for his, also.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” says the LORD. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope. In those days when you pray, I will listen. If you look for me wholeheartedly, you will find me.” Jeremiah 29:11-13 NLT

“Then 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

“Share your food with the hungry, and give shelter to the homeless. Give clothes to those who need them, and do not hide from relatives who need your help.”

Isaiah 58:7 NLT

“Yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time. He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end.”

Ecclesiastes 3:11 NLT

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

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

Until Then, Choose Gratitude

When a gardener plants a flower bulb, she has a vision in mind of the promise of the bloom that will in time grow from that seed. The gardener understands that there is a season for a bulb to remain buried in the dirt, protected from the ice and the wind and the cold while remaining blind to the sun and its light. 

I have been thinking considerably about what it means to be grateful. What I am coming to believe is that gratitude is a concept that encompasses so much more than saying “I'm thankful”. Gratitude is truly valuing the experience, the person, the action, the object - truly valuing the intentions God has for bringing a circumstance into my life. For me, my response to a circumstance affects my ability to find that value. When I respond to a circumstance by choosing to trust God's intention is good, I am showing that I find value in his faithfulness. Attaching that value to a circumstance allows me to have a grateful attitude even when what God has brought me to does not appear to be overtly desirable in my limited perspective.

Gratitude is truly valuing the intentions God 
has for bringing a circumstance into my life.

The gardener knows that eventually, after a time of waiting, there comes a season for the bulb to release the bud, for the bud to break out of the shell that has protected it for a time, and for the shell to become a part of the root system that supports new growth. There comes a season when the nourishment of light from the sun and of moisture from the rain is necessary to the life of the tender young plant. In each of these seasons and with each of these processes, these elements are unpredictable and uncontrolled by the gardener. She must trust that the season appointed for the miracle of the flower blooming is ideal for its growth, despite a dependency on factors not foreseeable at the time of the planting. 

It seems like I am forever balancing on a seesaw of emotion. Wonderful news, heartbreaking news, amazing news, desperate news. At times, I feel weak as I watch the fray of the strings I’ve attached to the circumstances which I find acceptable or comfortable. In my self-centered way, I long to keep life safe, peaceful, controllable. However, in my weakness, I realize that my mere human point of view is limited and incomplete. 

Each day, the gardener tends to the flower, supplementing it with water and with fertilizer as needed in order to support survival and ultimately, the blooming of the plant. One day, after seasons of patient waiting, after days of careful tending, and after faithful persevering through unpredictable weather, the beautiful bloom of the flower appears in all of its magnificent glory.

I know in my heart, if I choose to walk away from the difficult things, if I choose to to walk away from the waiting times - then I am choosing to walk away from the blessings that the processes of the waiting and the enduring will lead me to. I believe in the hope of those blessings because I know God is faithful in his plans of goodness, that he sees the picture of the entire garden in bloom and the beauty in each growth process that leads to that splendor. Still, the toil of the meantime and my limited view of the mud surrounding me challenge my attitude of hope and my ability to value a splendor I cannot yet see.

the toil of the meantime and 

my limited view of the mud surrounding me challenge my attitude of hope 

and my ability to value a splendor I cannot yet see

To patiently wait for the seasons to pass, for the rain to fall, and for the sun to shine are difficult but valuable parts of the growing process. Life is not easy or certain, even in the middle of living God's will. At times, I want to hurry this process along or skip it altogether. At times, I focus only on myself and begin to believe the lie that I deserve to be happy and appeased at all times, that I am entitled to ease, and that avoiding adversity would solve all of my problems. At times, I focus on the life of someone else, and I am deceived by the thought that circumstances other than my own would lead to a better harvest than the one I am struggling for. When I allow my mind to linger on these thoughts, I am choosing not to find the value of the truth. I am choosing to disregard gratitude and instead to believe lies that leave me wallowing in virulent conditions which cultivate bitterness, lead me to despair, and abandon me in darkness.

the painful process of growing 

is a part of the blessing of harvest

Instead of searching for an escape or for an excuse when I become discouraged and weary, I need to be reminded that God did not promise me ease. In fact, God is completely upfront with me in his Word, telling me that I will be tested and that I will feel persecuted by my circumstances, but that the painful process of growing is a part of the blessing of harvest. In the same scriptures, he encourages me that these are the circumstances I can and must endure through. These are the times that I must wait patiently in as he cultivates me to become the mature woman of faith he created me to be, to bloom as he has promised, to become more and more a reflection of Christ, and to harvest his best plan for my life. I need to believe in the the magnificent oasis of his truth, to choose the quiet joy of waiting at his feet for the sunshine and the rain, while being patient in the pruning and in the wind and in the drought. I need to choose to see the value of the process so that I can experience gratitude for the circumstances which bring me to God’s best.

So, here I am, my heart breaking with the pain of a child facing an uninvited future one thousand times more difficult than any he or I would have chosen for his life. Here I am, my heart breaking with the pain of a husband enduring an endless climb up a rocky mountainside covered with slippery slopes and isolating ledges, navigating a path that bears no resemblance to one we would have chosen to walk. Here I am, my heart breaking with the pain of a friend who is daily looking straight into the face of darkness as her arms and her soul protectively encircle two children who have sustained unimaginable horrors, yet, she remains faithfully exposed with them to preposterous situations that she would never have chosen to bring them to. These are just some of the circumstances that surround me and press in on me and call out for me to turn away from the waiting, shriek at me to protect my heart, taunt me to give up on persevering through the unknown. It is excruciating at times to find value in these circumstances that are not what I would have chosen for myself or for these that I love. In this difficulty and in this pain are where I must recognize that God is the one who has chosen, and therefore, the value lies in his purpose, in his ultimate plan for goodness and victory, in his promise that these choices that require us to wait and to suffer and to endure will absolutely with all certainty lead us to a time when we will view our struggles in hindsight as the blink of an eye.

I believe that one day, I will be able to value fully these circumstances that are leading me to a place where God will wipe every tear from my eyes, and where there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain, and where all of these things will be gone forever. Until then, I will faithfully plant the seeds God gives me. Until then, I will look to God in expectation to provide the sun and the rain and the resources I need to patiently endure the waiting time and the seasons that remain before the harvest. Until then, I will make every effort to choose to live in gratitude and with joy by valuing the promise that lies beyond the growing time instead of believing the deception that I am entitled to ease and gratification in the here and now.

Until then...

“Dear brothers and sisters, be patient as you wait for the Lord’s return. Consider the farmers who patiently wait for the rains in the fall and in the spring. They eagerly look for the valuable harvest to ripen. You, too, must be patient. Take courage, for the coming of the Lord is near.” James 5:7-8

“‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ says the Lord. ‘They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.’” Jeremiah 29:11

“He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever.” Revelation 21:4