joy & pain

In August I visited my friend Val and her mother, Cheryl. This post is dedicated to them.The thing about joy is that it is compatible with pain. 

This past Thursday, the earthly army of believers lost a valiant warrior. Cheryl Mong, mother of my dear friend Val Schubert, went home to the arms of her Savior. She battled fiercely for the Kingdom, for her family, and finally against breast cancer. We surely feel the loss. I would like to dedicate this post to her. She lived a life worthy of the gospel. Her life testified to the fact that pain and joy can reside in the same tabernacle. 

I am aware that a great many in the body are hurting, suffering. I have to suppress a cringe when I hear some good-natured Christian exclaim “it was so God!” when something turned out exactly right for her. Haven’t we all had seasons where things didn’t “work out” as we had planned? And can’t we say that God’s grace was upon us during it?

I went through just such a season of unraveling after our return from Honduras.

Often I felt that my brokenness was not welcome in church. In all fairness, our pastors teach correctly on brokenness and pain. We do not hear a prosperity gospel. Nonetheless, I perceived that “there was no room in the Inn” for my suffering and pain. I watched video stories touting larger than life images of lives given away, healed from bondage, stretched and molded.  God had come through for them.

Yet I could not reconcile that with my experience of giving my life away and finding myself beaten up and mauled. Nobody wanted to see my story on the 40x40 video screen. I know other stories of heartbreak. I will share a few. A young man goes to Mexico to be a missionary and becomes so distraught with the suffering of children that he begins to starve himself to death surviving on one tomato a day. He loses his faith and to this day is an atheist. A missionary couple leaves medical practices and head to South America. They decide to return home because their children are not doing well. Thirty days later he walks away from his family and his faith. Another couple prays for years about adoption and decides God has called them to it. They invest over $25,000 to rescue a baby from an overseas orphanage. The government shuts down the adoption program for no good reason. They never see their money again or the baby God seemingly had called them to. It happens. People walk into situations/ministries that they believe God has called them into and the house falls in around them. Marriages over. Friendships destroyed. Children abused or abandoned. Ministries lost. Lives changed often appearing to be ruined.

Lest we feel like square pegs in round holes, look at Hebrews.  Our forefathers “were tortured and refused to be released, so that they might gain a better resurrection. Some faced jeers and flogging, while still others were chained and put in prison. They were stoned; they were sawed in two; they were put to death by the sword. They went about in sheepskins and goatskins, destitute, persecuted and mistreated-- the world was not worthy of them. They wandered in deserts and mountains, and in caves and holes in the ground.” Hebrews 11:35-38.

Lewis Smedes said something like this: The true test of joy’s integrity is this: is it compatible with pain? Only the heart that hurts has a right to joy. 

Sometimes pain invades our lives and takes our breath away. We don’t often talk about it at church, that life often doesn’t work out as planned - the elephant in the sanctuary. There are times when this Christian life does not look so great. In fact, life sucks. This colloquialism is biblically accurate. 

I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world. John 16:33. 

I just want to admit that often my life does not follow the four point plan I had. Whose does? Babies die. Father’s get colon cancer. Marriages fail. Children are sexually abused. Tribulation. Hell yeah, and how. When he says, “take heart!” It’s not take two verses and call me in the morning. It is this: take courage, be of good cheer; I have overcome the world. He has won! 

My cheer comes from knowing that one day - like Cheryl - I will see Him face to face. He is far, far angrier about evil than I am. He will end it one day in a lake of burning sulfur.  He will wipe every one of my tears away! He is my shield and my very great reward. 

And yet it may happen in these the most desperate trials of our human existence that beyond any rational explanation, we may feel a nail-scarred hand clutching ours. The tragedy radically alters the direction of our lives, but in our vulnerability and defenselessness we experience the power of Jesus in His present risenness. 

Apart from the risen Christ we live in a world without meaning, a world of shifting phenomena, a world of death, danger, and darkness. A world of inexplicable futility. Nothing is interconnected. Nothing is worth doing for nothing endures. It is all sound and fury with no ultimate significance.

The dark riddle of life is illuminated in Jesus; the meaning, purpose, and goal of everything that happens to us, and the way to make it all count can be learned only from the Way, the Truth, and the Life. 

Living in the awareness of the risen Christ is not a trivial pursuit for the bored and lonely or a defense mechanism enabling us to cope with the stress and sorrow of life. It is the key that unlocks the door to grasping the meaning of existence. All day and every day we are being reshaped into the image of Christ. Everything that happens to us is designed to this end.  - Brennan Manning

faith is...

Can you see the discussion? Here the questions? Should we JUMP?

Today Matt and I will board an airplane and fly across the Atlantic Ocean to Rome, Italy in celebration of our 20th wedding anniversary. All the jitters of a new bride have been at work in me these past weeks in preparation. 

I will walk in and sit down on thousands of pounds of fiberglass, metal and who knows what else. Then that large craft will climb thousands of feet in the air. Do I understand how? No! Will that lack of understanding stop me from “trusting” it enough to get on board? No!

I am not missing the analogy of this and faith. Now, I can study aerodynamics and the physics of flying and perhaps understand why the airplane stays in the sky. The analogy breaks down because I will NEVER study enough and understand how God works. 

A friend was telling me about her recent struggles yesterday. Literally the chaos of life this side of the garden is threatening to take her down. Well, really, it has taken her down. She is floundering. With tears in her eyes, she said, “I cannot find the logic.” In other words, “Why, God?!”

I get that. I have uttered those words. I have pounded my fist. I am lucky she did not hit me because I said, “You will never find logic. And you will drive yourself crazy looking.”

We spoke of how God engineers our stories so that we circle back around on ourselves and the pains we have buried are resurrected. This is our chance to bring them back to Our Father. And if we don’t believe in His healing for ourselves, we cannot with authenticity believe it for our children.

I don’t want to circumvent the process of asking WHY! These little and big why question marks are the very breadcrumbs that lead us home. We must pick up each and every breadcrumb and own the question. God already knows they reside in our souls. And they take us to surrender, home. 

Even though I don’t understand and, frankly, will never understand, why God does what He does; I will get on the plane and in faith believe that He is taking me somewhere. And that it is GOOD. And that is the strength and hope I share.

Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. Hebrews 11:1

mamas offer refuge

Photo of my high school graduation. I'm on the left, Mama in the middle. My sister Jere is on the right.

Mama. What a beautiful word. Nurture. Encourage. Invest. 

When I was little, my Mama would comfort me by letting me crawl under her arm and lie down beside her. She would say, “Come and get under my wing.” My sisters and I would run in after a bad dream or a disappointment at school and find refuge under her “wing.”

Psalm 91:4 says “He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge.” Mama may not have known it at the time, but she was teaching me about the faithfulness and protection of God.

Beginning with the womb, mothers offer refuge. A safe place. A place to be yourself. A place to learn who you are.

The story goes that my mom got her name, Joy, because of the overflowing gratitude her parents felt at the time of her birth. Mom’s older sister had died as an infant from a heart defect. The grief left my grandparents empty in heart and arms. What else could they name their next baby girl but JOY?

My mother personifies the word.

She lives with an incomparable zest for life. When she is in a room, not one inch of space is left untouched. Her quick wit and creativity splash the space with JOY. She likes to laugh and her laugh is as infectious as it is healing. I am thankful for that laughter as it was a frequent balm during my childhood.

Perhaps the most admirable quality in my mother is her courage. She faced overwhelming hardship in the deterioration of her marriage when I was 12 years old. She did not hide her hurt but her courage shone as she grieved and picked up pieces and built something beautiful. With her courage, she breathed something into me.

From my mother, I learned to value intelligence, a good book and a beautifully decorated table. She taught me to play tennis, to water ski, to snow ski and to stand up for what is right. I admire her ability to find adventure in picking a sunflower on the side of the road or to be astonished by some small bit of nature. I inherited from her a love of oceans, an eye for beauty, and compassion for the downtrodden.

In one week, I will board a plane and travel to a country I have dreamt of visiting most of my life. Italy. Mama will come and care for my children. They will be better for having spent a week with their grandmother so aptly named JOY. And so her investment continues. 

Leave a comment on how your mother invested in you.

to hope takes guts

This is Junior. Now 8. He lives with wonderful foster parents in Honduras. He is a delight. And I miss him times one hundred million.

Not everyone understands how you can spin two lassos at the same time, one of hope and one of grief. Jodi Picoult, Vanishing Acts

To hope takes guts. 

Hope deferred makes the heart sick. When we hope, we risk heart sickness. The vultures of disappointment surely have eaten more than once of our flesh. 

My family had hoped…

To remain in Honduras to love the children at Rancho Ebenezer

To build an addition to the school there

To be there until Edgar graduated high school

To hope is to join Adam and Eve again in the garden. A desire fulfilled is a tree of life. The phrase “tree of life” takes us back to Eden. The tree was in the middle of the garden. Next to it grew the other tree. The forbidden tree. We ate. We died. And we have struggled with hope ever since. 

But it also calls us to remember the end. We, as overcomers, will feast on the tree of life in the paradise of God (Rev. 2:7). The leaves of the tree will be for the healing of the nations (Rev. 22:2).

On the wall in our den in Honduras, I painted a tree. To me the tree represented life. The reality is that often our hearts are sickened here on the other side of the Garden.

Every day people make brutal choices. I know what it is like when the rubble of life overwhelms and you have to make a devastating choice.. A day came when we had to walk away. We placed our precious Honduran children back in the arms of the Shepherd who loved them before we had even seen their smiles. 

The grief that followed threatened to take my very breath away. 

My grief is not over. Grief doesn’t end because it honors the loss as precious. It evolves and blends and changes. It changes you. The things I grieve are far too precious for the grief to one day be “done.” Gradually, I am trusting God with my pain and my sons in Honduras. Over time, He is showing me that He is the Defender of the Weak. And He shows me that the Weak is mainly me. I can trust Him with the Weak – my Honduran sons – more when I can trust Him with the weak in me.

Faith has grown in my heart where I have allowed the Father to hold me in the pain. 

Today I am buoyed by hope. The path of suffering has sewn a few things into my soul. Hope. Faith. Perseverance. Strength. The end result is that I know my Savior better. I trust Him more. These things would not be there had not the VineDresser pruned me back to a nub. 

This week God has given me the chance to talk with a grieving mother. I listened as she gave voice to her pain. I shared with her my Hope and Strength birthed through suffering. When two believers can share their stories and burdens, the Holy Spirit consoles both of them.

 It is right to grieve. It is right to hope.

When a desire is fulfilled, it is the hors d’oeuvre for the feast of heaven. 

Until then, we have hope.

We must so hunger for a different tomorrow that we risk losing today to gain it. Dan Allender

Update on 05.7.2011 by gigi

Shortly after I posted this, I learned that the "wonderful foster parents" I referred to above don't live at the Ranch anymore. I do not know who Junior is living with at the moment. I am investigating this and will keep you posted. This I know and this I find comfort in: God is a Defender of the Weak. He has Junior. 

he will give strength

The Lord will give strength to His people; The Lord will bless His people with peace. Psalm 29:11

Monday kicked off a four week training marathon for me. I am transitioning from the role as a nurse at the Health Department to a Family Nurse Practitioner. Since January, I have worked two days a week as a nurse. So that training will happen quickly, I am working five days a week for these next few weeks. 

Fear has loomed before me as I entered this season. Can I do this? Will I have the energy? How will my family survive? How will I steward my energy? Will I make the right decisions? So many questions... 

In fact, I had a nightmare involving four pythons at the Cottonwood pool. I’ll spare you the details. Suffice it to say that the fourth python I encountered jumped up on me (he had feet) and licked me on the face. I awakened with adrenaline coursing through my body. No hope of sleep in sight. What, I had to ask, am I afraid of?

A friend of mine and a mighty good aesthetician, Karee Hayes, encouraged me to blog about the chaos of these weeks. She said it really captures her heart when women are honest and vulnerable about the challenges of real life. This exhortation inspired me and it kept bouncing around in my heart.

This morning early, I tiptoed out to the coffee pot. What would God say to me this morning? Where will I find Him today? Where will I spot His fingertips?

Sarah Young (Jesus Calling) reminded me: “The more demanding your day, the more help you can expect from Me. This is a training opportunity, since I designed you for deep dependence on your Shepherd-King. Challenging times wake you up and amplify your awareness of needing My help.” 

Lord, I am aware of my need. Help me. Amen.

I look at the oxen and am reminded that His yoke is easy and His burden is light.