Despair, Hope and Heaven

The crystal clear skies and the glorious weather gives more opportunity and motivation for collecting my thoughts and writing about the experience of traveling down the road of deep sadness.  This evening I took a typical walk at sunset, but there was an extra bounce in my step as I was struck by the reality of such incredible beauty in the midst of horrid and incomprehensible sights and experiences.   So much of what I've seen in the recent months has left me completely dumbfounded.  Three months ago, I rode on a bus in Zambia and stared out the window in stunned and profoundly sad silence.  We drove away from a compound where we met hundreds of the most BEAUTIFUL children who go without food, water, warmth, beds and parental care each day.  How do you make sense of that?  Two months ago, I watched my father take his final breaths and leave this world just a few weeks after climbing to the peak of a mountain with him.  As Dad completed his last climb, he cheered on the other hikers and he was at the top of his game.   It didn't seem possible for him to be unconscious and unable to order us around as we tried to grasp the enormity of losing him before our eyes.  As the fog of a "grin and bear it season" clears, writing seems to be a way to make sense of seemingly senseless circumstances.  Since the teen years, my faith has been an anchor and my love affair with this world ended when I became a Christian 25 years ago.  Still, this abiding faith takes on a whole new light as I increasingly despair of the brokenness of the world.  While enjoying the glory of a picture perfect night, I was reminded of the reality and hope of our permanent home in heaven where there is no death, sadness, hunger or destruction.   Such a brief glimpse of eternity lifts my eyes off of present sorrow and encourages my soul greatly!

The Little Engine that Couldn't

While reflecting on the last few months, I'm struck with the body's response  to stress and grief  and the contrast of reaction when finding relief.  It's as if you could walk on water when the weight is removed.  For the first time in decades, I've physically felt anxiety in new ways.  Images of "The Little Engine That Could" come to mind.  I'm not implying an extraordinary ability, just communicating the weight of a heavy load that was unfamiliar to me.  (Come to find out teenagers don't have a pause button as you come to the end of yourself.)  Honestly,  there is no pause button for any of life.  Fast food servers still bark at you.   Families are still disfunctional, even in the saddest of times.  Still, another thought about the Little Engine comes to mind.  While the book leads us to believe in our ability to overcome and challenge ourselves, I can only relate with the part of a burden weighing me down heavily while continuing on the path ahead.  I'm thankful for the overwhelming support, most especially the Lord Jesus, pushing me each day and even carrying the burden for me as I kept going.  Friends and family have cheered my weary spirits and run along with me while my gaze has often been downcast and defeated.  I've felt the weakness of my flesh like never before and have relied on the loving kindness of others in countless ways.  Now we're on the downhill side of things and thankful for the lighter, easier load as we travel around an always uncertain, eventful, yet hopeful, bend.  Thank you, dear friends, for carrying my burden for me.  Here's to another Friday and cooler weather in the forecast.

"If the LORD had not been my help, my soul would soon have lived in the land of silence.  When I thought, "My foot slips," your steadfast love, O LORD, held me up. "  Psalm 94: 17-18

The Lord Provides

One day at a time rings true around here these days.  If you told me last Sunday that I would celebrate my daughter's 13th birthday, complete my 6 hour GT update, go to a math training, work with all reading groups several times, get my classroom organized and overdue laminating finished, complete lesson plans early, be out 2 days with a stomach bug and visit my husband in the hospital all before the next Sunday, I would have laughed at you.  Actually, if you told me on January 1st that the Lord would change my life in Zambia, I would lose my father, speak at his service and that I would miss the first days of school and have the most perfect class of students in the fall, you would have gotten a similar reaction of disbelief.  All I can say in response to the events of 2012,  combined with joy, laughter, tears and deep sorrow, is that the Lord is faithful!  During the few days I was home from Zambia, before vacation and my father's accident, the Lord enabled me to recount my experience in Africa through writing with clarity and passion before the confusion of the fall hit me.  Given a brief window and opening in the schedule, I was given the opportunity to share that experience with my church family during a most stressful and sad time.  This was a welcome occasion due to the providence of already having the talk ready to go.  Also, upon arriving home from vacation, before unexpectedly returning to Colorado, the Lord allowed me to get nearly all my ducks in a row for beginning the school year.  Just this weekend, I am grateful for His perfect timing of my recovery from a stomach bug only 5 hours before Kyle began having intense pain in his abdomen which led to him being admitted to the hospital.   The Lord has never given me more than I could bear and He has provided all the necessary support at just the right moments.  While my gut aches deeply as I remember and long for my Dad and my eyes are quick to fill with tears at the simplest of triggers (yesterday it was a gentleman ordering vodka at the ballet and requesting Grey Goose-Dad's favorite), my heart and soul remain steadfast in the Lord's keeping.  Even as I'm anxious about upcoming classroom evaluations and feel like I'm doing the impossible yet most satisfying job of a teacher, I'm confident in the Lord's provision for each day.  So, I simply step out of bed each morning and do the next thing.  Speaking of that, I must get to the next thing and get back to the hospital. 

"Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time.  Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you." 1 Peter 6-7