Needed this today

Someone (thanks M.A.!) posted this from the sermon that they heard at my home church today. Glad they did, because I needed the reminder.

 

How much of your faith journey is centered around 

the question, "Am I good enough?"

Jesus is inviting us into his rest.

"You did not choose me, but I chose you

and appointed you that you should go
and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide." Jn 15:16

Oh, thank You Jesus! And...sorry! I spend too much time frustrated, discouraged, because I haven't figured it all out yet, because the service isn't perfect, so much is not yet "together." I see the lack and the failure of my life. And all this is true, and yet You chose me, You call me to simply receive Your life, answer the call, and abide in You. Today, once again I come. I receive Your call, Your invitation. I thank You for choosing me, for equipping me, I look to You, and rise to do what is before me. And I trust that it will be enough!

Getting back to You

Oh God, I am so distracted. But this...You know. You know me completely, and You love me still--distracted mess that I am and all...and this is still sometimes so hard to really believe.

It has been so hard to focus, to really see You in my days, to know You at the center--of my thinking, of the work and planning, You being the source, the reason for all. You are, and yet I can't see it.

Oh sometimes I'm getting it right, living and acting in line with proper priorities. There are times lately when I've thought You were looking and me and saying:  I love your heart. You have a beautiful heart.

Yes, Lord, it is beautiful, parts of it anyway. Thank You. This is the heart You gave me, this is how You taught me to see the world, to see those You love...and tears are streaming down my face as I write this...they started earlier this morning as I was pondering, their stories...  

I remembered...a prayer. It was 23 or 24 years ago I first prayed it? I was reading a novel set in WWII and Nazi Germany. I was, with the author and the characters, disturbed by the incredible evil of that time. I remember crying out to You: Give me Your eyes to see this world, I want to see like You see.

Is that why I see what I do and feel what I do? Did You grow and change my heart from that point on? I do know You later showed me--as I kept reading Your Word--Your special compassion for the poor, for the fatherless, how You ask us to speak up for those who can't speak for themselves, defend those who are weak.

And so...it's all hitting me today--the stories I've heard recently, their pain. I have such yearning for them to know--love, healing, hope, peace. Thank You, Lord, You've given opportunity for me, for us, to pass these on, from You to them...even this week.

And there are times it's easy to do. When it becomes desperate. Like this week, when it seemed someone had gone missing, and I was afraid what we'd find was a body, not a live person.

But in the regular monotonous duties--how I fail You again and again! Somehow I can't or don't make the connection between the mundane and the noble. Motivation slips. I slide and slack, making all sorts of excuses.

I'm coming back to You today, these days. I've always been with You. You've always been with me. Yet hopefully You're moving back to front and center, more primary in my thoughts, more primarily the One I'm talking too. You holding me stable, centered, not so buffeted and distracted by...everything else--other people, conversations, tasks, problems.

I'm coming back to You, and I'm asking You to bring me back to You--in my days, through my thoughts, through the circumstances, through Your word, and songs and...however You might want to speak, and draw and mold.

At times like these I realize...maybe I'm already back. Though I feel ... all over the place. Still, what has erupted, from deep down, is that deepest longing...for You, to be in You, and You in me, and that's all.

Thank You.

(Sept. 29 a.m.)

Should I quit

Should I quit
Walk away
Leave 
May it be
Because it is
Your best plan
Your good time
Your faithful hand guiding

May it not be
My weariness
Frustration
Life exploding
Or imploding
Because I did not learn
To follow You
And lead self

May it be in peace
With love
Joy
And blessing
Mutually shared
Not anger
Hurt
Frustration
Resentment
Relief to be done

And then
May it be
Not a "quit"
But a healthy
And exciting "transition"
Timely
All things left
In the most capable hands

And until then
If there ever is a "then"
May thoughts
And words
Like "quit"
Be banished
May there be resilience
And perseverance
And hope
That there will still be
Strength enough
Provision in time
And may there be
The knowledge
That these trials
Are producing
Something more precious
Than gold 

Let us not become weary in doing good, 

for at the proper time we will reap a harvest 

if we do not give up.  

Gal. 6:9 NIV

Written August 17, 2013



(There is more coming on this theme...)

I don't want to live in a world where

I don't want to live in a world where
Suicide is the only way out of the pain
Kids can't find someone to talk to
Men, women, youth, children
Can't find someone to share
    the pain
    the fear
    the loneliness
    the confusion
    the tears
When courage is needed
    no one comes to add strength, ADD courage
Where people are all alone through
    the death
    the infidelity
    the hurt
    the challenge
    the recovery
    the aftermath
    the remorse and confession
    the repentance process

Jesus, Son of God
Immanuel, God with Us
You don't want a world like that to exist either
So You came
So You come still
And so You have moved my heart

I do believe
You want to be with people
In these things
As You ask: "Who will go?"
I say: "Can I go? Send me."
Can You use me?
Can I be
    Your love
    Your presence
    Your comfort

I know at times it will be hard
I'll hurt
Sometimes I'll leave
Not knowing where I am
    or who I am
Needing to cry out to You for help
Find healing and recovery myself
From You
And the family You've given
It will take me to the end of myself
Close to burnout
Again

But You will be with me
And I want them to know
That You love and will be with them too
Could You
Would You
Use me
To make Yourself known
And even somehow
Draw them to You

Jesus, Immanuel
Please make a different world
Thank You, You want a different world
You are making a different world

Leech Strategy

Thank you S.L., once again you have blessed my life. You are STILL blessing my life!

So many years ago we met--about 19 years ago now. I still remember the day, you and another came in. We celebrated our birthdays together that year--I turned 25, you turned 27. Another year later when I was back, through co-leading a group and conflict, and working it out, then as I was moving away we discovered...friendship. Do you remember, that following year--reading together, weekly  fasting, lots of visits? You reminded me of the homeless boy with the burned face and hands. Yes, we shared that together too. But that other thing you said, "Every time my bra is uncomfortable, I think of how you..." Seriously, I have NO IDEA what you're talking about! I do remember setting you up for that photo--now that was a good one!

Then you moved away, on to new adventures, other places...so many other places. And yet you kept in touch, making a point to connect when we'd be going through the same places. Each time--a joy, lots of fun, and good deep challenging conversation. I love that we can talk straight with each other, no fear of offending. Say it like it is, hash it out, question, share--knowing we're both going the same direction, aiming for the same things, so much to be gained both ways.

You are an inspiration! You're so alive, excited, passionate about life. I always wonder what new foods you'll urge me to try. And here you go now, even though it's tiring, still up for new adventures, changes, new occupation (a farmer now, and so proud of your "farmer tan"), even a new country (well, not so new for you). You're still learning new things, still aware of ways you need to change and grow personally. Once again I'm blessed to be hanging out with you. Three years since we last saw each other, but no transition time needed, just more of the same good stuff!

And thanks for the stories. There we were, you telling about the new adventure and its new challenges, weaving a great story; me laughing and laughing and laughing some more. Thanks for the leeches strategy! Who knows, I may need it someday. Now I know--should I ever encounter them on mountain treks. First, roll up your pant legs, so you can see them right away, and flick them off. Then, walk at the front of the group--those leeches stand up, and start hopping when they hear walking, the first in the group is less likely to get as many bites. (Hey there friend, this one does not sound very self-sacrificing! I don't know...I think Jesus might walk at the back. :o)  ) I forgot to ask, but...since salt takes them off, should I always carry a salt shaker too?

You are a treasure S.L.! I love you, friend. Thank you for being one of those people that know me so well, have seen some of the worst parts of me, and yet still love me. I'm so glad God brought you into my life, and that we've been able to connect and mutually encourage and inspire time and again through the years. Times with you always leave me full, satisfied, inspired and challenged. Somehow through times with you I gain new hope, new energy for the journey! And this time, the bonus of a strategy for leeches!

You are a treasure! Thank you! Press on!

Why do I get it so good?

Why do I, why do WE, get it so good? Here I sit in a world class hospital, preparing for surgery--not life-threatening, not urgent now, though someday it may be. I've just been told that the insurance company has now responded--pre-approved. Yes, they will cover everything, 100%, thousands of dollars.

And I start to cry.

Yesterday was Mid-Autumn Festival, and I have access to this all--good health care, wonderful facilities. They've checked everything making sure my body is all fine for surgery.

Two years ago, on Mid-Autumn Festival, a woman died. She was born 8 years before me. I suspect her death was preventable. Oh, at that time it wasn't, emergency surgery only one week earlier had extended her life, but couldn't save it. By that time she was already too far gone. But two years earlier, or even earlier still, had she got a check-up, received some early treatment...would she still be here today? Would she get to watch her kids complete university? To see them, in the future marry, and have children? But she won't see any of those things. She's gone.

I know too many stories like this...probably simple antibiotics would have saved him. Maybe early surgery would have caught the cancer. Even the 16 year old who passed away two weeks ago--in the 10 days before she died, the hospital repeatedly told her father that he should transfer her to a hospital in a larger center, more equipped to help her. He refused, "Just do what you can here." It is understood that they have no money, previously spending all on his wife's cancer treatment. And minimum costs for that "more equipped" care, were just to much to even attempt.

And even when people DO go for treatment--what is available is sometimes so limited. Sometimes it hits me even about far smaller things. I also cried in February, back in Canada, in the hour between ordering my glasses, after checking my prescription, and waiting to pick them up. I just wished I could take my colleagues for a good eye exam--where you know the results of the exam will be accurate, the glasses good quality, and last for years. (Okay, I was extra emotional then, adjusting culturally and all...)

There's a sort of guilt that comes--a guilt for privilege I did not buy, grab, or in any way pursue; it just came to me, by being born. (I had a similar sense after watching the movie Amistad, feeling guilty for horrible sins I didn't personally commit.) Because I was born in a time, in an era, in a certain place, and related to certain people, I can get check-ups, while he just endures. I can get surgery and early treatment, but she dies.

What do I do with this? Feeling guilty doesn't help. Electing to not get the check-up or treatment available to me, doesn't mean that someone else will receive it. The unfairness of it all...and how so much of the "good" side of unfair landed on me--what can I do with this?

I can be grateful. I can share. I can strive to help those in my vicinity, my range of knowledge and reach. I can share my resources, and somewhat go in the direction of "loving others as I love myself." I can make sure those who work for me get annual physicals, and have insurance of some sort. I can make needs known, and together with others cover the costs, pay for some surgeries, do what we can (this, we have done!).

And I can, and I must, not take this for granted. There are areas in which I must continue to repent, and change and grow, and learn to be a better steward of this body I have been given. With what is given, and for as long as it lasts--this life, this body, this energy, this time granted to me that others may not have received--may it be offered, used well, spent loving and giving to God and to others. 

(post started Sept. 20, 2013)

Now I see

It's not often you get the chance to see what might have happened if you had not been there. We never see, actually, how much good our "help" has been. The alternative didn't happen, so you don't see it. We don't usually get an It's a Wonderful Life glimpse.

But last week, I think I did.

I wrote about the girl struggling for life  after her suicide attempt. "Attempt" became "success" eventually. It just took way longer and was perhaps way more painful than she had anticipated. It was painful to watch her that last night, about 6 hours before she died. Every breath was a chest heave and sounded like choking for a while. Eventually she calmed down (Did God help? Was it due to prayer?).  And it was painful, and yet bittersweet, to watch her father--wiping her brow, she was feverish. His wife dying at home, his daughter dying in hospital. And later, he will be left with neither of them.

Early on I realized, "This is the kind of student we help." Had she been recommended to us just one month earlier, knowing the family financial situation and that her mom is going to die soon, we would have chosen to help her through high school. But we didn't know.

And then I had another thought: we might have known, had I not made the decision I did.  About five or six months earlier, in the ongoing attempt to find a way to simplify our processes, and still find the kids that need help, we were discussing what we should do this year to find our 2013 new students. A staff member suggested, instead of going to our regular 4-6 schools, that we simply contact by phone ALL the schools (~17) in the county, have them recommend students. We were going with that for a while, but then I realized it would take way more work--way more conversations explaining ourselves, trips in very differing directions. I decided that we go back to our more usual method. So we didn't call the the junior high school this girl had graduated from. We didn't ask them to recommend poor and needy students. If we had called, would they have chosen her? Would they have told us about her situation? Maybe we would have known, told her we would help. Maybe she would not have gone to that edge, where the only way out she could see was death. 

Maybe.

But we didn't. And now she is gone. She's dead. Forever beyond our ability to help. No hope for a brighter future.

And now that she is gone, perhaps I have seen this other alternative, how it might have been for some of our students, or how it might be for some of our students in the future. Oh I don't know how many of our students "might have" attempted suicide. When we talk about suicide, many of our kids say they have thought of it. Maybe they still might attempt, even "under our care." I hope not.

What do I do with this Lord? I can't change "what might have been" and I don't want to wallow in guilt about that decision made just a couple of months ago. I did what I thought was best at that time. But what about for the future? Can I live with things the way they are? I don't want to stay in a world where kids feel there is no hope, there is no one to whom they can turn, there is nowhere they can turn for help. I don't think I should look at every person and think "He'll kill himself, she'll kill herself...if we don't help." And yet neither do I want to forget that this may be the reality for some. So many thoughts, so many possibilities come to mind... Lead me Lord... Lead us Lord...

She's 16

She's 16
Lying flat on her back 
In a hospital bed
Hardly eating
But can smile

Her mom
Late stage lung cancer
Dad
Some problems there
Not quite sure what

She wears a huge, awkward oxygen mask
Had trouble breathing the other day
Her kidneys and liver
All affected
Not sure how bad

She was supposed to start high school
About a month ago
But...maybe there was no money?

Was it mostly about her mom?
Or school?
Or other things?
Or everything altogether?

Somehow she decided to end it
Took pesticide
But still lives

I'm glad she still lives

I hope she lives
To find hope
To share the pain
To tell what has been going through her mind
To talk out
What's behind the tears
Every time her mom is mentioned

I hope she lives
And finds new life
And healing
A life of meaning
Strength to overcome
And love that goes deep and wide
Surrounding and drowning out
All the pain
All the sorrow
Love that won't let go
Won't give up
Can always be 
A refuge and strength

May there be a day
Of looking back
Amazed
At how close
And yet how far she's come

And may there be stories
And strength
To pass on to others

But that is far away...

For now, just...
Lord, please heal her body
Encourage her heart
Breath hope into her soul

But maybe...it's already too late... 


postscript: It was too late. She passed away about 7 hours after this was posted.

Follow-up reflections here.


 

At Jarius' house

It must have been such a great day. Sickness, and death, turned to resurrection and life. I can imagine the amazement, the joy, the laughter, the wonder!

Did You ever see a dead person You didn't heal? Did You ever stay around a dying person and just be with them as they died--to comfort them, and later the family?  I don't think there are any recorded. It seems You healed them, or were somewhere else when people died, and then sometimes You came to bring them back to life. Could You not stand it? Could the author of life not bear to be in the presence of death? The only death You stayed around to endure was...Your own. And soon that death, also ended in Life. It's all pretty amazing.

And yet, it's still disturbing, how we're left here to face death, and just watch it as it comes, try to cope after it happens. Some people say it's not like that. Some would say You want to heal--almost every time it seems, and raise many from the dead. I believe You do sometimes...but generally I don't buy that.

So...I'm just kind of wondering...why You couldn't allow death, and yet we need to. We'd all really rather be...in Jarius' house, or outside of Lazarus's tomb, or carrying the bier when you came over and raised the widow's son. We'd all like to see death, turned to life, sooner, rather than later. 

When "Mommy" Doesn't

Just read a quote from Katie Davis in this blog post. It's sweet, about what "Mommy" means:

...because "Mommy" is forever. It's such a powerful name. Mommy means "I trust you." Mommy means "you will protect me." Mommy is for shouting when you need someone dependable and for laughing with when you are excited. Mommy is for crying on and cuddling with when you are sad, or giggling and hiding behind when you are embarrassed. Mommy is the fixer of boo-boos and the mender of broken hearts. Mommy is a comfort place - a safe place. Mommy means "you are mine and I am yours and we are family.

Yes, that is what "Mommy," and later "Mom," is supposed to mean. I'm so thankful, my mom was that, when I was small, and still is "you are mine and I am yours and we are family." The commitment and the love never ends.

But what about when "Mommy" doesn't live up to that?

I sat across from a girl yesterday, tears were running down her face. "My mom... and another man... I hate my mom, but I don't know if I should hate her." For a few years she heard rumours about her mom and another man in the village, but this summer, two days after she went home, she and her sister were sleeping with her mom in her room, when suddenly that other man walked in. He had entered their house through the open kitchen window area. She called her dad--he had just left to work elsewhere a week earlier--and he came back. Dad told her he talked with her mom, she admitted everything, but put the blame on the other man. Dad talked to that man. Dad is still home now. Maybe it's all in the past?

What seems to hurt most--she had thought her mom was a good person.

Yes, it's what we want, what we need, what should be--moms and dads who love, protect, are good and faithful, people that we can look up to throughout our lives. But what about when our "mommy" doesn't live up to our expectations, to our hopes. What do you do when your mom betrays you, betrays the family?

I asked if I could pray for her. She seemed eager and thankful for me to do that.

Lord, I continue to lift her before You, please comfort, heal--the hurt, the anger, the hate. And I pray for her mom, and her dad...true repentance, wisdom, mercy, love, forgiveness, restoration...and whatever else is needed.

How long

"How long...Lord?"
Isn't that what Your people
Through the ages
Have begged to know?

It's one of the hardest parts
It seems
Not knowing
How long will it last?
What is the purpose?
What is the point?

It seems easier
When there is an end in sight
A "difficult" that you can
Measure
Rally your soul and body and spirit for
Plan for
But when...you just don't know
What are you supposed to do with that?

Maybe it's like the little kids in the back of the car
Who can't yet grasp time and distance
'Are we there yet?'
'How much longer?'
Somehow needing to learn to trust their parents
And their being in control
And their goodness

How long?
Where are we going?
What's the point?
We say and feel it
About little things
And when in enormous pain
Mine are mostly little...

Maybe someday I'll be
All grown up
Toughing it out
Simply saying
"Your will be done"
Knowing Your presence
Trusting Your goodness

Grief

The chorus of Jason Upton's Father of the Fatherless started going through my head again the other day--about half-way through the guys' grief support group. Three guys--all have had their fathers die. One--mom left even before that. Two of them--dad died when they were so young, they hardly knew what was happening. The other, between when mom left in grade 4, and his dad came back (from working away) with late stage cancer in grade 9, he only saw him two times. He walked into the hospital room with his cousin and his dad asked, "Which one of you is my son?" ...didn't even recognize his own son! One of the guys expressed so poignantly the loss--how hard it is, all the things you have to face when your father dies. Your family becomes poor. Older brothers and sisters had to drop out of school and go to work. He had to fight to be able to go to high school--mom wanted him to go off to work, but others rallied around to support. "Everything I have to learn by myself...even making friends, relating to other people." I'm glad he's finally found safety and courage to name the loss, name the pain.

Father of the fatherless
Come down and rescue us
We need You
We need You again
Friend of the the friendless
Come down and visit us
We need You
We need You again

And then the girls...oh, even more pain there, maybe because there were more of them, but also other factors that come in for girls. Twelve girls, and as one shared and cried, there would be tears and sniffling all around the circle. A couple were given to other families to raise, "They told everyone I had died." After being passed around several times, one finally got to live with her parents again. She said, "I worked hard to earn their love, I used my grades to show them I was a good girl and worthy of their love... it seems to be working, so I must have been successful." Her siblings would sometimes mock her saying she was "a child brought in from the wild." Sometimes, when fighting, they would tell her, "go home, to your home," meaning somewhere else, other than there. Ah, but she is comforted now by her "success." Even though she has health problems, her family seems willing to take her for treatment and pay whatever that costs. Another girl--her mom (both parents?) came to her grandma's house to give birth to her, then left, and she has never seen them again.

One was holding her mother, trying to prop her up to drink some sugar water, mom was having trouble, she told her brother to go get her dad, but by the time he got there she had stopped breathing. Does she wonder if it's her fault? Another--it sounded like she felt guilty for the death...if only her parents weren't away having to make money for her tuition. Oh...and there is much more.

Oh the pain they carry. Lord...please comfort...love them somehow...bring them home, to You, in You. And somehow, show us how to carry these burdens with them, to comfort, to encourage, to be Your love in the pain.