In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus made the bold, counter-intuitive claim, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” Matthew 5:4. In the very next verse, Jesus makes a claim that is perhaps even more counter-intuitive. He says, “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.” Matthew 5:5.
“Meekness” is defined by Webster’s College Dictionary as, “humbly patient or docile, as under provocation from others.” Jesus himself, being under the direction of His Father, is the personification of meekness. Rather than fighting for what He “deserved,” Jesus went to the cross. Jesus said to the father, “Your Will be done.” Matthew 26.39.
I define meekness as the ability to patiently and humbly endure all circumstances in the firm conviction that God is sovereign and is working all things together for our good. In a recent article in Christianity Today, Carolyn Arends writes about how to be meek. She says, “It isn’t the experience of being misunderstood (or suffering or poverty) itself that will undue us, but rather the sense that we are enduring hardship to no good end. …We discover there is no wasted effort or pain, because there is nothing that God cannot redeem.” Christianity Today, Feb. 2010, Wrestling with Angels, p. 56.
To be meek means that we live every moment as though God determines the value of each life circumstance, not me. If I determine the value of both my life, generally, and each and every life circumstance, then not every moment will be beneficial towards reaching our self-determined goals. To the extent that I kick and scream when things don’t go my way, or a stab someone in the back “to get ahead,” or lay awake at night scheming plans of revenge to someone who has wronged me, I live a life of self-determination. Self-determination is really faithlessness. If we don’t believe that God will redeem all of life’s trials, then we will anxiously guard every passing moment and life opportunity, because these moments will define our purpose in life. To the extent that we fail in claiming victory in each passing moment of life (as defined by our own, self-determined goals), then we will either need to consider ourselves as failures or re-define our meaning.
In the 15th chapter of 1 Corinthians, Paul describes in great detail our promise, through Christ, of the resurrection of the dead—both our own glorified bodies and the glorified bodies of the ones we love. Because of the promise of the resurrection, we have victory over sin, death and the Devil. Paul concludes this great chapter with an application for how our future resurrection impacts today’s trials. He ways, “Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain.” 1 Corinthians 15:58.
But fighting the fight of faith is difficult work. It is with great labor that we must strive to look beyond our seen and transient circumstances to trust in what is unseen and eternal. 2 Corinthians 4:18. I am living in Christ-like meekness if I trust in God’s plan for Micah’s life and legacy. I am meek if I trust that God accomplished His purpose for Micah in only 9 months. That God wasn’t asleep at the switch; that the pea in Micah’s lungs did not catch him by surprise. I am meek if I don’t live in bitterness towards God, towards others, or towards life in general. To be meek means that God somehow wants to use my suffering and grieving to develop Christ-likeness.
If Jesus went meekly to the cross, then surely I can go meekly to my son’s grave and be grateful for God’s blessing to us in Micah. I want to have more and more of the meekness of Christ, to rest in God’s purposes for my life, and to believe that no life opportunity is wasted. I want to have less and less of the attitude of defining life circumstances on my own. To the extent that I am meek, it is only because God has provoked my heart towards Him; With God’s help, I can rest in Christ’s promise from the Sermon on the Mount that, in Him, Micah and I will inherit the earth, together, forever.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Monday, April 12, 2010
A Thousand Deaths
Living after losing one's son is like dying again and again; it is like dying a thousand deaths daily.
I take a phone call at work, and for the next half hour, my mind is focused on my job. I’m thinking about the issues faced by my client, how to achieve a certain result. For the next half hour, I’m lost in a world insulated from the real one. But at the end of the telephone call, I look at a picture of Micah on my desk, and it all comes back to me again.
The memories of Micah falling out of the high chair. Going to the hospital. Micah going blue. Heather screaming. The wail of the sirens. Holding him in my arms as he died. The wake, the burial the funeral. And now visiting the gravesite. I have to grapple on a daily basis, again and again, that my little son is gone from us, and there is nothing that I can do about it.
A few weeks after Micah died last summer, I played with my softball team in our annual state softball tournament. Softball and baseball are both characterized by short moments of intense concentration (when the pitch is thrown), followed by longer moments of inactivity (the time in between pitches). I remember how excruciating those moments of inactivity were for me. In between each pitch, the excruciating realities would come to mind again and again, as if they were coming to mind for the very first time. At the end of that long day of softball, I remember how utterly spent I was emotionally.
This rhythm of life is emotionally exhausting. Mundane matters of life provide momentary respites. But we’ve found that the longer the respite, the greater the pain of re-engaging in the sorrow of our realities. Respites are necessary to function, but they sometimes make re-engaging in the realities of our grief even more difficult.
God has made us with such a great capacity for love. He has also given us great intellectual capacity, to direct a stream of consciousness toward (or against) a particular subject. It is possible to insulate oneself from painful realities by, among other “insulators,” consciously focusing one’s attention on anything (or everything) but the reality of the pain. Because of the manner in which God gave us emotional and intellectual abilities, it is possible to “stuff” or “avoid” grief for a long time. Humans have the capacity to successfully avoid grieving through using their mind to overcome the emotions. Grief counselors have said that some people are able to use their minds insulate themselves from grief for the rest of their earthly lives.
Some people have asked when we will “get over” Micah’s death. Being nearly 9 months removed from his death, I’ve come to realize that we will never, ever “get over” Micah’s death. Micah, and his unexpected death, will always be with us, and while our grief will get easier because we will learn to manage it, it will always be there.
We’ve also realized that we don’t want to “get over it.” We don’t want to ever forget how much our little boy loved us. How much he enjoyed cuddling with his mommy; spending time in the swing pushed by daddy. How much he loved watching his dog Sadie. We don’t want to forget anything about our little boy. All of these sweet memories we have of our son, this God-given treasure in our lives.
This morning, I laid awake in bed thinking about Micah. A scene came into my mind which is emblematic of my struggles. In that scene, I am driving my car at dusk, heading east. In my rear view mirror I see my little boy sitting on the side of the road. As my car takes me further and further away, it is increasingly difficult to see the features of his face, both because of the growing darkness and the increasing distance between us. For whatever reason, I am powerless to turn the car around and go to my little boy. But what really bothers me is the increasing difficulty to see his face.
I’ve learned to welcome the grief that comes each day, even if it means re-living all of the events of his death a thousand times a day. This is preferable over the alternatives. To push Micah out of our lives (through any means) would be to dishonor not only Micah himself, but the God who chose to bless us with this little guy for nearly 9 months. To push Micah out of our conscious thoughts and emotions would be to attempt (unsuccessfully) to undo the purposes that God has and will accomplish through Micah’s short life. I believe we best honor God’s purposes for Micah’s life and death, and Micah himself, by allowing ourselves to feel the full weight of the grief, again and again.
I take a phone call at work, and for the next half hour, my mind is focused on my job. I’m thinking about the issues faced by my client, how to achieve a certain result. For the next half hour, I’m lost in a world insulated from the real one. But at the end of the telephone call, I look at a picture of Micah on my desk, and it all comes back to me again.
The memories of Micah falling out of the high chair. Going to the hospital. Micah going blue. Heather screaming. The wail of the sirens. Holding him in my arms as he died. The wake, the burial the funeral. And now visiting the gravesite. I have to grapple on a daily basis, again and again, that my little son is gone from us, and there is nothing that I can do about it.
A few weeks after Micah died last summer, I played with my softball team in our annual state softball tournament. Softball and baseball are both characterized by short moments of intense concentration (when the pitch is thrown), followed by longer moments of inactivity (the time in between pitches). I remember how excruciating those moments of inactivity were for me. In between each pitch, the excruciating realities would come to mind again and again, as if they were coming to mind for the very first time. At the end of that long day of softball, I remember how utterly spent I was emotionally.
This rhythm of life is emotionally exhausting. Mundane matters of life provide momentary respites. But we’ve found that the longer the respite, the greater the pain of re-engaging in the sorrow of our realities. Respites are necessary to function, but they sometimes make re-engaging in the realities of our grief even more difficult.
God has made us with such a great capacity for love. He has also given us great intellectual capacity, to direct a stream of consciousness toward (or against) a particular subject. It is possible to insulate oneself from painful realities by, among other “insulators,” consciously focusing one’s attention on anything (or everything) but the reality of the pain. Because of the manner in which God gave us emotional and intellectual abilities, it is possible to “stuff” or “avoid” grief for a long time. Humans have the capacity to successfully avoid grieving through using their mind to overcome the emotions. Grief counselors have said that some people are able to use their minds insulate themselves from grief for the rest of their earthly lives.
Some people have asked when we will “get over” Micah’s death. Being nearly 9 months removed from his death, I’ve come to realize that we will never, ever “get over” Micah’s death. Micah, and his unexpected death, will always be with us, and while our grief will get easier because we will learn to manage it, it will always be there.
We’ve also realized that we don’t want to “get over it.” We don’t want to ever forget how much our little boy loved us. How much he enjoyed cuddling with his mommy; spending time in the swing pushed by daddy. How much he loved watching his dog Sadie. We don’t want to forget anything about our little boy. All of these sweet memories we have of our son, this God-given treasure in our lives.
This morning, I laid awake in bed thinking about Micah. A scene came into my mind which is emblematic of my struggles. In that scene, I am driving my car at dusk, heading east. In my rear view mirror I see my little boy sitting on the side of the road. As my car takes me further and further away, it is increasingly difficult to see the features of his face, both because of the growing darkness and the increasing distance between us. For whatever reason, I am powerless to turn the car around and go to my little boy. But what really bothers me is the increasing difficulty to see his face.
I’ve learned to welcome the grief that comes each day, even if it means re-living all of the events of his death a thousand times a day. This is preferable over the alternatives. To push Micah out of our lives (through any means) would be to dishonor not only Micah himself, but the God who chose to bless us with this little guy for nearly 9 months. To push Micah out of our conscious thoughts and emotions would be to attempt (unsuccessfully) to undo the purposes that God has and will accomplish through Micah’s short life. I believe we best honor God’s purposes for Micah’s life and death, and Micah himself, by allowing ourselves to feel the full weight of the grief, again and again.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Our Suffering Savior
On the night that Jesus was arrested, Jesus prayed alone in the Garden of Gethsemane. Jesus had to have known at least some of what was in store for Him in the next 24 hours. Greatly distressed, He asked the Father that “this cup” be taken from Him. Matthew 26:39.
Over the next day, our savior was subjected to unbearable physical suffering. Scourging. Beating. Mockery and ridicule. A crown of thorns. Nails in his hands and feet. Nakedness to the noon day heat. Thirst. Suffucation. Excruciating death.
In addition to that physical torture, we believe that Jesus also experienced the spiritual torture of separation from His father. How else can one explain those stirring words uttered shortly before He died, “Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani” which means, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Matthew 27:45-46.
Even though Jesus had some sense of what he was about to face, He still felt abandoned by God. "Why, God, have you abandoned me." The sum of his physical emotional and spiritual suffering was so great that he could not help but cry out, in that moment, why, God, have you abandoned me?
Through this past Good Friday and then Easter, Heather and I have been reminded that we do not worship a Savior who is unable to unable to sympathize with our sufferings. “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet was without sin.” Hebrews 4:15.
As Jesus did on the cross, we have CRIED OUT to God in our pain. Jesus' exclamation on the cross demonstrates that the experience of suffering is greater than the mere knowledge or anticipation of suffering. Before Micah died, I could have given you an intellectual answer for why God allows people to suffer, but I could not show you a life (my life) scarred by suffering. Before Micah died, we didn't have a sense for what suffering really is, how it works in your heart, nor how God shows Himself strong through significant suffering. Before Micah died, did we really know God like we do now?
Nicholas Wolterstorff says, “God is not only the God of the sufferers but the God who suffers. The pain and fallenness of humanity have entered into his heart. Through the prism of my tears I have seen a suffering God. It is said of God that no one can behold his face and live. I always thought this meant that no one could see his splender and live. A friend said perhaps it meant that no one could see his sorrow and live. Or perhaps his sorrow is splendor. And great mystery: to redeem our brokenness and lovelessness the God who suffers with us did not strike some mighty blow of power but sent his beloved son to suffer like us, through his suffering to redeem us from suffering and evil. Instead of explaining our suffering God shares it.” N. Wolterstorff, Lament for a Son, P. 81 (emphasis added).
Praise Be to God! For He is not merely the God of the strong, but also the God of those who have lost and those who cry out to God in pain. This is the God I worship.
Over the next day, our savior was subjected to unbearable physical suffering. Scourging. Beating. Mockery and ridicule. A crown of thorns. Nails in his hands and feet. Nakedness to the noon day heat. Thirst. Suffucation. Excruciating death.
In addition to that physical torture, we believe that Jesus also experienced the spiritual torture of separation from His father. How else can one explain those stirring words uttered shortly before He died, “Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani” which means, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Matthew 27:45-46.
Even though Jesus had some sense of what he was about to face, He still felt abandoned by God. "Why, God, have you abandoned me." The sum of his physical emotional and spiritual suffering was so great that he could not help but cry out, in that moment, why, God, have you abandoned me?
Through this past Good Friday and then Easter, Heather and I have been reminded that we do not worship a Savior who is unable to unable to sympathize with our sufferings. “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet was without sin.” Hebrews 4:15.
As Jesus did on the cross, we have CRIED OUT to God in our pain. Jesus' exclamation on the cross demonstrates that the experience of suffering is greater than the mere knowledge or anticipation of suffering. Before Micah died, I could have given you an intellectual answer for why God allows people to suffer, but I could not show you a life (my life) scarred by suffering. Before Micah died, we didn't have a sense for what suffering really is, how it works in your heart, nor how God shows Himself strong through significant suffering. Before Micah died, did we really know God like we do now?
Nicholas Wolterstorff says, “God is not only the God of the sufferers but the God who suffers. The pain and fallenness of humanity have entered into his heart. Through the prism of my tears I have seen a suffering God. It is said of God that no one can behold his face and live. I always thought this meant that no one could see his splender and live. A friend said perhaps it meant that no one could see his sorrow and live. Or perhaps his sorrow is splendor. And great mystery: to redeem our brokenness and lovelessness the God who suffers with us did not strike some mighty blow of power but sent his beloved son to suffer like us, through his suffering to redeem us from suffering and evil. Instead of explaining our suffering God shares it.” N. Wolterstorff, Lament for a Son, P. 81 (emphasis added).
Praise Be to God! For He is not merely the God of the strong, but also the God of those who have lost and those who cry out to God in pain. This is the God I worship.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Fighting Anger with Faith
“Cory, you need to stop being angry with God.” These were the words of advice that a mentor gave me a few months ago. Over the past few months, I’ve become increasingly convinced that my mentor was right. I’ve been angry with God. I’ve begun to see how living in this anger impacts my life. And I’ve seen how crucial it is that we live not by emotions or our circumstances but by my faith in Jesus Christ.
In the movie, “Gran Torino,” Clint Eastwood plays a Korean War veteran who is facing life after the death of his wife. Following his wife’s death, Eastwood’s character is irritable, argumentative, blasphemous, and self-righteous. He is angry because the world is not as he thinks it should be. His wife is gone. No one can get anything right: his children and grandchildren are dishonoring; his neighborhood has become run down (or at least it has in his mind); even the priest who comforted his dying wife through her last days doesn’t have enough life experience (in his own mind) to provide him with any encouragement or counsel.
In watching this film, I was struck by how much of myself I saw in Eastwood’s character. While I haven’t acted out my anger in the same ways portrayed by Eastwood’s character, I can see in the character’s actions the intentions of my own angry heart. I’ve become angry with family and friends. Heather and I have battled self-pity since Micah’s death. Even when I know that people mean well, I have not exercised the patience necessary to give them the benefit of the doubt. Like the Eastwood character, I’ve become self-righteous and indignant about the shortcomings of others.
But for the work of the Holy Spirit in my life, I would continue in a spiral of anger and self-pity. In a discipleship journal for Campus Crusade for Christ, Ron and Della Proctor say, “Faith is believing that the Bible is true regardless of circumstances, emotions or cultural trends.” Having the gift of faith in Christ truly has significant practial implications to one's grief.
In 1 Thessalonians 5:18 Paul says, “Give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” Notice what the verse does NOT say. Paul does not say “Give thanks FOR all circumstances.” He says “give thanks IN all circumstances.” We can only give thanks if the reason for our thanksgiving is completely independent from our circumstances. We are not called to thank God that Micah died; we are called, however, to thank God that he is somewhere moving, even through this terrible set of circumstances. We are called to give thanks to a sovereign God.
Among other things, this means that we must remove any self-pity from our lives. Self-pity is sinful because it shows that we love circumstances over our relationship with God. It also means that we feel that we “deserve” to find ourselves in certain circumstances, such as having children, and that God is not giving us what is “rightfully” ours. Instead, we should live lives of thanksgiving because of how God is using our circumstances to make us more like Him.
This also means that we must continually look to God, for God's help is always there, "an ever present help in times of trouble" (Psalm 46:1). Hebrews 4:12 says that the Word is “sharper than any doubled-edged sword…it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.” How a person responds to deep grief demonstrates what is truly going on in their heart—that is, what a person truly values. To my dismay, I’ve found that my responses of anger and self-pity have shown how much I have valued my family, my job and my circumstances even over my relationship with God. The double-edged sword has cut through my "life motives"--and I have found that my own life motives are far too tied up in my own circumstances. If who I am is defined by my circumstances, then in many instances life would not be worth living.
But thanks be to God, for he has shown us a way, in Jesus Christ, both in life and at death. In Romans 15, Paul says, “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” Romans 15:13. Praise be to God, for through the Holy Spirit's power he has made a way out of anger and self-pity.
In the movie, “Gran Torino,” Clint Eastwood plays a Korean War veteran who is facing life after the death of his wife. Following his wife’s death, Eastwood’s character is irritable, argumentative, blasphemous, and self-righteous. He is angry because the world is not as he thinks it should be. His wife is gone. No one can get anything right: his children and grandchildren are dishonoring; his neighborhood has become run down (or at least it has in his mind); even the priest who comforted his dying wife through her last days doesn’t have enough life experience (in his own mind) to provide him with any encouragement or counsel.
In watching this film, I was struck by how much of myself I saw in Eastwood’s character. While I haven’t acted out my anger in the same ways portrayed by Eastwood’s character, I can see in the character’s actions the intentions of my own angry heart. I’ve become angry with family and friends. Heather and I have battled self-pity since Micah’s death. Even when I know that people mean well, I have not exercised the patience necessary to give them the benefit of the doubt. Like the Eastwood character, I’ve become self-righteous and indignant about the shortcomings of others.
But for the work of the Holy Spirit in my life, I would continue in a spiral of anger and self-pity. In a discipleship journal for Campus Crusade for Christ, Ron and Della Proctor say, “Faith is believing that the Bible is true regardless of circumstances, emotions or cultural trends.” Having the gift of faith in Christ truly has significant practial implications to one's grief.
In 1 Thessalonians 5:18 Paul says, “Give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” Notice what the verse does NOT say. Paul does not say “Give thanks FOR all circumstances.” He says “give thanks IN all circumstances.” We can only give thanks if the reason for our thanksgiving is completely independent from our circumstances. We are not called to thank God that Micah died; we are called, however, to thank God that he is somewhere moving, even through this terrible set of circumstances. We are called to give thanks to a sovereign God.
Among other things, this means that we must remove any self-pity from our lives. Self-pity is sinful because it shows that we love circumstances over our relationship with God. It also means that we feel that we “deserve” to find ourselves in certain circumstances, such as having children, and that God is not giving us what is “rightfully” ours. Instead, we should live lives of thanksgiving because of how God is using our circumstances to make us more like Him.
This also means that we must continually look to God, for God's help is always there, "an ever present help in times of trouble" (Psalm 46:1). Hebrews 4:12 says that the Word is “sharper than any doubled-edged sword…it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.” How a person responds to deep grief demonstrates what is truly going on in their heart—that is, what a person truly values. To my dismay, I’ve found that my responses of anger and self-pity have shown how much I have valued my family, my job and my circumstances even over my relationship with God. The double-edged sword has cut through my "life motives"--and I have found that my own life motives are far too tied up in my own circumstances. If who I am is defined by my circumstances, then in many instances life would not be worth living.
But thanks be to God, for he has shown us a way, in Jesus Christ, both in life and at death. In Romans 15, Paul says, “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” Romans 15:13. Praise be to God, for through the Holy Spirit's power he has made a way out of anger and self-pity.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Mystery v. Absurdity
In his book, "God in the Dark," Os Guiness describes what it means to trust in God through pain.
“Christians do not say, 'I do not understand you at all, but I trust you anyway.' Rather we say, 'I do not understand you in this situation, but I understand why I trust you anyway. Therefore I can trust that you understand even though I don’t.'
If we do not know why we trust God in the beginning, then we will always need to know exactly what God is doing in order to trust him. Failing to grasp that, we may not be able to continue trusting him, for anything we do not understand may count decisively against what we are able to trust.
If, on the other hand, we do know why we trust God, we will be able to trust him in situations where we do not understand what he is doing. It may be mystery to us, but mystery is only inscrutable; what would be insufferable is absurdity. Faith does not know why in terms of the immediate, but it knows why it trusts God who knows why in terms of the ultimate.” Os Guinness, God in the Dark.
Micah's death is a mystery, but not an absurity. We must suffer through our remaining lifetime not having the answer as to why. But we can trust God with the fact that there is a reason why He called Micah home so soon. Micah did not die without purpose; he did not die in absurdity.
While we currently don't know why God allowed Micah to die, we trust God because He has shown us that He is worthy of our trust. "And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who have been called according to his purpose." Romans 8:28. Time and again in our own lives, we can look back and see how God's hand was in the midst of our trials. Time and again in scripture, we see how God demonstrated his faithfulness to those who loved him.
Among the many stories of redemption in the book of Genesis is the story of Joseph. As a boy, Joseph was sold into slavery by his brothers, who were jealous of the special attention that Joseph's father paid to him. After some significant "ups and downs" in his life, Joseph eventually became the most powerful leader in the nation of Egpypt outside of the Pharaoh himself. Many years later, when Joseph's brothers came to Egypt looking for food in the midst of a famine in their own land, Joseph was able to save his brothers. As Joseph told his brothers in Egypt, "You meant [selling me into slavery] for evil, but God meant it for good.
In this regard, the Cross of Christ is the ultimate display of God accomplishing a great ultimate objective through great suffering. No one can accuse God of handing out "the bitter pill" to others without swallowing the same bitter pill himself. In the cross, we see that Jesus, the son, and God, the Father, taste the bitter pill of death and separation. While I didn't allow my son to die, God the Father did allow His Son to die. Jesus showed us that no one can go lower than God Himself did when he sent his own son to die on the cross. As Guiness stated, "None of us can sink so low that God has not gone lower still."
God accomplished salvation through the suffering and death of his Son on the cross. His great ulimate objective was accomplished. While His purposes for Micah are still a mystery to me, we grieve the death of our son in the hope that God's purposes were in fact accomplished through Micah's little life.
“Christians do not say, 'I do not understand you at all, but I trust you anyway.' Rather we say, 'I do not understand you in this situation, but I understand why I trust you anyway. Therefore I can trust that you understand even though I don’t.'
If we do not know why we trust God in the beginning, then we will always need to know exactly what God is doing in order to trust him. Failing to grasp that, we may not be able to continue trusting him, for anything we do not understand may count decisively against what we are able to trust.
If, on the other hand, we do know why we trust God, we will be able to trust him in situations where we do not understand what he is doing. It may be mystery to us, but mystery is only inscrutable; what would be insufferable is absurdity. Faith does not know why in terms of the immediate, but it knows why it trusts God who knows why in terms of the ultimate.” Os Guinness, God in the Dark.
Micah's death is a mystery, but not an absurity. We must suffer through our remaining lifetime not having the answer as to why. But we can trust God with the fact that there is a reason why He called Micah home so soon. Micah did not die without purpose; he did not die in absurdity.
While we currently don't know why God allowed Micah to die, we trust God because He has shown us that He is worthy of our trust. "And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who have been called according to his purpose." Romans 8:28. Time and again in our own lives, we can look back and see how God's hand was in the midst of our trials. Time and again in scripture, we see how God demonstrated his faithfulness to those who loved him.
Among the many stories of redemption in the book of Genesis is the story of Joseph. As a boy, Joseph was sold into slavery by his brothers, who were jealous of the special attention that Joseph's father paid to him. After some significant "ups and downs" in his life, Joseph eventually became the most powerful leader in the nation of Egpypt outside of the Pharaoh himself. Many years later, when Joseph's brothers came to Egypt looking for food in the midst of a famine in their own land, Joseph was able to save his brothers. As Joseph told his brothers in Egypt, "You meant [selling me into slavery] for evil, but God meant it for good.
In this regard, the Cross of Christ is the ultimate display of God accomplishing a great ultimate objective through great suffering. No one can accuse God of handing out "the bitter pill" to others without swallowing the same bitter pill himself. In the cross, we see that Jesus, the son, and God, the Father, taste the bitter pill of death and separation. While I didn't allow my son to die, God the Father did allow His Son to die. Jesus showed us that no one can go lower than God Himself did when he sent his own son to die on the cross. As Guiness stated, "None of us can sink so low that God has not gone lower still."
God accomplished salvation through the suffering and death of his Son on the cross. His great ulimate objective was accomplished. While His purposes for Micah are still a mystery to me, we grieve the death of our son in the hope that God's purposes were in fact accomplished through Micah's little life.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Jesus, Bless Micah
Soon after Micah was born, Heather’s mom purchased a little ceramic cross, which we hung up in Micah’s room. The little cross reads, “Jesus, bless this little boy and keep him always in your care.”
During the first few months following Micah’s death, seeing and reading the cross occasioned a few moments of great anguish in my heart. I asked God, Was Micah really in your care? In those last moments when he could not breathe, were you, God, really caring for him? Were you, God, really blessing this little boy when his breath was stopped after so little time with his parents? Was it a blessing, God, to take him away from parents who loved him more than their own lives?
A well-meaning individual recently commented on one of my recent blog posts by leaving a poem about death and grieving. The poem intends to convey the notion that a deceased loved one, or at least our memories of them, lives on through our own sensory experiences. The poem states, in part, “I did not die…I am the sunlight on ripened grains..I am the autumn rain.” With respect, I must say that this is precisely what I DON’T take comfort in. All of my sensory experiences that I experience only bring more pain because of the fact that I am not experiencing life with Micah. If this world is all there is, there is absolutely no redeeming value to trying to remember our deceased in a positive manner because the permanency to the end of such a short-lived existence would be too great a burden for anyone to bear.
In these times of heartache, our only source for comfort is our faith in our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, who has promised to resurrect Micah. The author of Hebrews tells us, “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. ” Hebrews 11:1. Rather than focus on what we see (the “sunlight on the ripened grain”) or hear (“the autumn rain), we trust in a loving and sovereign God who is working in our lives in ways that we cannot see, hear or touch. By the gift of faith, Heather and I have been able to rest the promise that God is blessing us even though we can’t necessarily see or taste or touch God’s goodness to us and to Micah.
Pastor Kenny Stokes has reminded me that many of the Biblical saints had very little understanding, during times of immense trial, of how God would use their faith for His kingdom purposes. For example, when Stephen was stoned, how could he have known that his stoning would help lead to the spread of the church? Indeed, the author of Hebrews summarizes how certain individuals in the Old Testament lived by faith despite the fact that they did not see the promises of God come to fruition during their earthly lifetimes. “These all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city.” Hebrews 11:13-16.
The Apostle Paul made no secret of the fact that, for those of us who do live by faith, our sufferings will bear no comparison to the glory at the resurrection. “…This slight momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal. 2 Corinthians 4:17-18. C.S. Lewis, in comparing earthly suffering to heavenly glory, stated “They say of some temporal suffering, “No future bliss can make up for it,” not knowing that Heaven, once attained, will work backwards and turn even that agony into a glory.” C.S. Lewis, Great Divorce, 64.
Rather than this little ceramic cross being the source of anguish, this little cross has become a reminder of God’s promises for us and for Micah. While we don’t know why He allowed this to happen, we trust that God is somehow blessing Micah and blessing us through the otherwise terrible events of the last week of July in 2009. I pray that those of us who call on the name of Christ resolve to live in the hope of the resurrection (“what is unseen”) rather than merely on what is "seen."
During the first few months following Micah’s death, seeing and reading the cross occasioned a few moments of great anguish in my heart. I asked God, Was Micah really in your care? In those last moments when he could not breathe, were you, God, really caring for him? Were you, God, really blessing this little boy when his breath was stopped after so little time with his parents? Was it a blessing, God, to take him away from parents who loved him more than their own lives?
A well-meaning individual recently commented on one of my recent blog posts by leaving a poem about death and grieving. The poem intends to convey the notion that a deceased loved one, or at least our memories of them, lives on through our own sensory experiences. The poem states, in part, “I did not die…I am the sunlight on ripened grains..I am the autumn rain.” With respect, I must say that this is precisely what I DON’T take comfort in. All of my sensory experiences that I experience only bring more pain because of the fact that I am not experiencing life with Micah. If this world is all there is, there is absolutely no redeeming value to trying to remember our deceased in a positive manner because the permanency to the end of such a short-lived existence would be too great a burden for anyone to bear.
In these times of heartache, our only source for comfort is our faith in our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, who has promised to resurrect Micah. The author of Hebrews tells us, “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. ” Hebrews 11:1. Rather than focus on what we see (the “sunlight on the ripened grain”) or hear (“the autumn rain), we trust in a loving and sovereign God who is working in our lives in ways that we cannot see, hear or touch. By the gift of faith, Heather and I have been able to rest the promise that God is blessing us even though we can’t necessarily see or taste or touch God’s goodness to us and to Micah.
Pastor Kenny Stokes has reminded me that many of the Biblical saints had very little understanding, during times of immense trial, of how God would use their faith for His kingdom purposes. For example, when Stephen was stoned, how could he have known that his stoning would help lead to the spread of the church? Indeed, the author of Hebrews summarizes how certain individuals in the Old Testament lived by faith despite the fact that they did not see the promises of God come to fruition during their earthly lifetimes. “These all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city.” Hebrews 11:13-16.
The Apostle Paul made no secret of the fact that, for those of us who do live by faith, our sufferings will bear no comparison to the glory at the resurrection. “…This slight momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal. 2 Corinthians 4:17-18. C.S. Lewis, in comparing earthly suffering to heavenly glory, stated “They say of some temporal suffering, “No future bliss can make up for it,” not knowing that Heaven, once attained, will work backwards and turn even that agony into a glory.” C.S. Lewis, Great Divorce, 64.
Rather than this little ceramic cross being the source of anguish, this little cross has become a reminder of God’s promises for us and for Micah. While we don’t know why He allowed this to happen, we trust that God is somehow blessing Micah and blessing us through the otherwise terrible events of the last week of July in 2009. I pray that those of us who call on the name of Christ resolve to live in the hope of the resurrection (“what is unseen”) rather than merely on what is "seen."
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Strength for Each Day
About a year ago, Heather and I read the popular book, “The Shack.” The book follows the story of Mack, a middle-aged man who left home to revisit the site in the Oregon wilderness where his young daughter had been kidnapped and murdered. During his weekend with God (the Father, Son and Holy Spirit), God allows Mack to see his daughter, now in Heaven. As Heather and I read the book together, we remember remarking that we could not imagine ever losing a child. We remember now discussing how such a loss would be too difficult to possibly bear.
Throughout the past 7-plus months since Micah’s death, there have been points when Heather or I (or both of us) have said to ourselves, “This is it. I can’t go on.” There are some days when we are totally exhausted; other days are easier. But regardless of the difficulty, God gets us through each day. Heather recently completed the Beth Moore study entitled ,“Stepping Up.” Moore encourages us to consider how God sustains us daily, and give us grace for each day, regardless of exactly what trials each new day brings. God has sustained us through burying our son. He sustained us through the trial of marking his 1st birthday without him. He has sustained us every day since Micah’s death.
Isaiah 40:28-31: “Have you not known. Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; His understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength. Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted; but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not be faint."
Similarly, the Psalmist praises God for the strength he gives us for each new day. Psalm 84:5 “Blessed are those whose strength is in you, in whose heart are the highways to Zion. As they grow through the valley of Baca [sorrow], they make it a place of springs; the early rain also covers it with pools. They go from strength to strength; each one appears before God in Zion.”
Heather and I can attest to how God seems to give us the strength we need each new day to face that particular day's new trials. Jesus said, “Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." Matthew 6:34. We have tried to apply Jesus' admonition so as to avoid projecting how difficult it will be in the years ahead to live without Micah.
Instead, we've learned to try to focus on each day. Like the Israelistes in the Desert, we are given just enough manna-just enough bread and strength each day. Not too much—otherwise we would probably become prideful in our overabundance of strength we have been provided. It seems like we are given just enough to be sustained, and to continue to trust in him for our "daily bread."
Heather and I have found that we can rest in the promises in His word that he will always give us the strength to meet each new day’s new challenges.
“Day by Day”
Day by Day, and with each passing moment, Strength I find to meet my trials here; Trusting in my Father’s wise bestowment, I’ve no cause for worry or for fear. He, whose heart is kind beyond all measure, Gives unto each day what He deems best. Lovingly, its part of pain and pleasure, Mingling toil with peace and rest.
Every day, the Lord Himself is near me. With a special mercy for each hour; All my cares He fain would bear and cheer me, He whose name is Counselor and Power. The protection of His child and treasure Is a charge that on Himself He laid; “As thy days, they strength shall be in measure,” This is the pledge to me He made.
Throughout the past 7-plus months since Micah’s death, there have been points when Heather or I (or both of us) have said to ourselves, “This is it. I can’t go on.” There are some days when we are totally exhausted; other days are easier. But regardless of the difficulty, God gets us through each day. Heather recently completed the Beth Moore study entitled ,“Stepping Up.” Moore encourages us to consider how God sustains us daily, and give us grace for each day, regardless of exactly what trials each new day brings. God has sustained us through burying our son. He sustained us through the trial of marking his 1st birthday without him. He has sustained us every day since Micah’s death.
Isaiah 40:28-31: “Have you not known. Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; His understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength. Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted; but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not be faint."
Similarly, the Psalmist praises God for the strength he gives us for each new day. Psalm 84:5 “Blessed are those whose strength is in you, in whose heart are the highways to Zion. As they grow through the valley of Baca [sorrow], they make it a place of springs; the early rain also covers it with pools. They go from strength to strength; each one appears before God in Zion.”
Heather and I can attest to how God seems to give us the strength we need each new day to face that particular day's new trials. Jesus said, “Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." Matthew 6:34. We have tried to apply Jesus' admonition so as to avoid projecting how difficult it will be in the years ahead to live without Micah.
Instead, we've learned to try to focus on each day. Like the Israelistes in the Desert, we are given just enough manna-just enough bread and strength each day. Not too much—otherwise we would probably become prideful in our overabundance of strength we have been provided. It seems like we are given just enough to be sustained, and to continue to trust in him for our "daily bread."
Heather and I have found that we can rest in the promises in His word that he will always give us the strength to meet each new day’s new challenges.
“Day by Day”
Day by Day, and with each passing moment, Strength I find to meet my trials here; Trusting in my Father’s wise bestowment, I’ve no cause for worry or for fear. He, whose heart is kind beyond all measure, Gives unto each day what He deems best. Lovingly, its part of pain and pleasure, Mingling toil with peace and rest.
Every day, the Lord Himself is near me. With a special mercy for each hour; All my cares He fain would bear and cheer me, He whose name is Counselor and Power. The protection of His child and treasure Is a charge that on Himself He laid; “As thy days, they strength shall be in measure,” This is the pledge to me He made.
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