A Time to Mourn

If you would have told me this morning that I would write two blog posts today, I would have thought you were nuts (here's the other one).  But, you would have been right.  Anyway…

“Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.”

~Romans 12:15

I knew today would be different the moment I walked into church.  We were late, and we walked into the side door as the church was singing “How Great Thou Art” in Kikaonde, the local language.  This hymn has been a favorite of mine for as far back as I can remember.  When singing the refrain, I feel as though my soul really is singing.  So even though I did not understand the language in which they were singing, I sang along in English.

But this hymn is more to me than my soul’s song to God.  It reminds me of my grandmother who passed away in 2005.  It has been 5 and a half years since she passed, but sometimes it feels like just yesterday.  At her funeral, we recessed to the choir singing “How Great Thou Art,” and now I can’t hear that song without thinking of her.  I praise God that she knew Him, but sometimes the pain of missing her comes, and I can’t help but pause and cry.

This isn’t the only song that does this to me, either.  Another favorite of mine – “Here I Am Lord” – has taken on multiple layers of emotion as well.  It is a song representative of our call into the mission field.  It has been a favorite of Tiffany’s for longer than I’ve known her.  In fact, she processed to it at our wedding.  But our wedding would not be the last time she processed to this song.

My cousin Michael was killed by a train in September of last year.  I posted a blog about it back in the fall, but the hole is still there.  At his funeral, the family processed into the sanctuary to “Here I Am Lord.”  Although I have not heard this song today, or even recently, I am daily led to prayer for my family as I have a memorial card for Michael serving as a bookmark in my Bible for my daily devotions.

So, why am I getting emotional about Grandma and Michael today?  Because I received an email this afternoon from my best friend.  His paternal grandfather passed away on Friday.  And so I am mourning with him, just as he mourned with me when I lost my grandmother and my cousin.  My heart goes out to him and his family as they look to God to comfort them during this time (which He promises to do; see Matthew 5:4).  The pain will be real, but so is the comfort they have in knowing that Grandpa Allen is with Christ in heaven.

Our prayers are with you, Allen family.  Please know that, though we cannot be with you during this time, we love you dearly and are with you in spirit.  May God wrap His arms around you, holding you close and reminding you that He is ALWAYS there.  Always.

Crashing Down

About a week and a half ago, I crashed. Hard. Both literally and emotionally. A beautiful day, I decided to skip the gym routine and head out to the Rock Island Trail for a nice, peaceful bike ride. About eight miles out I hit some ruts in the trail and the next thing I knew everything was out of control and I was tumbling - with my bike. Crash.

A moment of shock and silence, and then I saw the bloody scrapes on my forearm and felt pain in my leg, and started into one of those whimpery turns sobbing loud, completely unfeminine cries. It didn't last long because there was no one around and therefore no one to feel sorry for me. I stood up, picked up my bike, and planned to remount, finish my ride, turn around and go back.

But, my leg wasn't bending - getting stiffer - and bigger - by the second. I wasn't getting back on that bike. Not to mention the fact that the handlebars were twisted completely sideways. I called Luke and we tried to determine where I was on the trail. Having seen a farmer on a tractor in a nearby field, I hobbled to a clearing and waved him down. He helped me into his tractor, bike on the crop tiller, and took me to the road so Luke could pick me up (we live a good 15-20 minute drive from the trailhead, and I was another 8 miles out from there, so it was going to take him awhile). Then a van drove by, and seeing me sitting on the side of the road, the woman turned around and asked if I needed help. She drove me to the trailhead where I met Luke and we went to the hospital.

Gotta put in some shout-outs to God here. We praise God for my "good samaritans" along the way, and for Luke's recent promotion to full-time that provided health insurance (we went a year without!). We also praise God that after hours of waiting, X-rays showed I did not break my femur. Just deep, deep bruising of my right thigh and seriously scraped up forearms. Follow-up X-rays a few days later showed a suspected fracture in my left radius (inner-elbow), but the doc said Friday that the best way to treat both my arm and leg are to use them. That's my kind of doctor!

There's a bit of a side story here, though. Exercise to me, is a comfort. It's a piece of me - of my identity. I work out hard and push the limits. I have this whole complex about people not possibly loving me for me and actually wanting to spend time with me. I have to either help them - i.e. be "useful" (Definitely a Martha), or impress them - make them proud - have their applause. I guess exercise meets that need for me. This, human "doing" identity prevents me from having to be too vulnerable. What am I afraid of? Me. That when people know the real me - and know my heart, they'll run away and I'll be alone.

Enter Captivating, a book I just happened to have started a few days before the crash about a woman's heart. In fact, the subtitle is "Unveiling the Mystery of a Woman's Soul." The night after I wrecked, I was sitting in bed and opened to the chapter titled "Healing the Wound." Appropriate, huh? Here's an excerpt:

"Something sent its roots down deep into her (Eve's) soul - and ours - that mistrust of God's heart, that resolution to find life on our own terms. So God has to thwart her. In love, he has to block her attempts until, wounded and aching, she turns to him and him alone for her rescue.... Jesus has to thwart us too - thwart our self-redemptive plans, our controlling and our hiding, thwart the ways we are seeking to fill the ache within us. Otherwise, we would never fully turn to him for our rescue. Oh, we might turn to him for our 'salvation,' for a ticket to heaven when we die.... But inside, our hearts remain broken and captive and far from the One who can help us."

I like to stay in control. Exercise helps me do that - to control my schedule, my body, and create just enough distance to prevent vulnerability. But as you sit in a hospital unable to put weight on your leg... as you wait to hear whether or not you will have a cast on your arm... I suddenly wasn't so much in control. Am I going to balloon up and gain 100 pounds in a week? Am I going to have extra time to fill and have to face myself and my heart and maybe even what God wants to speak to my heart? Is it going to be hard? Is it going to hurt - and not physically, because that I can handle - I mean hurt inside? Can I trust you God? Do you care about my heart here? Do you care that I'm feeling very vulnerable, exposed, helpless? Do you care that I'm scared?

You thwarted my self-redemptive plan and only to You can I truly turn for comfort - for healing. Who am I to question? As Job said, "I know that You can do all things. No plan of Yours can be thwarted... You said 'Listen now, and I will speak; I will question you and you shall answer me.'" (Job 42:2,4)

Amazing how He gets our attention sometimes. I'm working on this trust thing - and allowing myself to be just a bit vulnerable... After all, I'm writing this for the world to see - letting you see just a piece of my aching heart. Granted, old habits die hard and I'm still exercising - working with pool therapy and building strength and mobility back, but that doesn't negate the lesson... and the fact that Jesus is the only Solid Rock, the only place where we can find healing and comfort. It's in His hands - not my scraped up, weak - and constantly striving ones. Is He your Solid Rock? Have you trusted Him with your heart?

"The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God stands forever." (Isaiah 40:8)