He is near, a post in memory of Uncle Marlin

He is near.
My Jesus is near.

When I lost my Father to brain cancer when I was only 12 years old, I felt abandoned by God.

In my estimation of reality, He was nowhere near.

He was far, far away, handling other business, leaving me all alone, turning me over to my own resources and my own ability (or inability) to grieve and bear the weight of the emptiness left behind by my dad’s passing.

Now I know.

I know He was closer than ever in that moment I looked upon the shell of my father’s body and said my last earthly goodbye.  He was close, so very near to me then and near to me now.

Yesterday, I woke to a text message to pray for my uncle who was undergoing emergency surgery. This uncle--from whom I always felt love and respect--needed prayer, needed God to be near.

Less than six hours later, I received the shocking, unexpected news that he had passed away.

And, in that moment, while I stirred the taco meat on my stove-top and nearly stumbled to the floor after reading the text, GOD was NEAR.

He was near and is near. And I know this now without a doubt. I know because, though my feelings have oft belied the truth, God’s Word, the Truth, tells me He is near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

And not only is He near now, but He was near then when my uncle passed from this earth into eternity.  

I have spent many of my earthly days in lament.

Perhaps, the mixture of my melancholy personality and having experienced a significant loss at an early age inclines me toward a sorrowful disposition. I feel comfortable among the brokenhearted, burned, busted up and barren. These are my people. This is my tribe.

These are also Jesus’s people, His tribe. He was a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief.

Oh, how I breathe more deeply and settle down into my seat when I read these words.

I am not alone. I am known, and Jesus is not afraid of my sorrow. He is not put off and does not try to put a positive spin on it all. He just settles in beside me, wraps His arms around me and says, “This is not how I wanted it all to be for you, for my creation. And, this is not all there is. Take heart. I have overcome. There is more for you than saying goodbye again and again and again.”

And He sends my fellow sojourners to incarnate His love and comfort to me through promised prayers, a phone call, an offer for me to come and talk it all out on a friend’s couch.

Many of those fellow travelers are on the last leg of their journey here on earth, ones that, too, have spent a number of their earthly days lamenting. How meaningful is their comfort, how weighty are their words of hope to me.

They have lived long. They have said many goodbyes. They are not afraid of sorrow.

Today, I am afflicted but not crushed; perplexed but not despairing; struck down but not destroyed.

Death is all around, but life is mine.

I do not lose heart for though my outer self is wasting away, my inner self is being renewed day by day.
My uncle has never been more alive. He is dead to this world, but alive unto Jesus, seeing Him face to face, standing with the One who willingly became a man of sorrows to rescue us from all of our earthly ones.

The grief is painful and heavy but momentary and preparing me for an eternal rest and rejoicing at the feet of my Jesus, who is very near.  

Father's Day

I'm a little late to the game. I usually am. Nevertheless, I wanted to document a thought, just one, I ruminated on regarding my hubby yesterday, Father's Day. 

There was a plethora of  touching tributes to fathers and pictures of dads with their children as I scrolled through my facebook and instagram feeds yesterday. But, I remained silent.  I am not sure entirely why I do this. Mother's Day, Father's Day, people's birthdays. I freeze up. There's always been something about these days having hints of obligation behind one's card, gift or words of well wishes that just keep me at a distance.
I know. I have issues. Let's just move on.

The one thing, the most pronounced and really important thing that makes my husband an amazing father is simply this: he loves us when we are unlovable. He has demonstrated this to me more times than I could enumerate over the thirteen years that we have been married. He is now demonstrating this to our children with a steadfastness that seems impenetrable at times. He is not perfect in this, of course, but he perseveres with some unlovely creatures here in our home at times. 

He is patient and soft-toned many times. He comes alongside us in our emotional pits and encourages us, cheers us on, and reminds us Whose we are, that God loves us, and that we also love God and want to live for Him. And, he makes us laugh when the air becomes just a little too thick for comfort with intense emotion. He lightens the mood and enlivens our hearts to love one another again.

He is a picture of Jesus to us in this characteristic of his fatherhood and as a spouse. Romans 5:8 says, "But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us."

Thank you, Lawrence, for demonstrating some serious love to me, your wife, and to our children, at our most unlovely moments. 

Calendar Dates

March 17th

July 4th

December 25th

Dates that are meaningful to most of us.

But what about:

February 12th

August 3rd

October 27th

These are dates meaningful to me and just a few others.

On February 12th, my beautiful girlie was born.

My boys entered the world on August 3rd.

And, Lawrence made my day and my life by proposing to me on October 27th!

But, then there's March 16th. At the start of 2002, I anticipated that date on the calendar with great excitement and joy. It couldn't come soon enough. It was my wedding day. And, every March 16th since then has been looked forward to with joy.

But, it wasn't always that way.

March 16th is also my late Father's birthday. Since his passing in 1989 until 2002, March 16th was a day I would approach with sadness or at times, anger. It was a day that reminded me of the first major tragedy in my life, my Father's death.

Many of us have calendar days like that. Days that are ordinary to everyone around us but extraordinary to us. Days that are sometimes anticipated with dread and despair. Days that can't come and go quick enough because they mark some pain filled experience in our life.

When choosing a wedding date, I was blessed beyond words to have March 16, 2002, fall on a Saturday. We chose that day to honor my dad. God chose that date to show me something about Himself:

The Keeper of time is the Redeemer of time.

Not all my calendar days that represent something sad in my life have taken on something happy or more celebratory in my life quite as nicely as March 16th. But, I can still come upon those dates and "re-write" them if I chose to view them through the lens of who God says He is and how He says He works in our lives.

Psalm 103:2-6 says,

Bless the LORD, O my soul,
and forget not all his benefits,
³who forgives all your iniquity,
who heals all your diseases,
⁴who redeems your life from the pit,
who crowns you with steadfast love and mercy,
⁵who satisfies you with good
so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.

⁶The LORD works righteousness
and justice for all who are oppressed.

Romans 8:28 says,

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.

and Jeremiah 29:11 says,

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.

Dates exist for me that I still approach with a sense of sadness. But, I also approach those dates and the memories they hold armed with truth. God does and will redeem ALL events in my life and the lives of every one of His children. He will set all things right one day. And until then, I can trust that He is using those sad or grievous events for my good and often the good of others as well.

By faith, I will trust the Keeper of time to be the Redeemer of time, and I will love Him more as I see redemption unfold year after year.