provoked

"What provokes in you a sense of despair and death?"

Ugh. These questions can split you to the marrow. So I go there and think about that this Sunday morning service. It isn't very hard. After my father passed away...

It sits like that hanging... it has been almost five years and we have been changed forever. Death has come only for us to realize it was always here.  

So what provokes that now? Why just about anything! I take a look at creation and I see it there. When I look at my life, I see it there. When I look at others, I see it there. Broken and messy, this life reeks death. How to live in that pain?

I have lived. It was almost that simple. Life just kept on spinning and I couldn't get off. And I argued with God and I raged inside and He didn't let go. He forced me to breathe and He rooted me deep. He invited me to look and see.

Well you can only hold your breath and cover your eyes for so long. And God being God doesn't let us be. Praise God that He doesn't.

I began to see and hear what He was saying in the midst of all that grief. I heard Him silent first. His silence thundered in my ears and I wondered where He was. He let me stay there long enough to feel desperate, desperate for Him.

And the reeling stopped and I grew still. This song is one I can't sing completely through. My dad was on oxygen. I have had asthma all my life. And I can't even explain what this song does to me. So I won't. But if you have ever had a really severe asthma attack~ you might just get it.

God quietly came closer in that silence until I opened my eyes and realized He was right there. And I made this thankful list and I began to see Him. And He was everywhere. Everywhere death was, He was too. His fingerprints and promises wrapped betrayed Him. I saw Him wooing His creation, wooing me. Trust Him. Hope. Believe.

And me, I did.

Now don't get me wrong... life's not peaches now and I can tell you just last week I hit rock bottom (or so I thought) and felt quite desperate. But I knew where to go, and I stepped out even though I wanted to step in. Well after a few days of standing there and arguing, I stepped out.

Pastor shared Haggai with us today. But he started us on the front side of captivity here.  You live, work, have kids, and care for your place of community. Remember you have been captured. It was easy to do that with freedom. But in captivity? It's right there in black and white.

But then we went to the backside of captivity. What to do when the glory of the temple just isn't the same? When you weep rather than sing (Ezra)? What does God say?

You can read for yourself here. But I took "be strong", "and work", and "DO NOT FEAR". (Caps... nice, I need that!)

Mixed in all that, God says, 

"I am with you."

"I WILL shake the heavens and the earth."

"And in this place, I will grant peace." (in this place of death? YES!)

"I will bless you/" (How did He know that was what my heart longed for.)

And the last part has a cross reference in my Bible to the Song of Solomon.... "and I will make you like a signet ring, for I have chosen you."

ah... to be chosen by the Almighty who calls the stars by name. Can I not be strong, work, and not fear with those promises? On my own, no... but covered and lavished by His Grace... YES!

Robert's Psalm

This one boy of mine, he's got a passion for graves. That's him on the ground.

His Sunday School teacher asks the kids to write a psalm of where they are with God. My poor boy is in knots because words are very tricky for him. And to write a whole page and then read those out loud.... ugh. I sigh with him. Then I ask him only to start thinking. He instead started worrying.

So we began work on it one day, when time was ticking closer and closer to that deadline. I hold the pen because who can think when the blank page reflects into your eyes. He has no idea, and maybe he could be sick that day, and why should a thirteen year old have to even do this.

I think instead while he whines. I think of my favorite pictures of him in my head. When my camera died so long ago I started taking mental pictures. And those are even more precious to me than the real pictures. I can call them to mind even in the dark of the night and they never get lost or damaged. But too bad for you, I can't share them. This picture is a bit old.

So I call these memories to mind and there he is... White River, South Dakota straightening the graves, just down the road wiping the grass clippings from my father's stone, and there again kneeling over graves he has no part of and yet he is there. And his heart hangs on his sleeve... I see him bend, wipe, straighten, and sit. Often he lingers... knowing he can't tell the dates or the names... I know he pauses for other reasons. He has always lingered. So why?

I tell him to think about the cemeteries. Yeah, I can be a bit of a crazy mom sometimes. I say tell me about what you feel there. What is going on in that heart? And then I write what he says. He finishes and I ask him to think of God there. Standing by that grave and stone, what does the Father say. He knots again... who can know that. I tell him it is ok if it is as simple as it looks. So we write what we know is Truth.

So here- for those who want to know-

the psalm of my boy

In the cemetery,

I feel like I am in a building

with all the people who have passed away.

I think of their families and what were they like.

I wonder about their lives.

What did they look like?

Were they a Christian?

What kind of lives did they live?

I hope they went to a better place.

God sees me and He knows.

-Robert