Finding Joy in the Waiting

     In any stage of life, I think waiting is one of the most difficult things God asks us to do. Patience is not a natural state for any person, but it is a character trait that God often requires us to exhibit. We wait to graduate high school. We wait to get married. We wait to be at an age where we can start a career or a family. We spend a great deal of time waiting.

     It is in these times that I have found it the most difficult to be content. Currently, I am waiting to have a baby. While I only have to wait a few more days, I have noticed that my attitude has become increasingly short-tempered. I have allowed my physical discomfort and heightened hormones to rule my attitude and at times steal my joy. Rather than focusing on the blessings in my life, I have allowed my mind to focus on only on the wait. Yes, this wait is almost over, but if I don't confront this attitude now then it will only continue after this wait time is over. At that point, will I only focus on waiting until Jude is sleeping through the night? Then will I focus on waiting until I can stop breastfeeding or until Autumn finally cooperates with potty training?

     If I don't check my mindset, then life becomes perpetual waiting for something "better" without noticing the joys of today. Patience and rejoicing are not my strengths, and it seems that God has to frequently remind me of these lessons.

    At this point I have to challenge myself to focus my mindset on finding joy and thankfulness in the everyday and the mundane instead of just waiting for next phase in life. What will you rejoice in today?

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such thing there is no law.

Galatians 5:22-23

Payback

     Brace yourself. You are in for a full-blown Mommy rant.

     People are constantly telling me how much my daughter is like me. And it's absolutely true. She looks like me, has a strong-will like me, is very verbal, and loves music. Since my daughter has turned two, I cannot count how many well meaning people have told me that my daughter is "paying me back" for how I was as a child. I can't seem to get her to be quiet when we pray at church, so people tell me "Well, that's just payback." She throws a fit; "Welcome to payback." She tells me "no;" "That's payback for you!" It's a common phrase that gets thrown at parents. I understand that these well meaning people are really trying to say, "Wow, you must have your hands full." But for a moment, can we just think about what is really being communicated. What is really being implied is that my daughter is my punishment for my toddler/childhood/teenage bad behavior.

     This is not how I view my child.

     Yes, at times she is difficult. Yes, at times she screams and cries. Yes, at times she and I go to battle. But she is two. Welcome to toddlers. God did not give me this child to punish me or to make me realize that I made my parents' lives difficult. If my son doesn't sleep for months after he is born, it wont be because God is paying me back for having colic as a newborn. God gave me these children as a blessing. 

     Psalm 127:3 states, "Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward." This doesn't exactly sound like "payback" or punishment to me.

     Yes, I realize that I have probably taken this too personally, but it is my fear that my childhood anger will be imposed on my daughter. I fear that because she is like me that people will assume that she is going to fall into the same sins I did. So being told that she is "payback" reinforces those fears.

     So here is my request: when speaking to parents about their children, can we just ask ourselves a few questions. 

•       Is this encouraging?
•       Is this beneficial?
•       If not, does it even need to be said?

     *Sigh* End rant.

Withered

     If you could have peered into my heart over the past month, I'm sure you would have seen a shriveled, ugly mess. I had pulled away from the Lord, neglected my quiet time, and then became angry because the Lord was silent. Two months ago, the announcement of a restructure at my husband's job all but pushed me over the edge. My thoughts were "Really, God! Aren't we dealing with enough!" And I became angry. I was angry that life continued to be troubled and uncertain. I was angry that I didn't feel peace (granted, I wasn't exactly seeking the Lord's peace). I was angry that the Lord hadn't placed me in a little protective bubble until I had fully recovered from the loss of my sister.

     Then Jacob was presented with the possibility of another job that would offer our family more security. I was immediately convicted about my heart's condition, and knew that I was undeserving of this blessing. But I was not ready to give up my anger. I held up this job as a spiteful test, almost taunting God to prove His goodness, all the while feeling like God should withhold it to punish my heart.

     About two and a half weeks ago, while everything was up in the air, I glued a smile on my face, and drug myself to Bible study, where, of course, conviction slapped me between the eyes. During the lesson, the Bible study leader reminded the group that "very often God does not take time to speak to us unless we turn aside to hear Him." And silently sitting there, I let my anger go, and I recommitted to seeking the Lord. I began to find new joy in the Word that I had neglected. I began to look for small, daily ministries that I could do. I returned to doing the things that I knew I should do. And the Lord was faithful to His Word in Psalm 40:1-2:

I waited patiently for the Lord;

He inclined to me and heard my cry.

He drew me up from the pit of destruction,

Out of the miry bog

And set my feet upon a rock

Making my steps secure.

The Lord has graciously delivered me from the anger I had been experiencing. His undeserved grace continues to extend to me regardless of my emotional state. He pulled me out off the depression I had helplessly sunk into like quick sand. And the job no longer mattered as much because I finally recognized that God is good regardless of the result.

The Isolation of Grief

     It has been nearly a month since my sister passed away. Shock has worn off, and grief has really begun to take its toll. Although the Lord has given me a tremendous joy by allowing me to discover my pregnancy shortly after Rachel passed away, the extra hormones, fatigue, and nausea have not exactly made grieving easier.

     As I have been trying to process everything that has happened over the past year, the lie that I am all alone in this has been creeping into my mind. Of course, the best lies are those that contain an element of truth. The truth is that no one outside my immediate family understands what the experience was like because no one else experienced it first hand. No one other than my family carries the memories of the last year. No one else understands what it was like to rejoice when Rachel made small improvements, all the while being horrified by the knowledge that we would soon be watching this process in reverse. No one else understands what it was like during the last two weeks of her life when my brother, sister-in-law, and I essentially moved into my parents' house because the burden of being away from her was too great. No one else watched when her pain pump malfunctioned and her eyes became wild with pain, and we were helpless. No one else spent the last week watching her for hours just breath and counting the seconds between her breaths because she developed Apnea. At times, I have nightmares about these memories that haunt me.

     In some very real ways, no one else really understands, and we are alone.

     But just because others don't fully understand doesn't mean they are disqualified from empathizing and sharing in my burden. At times, I have allowed myself to believe the lie that I am completely alone in this struggle. But then God has graciously sent along someone with these words: "I know that I don't understand what you are going through, but I am so sorry you are experiencing this." Sounds simple, but the effect is profound because the words were genuine and heartfelt. At other times, God has sent me friends who just quietly listened to my anguish. In these instances, the Lord gently reminds my heart that I am not alone.

     But even greater than that, I have a God who knows my heart intimately, who has been there with me in every moment. He knows my every emotion and thought from the past year. I have been so comforted by Hebrews 4:15-16 which states, "For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace in time of need." It is because I have a God who intimately sympathizes and understands that I can confidently know He will extend me grace and mercy during times of need. When I come to Him in prayer, He never responds with "I have no idea what you are going through." Rather, Christ is called "a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief" (Is. 53:). I take great comfort in having a God who understands.

Lessons from 2013

     2013 obviously will not go down in the books as the easiest year of my life. But as difficult as this year has been, I have learned so much about the Lord. Many of these lessons were things that I have known on an academic level since I was a child. However, this year I began to understand these things on a deeper and more practical level.

     1. At times life is too overwhelming to live a day at a time. Sometimes it is too hard to see the end of a day, and the only way to remain sane is to repeatedly carry my sorrows, anxiety, and anger to the Lord on an hourly or momentary basis. During Rachel's final days when we were all essentially on death watch, I never knew what each day would bring. Would she decline today? How much? Will her pain be controlled today? Will she die today? These unanswerable questions tormented my mind until I learned to frequently escape into the Lord's arms. I would pour out my heart and vocalize my frustration with the fact that I could not understand what the Lord was doing. When I was frustrated because the Lord allowed her to remain and struggle after she was unable to move and communicate, I had to repeatedly cast down my cares as I felt my anxiety rise. I learned that I have to trust the Lord in this moment, then trust Him again when the next moment arrives.

     2. God is sovereign and His timing is perfect. Clearly, I do not understand everything the Lord is doing with His timing, but He has been gracious to show me momentary glimpses into His timing. Rachel was diagnosed with her cancer just weeks after I finished my student teaching. So I was able to be available to assist my family. The Lord also provided me with an online tutoring job that allowed me to remain accessible to my family. the timing of these events provided me with flexibility so that I could spend a significant amount of time with my sister. Thus, I grew closer to her. I saw the beauty of her heart during this struggle and came to truly admire her.

     3. Joy and happiness are not the same thing. Happiness is a purely emotional state of being, and in the past month, I have not experienced a lot of genuine happiness. Sure, I have had moments with my husband, daughter, other family members, or friends that have brought me happiness, but those have primarily been brief distractions. However, joy has been much more abundant. Joy is a choice, a worldview, an attitude about life. I am joyful that my sister Rachel has been perfectly healed and is now in Heaven. But, I am not happy about it because I miss her here on earth. In combating despair, I have to choose to focus on an eternal perspective and on the things I can be joyful about.

     4. Truth is crucial. My heart lies to me on a daily basis. My heart tells me that I'm alone, that God has forgotten me, that no one cares, and so many other lies. This year, I have learned to cling to the truth because it will set me free (John 8:32). I have learned to tell my feeling they are wrong and dwell on the character and promises of God rather than letting my mind run wild. I have begun to learn to take every thought captive (2 Corinthians 10:5)

     5. Compassion is truly beautiful. As previously stated, I learned so much about compassion from my sister. In her final weeks, she was comforting others as they grieved. And it was beautiful to watch. It was a beautiful display of the strength and grace of God. In those moments, I didn't see a sick and dying 22 year old; I was Christ shining through her. I saw the beauty of her heart.

     I haven't set any resolutions for 2014 nor am I super excited about new beginnings because grief doesn't end with the beginning of a new year. This next year will be hard because each holiday and event will be my family's first without Rachel. I do not know what joys and hardships this year will bring, but I do know that God will still be good. He was good last year when I miscarried a pregnancy. He was good when He perfectly healed Rachel in Heaven. He is good. And He will still be good this year, regardless of what comes.

But I have trusted in your steadfast love;

my heart shall rejoice in your salvation.

I will sing to the Lord,

because he has dealt bountifully with me.

Psalm 13:5-6

See You Soon, Rachel

     On December 31st at about 1 AM Rachel went home to be with the Lord. She is now in the presence of her Lord and Savior where she will no longer struggle or experience pain. And I look forward to the day when I will get to join her.

     Over the past several days, I have been thinking a great deal about my sister's life and about who she was as a person. Compassion dominated my sister's life. Every time Rachel would ask for prayer for a friend or acquaintance, she would cry or tear up because she had a heart that genuinely hurt for other people. She could feel the pain of others and she carried it in her heart as if it were her own pain. My sister's soft heart taught me so much about the love and compassion of our Father God. Her life and behavior often challenged me to view people and their pain the way that God views them. Rather than being self-centered, Rachel exhibited a pattern of putting others before herself. Even during her battle with cancer this past year, she took time to pray for her friends because their struggles were important to her. In her final weeks, she frequently told me that she was worried. She was not worried about pain, death, suffering, or the loss of her physical abilities. She was worried about her friends and family and the pain we would experience

     Because of her compassion, Rachel was a person of forgiveness. Since she cared so deeply about the hurt and feelings of others, Rachel was often able to forgive when anger and resentment would have been an expected reaction. She forgave those who mocked her, forgot her, ignored her, or used her. Regardless of how people treated her, she still cared about their well-being and expressed concern for them. I seriously cannot remember a time in which Rachel spoke about having a hard time forgiving someone. I remember once several years ago when Rachel was telling me about feeling left out with a specific group of people. My advise to her was to write off those people and find new friends. Of course, she ignored me, and began to tell me about all the problems these friends were dealing with. She told me she needed to be there to help them even if they only wanted her around when they had a problem. Her friendship was selfless.

     Rachel was not the deepest thinker nor could she impress you with her knowledge of theological terms, but she had a heart like Christ. She loved people quickly and demonstrated that love in her words and actions.

     I will deeply miss my sister. I will miss her encouragement and positive outlook. I will miss her smile and her devotion to others. I will miss watching her play with my daughter and niece. But I look forward to the day when I will get to join her in the presence of Christ. We had a common bond in our desire to serve our Lord. When the Lord allows me to finish my race, then I will be reunited with her in Heaven.

     See you soon, Rachel.

The Decline

     Last week, my family called in hospice due to my sister's declining health. On Monday we were told that Rachel probably had about 3-4 weeks left. On Wednesday, it was reduced to about 2 weeks, and Friday it was again reduced to about a week. As morbid as it sounds, we are essentially waiting for her to die. Yet, despite the grim news we received, my family has been surrounded by peace. Although we have all been sucker punched with grief at times, the Lord has been faithful. I am thankful for the sacrifice of Jesus Christ to which my sister clings. I have full confidence that Rachel will be going to be with the Lord where she will be healed completely. I have to remember that Paul says that "to die is gain" (Philippians 1:21) because when she passes away, she will open her eyes to a place of perfection where she will never suffer again. She is going to glory to be with the God she has faithfully served. While I grieve because of the loss I will soon experience, I know it is temporary. One day, I will get to go Home and join her in perfectly praising our Creator. But for now, I must continue to run my race. I must be faithful with the time the Lord has given me on this earth. God is still good, and He will forever be my Sustainer and Comforter.

For this perishable body must put on the imperishable, and this mortal body must put on immortality. When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written:

"Death is swallowed up in victory."

"O death, where is your victory?

O death, where is your sting?"

The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain.

1 Corinthians 15:53-58

The Afters - Broken Hallelujah