I just heard that my neighbor's 20 year-old son passed away. He struggled with drug addiction and it finally was what ended his life.
I've been thinking about what to write in a sympathy card to the family, and especially the mom, who I talk to pretty regularly. The words I use will probably be gentle and vague and perhaps not very meaningful. But what I want to say is that...
Death is a terrible, tragic thing in anyone's life. It is wrong and unfair. It is the hateful conclusion to our lifelong struggle against the curse of sin and death we inherited from our first father, Adam. Even when it is a person who has lived a long life of many good things, there is still a great loss and sadness. In the best case, those left behind can be comforted that they will see their loved one again when they meet in heaven with their Lord and Savior. But even then, it just doesn't feel right. We were created as eternal beings. Interruption of our life, even if it is just in this world, still seems wrong.
And to think of how a mother must feel to see her son, still young, cut off by an addiction that crippled the fruitfulness of much of his life. The regret, the guilt, the what-if's, if-only's. I think of how much potential and hope I have for my own son and I imagine the deep, gut-wrenching sadness of seeing him make the wrong decisions. Watching him walk a path that will only lead to destruction.
What a wake-up call to what really matters in this life. I'm outside trimming rose bushes, contemplating these things and I pray that God would protect my kids from life-stealing sins. And then I thought what I really need to pray for is just that they would know their needfulness of God. That they would see their sin when they are small and learn to go to God for forgiveness and restoration. That God would clothe them in wisdom and strengthen them in making choices that please Him. And I pray that God would continually focus me on the things that really matter. The heart issues that lie below the surface. Not just the behaviors that annoy or hurt on the outside.
As ugly and sad as it is, I'm thankful for death. I'm thankful for the reminder that this life is just a blink of the eye. We are but grass that withers away and the things that matter are the eternal ones... loving God with all our heart, soul and strength.
Lord, help me store up treasures that do not fade: the thoughts, attitudes and actions that honor You.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Friday, August 5, 2011
Huge Thanks for Little Gifts
All I can say is that you all are praying out there. Today was SO much better than the first few days of the week. I really could see the gifts of God today in so many ways.
We had a great time with friends at the beach and I got to see Z really playing with his friend and handling little interactions of sharing and getting into each other's projects. And then, the highlight of the morning was when I looked up to see him coming up out of the water, his little face streaming with water and a look of surprise on his face. I started toward him, thinking he had fallen, waiting for him to start crying, and then he burst into a triumphant smile! I heard him tell his friend, "That's a duck dive!" Oh, man! I was so proud of him! He NEVER puts his face in the water! And to see him do it on his own just for fun was spectacular!
This afternoon at the park, we found some chalk. Z wrote his entire name on the sidewalk. Another first! He has never written his whole name anywhere! He has shown a lot more interest in writing and drawing lately, which is so encouraging. He is showing more control of his hold on the pen and wanting to draw things more clearly. He has a journal he has been filling with pictures with squiggles at the bottom; he told us he is writing a book!
What a great day!
We had a great time with friends at the beach and I got to see Z really playing with his friend and handling little interactions of sharing and getting into each other's projects. And then, the highlight of the morning was when I looked up to see him coming up out of the water, his little face streaming with water and a look of surprise on his face. I started toward him, thinking he had fallen, waiting for him to start crying, and then he burst into a triumphant smile! I heard him tell his friend, "That's a duck dive!" Oh, man! I was so proud of him! He NEVER puts his face in the water! And to see him do it on his own just for fun was spectacular!
This afternoon at the park, we found some chalk. Z wrote his entire name on the sidewalk. Another first! He has never written his whole name anywhere! He has shown a lot more interest in writing and drawing lately, which is so encouraging. He is showing more control of his hold on the pen and wanting to draw things more clearly. He has a journal he has been filling with pictures with squiggles at the bottom; he told us he is writing a book!
What a great day!
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
On the Edge
I have felt on the edge of so many things lately. On the edge of frustration, losing my patience, anger, sadness, tears, harsh words, headaches. And also on the edge of joy streaming down my cheeks in tears, gratefulness, revelation, understanding. It seems that every time God has adjusted my perspective again to the right things and I'm able to focus on the gifts and joy in my life, a few hard moments or a rough couple nights of sleep take it all away again.
After a busy weekend and time with lots of great friends, I woke up on Monday morning stripped. And if I felt tired, then it's reasonable to assume the kids would be tired too. Needless to say, Z has been more difficult the past few days. And I have been weak and exhausted. Not a good combination. The battles in the moment are hard - keeping calm while he spews angry words and he's coming unhinged and it's all I can do to think clearly about what my next step should be. But it's usually after the battle that I break down. He'll be back to playing, having done his time and offered his apology. And I'm washing dishes in the kitchen, hiding my sobbing, screwed up face, trying to keep my shoulders from shaking.
I feel angry and sad and insufficient. Lies circle in my head, like cawing crows, saying that I can't do this any more, and, if I could just get away...
And the funny thing is that the chapter I read this weekend from One Thousand Gifts was about needing to daily go to God for sustenance. To daily focus on the beauty and gifts He has given. Just like the manna had to be collected daily in the desert lest we forget our dependence on God. And the most important thing is to find the manna- the little miracles of yumminess in a barren, desolate place- among the every day. To not need to get away or be alone to see the beauty. Up to this point, my list making has been on Sundays when I have time to myself to reflect. It's not enough. It fills the gas tank but there is a hole in my tank and the joy is all gone by Monday morning.
So, tomorrow is a new day. I'll start a new day finding the gifts God sends me. And I'll leave you with the last few I wrote down (some of which aren't from Sunday. Smile.)
73. Son's crooked mouth and half-closed eye when he's pondering something
75. Harper's muppet hair when she wakes up in the morning
76. cotton ball clouds
77. Silence when the kids finally do go to sleep.
After a busy weekend and time with lots of great friends, I woke up on Monday morning stripped. And if I felt tired, then it's reasonable to assume the kids would be tired too. Needless to say, Z has been more difficult the past few days. And I have been weak and exhausted. Not a good combination. The battles in the moment are hard - keeping calm while he spews angry words and he's coming unhinged and it's all I can do to think clearly about what my next step should be. But it's usually after the battle that I break down. He'll be back to playing, having done his time and offered his apology. And I'm washing dishes in the kitchen, hiding my sobbing, screwed up face, trying to keep my shoulders from shaking.
I feel angry and sad and insufficient. Lies circle in my head, like cawing crows, saying that I can't do this any more, and, if I could just get away...
And the funny thing is that the chapter I read this weekend from One Thousand Gifts was about needing to daily go to God for sustenance. To daily focus on the beauty and gifts He has given. Just like the manna had to be collected daily in the desert lest we forget our dependence on God. And the most important thing is to find the manna- the little miracles of yumminess in a barren, desolate place- among the every day. To not need to get away or be alone to see the beauty. Up to this point, my list making has been on Sundays when I have time to myself to reflect. It's not enough. It fills the gas tank but there is a hole in my tank and the joy is all gone by Monday morning.
So, tomorrow is a new day. I'll start a new day finding the gifts God sends me. And I'll leave you with the last few I wrote down (some of which aren't from Sunday. Smile.)
73. Son's crooked mouth and half-closed eye when he's pondering something
75. Harper's muppet hair when she wakes up in the morning
76. cotton ball clouds
77. Silence when the kids finally do go to sleep.
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