Category Archives: Life’s disappointments

Holding on Tight

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Today I drove 26 miles to the nearest shopping mall to run several errands. On the way home (about an hour later than I’d anticipated), God had something to say.

I was rounding a gentle curve on a busy expressway when a flash of color filled my rear view mirror: a spectacular sunset-in-progress. Brilliant orange slashed with aqua and gold made me look as long (and as often) as I dared while moving at 75 mph.

As I drove, the dramatic colors widened in all directions, lighting up half the sky, and I craned my neck to see the show for real rather than just in the mirror. But road-swerve persuaded me to try for a phone picture instead.

Putting the driver’s window down, I held out my phone, pointing behind me, but other than blurred pictures of other cars and trucks, I got nothing.

The sunset continued to develop, and I grew sad thinking it might fade before I could get a good look. I picked up speed, racing for home and the beach where a wide-angle view would make for great photos. Just as I arrived, though, the light show abruptly ended and the sky went grey. I was crushed.

That’s when God spoke. “Margaret, how could you feel crushed after the extravagant gift I just gave you? I arranged for you to spend precisely enough time in the stores to end up on the road exactly in time to see that amazing sunset, so why are you whining?”

My response was, “Because I didn’t get to see it fully, the way I wanted to, or take pictures to study later. Why couldn’t it have lasted a little longer?”

None of this impressed God, and what he said next was difficult to hear.

Mary“That sunset you were trying to hold onto isn’t the only impossible thing you’re trying to do. The other has to do with your sister Mary. Tomorrow she gets her first scan since chemo ended, a scan that’s going to hunt for cancer. Your hope for good results is rooted in a desire to hold onto her, but you can’t do that any more than you could hold that sunset.

“Every sunset belongs to Me, and Mary belongs to Me, too. Whether she gets good or bad news tomorrow, your response should be to confidently trust Me and My decisions about her life. Please remember that I’m holding onto her in a way you never could, so take courage from knowing that.”

But letting go of a sunset is one thing; letting go of Mary is something else entirely.

“Lean not on your own understanding but in all your ways acknowledge him…” Proverbs 3:5-6

Praying with Mary

Tomorrow, the 11th, is my post-chemo scan. Please pray for peace of mind and for complete acceptance of God’s perfect plan, both in my body and in my heart.

Tantalizing Fantasizing

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Every widow friend of mine has wished her husband could come back, if only for a few minutes. We’ve all fantasized about how we would greet them, what we’d say, how we’d show love. Such a scenario is as captivating as a first date, and although we all know it can’t be, thinking about it is delicious.

howard_F2S13P-P1.tiffThis morning I was pondering the biblical Lazarus, a friend Jesus often stayed with between destinations. He enjoyed time with this pal and his two sisters, probably relaxing around a lamp-lit wooden table, telling of his travels. These four singles were close in heart and surely had fun together. Scripture twice says Jesus loved them.

When Lazarus got sick, the grieving sisters did what came naturally: they got word to Jesus. But Lazarus died before he could get there.

When Jesus finally came, Mary, Martha and a crowd of mourners had been grieving for four days. No doubt the sisters were thinking, “Oh, how we want our brother back, even for just a few minutes. He left so quickly we couldn’t even get Jesus here in time. If only we could talk with him again, hold onto him, somehow prevent his death.”

When Jesus arrived, Martha raced out to meet him with the same wish my widow friends and I have. “Jesus, you can do whatever you want! You could bring him back!” Although I haven’t met Martha, I know what she was thinking: “If you bring him back, you can heal him, and then he won’t have to die!”

But Jesus responded conservatively, reminding Martha that Lazarus would rise eventually. That wasn’t good enough for her, though. I picture her tugging on his arm, bouncing up and down saying, “Yes, yes, I know, but you know what I mean!”

Jesus calmly asked if she truly believed he was the way to heaven, and she says, “Yes, of course! I believe you! But…”

Racing back to the house, she grabs Mary and excitedly says, “Jesus is here! Hurry up!”  And it’s Mary’s turn to rush out. While weeping, she voices the same longing as Martha but in a different way. “You could have prevented this! And you should have!”

Amazingly, Jesus gave the sisters what they wanted: their brother back.

Lazarua and sistersWhat was life like for these siblings after that? Martha and Mary probably didn’t take their eyes off Lazarus, couldn’t stop asking questions. Most likely they touched him, took his hand, hugged him, told him they loved him, until he had to say, “Ok, girls. Enough already!”

I’ll bet they loved their brother with a nearly perfect love after having lost him, then gotten him back. That’s what my widow friends and I long for, too, though we know it won’t happen.

But if wives could just get that second-chance love figured out the first time around, marriages could be radical examples of what God originally had in mind for husbands and wives.

Jesus called in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” (John 11:43)

Caged

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When our son Nelson was 19 months, we moved him from the nursery to a different bedroom because another baby was on the way. But he was still little, so we put him in a second crib. In short order, though, he learned to climb out, and after being tucked in each night, refused to stay put. By the time we got to the bottom of the stairs, he was usually right behind us.

This dilemma changed from being cute to exasperating, and eventually we decided to gate him in his room. That worked for about 10 minutes until he learned to scale the gate. Nate made a trip to the store for a second gate, and with one above the other, we finally penned him in.

A caged NelsonBut rather than surrender quietly, Nelson used his room as a giant playpen, emptying drawers, pulling them out to use as ladders, removing sheets, tearing pages out of books. When he tired of playing, he’d fall asleep at the door, often with an arm and a leg outside the gate.

No one likes to be locked in a cage, whether it’s physical or emotional, but sometimes confinement is positive.

I read of an experiment at a big-city grade school that bordered a busy street. During recess children played only near the school building, fearful of fast-moving cars. After a fence was built, the children took advantage of the entire playground. They even played near the fence, just inches from dangerous traffic.

Little Nelson saw his “bars” as a prison. The school children viewed theirs as freedom. Why the difference?

It’s probably a control issue. We told Nelson, “You must stay in your room.” There was no negotiating, and his determination to get out was the result of a desire to buck the system.

Safety with a fenceThe school children were told, “You can play anywhere on the playground.” There were no restrictions. When they hovered near the building, it was because they chose it. When the “bars” went up, they were relieved.

Many people reject religion because they see it as a set of non-negotiable rules that take the fun out of life. But if they understood that God’s structure protects them from harm, they might view it as a relief.

God is the one who gave us free will in the first place. We can fight against his rules or submit to them, believing his fences actually bring freedom. Within his boundaries, he gives us unlimited choices, but doing things our own way just to buck the system is foolish.

No toddler understands the importance of going to bed at night. But if we would have taken down Nelson’s gates and let him fall asleep wherever he chose, he might have even chosen his bed.

“The trouble is not with the law, for it is spiritual and good. The trouble is with me, for I am all too human, a slave to sin.” (Romans 7:14)