Recently, I had the great joy of watching our three oldest grandchildren for almost the entire day while their parents and baby sister were out of town. We had lots of fun, and I’m not sure who was more worn out at the end of the day, me or them, since we played and read and sang and danced and colored all day with little break. All of you reading this who are more experienced in this grandparent stage of life were right - it is wonderful! And to those of you coming behind, I can say that watching your grandchildren learn and grow is one of the most wondrous gifts in all of life. Late in the evening when the other three returned home, I enjoyed watching our newest granddaughter, who is just a few months old, curling up in her mom’s arms, trying to scrunch up into her little pre-born ball shape again. She snuggled in tight, her nose pressed against her mama’s shoulder, and tucked herself in. After a day out and about in the bright sunshine and noisy crowds, she was more than ready to turn in for the night. Everything about the way she was moving let us know she was longing for her old hangout again - that safe, quiet womb, where for a lovely season she had everything she needed and nothing that she didn’t. It was sweet to watch, but it set me thinking. Very few people in the world really love moving on to the next, new thing. Most of us like it right here, right now, with this just like I like it and that right where it ought to be. Letting go of something old and familiar is so difficult. Many years ago, our younger daughter was downright dismayed when, on her third birthday, her dad and I presented her and her sister with a brand new, handmade bunk bed. She’d been watching the construction for a couple of days, excitedly chatting with her dad and the friend who was helping him, enjoying watching the custom bunk bed complete with a ladder and a slide, take shape. But all the while she had no idea that this fabulous new bed meant that we were getting rid of her beloved crib! She mourned the loss of her crib for weeks. Though it was decades ago now, I still remember the last day of tenth grade, finishing up my final exam, and dreading the walk out of the building. I had planned to meet my best friend in the high school’s foyer, to say our final goodbye. My parents and our dog were in the parking lot waiting for me, the car loaded to the top, ready to begin the cross-country trip to our new home. I cried as I hugged my closest friend one last time, unable to imagine how turtleneck-wearing, New England me was going to fare amongst the California natives; unable to fathom how I would ever have friends, or a swim team, or a youth group as wonderful as the ones there and then. It felt like the end of the line, with the road ahead so foggy and dark - not navigable at all. There are so many junctures like this in life: from the expected and welcome things like a graduation, moving away to college or leaving home for the military, starting a new job, or getting married and starting a family; to the unexpected things like suddenly losing someone you love, a divorce, a miscarriage, losing a job, or receiving a terrible diagnosis. All of us know people who can’t quite move past the change, and it is often sad to see. From the middle-aged person who cries despondently over the glory days of high school, to the divorcé who can’t seem to move past the loss, to the person who still spews bitterness at a past lost job or opportunity, it is actually difficult to watch someone get stuck. But it isn’t at all hard to imagine ending up there. Change and loss can be quite painful and even traumatic for all of us. Each new crossroad in life is certainly a stretch, and often a grueling exercise in learning to not just survive the change, but to find a way to thrive in it. Henri Nouwen, in his excellent book Turn My Mourning into Dancing, offers great insight: These changes, expected and unexpected, “usher into our lives ‘small deaths.’ They remind us that fear and love are born at the same time. Both are never entirely separated in our existence. But as we come into contact with these little deaths, we meet life. They allow us to learn to let go. They prepare us to discover a life different from what we have known before.” I have found this to be true, haven’t you? My daughter long ago stopped wishing for her crib, or even that great bunk bed, and now she and her husband have a wonderful king-sized bed in their home. Though I still treasure my childhood friends and memories, I’ve learned to thank God for that painful cross-country move, which eventually put me in the right place at the right time to meet both my Savior and my husband in college. Experiences like this help us to know that change, even if terribly painful at the time, can lead to something more than could have been imagined, be it a relationship, or experience, or purpose, or insight. These life changes all serve to further God’s work in our hearts and lives, shaping us to be the men and women He created us to be. They teach us and refine us, help us to trust God and to follow Him, and ultimately can serve to conform us into the image of Jesus. A friend of ours is trudging through another round of chemotherapy this week. He is handling the pain and weariness so admirably, and encourages us with his heart of gratitude to God for a long, full life. We pray for his healing, and for many more years of life! Still, he is coming nearer to the door that we all wonder about, the greatest and most unknown change of all. Letting go of this life is both a certainty and a mystery for each of us. And, whether we are conscious of it or not, most of us spend a lot of time and energy in avoiding this door, even fearing it. In our youth-obsessed culture, in which too many are trying to hold back aging and seeking to perpetually defy death in so many ways, it is wise for every follower of Christ to remember what our faith has to say about this last, great change of death. God calls us to a relationship with Him that will last forever; the here-and-now is not all there is to life at all! The Apostle Paul reminded us that to live is Christ and to die is gain, as departing and actually being with Christ is by far better than anything any of us have yet known. The psalmist declared, "How lovely is your dwelling place, Lord Almighty! My soul yearns, even faints, for the courts of the Lord; my heart and my flesh cry out for the living God...better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere." Jesus told Nicodemus, "For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through Him." Jesus gave His own life so that we could believe in Him and really live, now and forever, and He asks us to trust Him with our hearts and lives. We don't need to fear change in life, each one of which better prepares us for the greatest change to come. So many voices from the great Cloud of Witnesses challenge us in learning to let go, and in taking courage as we move towards the ultimate change...
From Elisabeth Elliot - “There is no ongoing spiritual life without this process of letting go. At the precise point where we refuse, growth stops. If we hold tightly to anything given to us, unwilling to let it go when the time comes to let it go or unwilling to allow it to be used as the Giver means it to be used, we stunt the growth of the soul. It is easy to make a mistake here, “If God gave it to me,” we say, “its mine. I can do what I want with it.” No. The truth is that it is ours to thank Him for and ours to offer back to Him, ours to relinquish, ours to lose, ours to let go of – if we want to find our true selves, if we want real life, if our hearts are set on glory.” To Dietrich Bonhoeffer - "No one has yet believed in God and in the kingdom of God...no one has yet heard about the realm of the resurrected, and not been homesick from that hour, waiting and looking forward joyfully to being released from bodily existence...Death is hell and night and cold, if it is not transformed by our faith. But that is just what is so marvelous, that we can transform death." To Nouwen again - “Because of such convictions we can can face dying with more than dread or avoidance. We can learn to live well all the more because we do not insist on ignoring what we cannot predict. Learning how to die has something to do with living each day in full awareness that we are children of God, whose love is stronger than death. And as we learn to do so, we find ourselves, in small ways at first, beginning not to cling to what we have, not in panic trying to reserve the safe place we can clamp on to in the here and now. We admit we don’t know what the next day will hold, what our loved ones will say or do next, what God may be about in the year ahead. But this does not dispirit us because we also remind ourselves that we never will find out if we do not open our choices to the risk.” What changes are you facing in life? What cherished and precious people or things or seasons are you leaving behind? Be encouraged today - God won't leave or forsake you, and He will bring depth and wisdom to your life through this season of letting go, as you trust Him. Fix your eyes afresh on the author and perfecter of your faith, and let Him do a deep work in your heart and life. May the Lord bless and keep you, and make His face shine upon you, and may He give you great courage this week to face every change that life brings your way. I have a fond memory of a conversation I had one morning years ago with two friends, one of whom was born and raised in India, and the other of whom was born and raised in Great Britain. We somehow got to discussing the seemingly innocuous, yet often painful question, "So, where are you from?" I understand why this can be so disconcerting for people who live, let’s say, elsewhere. I was born at a hospital near a Navy base, during one of many stops my parents made throughout their tenure in the military. I was born there, we lived there for a while, I even still have a few good friends from there, but am I from there? Alas, no. That morning, the three of us discussed how strange it feels not to be from where you live. Everyone who lives where they are really from feels so confident, so comfortable, and so much a part of the fabric of that place and those people. When you are not really from there, you cannot help but feel the opposite of all of those things - not a part of the people, not a part of the fabric of the place. Your accent gives you away, your weird idioms give you away, even the way you dress can give you away. For example, there are entirely different words and names for things in different places; people in California and Texas do not call sub sandwiches grinders like they do in Connecticut - ask me how I know! It can be so strange to live in a place you aren’t really from. I think the apostle Paul deeply understood this concept. This man, Saul as he was formerly known, had quite a pedigree: as he put it, "circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; in regard to the law, a Pharisee; as for zeal, persecuting the church; as for righteousness based on the law, faultless." On top of all of that, he was born and raised in Tarsus, which gave him highly coveted Roman citizenship. He was well-educated, and was a rising leader among his generation - he even had the honor to hold everyone's coats while the elders stoned that heretic Stephen to death for his ridiculous blasphemy. Saul was a man very comfortable in the time and place his birth and heritage afforded to him, and very sure of his place in the world. But one day as he was hot on the heels of some of those vile Christ-followers that he was committed to eradicate, Jesus came and knocked Saul to the ground, both literally and spiritually. With one perfect question (see Acts 9), Jesus revolutionized Saul's entire life, and immediately Saul realized that he wasn’t from around here at all. He had become Paul, the Lord's sent one to the gentiles, and spent the rest of his life explaining how this world and all of its rules and regulations and systems and structures are so other than the place we all really belong. Sometimes people try to say that the Kingdom of God is upside down from this world, but I’m pretty sure it is the other way around. The world, as beautiful as it was created to be, has been corrupted by sin, which has wormed its way into everything - every human heart, and every atom of this beautiful creation, which means it is full of corrupted relationships, systems, structures, institutions, and nations. The entire point of our faith is grateful recognition and acceptance that Jesus came to demolish sin and its curse, and to usher in His own perfect kingdom. We read all throughout scripture that the Lord had so much to say about what this new, beautiful, incorruptible, lasting kingdom is like. In His kingdom, to be last means to be first, to live means to die, and to love means to lay your life down for someone else. In Jesus' kingdom, the people reflect Him, and are full of love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, kindness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control. The people of his kingdom are meek and merciful and makers of peace. In the upside-down world that we all live in right now, the locals are altogether different from those of Jesus' kingdom. They live only for today, and what they can get out of it. They do not believe in Jesus or His Kingdom, and instead believe that this is is all there is, so it makes perfect sense to take what you can get no matter what it might cost yourself or anyone else. You might as well eat more, and drink more, dull your pain more, get more pleasure, and grasp what you can, because when you die, that’s it. This world tells you that you had better look out for number one because nobody else will. They do not reflect Jesus, and instead become gradually more full of restlessness and fits of rage, anger and despair, and have no self-control at all. They are proud and boastful, stirring up strife and dissension wherever they go, and have no mercy; rather, they are ruthless. The Bible is clear that people who live like this will not inherit the kingdom of God. (Gal 5, 1 Cor 6) People of Jesus' Kingdom know that this is not our home, and that here-and-now is not all there is to life. The longer we walk with Jesus, the more we stick out like a sore thumb and feel uncomfortable here; the more we realize like Paul did that we're not from around here, after all. Rather, what comes next is the most real and lasting part of life, where there will be no more death, and every tear will be wiped away. The only way to get there is through Jesus, and to be washed clean by His sacrifice. And that place is perfect, untouched by sin, which means that all of us from here must experience tremendous change between now and then, if we are to live there someday. This process is called sanctification, and the Holy Spirit works tirelessly at this in each of our lives. Even more, He invites us to participate in this work through our daily choices. All this means that between now and then, there is going to be a lot of culture clash in all of our hearts and lives. Just like my friends and I who had to learn to be Texan, we all have to learn to be fit citizens of the Kingdom of Heaven: we must learn to speak, act, and think like Jesus. We are going to have a lifetime of choices as to whether we are going to live for this world, or for the beautiful world to come. Once we realize that this life is a launching pad for forever, it helps make more sense of what we walk through every day… -Single or married, at home or at work or school, face-to-face or online, every one of our relationships involves at least two naturally sinful people, and therefore provides plenty of opportunity for learning to treat one another as we would like to be treated, to forgive as we hope to be forgiven, to choose to believe the best about one another, and to absorb offense, just as Jesus does. -Every day we have plentiful opportunity to take what we can get, or to give generously so that other people can be blessed. -We have ample time to invest in what we think is the most important thing - this place, or the one to come. It isn’t hard to see which place we count home, if we just look at our calendars and bank balances to see where the bulk of our time and money is spent. -Every marriage is made up of one incredibly selfish husband, and one equally selfish wife. This is how so many of us can learn to squash that terrible thing within that says, "don’t tell me what to do" and "my way or the highway." Marriages thrive when we each actually stop to think how our spouse also has feelings, desires, needs and wants, and act to lay our own preferences for one another. -When we get a little used to this, along come children, who are born in such a helpless state that they literally can’t survive unless someone tends them. They cannot perfectly thrive unless both mother and father lay down their own ambitions and desires, and give preference to the child for a season. How often we sleep, what we eat, listen to, watch, and do is radically impacted by this tiny person, and we gladly lay our lives down for them. -Then, in the sunset of life, the roles are reversed, and we all have opportunity to lay our lives down for our parents when the time comes that they need us. God uses every bit of this broken world and its broken relationships to help us be fitted for His kingdom. We all have ample opportunity to purge ourselves of our selfish, cowardly, scheming, conniving, wrathful ways, and participate with the Spirit in His work of making us men and women of God. So, where are you from? It is so important to honestly ask and answer this question every now and then. Is my life growing to reflect the goodness of Jesus more and more, or am I becoming more dull and mean and jaded like this upside-down world? Are the people I spend time with, the things I spend time doing, and the things I am reading and digesting in my spirit helping me become more like Jesus? If not, some serious changes need to be made, as soon as possible. The older I get, my longing for eternity grows. It becomes easier every day to realize that I’m just not from around here, and that's because my real home is in Heaven. This week, may we make the most of every opportunity to truly love our families and neighbors, and to be more like Jesus and everything we say and do. May we not fall for the trap of feeling comfortable here. Instead, may we live like people who know exactly where we’re from and who can't wait to get there! |
Hi! I'm Mary - mother to two wonderful grown daughters, wife to an incredible husband, and loving our life in the piney woods of Texas... (read more!)
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January 2025
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