Post 32: The Good

This last week has been a rough one.  My Oma’s funeral was on Monday, and Jordan and I returned home after that.  I was able to put in half days on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, and could just take report cards and such home with me.  On Wednesday night I was able to go out for coffee, and I started Thursday out feeling refreshed and like I could carry on.

Then Friday hit, and with it came the realization that both of grandparents are gone. 

I’m trying really hard to not start crying as I type this out.

This weekend we celebrated my mother-in-law’s 60^th birthday, so it was a weekend of fun and festivities.  We were out Friday night and all day Saturday, celebrating.

Then Sunday morning hit, and while Jordan was getting ready I was brewing coffee, cooking oatmeal, and washing some dishes (because I’m anal and the dishes HAD to be done).  We were given one of the floral arrangements from my Oma’s funeral, and I was excited to have a pretty vase that would serve as a reminder of this woman.  As I went to rinse the vase after washing, it broke in my hand.  I started to bleed and while struggling to find something to wrap my hand in, the oatmeal started to boil over on the stove.  Jordan came out to see if I needed help, and instead he had a wife who was lost in her own world throughout breakfast and who could barely hold the tears back.  We got to church, and as I’m looking through the bulletin, I see the part where the mention things that are going on in our church family.  At the very top was condolences to Jordan and me.

Throughout worship, I was either on the verge of crying or else I was crying.  At one point we started to sing “Awesome God,” and as all the voices flooded together I became so overwhelmed that I couldn’t sing.  All I could do was stand and cry (which is an awful position to be in when you are going to have family pictures taken right away after church and you haven’t brought any make-up with you to touch up your face).

Jordan’s brother and his family came up to surprise my mom-in-law, and what resulted was a niece on my lap and one on his for pretty much the entire service.  Every time one of the girls would grab my arms and wrap them tightly around their bodies, I was flooded with a sense of comfort.  Of care.  It was as if God was holding my heart in the midst of pain and sorrow, and was reminding me that He is still present.  He is still good.  He hasn’t stopped being God and He is still working in me.

"God does not promise you better life circumstances if you follow Him, He promises you a better life."

This is the line that has been playing over in my head since my run on Thursday.  Tim Keller remains my favourite pastor to listen to, and I found that when Thursday hit I needed the comfort of his voice.  I have listened to his podcast on "The Christian's Happiness" before, but given how the last six weeks or so have gone, I felt like it was fitting to listen to it again.

Keller is preaching from Romans 8:28-29, where it says "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers and sisters."

This is probably one of the most misquoted portions of Scripture that I have ever head, and Keller points this out.  When we don't get something we want, our response is "Well God has something better for me."  He gives the example of applying to grad school and then not getting in.  A Christian's response is usually, “Well, there is a better school out there for me.”  When I was single and it seemed like relationships either didn’t pan out or else were never appearing, my response was always, “God has the perfect man out there and he is better than anything else.”

Keller points out, though, that this is not what God promises.  These are circumstances in our lives, not our lives.  I think one of our biggest problems is that we like to just quote verse 28 and ignore verse 29 (silly context).  In his sermon, Keller talks about how verse 29 starts with the word “For” which lets us know that these two verse are connected.  This says then that God works for our good, FOR (or because) we have been called to be made like Christ. 

Sometimes our circumstances work out better than we could have hoped.  After navigating life as a single and losing hope that there were any good guys out there, I met a man who proved me wrong. A man who cherishes and challenges me.  A few weeks ago I found out the maternity leave I was filling wasn’t going to be extended.  For those of you who don’t know, on Friday it was confirmed that I will instead be teaching part time next year, and I will be teaching English (which is what I went to school to teach).

As Keller puts it, when these circumstances work out like this, it isn’t because that is what God has promised, it is simply an extension of His grace.

Because more often than naught, our circumstances don’t turn out like that.  I lost my Opa in the fall and instead of getting to have a few years to grow closer with my Oma, we held a funeral celebrating her life one week ago.  We lost a trip to Hawaii, but no tickets to Europe have appeared in the mail to replace them.

I have seen people grow upset and bitter with God because their circumstances don’t turn out the way that they feel they should.  They believe that if God isn’t going to give them what they want, then He better have something even better in store.

But it doesn’t work like that.

And I think this is the lesson that God has really been teaching me this year.

I am learning that no matter what my circumstances, God is working for my good to make me more like Him.  We are called to be Christ-like, yet Christ didn’t get everything He wanted or more.  He asked His Father if it was possible to have this cup removed from Him.  He was brutally killed.  We are supposed to strive to be more like Christ.

I am not saying we aren’t allowed to be disappointed when things don’t go our way.  But who is our identity determined by and through?  Our Creator.  My identity is not determined by whether I have a full time teaching job.  It isn’t determined by whether I’m single or married.  It isn’t determined by whether I have kids or no kids.  It isn’t determined by my friends.

My God knit me together in my Mom’s womb, and He is continuing to mold me and conform me to be more like Him.

In the midst of pain, it is hard to look beyond and be content with the idea that God isn’t promising me better circumstances.  Sometimes it is hard to take comfort in the knowledge that He is using these circumstances to conform me to His image, and that that is the good He promises.

One of my favourite quotations from CS Lewis is actually from The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.  The children are taking with Mr. and Mrs. Beaver about who Aslan is.  I love Mr. Beaver’s response:

“‘Safe?’ said Mr. Beaver; ‘don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.’”

We tend to long for the safety that comes from having circumstances work out the way we want them to, or else better.  But God is so good, that rather than giving me what I want or I think I deserve, that rather than changing my circumstances, He is changing my heart.  He is changing my very being.

Post 31: It's Pouring

About one minute ago the skies let loose and we are now experiencing a torrential downpour.  The clouds are dark and all I can hear is the rain drumming against buildings and the road.

It's strangely therapeutic, and maybe that's because today the world feels just a bit darker, gloomier, and sadder.

On Sunday I was able to drive north and attend my cousin's baby shower.  It was a fantastic opportunity to see my extended family.  I got to sit next to my Oma and explain to her what each gift was as my cousin opened them.  At various points the group would be in stitches over something Oma said or did.  When she wasn't pretending to be pregnant by putting a balloon up her shirt she was talking about the possibilities of her having another child.  She was cracking jokes (in true Oma style) and seemed so full of life.

Yesterday was a gorgeous day.  I went for a run beneath the shining sun, cleaned my house, and enjoyed myself (I was allowed to mark from home).  Then, just before lunch, my Mom called.  She told me Oma had suffered a stroke.  She had fallen because of it and was in the hospital.

I'm not going to lie, my initial reaction was "This is Oma.  She'll jump back."  I mean, you should have seen her after she fell and broke her hip.  Jordan and I went to visit her and even on morphine she was making us laugh.  She's the kind of woman that nothing seems to be able to hold back.

She was that kind of woman.

As the day progressed and clouded over, I began to realize that Oma was not coming back from this.  It was a severe stroke and the most we could hope for was that she would make it through the night so that all of her kids could say good bye.

We went out last night and I got to hold her hand and kiss her forehead.  I got to tell her how much I loved getting to be closer to her.  That I loved her and would miss her.  I said good bye to her for each of my siblings and made sure she knew how badly they wanted to be with her.

The woman in the bed was not the same woman I had the privilege of sitting with on Sunday's shower.

This morning, at 9:50 I got the text telling me she had passed.

I'm sitting here in the dark, crying, wrapped in the blanket she had made for me last fall.  It's a baby blanket, meant for whenever we have children, but I don't care.  It's keeping me warm right now. And it reminds me of her.

I wish I could describe how I feel but I don't know how.  I want to yell "It's not fair!" and yet that isn't really the right sentiment.  It has been less than 8 months since Opa died, but I thought for sure I would have Oma for a few more years.  I had thought for certain she would be around at least for our first child so she could see it wrapped in the blanket she made.  As we drove home from the hospital last night, both Jordan and I discussed the fact that our children will never know their great-grandparents on either side.  They will never get to have a four-generation picture.

Words can't begin to describe how honored I am to have had these months being near my family.  I get to be with them through this.  I got to say good bye.  My heart goes out to my siblings and cousins who can't make it back.

Right now it seems like the only thing I can do is cry, "Oh, God."  I have no words.  No explanations.  I'm not angry.  I'm just deeply grieved.  My heart aches to get an Oma kiss on the cheek.  To have coffee with her one last time.  To eat all of her black licorice.

I guess I just ask that you would keep my family in your prayers.  We don't really know how to respond or what to do.  We are all hurting.

Oh, God...

Post 30: The Problem of Pain

Pain and hurt are funny things.

Not that I find it funny to be in pain.  I really don't.  Several weeks ago I took a tumble while running.  And when I say a "tumble," I mean that I was running a 4 minute 10 second kilometer and all of a sudden my feet went out from under me and I was on pavement. I jumped up and ran another block before the pain began.  Then I stopped.  I walked the rest of the way home and when I got through the front door, this was the state of things.

This happened on a Wednesday.  By Friday I was running again, but I had to take it slow.  If I ran too fast or too far, my knees would send out a warning.  Coming from a family of runners, most of whom suffer from some sort of knee ailment, I have learned to at least try to heed the warnings my body sends out.  Ignoring your pain usually just makes it worse.

But another problem can happen too.  Sometimes when you're in pain, all you want to do is revel in it.  A lot of the time you don't even realize you are doing it.  I was the kid who made a big deal out of every cut and bruise growing up.  My head didn't even have to hurt and I would be resting on the couch with a cold cloth on my forehead. I would cry at anything and would relish any attention given to me.  I thank God that my parents kept on me.  They were always there to comfort and acknowledge legitimate pain, but even when my heart was broken they would remind me that life still had to go on.

Which is true.  Life still goes on.  Not just for you, but for everyone around you.

Words cannot begin to describe how blessed I felt after my last post when I shared about my journey with what is going on with the job situation.  I received emails, texts, phone calls... people who just wanted to let me know they were thinking and praying for us through this time.

It has now been almost two weeks since I found out the position wasn't being continued.  And by God's grace I think I have done an alright job of still living.  There are so many people around me who are dealing with things.  Friends who are looking for work and feel like every door is being shut in their face.  Friends who are moving somewhere new.

We all have our own pain and hurt that we are dealing with.  Sometimes we ignore it because it doesn't seem as big a deal as what other people are going through.  And sometimes we allow it to consume us because we don't think anyone else knows what we are going through or will ever hurt as much as we do.

But pain is pain.

It still hurts.

It varies in how it looks and how it plays out, and different people experience different pain.  But we all still hurt.

One of my favourite books by CS Lewis is The Problem of Pain.  I read it about three and a half years ago and it is one of my more underlined and noted of Lewis' works.

Long before Kelly Clarkson told the world that "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger," my Dad was telling us kids the same thing.  We had our moments where we wanted to scream at him.  After all, would it kill God to give us a break and make things a little bit easier?  But Dad would always remind us that you don't really want everything to be easy.  In ease and comfort we tend to forget God.

It took me a really long time to understand what my Dad meant.

I think Lewis sums it up fairly well.

"Pain hurts.  That is what the word means.  I am only trying to show that the old Christian doctrine of being made 'perfect through suffering' is not incredible..."

He then goes on to talk about our responses when pain is removed.

"Let Him but sheathe the sword for a moment and I behave like a puppy when the hated bath is over--I shake myself as dry as I can and race off to require my comfortable dirtiness, if not in the nearest manure heap, at least in the nearest flower bed.  And this is why tribulations cannot ceases until God either sees us remade or sees that our remaking is now hopeless."

Pain can serve a purpose because it insists on being attended to.  "God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pain: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world."

Gosh, Lewis is a smart man!

I suppose my reasoning for writing this is to just encourage you.  All of us experience some kind of pain.  And we all respond to that pain differently.  Some view it as God's megaphone and instantly turn to Him.  They try to trust Him with what is going and try to allow Him to continue molding them through that pain.  Some try to ignore it and often end up in more pain.  They also end up hurting others because they remain closed off in hopes of not being hurt.  They ignore their pain and will often expect other people to respond in the same way.  Still others are so consumed by their pain that they are unable to acknowledge anyone else's pain.  Their hearts are so broken and their pain so real and so present that they can't understand why no one else understands.  Whereas some people shut their friends and family out so that they can ignore pain, others want only the affirmation of their friends and family.  They want everyone else to understand their pain and become dependent on others for their affirmation.

But pain is God's megaphone.  It is meant to draw us closer to him.  One of my favourite quotations is by Helen Keller.  She says, "Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet.  Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, ambition inspired, and success achieved."

The best response we can have when we are hurting is to turn to God.

It is also the hardest response.

It requires us to not ignore and not wallow in pain, but to learn to work through it.  To grow.  To be strengthened.