Hope in a Manger

Two days ago we learned that my brother-in-law in California passed away. It has already been a difficult holiday season but receiving that news created a vacuum in our hearts. He spent the holidays with us last year here in Tennessee and this past spring we spent a few meaningful days with him in Simi Valley California.

And so once again this aching grief knocks on our door. Grief has been too frequent a guest these last two years and it compounds with each loss. We now feel a bit like a sailboat that sits motionless in the ocean. We lift our heads toward the sky facing the sun and wait for a force that is greater than us to carry us to our next destination. 

It starts as the slightest breeze just enough to warrant the raising of our sail. The tiny ripples of water near the hull of our boat reminds us there are still destinations on our horizon.  This wind that will carry us forward is the mysterious wind of hope.

It is not a conjured up emotion or mere optimism; it is a divine gift. As mysterious as the wind that blows where it will. Hope is the cleft of in the rock that protects us from the raging storm. Hope is the door in the desert that is more than a fleeting mirage. Hope. One of the three eternal mysteries, all other gifts will pass but Faith, Hope and Love.

Hope is my anchor and as the prophet Zechariah writes in the Messianic prophecy about Zion. “Return to your fortress you prisoners of Hope” – Hope is my fortress and my anchor.

Don’t look at the baby Jesus born in a manger through the lenses of a western society that has dramatized and commercialized the message. Look at the story through the lenses of an occupied nation where a young couple from rural Galilee return to Bethlehem because of the decree of a Roman Ruler.  

Then in the most unlikely of places, a stall, possibly a cave where animals live - a young girl went into labor.  I assure you that everything about that moment and place was void of hope and then the tiniest babe, so dependent upon frail humanity,  took his first breath and hope was born. At that moment the heavens erupted into praise. Peace on earth and Good will towards men. This was to be a game changer. 

May the God of hope fill your hearts. It is this mystery that shall fill the bellows of our heart and carry us to the next horizon. Because in the end these three remain, Faith, hope and Love.

Merry Christmas.

Trinkets and Treasure

Today was Mom’s birthday. Born October 6, 1927 - she would have been eighty-eighty. When I’d remind her about her age she’d just shake her head and say “88 is too old” then we’d talk about how Sarah (Abraham’s wife) had a baby when she was ninety. Mom would shake her head and laugh. “Oh Lord I don’t want to have no babies – I’d forget where I put them.” She was fun. Her toughness and humor endured to the end.

Had she lived we probably would have bought her a few earthly trinkets; but what is that compared to heavenly treasure? She spent her life storing up treasure in heaven. She believed each soul was valuable and eternal, because of that this day in heaven is filled with riches. She has no doubt seen individuals from each side of an ocean who gave her a joyful welcomed because she invested in them.

Had she remained on this earth we might have bought her flowers, but heaven must be filled with varieties of flower like this earth has never seen. This house is filled with stunning arrangements that were sent in her memory. I am glad there were those who sent flowers instead of donations. The fragrance filled the air – just a hint, no doubt, of the fragrance of heaven.

Today the sky was blue. The sunshine warm and there was a perfect breeze. 

(Created for A Harvest of Joy book events - sung by Michelle Garcia)

Mom had a long full life but I’m sure she never gave her earthly birthday a second thought. She’s in a place where His presence is the light that shines eternal. The song she now sings is of perfect rejoicing, she is not pining for this place of pain, sin and suffering.  She’s reunited with her redeemer and many dear ones that she loved. In the midst of their reunions they must occasionally fall on their face and raise their hands in praise to the One who is the center of it all.

It would have been fun to commemorate her eighty-eighth year. She and I were both goal-oriented and it’s a nice round number. But it did not happen and I can only celebrate that she is in a place where there is so much more to celebrate. 

In the end I wanted to make sure she knew she was loved. She entered this world in an uncertain time and place. Her mother died by the time she was a toddler and her father soon after. Those early years were filled with uncertainty about where she belonged and who loved her. At the end of her life she had no doubt, she belonged to heavenly redeemer and a loving family.

October 6 will no doubt remind us of Mom for many years. But she’s now received the greatest reward of all. And eternity is filled with treasure rather than trinkets.

The Cloud of Witnesses

One of my favorite verses is found in Lamentations, an entire book written by Jeremiah as a lament for the loss of his nation. I am struck by this incredible irony that in the midst of his grief and lamenting, he pauses and speaks of God’s faithfulness.  “His compassions never fail – they are new every morning  - Great is his faithfulness.”

It was the song we sung as we held Mom in her final hours. “Great is Thy Faithfulness, O God my father --morning by morning new mercies I see.”

We played Gaither videos and sang along with Bev Shea as he sang, “I’d rather have Jesus than silver or gold, I’d rather be His than have riches untold; I’d rather have Jesus than houses or land, Yes, I’d rather be led by his nail-pierced hand.”

This past Saturday I overheard Mom say to her nephew. “This has been the most precious journey. Don’t ever let go of Jesus’s hand.” She was weeping as she finished. “He is the best friend I’ve ever had, and he’s never failed me or forsaken me.”

A song I sang several times was “It is well with my Soul.” At that point I realized I was probably singing it more for me than her. The room was indeed filled with peace and it flowed like a river.

She was lucid and feisty up through Saturday. Sunday was a rough day and it was around 10:30 that she began to struggle for her breaths, we stayed close. I expected she would settle down as she had done so many times before. She was a fighter. It was all she knew how to do. At 4:30 in the morning my husband was at her bedside and by 5 we decided to wake Dad up. In her own way she was calling for him.

I know Mom is now part of the cloud of witnesses that Hebrews 12 speaks of – those who have finished their race and cheer us along as we run ours. I’m happy she is with so many loved ones who have gone before. There is grief but it is enveloped in hope.

Her beautiful journey continues, but I just won’t be an eyewitness as I have been for the past two years. I’m so glad she is free of pain and is dancing on the streets of gold.

Death has no Sting

Mom has been very weak since her two falls over Labor Day. That coupled with the pain and the new lung infection has been an unfortunate combination. We’ve managed as well as we are able, and on occasion we even get some smiles and chuckles.

This past Friday it seemed she might slip into eternity. She was unresponsive for more than fourteen hours and according to the hospice nurse all of the symptoms indicated that she might be in her final hours. We spoke to her, held her hands and told her all the things you’re suppose to tell someone who may be going away on a long journey. We assured her of our love, but also that we loved her enough to let her go. Around midnight she became responsive and the next morning the routine of life resumed.

Here are the topics that it is okay to discuss in front of my mother should you come visit. It’s okay to speak of death. You don’t need to whisper the word. It is just a long hallway that one passes through from this life to the next. As it is written in the New Testament, “Death has no victory – it has no sting.” Death is associated with sin. For the redeemed there is no sin and therefore there is no death.

It’s okay to speak of heaven. We believe in eternity and we believe in a place called heaven. A place where there are no sicknesses, tears and no good-byes. We don’t need a movie to convince us that this place exists. It’s as real as the air we breathe and eternity is just a breath away.

It’s okay to speak about those who have already left this world; friends and family and others that we may have known for only a few precious moments. The other night when Mom was very low we spoke to her of those she may see and we spoke of the many African friends she knew and loved.

Who knows all the songs that will be sung in heaven. There will be new songs and familiar songs, and I imagine there will be songs sung in every earthly language and dialect. So as the family sat around her chair we sang some of these songs. We played the Gaither Hymn videos and we sang. We even sang some familiar Yoruba songs. The below words beckons the Holy Spirit to come.

Wa Wa wa Emimimo (emjoloye)----Wa wa wa Alagbara ---- Wao wao wao (Emimimo)

This morning Mom told a friend that she’s ready to go, she’s weary and weak and she has no regrets. She told her this has been a beautiful life with Jesus as her closest companion. She just wishes everyone understood how sweet life is with Him.

This house is not a place of death: It is a place of life. The blinds are open and the sun shines in. The songs of the birds can still be heard and we are satisfied each morning with God’s unfailing love.

Spoiling of Goods

About a year ago Mother stumbled across the verse in Hebrews 10:34. The way it is written in the version she read was that they, “took joyfully the spoiling of [their] goods.”

Perhaps I should have started by telling the reader that lots things have broken since we arrived. A ceramic vase painted by a beloved niece (I fixed it and it’s hardly noticeable) several mugs, bone china cups, glasses and one crystal bowl. Why there was an increase in breakage after our arrival I cannot say. Some of it happens when Mom’s walker collides with cabinets. But I must claim responsibility for the rest. On occasion I rush too much or I overcrowd the dishwasher. Regardless of the cause, many of her treasured items have broken. When she read the above verse she laughed and announced, “This is it! From now on I will take joyfully the spoiling of my goods.” Now when something breaks we let her know that it’s time to rejoice, we just spoiled some more of her goods.

We moved a hospital bed into the den last Friday. It was not ‘spoiling of the goods’ as much as it was ruining the overall ‘feng shui’ of a home she had thoughtfully decorated. I watched a cloud move across her face when the hospice nurse suggested we order the bed. I knew she thought it would clash with the rest of the furniture. Finally she agreed with the understanding it was only temporary.

After the bed was delivered the house looked as if someone had turned it upside down. Furniture was stacked in all the rooms and the entire place was in glorious disarray. We shifted Mom from chair to chair and worked around her, by the evening we navigated around just enough to get her tucked in. On Saturday everything was in a new place and in some ways we like it more. Have you ever noticed that occasionally you must become undone in order to get anything done?

About thirty years ago Mom read an article that inspired her to use her fine china more often. The writer asked why the prettiest dishes are used only for display, as if we lived in museums. Mom announced that she would be break out the fine dinnerware for family and friends because every moment with those we love is special.  Since moving here we have tried to honor her wishes. We've even set the table with fine china as the four of us enjoyed a meal of leftovers.

These days of the journey really are about so much more than just a few fragile possessions. The accoutrements that fill our lives are fun, but at the end of the day all of it will break or vanish. I think about this as I see the reports of the forest fires and floods that have stolen so much from so many.  Jesus told us to “store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and rust do not destroy.” If we get our perspective correct concerning treasure then we are able to look joyfully upon the spoiling of all of our goods.” It’s what makes the journey rich with blessing.

The Next Generation

This weekend was a weekend of great-great nieces and nephews for Mom and Dad. The beauty of growing forward is realizing God is always doing something new for the sake of the next generation. I appreciate the fact that my mid-eighties parents are able to celebrate this from their recliners.  

The New Testament book of Acts tells us king David fulfilled the will of God for his generation and then he “rested with his fathers.” Mom and Dad fit in that category. They’ve done their work and now it’s time for the next generations. Mom has had some rough days but it was good for her to have future generations milling around her small house and scattered throughout the backyard.

Mom speaks about what God will do in the next generation. Who will he use? Who will be available for the next outpouring of his Spirit? God is not sentimental to the past, he tells us to build memorials so we won’t forget his faithfulness, but never does he tell us to hang on to relics or edifices for the sake of sentimentality. Even as the disciples admired the temple he told them it would be destroyed.

God remains the same. His rule and authority are unchanging. In our limited vision we picture God as old and grey because he is the Ancient of Days. But he is not limited by time or space. He reveals himself to each generation as the faithful unchanging God.  Perhaps the reason we are assured of his consistency is because the earth and its cultures are ever changing.

In each new generation God reveals himself and pours himself out in new songs. The story in Ezra three speaks of the Israelite’s return to Jerusalem after seventy years in exile and once there they restored the altars and rebuilt the temple. Upon seeing the new foundation some of the older priests began to weep because they remembered the glory of the former temple, but the younger generation rejoiced because they were getting ready to build something new.

As I write this entry Mom sits sedated in her chair, she fell twice this weekend, but she didn’t want to cancel the reunion. She enjoys the vibrancy of youth, and she understands the future is in their strong, tender and sometimes clumsy hand. Though she is weary, she celebrates the life that flows out of those who will rise up to worship the same God that she met sixty-four years ago in a little church in East Nashville. 

"Lord, you remain the same forever! Your throne continues from generation to generation." Lamentation 5:19

IF NOT

The usual Sunday routine around this house is that Wolter or I pick up 2 Cracker Barrel Home Style Chicken meals and bring them home. Mom and Dad split one and we split the other. Thanks to the generosity of friends on Mom and Dad’s 61^st Wedding Anniversary we still have gift cards to the Taj Mahal of the South – Cracker Barrel.

This past Sunday our discussion over lunch was about the three Israelite men who did not bow down to the image of Nebuchadnezzar. We spoke about the verse where they young men tell the king, “our God is able to deliver us, but if he does not we will still serve him.” Mom stopped us and said, “I once had a message about that verse entitled ‘IF not’”

This picture is a couple of years old. Mom & Dad

She went on to explain that God is able to do all things, but if he does not, will we still serve him? The world is littered with disillusioned former Christians who bailed on God when he did not meet their expectation. Mom’s message is that we must determine to offer a sacrifice of praise to God all the time. “In all things give thanks.” It is in the fire we are tested, it is in the fire that the bonds are burned off, and it is the fire that the Son of God is revealed.

She’s pretty much lived by this verse most of her life. She’s prayed for many circumstances to change, but God did not change the circumstances instead he changed her, and gave her the strength to face her circumstances. She’s prayed for healing and as of yet she has not received her complete healing. However, she has a better quality of life than most who have suffered from the crippling Arthritis that has been her companion for more than thirty years. Many requests God has either answered “no” or “not yet.” But her faith has not wavered.

Whatever God has not done the fact remains that he has fulfilled one all-important promise. He provided a sacrifice for the sins of all mankind. “God reconciled the world to himself in Christ, not counting people’s sins against them.” The hands Mother lifts in prayer may show the effects of Rheumatoid Arthritis, but she begins each prayer with the words, “Lord, I thank you for the cross of Jesus Christ.” She understands that it is there where she received her greatest healing.  

Will we determine to handle the “if nots?” No matter what he does or does not do, we will serve him. We will not bow down to the systems of this world. We will enter his gates with thanksgiving in our hearts and we will enter his courts with praise.

Hebrews 11 speaks of the heroes of faith, known and unknown and towards the chapter’s end are these words, ‘All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance.’

Like most, this household has a grab bag filled with prayer requests, God has answered some and some have not yet been answered. But through every trial we are determined to serve Him. He is trustworthy and He is our anchor. If He doesn’t deliver us from it He will deliver us through it.