SHADOW: Lenten Devotion Day 22

Lenten Devotion Day 22

SHADOW

By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us, 

to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, 

to guide our feet into the way of peace." 

Luke 1:78-79

As I was out on an early morning walk with my dog I found myself reflecting on the powerful words of the priest Zechariah upon the birth of his son - John the Baptist. His words have been in my heart often lately because he is proclaiming what a savior will mean for the world...and it is beautiful news.

We all need some beautiful news once in a while do we not? Zechariah provides it as he relates God's promise to bring a light into this world darkened by suffering and loss. This light is one meant especially for those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death. The light, he says, will guide us into the way of peace.

I wonder about that peace. As I watch people I care about struggle with heartbreak and loss I yearn for that peace for them. As I watch the news and imagine what it must be like to try to raise my child in a country where acts of terrorism are a daily reality I yearn for that peace. 

Out of the shadow of death and darkness Jesus will guide our feet into the way of peace. He will guide our feet...it occurs to me that we often sit back and wait for Jesus to make it all better. Jesus will bring it...Jesus will do it...Jesus will make it...but Zechariah said Jesus will guide us. According to the dictionary to "guide" is to "show the way by leading, directing, or advising or one who serves as a model for others, as in a course of conduct." 

Jesus came to guide us - to model for us and to show us the way - so that WE might be the ones to do and to be and to act. If we want peace it is up to us to work for it. Jesus came to show us the way and guide our feet to it...but it seems to me much of the work along the journey is our responsibility. 

Jesus showed the way out of the 

SHADOW

it is up to us to step into the light

and live

as he taught us.

Family Matters

"For you, O God, ... have given me the heritage of those who fear your name."  Psalm 61:5

There is, following death, the dreaded ritual of letting go. Not just of the physical person - but of their physical belongings. It is a difficult thing at best...a stressful and weary one at least.  Suddenly, an entire life is boxed up and stacked into a corner...family gathers...items are shared...stories are told...decisions are made.  No matter how much time has gone by, it still feels wrong to be prowling through things that did not belong to you...you feel guilty and greedy - even though you aren't.

Yesterday I read the 61st Psalm and was struck by verse 5. After I read it I laid down my bible and prayed a prayer of thanksgiving to God for my own heritage.  Not only the heritage of faith I have adopted and been grafted into as the bible tells me...but the heritage I come from in my earthly family. I shared thanksgiving for family, both by biology and by marriage, that have shown me more about grace, forgiveness and love than I could ever imagine learning elsewhere.  Thanksgiving that they learned those things by being followers of Christ. Some in better ways than others, but all - even in their failures - teaching me something, setting an example.

Today, round one of the parting ritual is over. And as difficult as it is to carry home some treasured items that a few months ago were not mine to treasure, I look at them with thanksgiving and joy.  They are symbols of that heritage: my husbands baptism gown, a framed photo of Queen Elizabeth (a great story for another day, lol) - not at all worth anything of monetary value - but instead reminders that the great stories of faith will go on...we will retell them...pass them down...and the ritual will continue.

Thank you God for the heritage of those who fear your name - they have done well.

Psalm of Recovery

Last night I slept very little. They say one should ever go to bed angry with their spouse, I have determined we should perhaps not go angry with God either.  I woke still heartbroken, exhausted and very much in need of God's comfort. So I got up and retraced the same steps I took yesterday out to the beach. Yesterday there were dark ominous clouds gathering at a distance, the wind whipping wildly. Today, the sun is warm, the sky is blue and the cool breeze refreshing.

I sat on the steps, overlooking a calm and surprisingly blue ocean (it is almost never blue here, more a murky brown) and I prayed. I explained to God that yesterday I had just needed to rage at him and I wasn't at all interested in what he had to say in his own defense...I didn't want to hear it. So I hadn't taken the time to listen.  Today is a new day and I pled desperately to hear his voice. I sit and watch the easy waves roll up on the beach and soon they are singing to me..."All who are thirsty, all who are weak, come to the fountain wash your heart in the stream of life. Let the pain and the sorrow be washed away in the waves of his mercy as deep cries out to deep..."

In the stillness God sings me a song and as I burst into a new set of tears, God spoke..."Let go of the why," he said, "and carry the cross of what-is while keeping your eyes on the yet to be." It was a startling sentence and yet somehow, as I began to unpack it,  it put me back on firm ground and brought me a new level of peace.

Holding on to the "why" of death will be a frustrating and painful place to remain...there is no answer to why. But, finding the beauty of God and a good purpose (a better way to live and be) in the horror of grief - that is our "what-is" ...and it can only happen with a belief and trust in the "yet to be" - the promise and glory of a resurrection and new life.

The "what-is" of grief is a cross to bear for it is a heavy burden - a journey that is long, slow and painful...But...it is not the journey of ALL there is.  The journey of grief carries us through beautiful places, amongst loving faces and deep into peaceful valleys - even if all we can see is dark shadow and tears. But the other, the beautiful, is there, waiting to be glimpsed and discovered...waiting for us to look beyond the heavy cross we carry and see...glory...victory...resurrection. Waiting for us to glimpse the yet to be of the Easter people.

Why takes us nowhere, but "what is"...as painful as it is...moves us forward.

Tears still fall, hearts are still broken...we are not healed but we are in recovery. For now, we are all kinder to one another. We are all wondering how to carry this beautiful legacy forward out of this gapping hole of absence...and I am confident we will find a way...a way out of "why" - through "what is" and into the "yet to be."  It is the hope God gives us when all seems hopeless...thanks be to God.

Psalm of Grief and Rage

I have often wondered how the Psalmist went from raging at God to praising him in only a few sentences. How can rage be dispelled that easily and quickly?  Today, I need to rage at God. I am angry. I am hurt. I am heartbroken…I am sick of tears. So I do what I always do when I need to have my deepest discussions with God – I go on a walk.  Normally I find the steadfast beauty of creation to be a comfort – God speaks to me through the earth and I find peace.  Not today.

I am at the beach and I come back from my walk offended. I am offended that the ocean remains so calm and tranquil while my soul is in the midst of a raging storm. I am offended that I had to walk among flocks of sea gulls, looking happy and blissful in the warm rising sun. In truth, they feed on dead things…and my bones have been picked clean in death. They don’t even pay me mind – I have nothing to offer them but tears.

Now I have returned to my room and I feel no better than before, which is new territory for me. I think again of the Psalmists. How did their rage turn so quickly to praise? My answer…what other choice did they have? If we lose our faith and hope that God will indeed comfort those who mourn, what are we left with? An endless, empty hole. If we stop believing in his steadfast love and goodness we are doomed to stay in the darkness of evil.  We have to praise…we have to rejoice that God is good and that all things have opportunity for good and glory…because the alternative is terrifying.

Much of my ministry I have dealt with death and I am the one who offers the words of comfort…God cries with you…God did not take your loved one but he has received them well…God is good and will carry you through.  I have believed all these things and I believe them now.  I suppose I am not as angry at God as I thought – perhaps it is the earth I rage at…the world which takes the good from us at too young of an age…the natural order that can’t guarantee that those who hold such promise and give so much to making this life better, will not live long lives.

My daughter has lost three very significant people in her life in a matter of months, this last a great mentor and friend…a wife has lost her soul mate and best friend…a family has lost a kind and loving person…a school has lost a valued teacher, his colleagues a dear friend…students have lost a mentor and big brother figure who guided them through the turbulent teenage years…a track team has lost their coach and leader…a parent has lost someone she could never thank enough for the blessing he brought to her family with his nurture and love.   Rest in the Peaceful arms of Christ our brother, Deric Beiter

I will praise God for the goodness shared for a time – I will thank God for knowing this man and for the influence he had upon my daughter and our family….I will. But today…I can only rage.

Garden Psalm

God sat with me in a garden today. With a slight nip in the air, the sun working hard to warm the new day, I took my new book of poetry and went for a walk.  I found myself in a churchyard where off to the side was a small prayer garden. It looked inviting in the glow of morning.  I sat upon a bench and read a few poems aloud to the birds and squirrels - and perhaps some puzzled neighbors wondering what crazy fool was reading poetry out loud on a busy Tuesday morning.

"Around me the trees stir in their leaves and call out, 'Stay awhile."
The light flows from their branches.


And they call again, "It's simple," they say,
"and you too have come 
into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled
with light, and to shine."
                (When I Am Among the Trees by Mary Oliver)

I stop reading and gaze at a flowering tree. I really should learn the names of these beautiful things. I am struck at how the tree is a visual metaphor - some flowers are only buds, not yet given birth. Some were open, red, beautiful and mature - glorious. Others were brown and giving way to death. It made me sad. Remembering I was also here to deal with grief and loss.

But then the words of the poem came to me..."and you too have come into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled with light and to shine."  As I thought about the dark and shadowy world of sorrow my eyes traveled around the little garden and I saw that even in the shadows, there were beautiful things growing.  And there, out of the darkness of a deep mound of mulch and wood chips, sprouts were forcing their way into the light.  I looked again at the glorious, red flowering tree and beneath it I notice a lush carpet of red petals that litter the ground. A royal carpet. It will now turn to fertile soil and thus will bloom again.  There is even beauty in death. I am no longer sad.

A Life to Remember

"For many live as enemies of the cross of Christ...their end is destruction." "But our citizenship is is in heaven and it is from there that we are expecting a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ."

(Philippians 3:18,19,20)

Today I celebrated the life of a wonderful woman. Peggy Kelley Roberts was my mother-in-law and today we said farewell as we remembered her life with great joy, laughter and more than a few tears. I wept, not for her death...but completely for my loss, my husband's loss, my two daughter's loss - our entire family's loss.

Peggy was one of God's meek saints. She was the stability and strength of our family, as my husband so beautifully stated. She was an incredible mother and wife, sister and grandmother, aunt and friend. She lived for her God and for her family and for her church - and, in about that order. So, I weep not for her death - for her death is a release and a reason for rejoicing. Her death means cancer no longer has a hold of her, pain and suffering will no more be a part of her vocabulary.

It also means she joins her beloved Jim whose farewell we celebrated in the same church just 8 weeks ago. They hated to be apart in life - why should death be any different? The church was full today, as it was 8 weeks ago and I can't help it but my heart is full of pride over this fact. Especially since many present didn't even know Jim or Peggy - but they knew one of their children or grandchildren. What that means to me is that the Godly and righteous influence of these two beautiful people did indeed rub off on their family - and we have gone on to form our own meaningful and cherished relationships. Like a pebble thrown into a pond - their influence will continue to ripple on for generations as we take what we learned from them and teach it to our own children, grandchildren, friends and neighbors.

It was a great day to remember a life lived well...I don't think I could ask for any more than to get to the end of my earthly journey and be remembered for a life well lived.

Farewell Peggy - until I see you again.