As His Story Unfolds

It is hard to believe, more than a year has passed since I "retired." Notice the quotation marks? Life has been nothing like I thought it would be. The visions of retired life dancing in my head as I walked out of work that last morning included long, leisurely cups of coffee on the deck, hours of reading and crossword puzzles. I dreamed of my own words in print (and a paycheck to show for them), of days talking to and listening for God to speak: "Taste and see the Lord is good" (Psalm 38:4) would happen over lunch with an old friend; "Encourage one another and build one another up" (1 Thes. 5:11) would result in hours of writing out cards filled with hope and praying for those who would receive them. Wonderful plans, good plans! *record scratch* Most haven't happened.

Suffice to say, it's been busy. Children moving in and out and about the country, and the remodels and readjustments that go with all of that. Endless preparations for a life change Scott and I have felt lead to pursue. Mom's decreasing abilities and increasing confusion. We seem to clear one hurdle, hit our stride, and BAM! another hurdle. Outside of two brunch dates and several hastily scribbled cards, none of my plans have transpired. And the writing thing? Within six months of retirement, every attempt to carve out time and a place for me to write seriously had failed. God had shut it all down.  

I'm going to be completely transparent here. Before I really tried to find out what God was doing, things got ugly. I blamed myself: I've got to stop being a pushover; I cave so I'm not the bad guy, but I'm not being good to me. I really need to make these people do for themselves. I blamed others: Let them make their own dinner! Better yet, why can't they make me dinner? I care for everyone else; who cares for me? I blamed God: You're supposed to take care of me! You told me to write --even told me to retire to do it, but now there's all this stuff going on. Is this some kind of joke? 

Scripture says a lot about perseverance and enduring hardship. We're commanded to trust God; He will get us through trials so we can do what He has called us to do. But there's a difference between persistent and petulant; there's a difference between doing what God wants in His way, and following my own path. The minute I began assigning blame, the minute my frustration and selfishness prevented me from serving gladly in the ways He'd called me to serve before --as a daughter, a mother, a wife-- I knew I'd crossed that line. It was time to stop insisting and time to start confessing. Father, I'm confused as to what You want me to do. I'm the one who doesn't understand, and I believe I have stolen Your plans and made them my quest. It was time to stop pushing and time to start searching. God, what is it You are trying to do? It was time to stop demanding and time to start yielding. Where You lead me, Daddy, I will follow.

In the months ahead, I hope to tell you all He's been doing. "Retirement" has taken me on a journey of healing and discovery. If God allows, I will continue to write here and give Him His due as much as I am able. If not, one thing He has made abundantly clear: this is His story and I've got to write it His way.

The Tomb

My dad is buried in a clock. Well, not quite, but that has been the running joke in our family for years. When Dad passed, Mom had his ashes placed in a mantel clock. There have been all sorts of "irreverencies" like my children calling it their "Grandfather clock," or one-liners about it being Dad's time to go. Mom, however, will be buried with her family in a cemetery not far from here, a place that is both sad and comfortable. Mom was the baby in a large family, and had me later in life, so aunts, uncles, grandparents were aging and passing on from the time I was a young child. The cemetery reminds me of my childhood as much as it reminds me of grief. Death has walked in and out of my life as freely and as familiarly as a friend. Death is a transition and for some, by God's grace, a joyously anticipated shuffling off of a mortal coil.

Matthew 28:1-7, records the events of Jesus' resurrection. This might even be one of those passages that, were you to encounter it during your daily reading, you might just gloss over it. Read it once, read it a thousand times, right? But this morning, I was stopped by verse 1: 

"Now after the Sabbath, as the first day of the week began to dawn, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary came to see the tomb."

They came to see the tomb. The tomb. Speaking from experience, most people when they go to place flowers on a grave or remember a loved one, say they are "going to talk to Dad," or "I'm going to put flowers on Mom's grave." There is a sense of ownership, personalization. This is not just the tomb, it is his tomb or her tomb, their place of rest. That's not the case in Matthew's Gospel -- nor in any other, for that matter. Every record of The Resurrection in the Gospels refers to the tomb. Until God, through the Gospel writers, discloses the entire story -- The Resurrection -- no one mentions it was Jesus who had been in the tomb. Not until speaking of where Jesus had been is His name mentioned. 

I am guilty of, for the sake of brevity, referring to Jesus' tomb. Praise God, it is just the tomb! Jesus' association with the tomb was temporary, momentary. It was not His then and it isn't His now!

Rich in Mercy

Mercy. Such a sweet, gentle word, isn't it? Hearing it may generate thoughts of a priest speaking the words, "You are forgiven," to a parishioner behind the screen of a confessional. Or, a woman whose son is brutally murdered by a young man not much older than her boy; she prays for this boy and funds his education, helping him turn his life around. Perhaps, when you hear the word "mercy," you think of God flooding the world. No? Well, sometimes mercy doesn't always look like we think it should.

Three years ago we were faced with the very sudden decision to put down one of our dogs or to choose surgery. He was suffering. The vet didn't hold out much hope for his recovery after surgery. So, we said our goodbyes and let him quietly cross Rainbow Bridge unmolested. It was heart-wrenching, but out of our love for him, we made the choice we did. Yesterday we came to a similar crossroads with our Tinkerbell: put her down or ease her pain with medication until her time. We chose the latter. In both cases, we tried to demonstrate mercy toward our beloved canine friends, though there is a great difference in how mercy was manifested in each situation. Did we change? Did we love one more than the other? No, it had more to do with circumstances than any of that. Bishop was suffering --greatly; Tinkerbell is alert, active, and she doesn't appear to be ready to leave.

Ephesians 2:4 tells us, God is rich in mercy. Rich! He is not simply merciful some of the time or only to certain people, but He demonstrates His character to all. He doesn't drag His feet and reluctantly let folks off the hook, but He sent His only Son to die in order to show mercy to the world. He gave His all. He is rich in mercy! The provisions He has taken to ensure none would eternally perish are more than apparent. Some, however, may not be so obvious. Like a cataclysmic, worldwide flood taking all but a few lives. Genesis 6:5-6 tells us, prior to The Flood, humanity was greatly wicked and "every intent of the thoughts of [the] heart was only evil continually." Sin multiplied exponentially. Anarchy. More merciful to allow humanity to destroy itself, or better to quickly eradicate evil and preserve a remnant? The evil and disorder in the world today cause me to wonder if we are repeating history, destroying ourselves again. It's painful to watch and reminds us how desperately we need mercy, even the kind that severs and tears asunder like the knife of a surgeon. Which brings me back to all God has done to save us from ourselves, the wonderful gifts of forgiveness through His Son and newness of life through His Spirit living in us, eternal gifts! Mercy is His nature and He doesn't change. If we are sure the gift of the cross is a merciful gift --and it is indeed!-- we have to trust His character. And though we may not see the entire reasoning, inside and out, or the scope of the story, beginning to end, we know He can. We believe who He is.

Sometimes mercy looks just like we think it should: gentleness, kindness, forgiveness. But in the times it appears cruel and difficult, trust the character of God, His ability to see the situation from an eternal, reigning perspective, and His great love for you. He is rich in mercy!

Goodness or Godliness?

I heard my husband as he was helping our grandson dress for church. "Good men pray," he said. "God's men pray," he amended. Oh, my! To hear my husband teaching this little man to be not simply a good man, but God's man... How it melted my heart. Don't we want our children to be good? After all, goodness is fruit of the Spirit. Being good is a reflection of what God is, but being good as a means to being godly is putting the cart before the horse, as they say. 

Mark 10:17-22, tells us a man came to Jesus wanting to know what he needed to do to inherit eternal life. He addressed Jesus as, "Good Teacher." This guy had goodness on his mind. Jesus responded by reminding him of the Mosaic Law, which this guy said he had kept from childhood. That's good, right? Jesus said the man lacked one thing: he needed to sell all he had, give the proceeds to the poor, take up his cross and follow Jesus. The man was despondent when he left, "for he had great possessions."

First of all, if you were paying attention, the man asked what he had to do to inherit eternal life. Does anyone do anything to inherit something? Isn't inheritance at the discretion of the one writing the will? I mean, you're either an heir or you're not, right? But hang on, we'll come back to that.

Secondly, this guy must have really been something to have kept all of the Law since childhood. He must have really been good. 

Third, Jesus told him the one thing he lacked. Do you remember? Sell all he had, give the proceeds to the poor, take up his cross, and follow Jesus. I know, sounds like four things, right? Well, this is where we see the difference between a good man (or woman) and God's man (or woman). Good was keeping the Law, doing the good things as a means to get something: satisfaction, reward, recognition, even as a way to keep someone off your back. But being godly, or God-like, starts in the heart. If he'd been willing to leave his past life behind --including his Law worship-- if he'd been willing to love on those in poverty by blessing them with the money from the sale of his stuff, if he'd been willing to crucify his own plans and ideas, if he'd been willing to faithfully follow Jesus with all he had, into any circumstance, if he'd been willing to start keeping the Law out of love for God and in humble worship of Him, the man would have become an heir. Without a death --in this case, the death of the man's ego and his method of earning things-- there would be no inheritance. You can't do anything to earn an inheritance. This pathetic man was all about checking the boxes, however; about doing things to be counted good. Perhaps, he had been fairly successful up to this point, but when faced with the choice to continue striving toward goodness or to surrender all and be godly, he went away sad.

God is good. Being a good person is imitating what He is. But when we lay down our agendas and schedules, and follow who He is, Jesus, we become godly men and women, for no one is good but God.