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.

The "right" question

I was just watching something that made me think I'm asking the "wrong" question. Frankly, it's not so much about the "right" or "wrong"-ness of the question, but what it shows about my thinking in general when it comes to God.

The "wrong" question is "How can I be more Christ-like?" We want to be like him. Being like him is indeed a good thing. But that's not the point. What I realized (and what is "wrong") is that it focuses on me - it's self-centered - and it also presumes I have any ability to make it happen. The point is I want to be Christ-like. I can think of a thousand reasons why, and I can see how unChristlike those reasons are! God does not ask us to be Christlike. That is NOT to be our focus, nor can we do it of our own accord. That is why it is the "wrong" question.

He made me and He has indeed set a standard of behavior, etc. But He is the one who works in me to enable me to meet that standard. And when I don't, He redeems my mess, each and every time. I am not to wallow in my failure - I'm to "wallow" in His grace. My focus is to be on HIM, not on me: on HIS grace and goodness and perfection and love and mercy and power, not on my efforts, my behavior, my successes or failures or anything else.

So rather than ask how I can be more like Him, let me rather ask how I can honor and glorify and thank Him for who He is and what He's done. Let me ask that question first, and let all others pale in comparison to knowing and loving and focusing on Him.

A Surprising Lesson

I have spent countless hours teaching my kids to do things themselves: eat, use the bathroom, wash hands, zip coats, put away toys…. As moms, that’s what we do. But even while they learn age-appropriate independence, I want them to recognize when they need help, and how and whom to ask for it. Frankly, I’m teaching them to recognize they’re still dependent.

There’s been a new and surprising lesson for me in this. From the moment I became a mom, I found myself unexpectedly needy. I’m learning that I too live a life of dependence. My needs may be physical: a ride, lifting something, or juggling responsibilities. They might be emotional: encouragement, wisdom, affection, or perspective. I too am learning when, how, and whom to ask for help. This reflects how God made us, created for relationship with Him and others. But because of my sin – my willful disobedience – I refuse the very help I need, much as my children pull away when they need me most. This creates a relational barrier because God is holy and my disobedience has consequences. Yet God is kind and patient, and loves His children. With grace and mercy, He calls me back and restores our relationship. Through faith in Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross – the ultimate consequence of my sin – He’s forever paved the way for me to return to His open arms. Learning to go to Him needy and empty-handed is humbling. But it’s by God’s design, and it’s good.

Our children are born dependent on us. Even while they learn appropriate independence, I’m ultimately teaching them to transfer their dependence from me to God. As they learn to trust and depend on me, they learn to do the same with Him. And this is equally true for me. As I learn to let go of my kids, I’m learning to trust Him to take care of us.

Note: I wrote this for the November 2011 newsletter at our church's monthly mom's ministry.

An appetite which has been whet...

I recently read the foreword to the book Peacemaking Woman. I hope to someday read the book. In the meantime, this comment has truly whet my appetite for more.

I am personally delighted with the greatest strength of this book -- it is consistently Christ-centered. Instead of calling women to work harder in their own strength, it calls them to rest more fully and confidently in the redeeming work of Christ.

A little further on in the book ( not in the foreword), I also read a quote from another book, Boundaries (a good book in its own right, from p.94). This time the quote was interesting especially to share it w/my kids. I look forward to reading (someday) how this quote fits into the book.

Things can hurt and not harm us. In fact, they can even for good for us. And things that feel good can be very harmful to us.

Motherhood

This evening, I read an article a friend shared on facebook. It is entitled "Idealized Domesticity." I took away from it a sense that we try to encourage ourselves by talking up the worth of our being at home. It is true that it is worthy. It is true that it is hard work. But honestly, I love that hard work and sacrifice are normal. What I do isn't "exceptional" - it's life. What else would I do, honestly? Even were I employed outside the home, I wouldn't be looking for kudos because I left work early to go home to care for a sick child. I think we sometimes think that as we do that which we are called to do, that which is normal, we think we're earning points with God for our service. I think this article, without doing so directly, knocks the wind completely out of those sails. It's all about grace. We do and offer nothing. God gives us everything. He gives us the good, the bad, and the mundane (and the ugly). And then he uses it all to glorify himself and shower us with love and grace. It's pretty cool, and it's pretty creative. And I am thankful to be a part of it. And it is hard. And I do try to talk myself into that which I need to do, sometimes probably in wrong ways. So it's good to be reminded in articles like this about carts and horses and which is first, and why we do what we do. It's all by grace and there's much yet to discover.