I die a little bit every day

Last Wednesday I called a friend of mine. It wasn’t really a good time for her to talk then, so I promised I would call again later.

She and I became fast friends as freshmen in college. Our dorm rooms were right across the hall from each other. We did a lot of laughing and learning and sharing secrets in that dorm hall.

Marriage, children, careers, divorce, time and miles have all played some part in us not being as close now as we were back then. Plus, you’re just never as close to someone again once you give up sharing a bathroom and a hall telephone (imagine that, we went away to college without cell phones!).

A couple of months ago I received one of those “it’s-been-ages-and-how-the-heck-are-you” emails from her that we trade every few years or so. She told me in that email that she has cancer.

I couldn’t seem to get her out of my mind earlier this week, which is what prompted me to call her. I tried to call her a second time on Thursday. Alas, it was still not a good time to talk. I told her not to worry, I would keep trying to call until we finally hit the right time. I hung up the phone again not really knowing any updates on her condition. I didn’t know how she was feeling or what she was thinking or anything.

Even though I knew nothing about her current condition, I sensed a great burden to pray for her. I know we’re not that close any more, but suddenly she became the only friend I could think about.

I went to bed that night unable to stop tears from dripping down my face. I prayed for her family. She’s a single mom with four sons. The youngest is still in high school. She teaches music to elementary school children. I prayed for them. I laid there thinking how it just didn’t seem right. I mean, I know death is imminent for all of us. But why this way? Not that I have any kind of death wish, but why did it have to be her instead of me? I mean, there are only two people in my office (including me), I don’t have any children, and I do have a loving husband. If I were dying, there would be far fewer lives affected by it.

We may never really know why suffering and grief gets distributed the way it does on this earth, but I do know that I cannot waste it. I must find a way to see the glory that God can use it for. It’s not always easy.

When I woke up Friday, I still felt the burden. And kept praying.

Then I began to read other blogs. Ones I read frequently. The first post I read was about a woman teaching her son that life wasn’t fair and if it was, he (and I) would have a lot less than we do and others would have a lot more. She wrote on about going to a medical facility to have blood drawn for a non-life threatening condition and being surrounded by a waiting room full of bald people waiting for chemo. All she could do afterwards was cry fierce tears over the unfairness of it all. And there is nothing we can do about it but trust God.

I cried some more. And prayed.

Then I read a second blog post. It was the one year anniversary of the birth and death of a child. They knew before the little girl was born that she would not survive, but they chose to trust God and not terminate the pregnancy. Apparently they planted a tree in the little girl’s memory and now after a year, it needed to be pruned. The mother wrote how about difficult that experience was for her, even though she knew that God tells us He has to do it in order for us to grow. Pruning hurts.

I cried some more. And I thought about pruning. I had always thought of pruning as something that was done to each individual. Everyone needs a little pruning of their own braches in order to grow. It wasn’t until all of this that I saw pruning as maybe something that happens to the human race as a whole. I mean, maybe some lives are plucked so that others will grow.

I went to the next blog and read on. This one talked about speaking at the memorial service of a long time friend. The service was for a woman who had won a temporary battle with cancer and through it inspired other woman to truly pray in faith. The cancer returned later and God took her home. The speaker at the service talked about the woman who reached out for the hem of Jesus’ garment, and was healed. She went on to say that even with that miraculous healing, that woman still eventually died from something else. We all do. The best we will ever get in this world in just a hem of healing. The real, true healing comes after we leave this earth.

OK. So I cried and cried and cried some more wondering, why is everything I’m encountering focused on death??? I grieved over it all the entire day.

That day was Good Friday.

Now it is Saturday. The dark, dark days in between Jesus’ death and His resurrection.

My friend with cancer; like I said, we’re not as close as we once were. The blog posts I read; I have never met any of the writers personally. I don’t really know any of these people well and yet, I am grieving for them.

I thought about what I would do if they were all my close friends.

Jesus is my close friend. I hate what they did to him.

But I love what He did for me. He came back. He brought life for all of us that are grieving.

There is hope.

More or Less

I have never really one to make resolutions on New Years. It usually takes me too long to finally make up my mind about something, especially something life changing. By the time I convince myself mentally, it's way past January 1 and on into the summer. By then swimsuit season is in full swing, so no use to make the weight loss commitment and reading the Bible through in a year, well, if I double up I can do it in six months, can't I? (Have you ever read the entire books of Leviticus and Deuteronomy in one sitting?!)

Plus, the older I get, the harder it is to change my life anyway.

I don't really have a detailed plan, but I do have a prayer for the new 2009 year.

Here it is:

He must become greater; I must become less. John 3:30

Freedom

This weekend I had the privilege to pray with a sweet couple who have spent over 4 decades as missionaries in a foreign country. They have been back in the States for a couple of months.

On the field, they were living and working on the eastern edge of a country that's half way around the world from where I am. It's close to the border of two other countries, and a third country not too far beyond. While all of these countries are close neighbors in proximity, they're not really on friendly terms with each other.

The work these friends participate in involves people of several nationalities. Their work, after all, is about people. So many people there are looking for freedom from a long list of things. Being in bondage to a stronghold is tough enough when it's partly of our own making. Having one forced on you by government is one I can hardly fathom. That's the kind of governments they're surrounded by over there.

Borders are patrolled by armed guards. Those guards and their guns are there to keep people from fleeing. Not just to keep people out, but to keep people in.

Some women are forced to have abortions, even at gunpoint.

Sharing your faith in Jesus in public is against the law. I'm not sure what the penalty is if you're caught doing that, but I think probably threats at gunpoint are involved.

Only once in my life have I had a gun pointed at my head. My perpetrator was using a gun to break the law, not enforce it. By the grace of God I survived that incident without any serious physical harm, but I will never forget it. I will never forget that as my life was threatened all I could think about was getting out of that situation.

There are probably times when that thought is foremost on the minds of the people in those countries too.

As of next month, this couple will be officially retired as missionaries. They will no longer have to report to the professional organization that has supported and sponsored them all these years. Not only will they be free from that responsibility, but they will also be free from any of the financial support (which was most likely modest) they have been used to for much of their lives.

They have found a way to take advantage of their new freedoms. In just a couple of days, they will be going back to that foreign country. On their own. Without that umbrella of professional support. They will, however, have the prayer support of people like me who often take our freedoms for granted. There are still people over there that need help finding the freedom only Jesus can give them.

Oh, there is so much work to be done.
Please help me pray for them.

It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery. Galatians 5:1

It's NOT the same old story

I have heard the story retold over and over again. I've imagined the scene in my mind thousand times. I heard it frequently and early enough in my young life that very early on I created pictures in my mind to match the story. Even though I made up the images, I memorized the faces. Every time I hear the story, I see the same faces in my mind. And the same setting too, again my own creation.

It plays out exactly the same way every time I hear the story. Scruffy John, dressed in dark colors, baptizes Jesus, who in my mind of course, is dressed in light colors. The sun is high in the sky and reflects in the water. Jesus goes under. The water ripples. God is pleased and sends a dove to light on Jesus. Actually, it was the Holy Spirit that was sent like a dove. But even with that mysterious element, the picture was still clearly etched in my mind.

Until now.

Not that what has played out in my head has been wrong. It's just that now, even after all this time and all those re-runs, I discovered a missing piece that has changed the whole picture for me. I always thought Jesus being baptized as a servant and beginning his official "ministry" here on earth was what pleased God and brought on the Holy Spirit. Yes, but that's not the whole story.

Look for yourself, right there in the third chapter of Luke. Jesus was PRAYING when the Holy Spirit came down on him. Praying. No wonder God was pleased!

Prayer. It's how and why the power of the Holy Spirit comes to earth. Excuse me, please, I have some things I need to go and talk to God about!

When all the people were being baptized, Jesus was baptized too. And as he was praying, heaven was opened and the Holy Spirit descended on him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven: "You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased."
Luke 3:21-22