Stones and Shadows

       Sometimes I forget how to live. My body still breathes and moves and creates energy, but my mind refuses to hurdle obstacles or climb to a higher vantage point. When I encounter struggles or discomforts, my tendency is more often to freeze and crumble than to fight through. This bent has manifested itself fiercely in recent months. I have met hard things, and I have grown rocks into impossible mountains. The more I build my steep ascents the more I realize that I am the one crippling myself. My fear and hurt become too heavy for me to attempt the climb. Then I’m stuck, wallowing in self-loathing. It’s a dark and lonely place.

      But Jesus always parts the clouds so I can see that my mountains are stones and my weights are shadows. His most recent sunbeam came in the form of a recklessly powerful duo: the Apostle Paul and Keith Green. These two favorites of mine are faithful tools of my Savior in my sanctification and encouragement.  This past Sunday I heard a sermon on Galatians 2:15-21, a passage to which I turn frequently. Verses 20-21 resonate strongly: “I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me. I do not nullify the grace of God, for if righteousness were through the law, then Christ died for no purpose.” Such encouragement to hear that I am not my own. My life and salvation are in Jesus, and I can’t destroy that with my shortcomings. One comment from Sunday’s sermon that I particularly liked went something like, “We work from faith and not for faith.” Any good I perform is motivated by the salvation freely provided from faith in Jesus and not by a need to gain that salvation. Jesus has secured my life, and that security moves me to action. I don’t have to be intimidated or weighted by difficulties because Jesus has taken care of those.

       Following Paul’s theme, Keith Green’s song “When I Hear the Praises Start” begins with the lines, “My child, My child, why are you striving?/You can’t add one thing to what’s been done for you/I did it all when I was dying/Rest in your faith; My peace with come to you.”  I can’t help but stop and rest when I imagine Jesus asking me that simple question: “Why are you striving? You know it’s pointless and exhausting. Just be still.” I too often forget that Jesus invites me to enjoy Him and not work for Him. The chorus of the song is also arresting: “For when I hear the praises start/Oh, and I want to rain upon you/Blessings that will fill your heart/I see no stain upon you/Because you are My child and you know me/To Me you’re only holy.” God doesn’t see me as the filthy sinner I am, but because of Jesus’ blood I am holy to Him. I am justified, free from guilt, cleansed of shame.  I find it miraculous that God sees me as holy. So miraculous that I can’t stay in a depression. God’s grace lifts me up and carries me through my obstacles. Jesus continually reminds me that because my life is in Him, I can live it well. My shackles are gone, and He has equipped me for much through faith in Him.  

 

       Jesus  always reminds me how to live.

A Furtherance of Hope

       The last several days have been difficult. Really, really difficult. The aftermath of visitations, endless pound cake, and seas of black have left me overwhelmed and ragged. I know I should say I feel overwhelmed with people's kindness, and I do, but today I am left wanting to avoid most human interaction. I won't let myself be completely emotional around others, and today has been my first slice of solitude since I received the bad news. Therefore, today has been the most tearful day I've had. But today has also been a day of learning what comfort looks like. Being a Christian does not make me numb to loss or blindly happy in the midst of hardship. I don't believe God promises that I will always be happy, and I don't believe He commands that I should always be happy. Rather, to feel the full weight of sin in the world I will be sad and I will hurt. Never being sad would be ignoring reality. However, I do believe God calls me to be joyful in every situation because my joy is rooted in Him, not in my circumstances. God is constant; therefore, my joy can be constant.

       I was reminded of this truth today as an instrumental version of a Natalie Grant song floated through the Christmas district of Hobby Lobby. I'm not generally a Natalie fan, but her song "Held" took on new meaning when I recognized the melody and sang the words to myself. I stopped my rummaging through the faux holly berries when I realized how much the message spoke to my current situation. I stopped and I cried in Hobby Lobby amid twinkle lights and jolly Santas and giant red bows. Through the song, God reminded me that He doesn't promise a perfect life free of heartache, but He does promise to be present through that heartache. He promises to hold His children. He promises to be their strength. That's what I felt more fully today--God holding on when I had nothing. Feeling His complete hold freed me to experience the full sorrow of my Uncle's absence. I didn't have to be strong anymore because I knew God was strong for me.

       Another way God has ministered to me over the weekend is through 2 Corinthians 4:7-12:

              "But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies. For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh. So death is at work in us, but life in you." 
                
         This passage is a huge chunk to chew, and I won't delve into it as deeply as it deserves. However, I am exponentially encouraged by the fact that although I am imperfect in many ways, and although my body has been decaying since my birth, God has blessed me with the glorious knowledge of His Son becoming Man. God delights in putting this bright truth in broken, earthen vessels. His truth and power and love shine despite, and because of, my brokenness. This passage makes me think of dying in a different way.  Yes, I am dying every day, as is everyone, but in this dying I am being made more alive in Christ. My dying body resembles the death of sin and the death of Death that Christ accomplished on the cross and through His resurrection. I am dead to sin but alive in Christ. I am not under sin's power any longer, but I am free to become more Christlike everyday. Because of Jesus I have hope that one day Death's ultimate death will be manifested, and all will see the True King in His full majesty. What a day that will be.

       So though losing my uncle hurts, and though I know I will encounter much more sorrow in the years to come, I know that pain doesn't have to paralyze me. I have in Christ a treasure more powerful than any deadly scheme. To this hope I must cling, for I have no other.

        
              And as He stands in victory
              Sin's curse has lost its grip on me,
              For I am His and He is mine -
              Bought with the precious blood of Christ.

       

Hope in Hopelessness

       I don't know what to do with death. There's no answer for it, no remedy, no helpful platitude. Death is one of the few things that will not change. We don't live our lives with permanence in mind, rather we live seasonally. Most things we do have seasons. Teething, awkward middle school stage, college, the flu, pregnancy, some relationships. These are all things we know will end at some point. But not death. You don't think an absence can actually have a presence until you've lost someone. There's no explanation for someone you love dying, and it's hard, nearly impossible, to be content with that fact.

       These are the thoughts that have swarmed my family and I over the past few days as we mourn the loss of my Uncle Chris. He passed away unexpectedly Thursday, November 6. Though I'm not brave enough to speak at his funeral on Monday, the following is what I would have said in honor of him.

       I have always adored Uncle Chris, but Summer of 2013 I had the opportunity to live in Panama City and work for him at the family's Toyota dealership. Over the summer I witnessed Uncle Chris in many contexts: living with his family, joking with his friends, and interacting with his employees. I want to share the qualities that I was able to glimpse more fully while living in his world.

       One cannot ignore the way Uncle Chris loved his family. He and Aunt Kim had a precious relationship; they teased, laughed, argued, all with the most obvious affection for one another. As a visitor, I couldn't feel anything but admiration for them and the way they treated each other. Uncle Chris also fiercely loved his children, Kayla, Bronson and Mia,  and his granddaughter, Piper. He was always talking about Kayla's sweet and fun way with Piper, or Bronson's talent in his music career, or Mia's last cheer competition. He loved his children's interests because he loved his children, and he wanted them to feel supported in every way. His family felt the freedom of his love, and they loved him freely back.

       The love Uncle Chris showed his immediate family spilled over to his friends and extended family as well. I spent many lunch breaks with Uncle Chris, my great uncle, Mike, and one of Chris's best friends, Watson. The way those three harassed each other was always hysterical. Most days it was difficult to finish my meal between spurts of laughter brought on by their antics. Though the trio teased incessantly, they always did so with a loving undertone. Chris's love was also evident in his relationship with his parents, my Granny and Papa. I loved when he visited their house and we would sit and talk and laugh the whole evening. He always brought a pleasant presence into their home.

       Chris also extended his love to his employees. I would often see Chris walk through the dealership, headed somewhere to talk business, but stop and chat to one of the salesmen about surfing or sports or movies. He loved to talk. He loved to know and understand the people who worked for him. He was generous to his employees because he wanted to treat them well, not because he wanted applause. Chris worked behind the scenes because he wanted the good of everyone, not just his own good. I saw him give to charities because he wanted to make a difference. Chris wasn't in the business for the fame. He was in the business so he could change his corner of Panama City. And he did change it.

      Uncle Chris's absence is heavy on all of us. We will miss his humor, his zeal for surfing, his intellectual conversations, his nonsense conversations, and his love that he bestowed on so many. But God is good, as He always is. He has provided so many friends and family members who have been immensely supportive. My family and I have felt God's love so strongly through His children the past few days; it's been overwhelming. We are heartbroken, but we are not crushed. We are hurting, but we are not without hope because our hope is in something so much more permanent than our own lives. We look to Jesus, His life and death and resurrection, and we find our peace and eternal security.