Back again

Last week, it was just too hard to blog. I did write a few things in my private journal.

Oops... just got additional work to do. I'll write more later today.

Sunday

It was good to go to church today. That always ministers to my soul. Those who know me, know that I'm a bit of a traditionalist -- I really enjoy the hymns. Some of the new songs are good, but a lot of them are sentimental ("Draw me close to you...never let me go... feel the warmth of your embrace...") I refer to this genre as "Jesus is my boyfriend" music. I try to take these songs in the spirit in which they are meant, but, frankly, where's the beef? In my not so humble opinion, I'm not sure it's appropriate to approach the Creator of the Universe like some sort of Cosmic Teddy Bear.

I guess the analogy I can draw is between that of my earthly father to my Heavenly Father. I loved my father deeply, and I often told him that I loved Him, but I would have said "Dad, I love you" instead of "Dad, I'm in love with you." Therefore, I'm a little (actually, a lot) uncomfortable singing "Jesus, I'm so in love with You." Maybe women are more comfortable with expressing that type of sentiment, but I'm thinking that most men are as disconcerted as I am in that regard. (Could this be why our churches are not reaching as many men as women? Just a thought.)

That said, there is a place and purpose for the role of the Godhead in the ministry of comforting us in time of trouble. I'm reminded of the old hymn by Charles Wesley:
Jesus, lover of my soul, let me to Thy bosom fly,
While the nearer waters roll, while the tempest still is high.
Hide me, O my Savior, hide, till the storm of life is past;
Safe into the haven guide; O receive my soul at last.

Some might say that that is overly sentimental, but 1 Corinthians says: "Blessed be God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort; Who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble, by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God. For as the sufferings of Christ abound in us, so our consolation also aboundeth by Christ." (chapter 1, verses 3-5)

So, excuse me while I drop the deep theological premises and simply seek comfort in the arms of my Lord and Master, as a weak scared child might crawl into the lap of a loving father.


"Is he safe?"
"Safe?" said Mr. Beaver... "Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you." C.S.Lewis

Thanksgiving

The girls and I travelled out of town to be with friends this Thanksgiving. We just couldn't have Thanksgiving at our house. B would have been cooking all week long and we would have had a house full of guests.

B would always make pumpkin pie for breakfast on Thanksgiving. My older daughter made a pie for us. I really appreciate her doing that. I'm afraid it just brought up some memories, though, and I found it hard to even eat or speak. I was grateful, but I know my daughter couldn't tell it.

I read Psalm 100 (or as some call it "Old Hundredth") this morning:

Make a joyful noise unto the LORD, all ye lands.

Serve the LORD with gladness: come before his presence with singing.

Know ye that the LORD he is God: it is he that hath made us, and not we ourselves; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.

Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise: be thankful unto him, and bless his name.

For the LORD is good; his mercy is everlasting; and his truth endureth to all generations.

Giving thanks is good. When you consider the first American Thanksgiving, and all the hunger, disease, and death that our Pilgrim fathers suffered in the preceeding months, it is incredible. It reminds me that my own pain, though deep, is not unique even though I might think it is. It also reminds me that praise is possible even in these difficult times.

I'm blogging this during the half-time of the Texas-Texas A&M game. The Aggies are giving the defending national champ Longhorns fits and are ahead. Wish they would show the half-time show. I always enjoy the bands.

Two steps forward, one step back

Today has been hard. I'm doing some of the hard and deeply emotional things today. Things like filing on the insurance at work. A lot of pain for a small amount of money, not even enough to pay for B's funeral. You need a death certificate, and I'm not sure I can bring myself to even find out how to get one.

This, combined with other things (like dealing with a bill for some dental work B was supposed to have done but couldn't -- got that resolved with a couple of phone calls)... well, I just broke down and cried, harder than I have in a week.

Why does life have to be so hard?

Praising Him for His blessings

I'm reflecting back on this week versus last week. A week ago, the burden was so heavy as to be unbearable. Today, it's better. There's still pain there. There's still that ache in my heart, but it's not quite as bad. I guess that means that there's hope that I can go on.

The doctor visit was good yesterday, and I had a chance to encourage several people while I was there. My health remains good, maybe a little better, even, for those who want to know.

Dinner with my long-time friend and her children was great. We shared a lot of good memories about B, I got to impress them with my culinary skills (I can open a box of brownie mix with the best of them,) we laughed, and I felt like I was a little bit alive once again.

It'll be a long time before things feel somewhat normal again, but I'm getting better, one step at a time.

Med Center Visit Today

Off to the med center today. Nothing major going on; just a regular checkup and bloodwork which I'd already postponed three times. Plus, I'll meet B's nurse at lunch time, run over to the children's hospital to pray with a friend whose child possibly has cancer, and then have dinner with one of my closest friends.

Update: Am I getting addicted to blogging? (Probably not.) But when things change, I'm guess I'm obsessive about getting them correct. I didn't get to meet up with my friend at the children's hospital, since their appointment was already over by the time I got done with my lab work. I'll just have to catch him back home.

Saw CPCWarrior yesterday at church. She wanted to know when I'd start going out after church with her and her husband again. I'm sure the nature of some of my friendships will change now that B is no longer here, but I'm glad that that will be a constant. I'll have to see if I can get that copy of "Murder Ahoy" ordered so I can watch it with them.

B's story

At the funeral last week, somehow I was able to tell B's story. It was something that I strongly felt had to be done, and there wasn't anyone else who could do it. This is essentially the text of what I said at her memorial service:

B spent many summers working at a ministry in Colorado. From time to time, the founder’s son would come to her and ask her to tell her story. B would rather to talk to 200 people one at a time than to 200 people at one time, so she would usually be a little reluctant, but he would tell her: “B, this is a rough crowd; they need to hear your story.” So, B would “tell her story” and lives would be changed. I’m going to tell you her story.

B had a hard childhood. Her family was split up when she was five years old, with the consequent hardship, emotional, financial, and otherwise. The carefree childhood most of us had was unknown to her. B didn’t remember ever going to church, and the only spiritual education she could recall was attending Vacation Bible School one summer where she learned Psalm 23.

At 16, B had to leave home and she started supporting herself. B rarely shared the details with anyone, but I will tell you that she went through things that no woman should ever have to experience, let alone a 16, 17, or 18 year-old girl.

About the time she turned 20, B came to a crisis point in her life, and she started thinking out that one scripture passage she had learned. She couldn’t quite recall how it ended, so somehow she obtained a dime store Bible so she could read it. She went on to read the New Testament, but it really didn’t sink in.

One evening she came home, and wanted to watch TV, but there was only one channel in their small town, and Billy Graham had preempted M*A*S*H. B was not happy about that at all, but then something caught her attention. She listened, and at the end, when Dr. Graham said people could pray at home, she did. She said “God, if You’re real like You said in ‘that book’, then I need it, so show me.”

Well, God did show B. She turned her life over to Him, and He changed her. B never did anything half-way, and so she dove right into serving God. Along the way, there were a few good mentors who helped her mature.

For a long time B was burdened by her past. She once told me that she “never thought a good man would want her.” She couldn’t quite figure out just exactly what was wrong with me. She had a lot to learn about the grace of God.

For many years, B worked hard at serving, and she was always finding ways to help people here and there. But a little over fifteen years ago, something clicked. She finally realized that she didn’t have to work to please God; that as His child she DID please God. And at that point, her ministry flourished. Instead of struggling at ministering to a few people, she began to very naturally and joyfully minister to hundreds.

B would tell you first, that in God there is forgiveness from sin, no matter what you’ve done. But also, for those of us who have already found that forgiveness, there is tremendous freedom. Serving God should be a joy, and not a chore.