Grief and grace

I just read an article (a good one at that, on autism), that made me think of how grateful I am for my own "village".  The author included a paragraph about her emotions and reaction to her son's diagnosis, that made me stop and think and wish to post here, something I haven't had much opportunity to do lately, but this merited the time and gave good material for me to ponder, and share.  To begin, here is the paragraph about which I am writing.

It might have been that night, or some other night, that I got down on my knees beside my beautiful sleeping son and wept. I also prayed. It’s embarrassing for me, aggressive atheist that I am, to acknowledge it now. I probably begged that it not be true. Or maybe I asked for a cure, or for strength. Or just help. I don’t believe those prayers were answered by a deity, but the image of me on my knees, praying to no one of my acquaintance, is an evocative memory of how alone we were back then: me, my husband and my son with only Dustin Hoffman for guidance. Maybe I was putting in a call to the village that I did not yet know existed.

Indeed, when things do not go as planned, when our children suffer, when circumstances are out of our control, when the "worst" happens, when a loved one - especially a child - is diagnosed with a disease or condition or disorder or the like, especially one which has no "cure", we do indeed feel alone.  I know this loneliness, oh yes, indeed I do.  It's agonizing.  And we are all - even the atheist - reduced to our knees.  We are helpless.  Really, indeed, who do we think we are?  

I grieve for this woman and her situation.  I grieve for my own.  I grieve for our frailty and our helplessness.  I do not judge her or anyone else.  I am and have been so like her.  And I am thankful "for the village".  I love my village.  I am so glad she has a village.  Indeed we are not alone. So why my post?  What "more" needs to be said? 

I must post of God and His grace, especially to me.  He is so amazing to not leave us alone.  What strikes me here is that even though she does not recognize His power, or even His answer to her prayers, He has still answered.  She is blind to the very one who gives her life, to the one who created this child in His own image, autism and all.  Mine too (only diabetes, migraines and the like, not autism).  And she is free to be blind, to see the village without seeing the one who gave her this village.  I love this God with all my heart, and I grieve that she does not see Him.  Matthew 5:45 speaks clearly of the Father (God) who "causes His sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous."   May He get the glory for it all - for the circumstances that (sometimes) drive us to our knees, even when we don't believe He exists or can answer even if He does exist, or whatever the permutation of unbelief might be.  We are still reduced to begging and weeping because we are so incredibly needy.  And may He be just and glorified when He doesn't save all those who've rejected Him, despite His incredible grace and provision.  And may we who see and know Him, be thankful that He for no reason at all - at least none we know of - saved us, though we were too were once just like her.  Blind.  Even agressively atheists.  Me, I was plugging my ears with my fingers, closing my eyes, and singing  "la la la la la  - I can't hear you!  I don't see you!  You're not there! - la la la la la...." loudly at the top of my lungs and ... well... He figuratively whopped me upside the head, pried my eyes open, pulled my hands out of my ears and made me see and hear Him.  Stubborn girl I am.  I never would have stopped on my own. I too would have denied Him.  

Thank you, dear God who answers in the form of the village and who reminds me daily of my desperate need for you, of how blind I still am often without your grace and help, and how wonderful you are.  I love the village, for it helps me see you in all your glory.  The village is your hands and a tool in my life that you wield to accomplish your work.  And thank you to the author of this article for being part of my world-wide internet village and part of how God's working in me.

Thankfulness

I think I see a need in myself to deliberately choose to be thankful. The Bible has much to say on the subject (see this compilation of verses I found online, including ones that appear to have nothing to with thankfulness!).

One that has always struck me is Colossians 3:15 And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful.

I think I sometimes confuse my being thankful with things going well - that is, that thankfulness is based somehow on my circumstances. When I reflect on this verse, and others like it, I find that thankfulness is something I'm to do - and be - regardless of my circumstances. It's a choice. And interestingly, the ability to be thankful in all circumstances is rooted in what I believe about God. Is He good? Is He trustworthy? Am I really "confident .... that He who began a good work in [me] will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus?" (Philippians 1:6) Do I trust Him? Is He sovereign, that is, is He really in control of my circumstances, and all that happens in this world?

I began this post months ago (end of March) and in the midst of seemingly endless low-grade illness across the entire family.  As I get back to it now, in the midst of a hundred and one activities (baseball, school ending, summer decisions, even fall decisions, yardwork and getting the garden in - and yes, more illness), it resonates just as much.  I think that's because it really is pertinent to my every day.  What do I believe?  And the answer to that determines my attitude and perspective on who I am and about every thing I do.

I do believe that God is good and that all that happens and all that I'm involved in has purpose - to glorify him.  Even as he molds and makes me into his image, it's for his glory.  Even when I fail, it's to his glory (it shows who he is in contrast to who I am - and boy does he look good!).  When he picks me up and dusts me off, he is glorified.  Amazing isn't it?  And boy do I need him (I fall so much!).   It's about the grace of a loving Father for His cherished child.  I like being cherished, and I like that He's working in me and won't give up.  Thankful I am indeed.  Now back to all those to-dos....   :-)

Preserving a Husband (A quote - not mine - but I loved it)

Preserving a Husband
Author Unknown

First, use care in selection. Not too young, but tender and with potential for growth. Choose one that will last a lifetime. Like fine wine, he should improve with age. Do not put in hot water. This will remove the sweetness and destroys the natural flavor.

Prepare as follows:

• Saturate with love and compassion.
• Sprinkle with a generous amount of laughter and good humor.
• Spice with patience.
• Wrap well in a mantle of charity.

Preserve over a good fire of steady devotion.
Serve with peaches and cream.

The poorest varieties may be improved by this process and kept indefinitely in any climate.