You Can't Take It With You

 Don’t we all think we’d be happier if we had a newer, bigger, better house or car or job?  Better backdrops for our highly staged, self-promoting Instagram and Facebook posts.  We define others and ourselves by the material things they or we have.  I was that person, and if I’m honest, I still am.  I never agreed with the term “Money can’t buy happiness.”  Okay..  But it sure makes life easier.  Of course I’d be happier in a bigger home and brand new car and a few trips somewhere south of the border.  Isn’t that why every other show on TV is giving away one of those things?  Because it makes people happy!  Isn’t that why that’s what floods our social media feeds?  Yes, those things are exciting blessings in our lives, but is that truly the reason we’re sharing them, publicly?  I wouldn’t call myself materialistic, but I think that the generation that I’ve grown up in has definitely affirmed the belief that “Money will absolutely buy happiness”.  I don’t think it’s sinful to graciously accept blessings of material comforts, but I do think it’s important to evaluate the real cost and compromise of these things.  Jesus said, “I tell you the truth, it is hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven.  Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.” (Matthew 19:23-24)  Woah, last time I checked the size of a camel is not relevant to the size of an eye of a needle.  Most of the time I can't even get the thread through the eye of the needle.  Let me first say this, we are not rich, at least not by our society’s standards.  We live in a modest three-bedroom house, drive used cars, and have never been to Mexico.  But I also know that by the world’s standards, we are rich.  We own a home, with indoor plumbing, power at the flip of a switch and central air.  We own two reliable vehicles that are also equipped with air conditioning.  Our kids have so many toys that they have taken over every corner of every room of our said house and cars.  So much stuff!  Too much stuff!   I never realized just how much is too much, or where I cross the line to where blessings become a curse until Luke left us.  In those moments, I remember thinking I would’ve given everything I owned and anything I would ever own on this earth, in this life to have my son back.  I envisioned how grateful I’d be to sleep on a cot in a homeless shelter to have Luke back.  It didn’t seem right to me that my son’s life wasn’t up for sale.  We live in a world where everything has a price.  We are driven by the things of this world and not the matters of the world to come.  The world where nothing has a price and everything has been paid in full.  Think about this: Any other catastrophe in life besides death we solve with money, because everything else ultimately is replaceable.  The fact that I desperately thought it wasn’t fair to not be able to trade everything on this earth for my son back in my arms revealed something about myself, my life, and about my faith and trust in God.  It revealed how much I rely on myself to get through life and hardships, in particular.  I wanted to negotiate the situation, as if God needs my petty earthly possessions.  I needed to be in control and felt entitled to the power over God to question His decision to call Luke home.  But life and death are not up for sale, because life and death have already been conquered and are free.  When I finally sought God about this, which I should’ve done to begin with, the truth became clear that bartering the outcome wasn’t the answer – faith was.  But isn’t that the answer to everything?  Why am I so quick to answer my own call?  Why am I so eager to judge God’s plan for me?  No amount of money or control could’ve changed this outcome and it won’t change any future outcomes, but why does that still seem so unfair?  Because I haven’t humbled myself enough to feel blessed that I am not in control.  Because I ultimately haven’t accepted that the same Almighty God who created the world and everything in it wants me to remember to love Him most and first.

When I go to Heaven the only things I’ll take are my faith in Jesus and the grace God has given me.  Nothing else.  Not my purse, my phone, my jewelry, or even my most prized possessions – my kids and husband.  We will meet them when they get there, but they’re not coming with me.  Doesn’t that sum up how unimportant my material possessions are?  It broke my heart when the nurse at the hospital gave us back his pajamas – the ones I loved with the dinosaur feet – to take home with us.  I thought, What am I supposed to do with this now?  When we came home to see all of his toys and clothes and blankets were still in the same places, but he wasn’t.  All Luke took with him was that precious smile and God’s good grace; everything else belongs to this world.  And if God truly loved these things as we love these things as He loves us, would he not let us take them with us?  What I’m learning about the “rich man” Jesus spoke of is it’s important to differentiate between comforts God is blessing us with and possessions we bless ourselves with, and then consequently, the power those things hold over us.  Just as in Ephesians 2 God has shown us “incomparable riches of his grace” through Jesus, the world will show us incomparable riches of sin.  I believe that anyone blessed with more than riches of His mercy (everyone) is subject to being the rich man in the parable.  Even just life as we know it in America gives our egos power and control and more pride and self-righteousness than we know what to do with.  Yes, it’s true.  Money could make you very happy.  But money also can be in the leading role in almost every sin we commit.   The more or less of it we have the easier it becomes to fill our lives with things that distract us from our Purpose.  It’s most important to strive for possessing a strong, fruitful faith at least in the same way we strive for the other desires of our lives, because on that day even Warren Buffett won’t be able to buy his way into Heaven; his G6 can’t fly to God’s kingdom.

Whether I have a lot or a little on earth, I can choose to freely accept the riches of His grace and mercy.  I’m not going to lie, it’s much easier said than done, to humble myself to give up the power and control.  But I am reminded to surrender to God’s will and am strengthened with reassurance every night when I hear my own children recite the words “thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven”.

Words

Words have never meant so much to me.  They say actions speak louder than words, but here’s one for the little guy.  First of all, thank you to anyone even reading or caring about any words I write.  There’s a lot to read and not a lot of time, just ask me how many books I’ve managed to read in the last decade.  Second, thank you anyone for your kind and encouraging words for me in response to my words.  I’ll say again, I’m not a writer, preacher, or saint.  Not being any or all of those things makes me scared that I’m not the right person to write anything about faith in Jesus.  But, by trusting in Him, I think I’m doing okay.  No angry mob outside my house yet.

Ok, so, words.  I don’t think I’m the only one who struggles with words.  Whenever I would or have had conversations with anybody after Luke went up to Heaven, it was usually quickly followed with an apology text.  “Sorry if I said the wrong thing.”  No one had the words.  What words can you say to someone who can’t be helped?  It was like the pink elephant was in the house, even for me.  I didn’t know if it seemed self-pitying to wallow about him, but no one else wanted to bring it up and possibly send me spirally into an emotional abyss.  But then not talking about him just made that elephant bigger and pinker.  I thought I don’t want to be a downer by talking about my dead son or beat the horse about him being in Heaven.  But I don’t want them to think I don’t miss him or am just moving on with my life. I knew whomever I was talking to was thinking the exact same thing, and it was just awkward.  No one wanted to be insensitive, but I knew they were burning with questions, especially friends who are moms to young babies.  How?  Where?  When?  What did you do the day before?  Was he sick?  I know because I would’ve been thinking the exact same things.  This is a parent’s worst nightmare, and the fact that it could happen to baby Luke begged the question, “Could it happen to MY baby?”  Clearly, I don’t have the answer to that question.  I never thought it would happen to my baby.  But that’s the power of God’s will you don’t understand until you experience something that makes no sense that you cannot control.  Usually, that’s used in a negative context – a loss, a challenge.  But let’s give some credit to God’s Amazing Will!  It’s by His will that we have the things that we have – jobs, cars, kids, safety, food, everything.  It’s by His will that we are living and breathing.  But we only choose to acknowledge the power in that when something that wasn’t ours to begin with is taken away. 

Do not love the world or anything in the world.  If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him.  For everything in the world – the cravings of sinful man, the lust of the eyes and the boasting of what he has and does – comes not from the Father but from the world.  The world and its desires pass away, but the man who does the will of God lives forever.   1 John 2:15-17

Couldn’t have said it better myself.  (Obviously.)  Doing the will of God, in actions, is great, clearly.  But speaking, hearing, and accepting God’s will is the work that needs to be done first.  That is where I am, and I see most people around me get stuck.  Words can be scary.  Are they the right words?  Am I sounding stupid for saying them?  What if someone misinterprets the words I’m trying to say?  I struggle with writing this because I worry about all of those things.  Stupid things really when we’re talking about the peace and comfort that God freely gives for us while we’re on this earth and the comfort He promises us when we leave this earth.  Isaiah 55:11 says, “So is my word that goes out from my mouth:  It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.”  That’s an important reminder for me.  So many times, I want to offer someone comfort by asking them to seek God, but I stop myself from doubting myself, which from this is clearly doubting God.  But when you speak Christ into someone’s heart, God makes it Loud and Clear! 

An example of this:  The day after Luke passed, a girl I went to school with who I am Facebook friends with messaged me.  We were never best friends, and I hadn’t seen her since high school.  She sent me back a message I had sent her three and a half years earlier.  I had seen she had a miscarriage and was praying for her.  I remember contemplating over sending the message.  I figured she’d think I was trying to be “holier than thou” and mock me.  It went something like, “God will never give you an obstacle that He won’t help see you through.”  I believed that to my core, so I went ahead and sent it.  At that time, she didn’t respond.  I went on with my life and figured I was right that I shouldn’t have sent it.  Keep your Godliness to yourself, I thought.  That Monday when I read her message we had just gotten home from picking out Luke’s tiny casket at the mortuary and choosing our gravesites at the cemetery.  Yes, I just watched my husband write a check for three adjacent gravesites.  I wasn’t exactly in the mood to talk to God, but what she said brought me to my knees.  She said that what I said was true and helped her through her difficult time and was hoping it would help me now.  Words.  They were just words.  They were words that I thought had come back empty.  Words I struggled to say.  That was God’s will.  His will for me sending them to her, and then in an almost literal way, returning to me NOT empty but full of His love and comfort.  It’s often the words we’re most afraid of saying that mean the most to someone else. 

Sometimes it’s the words we hear that come back full of His will.  A family member and I got into an argument of sorts about four years ago.  A close friend of his had passed away.  The argument was aimed at my faith.  It wasn’t hate-filled, and I guess you could call it a conversation where we were disagreeing.  I didn’t fully know but understood the place he was coming from.  He was sad.  It wasn’t fair.  He challenged that if God took away one of my children, or even both, I’d rethink my faith in Him, too.  I’ve talked to my husband about this conversation over the years a lot.  I’ve prayed for him a lot.  I’ve prayed over the state of his spiritual health for years now.  And then this.  Lo, God did take one of my children.  And, I did, in my darkest hours, rethink my faith in Him.  Jeremy has said he hopes he doesn’t remember saying those words to me now.  I hope he does.  I hope he can feel the same peace I have found through faith.  I hope he would let God comfort him as He has comforted me.  I like to think this is God’s will for him as well as me.  Those words were true.  I didn’t know, I do now, and I choose God and I hope he does, too.

Words are only words until you let God fill them with His will and His love and His comfort.  Don’t take the power of words for granted.  They will not return to you empty or cause anyone harm, but God will use them to bless you and whoever you say them to, and sometimes whoever says them to you.  And surrender.  Surrender your worries and contemplation to God.  The Bible has close to one million words that have been filled with His provision:  use them, for yourself and for everyone.  You never know the way He will return those words to you.

Happy 8-months, Lukey!

Love unconditionally

These are words I wrote two years ago when I was attempting to start a prayer journal or things that my faith had been convicted by.  I didn't get far with the journal. I realized it seemed impossible to write all of my prayers down - people close, people far, people oppressed around the world, myself, my marriage, my kids.  I didn't know where to start and where to end.  It was something I wanted to do to remember to sit down and actually pray for people who I had told I would pray for.  So many times you see people comment on tragic events of others with a "thoughts and prayers being sent your way" or something along those lines. I knew I was supposed to be praying for and about everything, but I ultimately still wanted to be in control.  I wanted the credit when things went well.  But when they didn't or don't (I still struggle with this, obviously!) if we're being honest, I wanted to be upset at God about it.  If I'm worrying about something, it just means I haven't fully handed it over.  Soon, this notebook, as all my notebooks do, turned into a place to make my lists!  I love lists - grocery lists, things to do lists, things to remember lists.  When it was completely filled up, all the pages used, about a month ago, I decided to go back through and look if there was any unfinished business on those lists and pages before throwing it out, and boy, was there ever. Hello!  Guess what the only list I never made in there was?  Yep.  A list of prayers.  I did stumble upon a couple of pages, this being one that was pretty amazing.  I need to read this everyday, but I also need to remember to take my own advice and pray.  Not because God needs to know my problems; He knows my problems before I do.  I need to pray and love unconditionally because that is when He reveals himself to me. That is when I can see His blessings and answers to my prayers.  People (read: I) get frustrated with God when he doesn't answer, but how can you get an answer when you never asked a question?  You won't see God's glory if you're too busy worrying about something you should've just handed over to begin with.  I can think back to the context in which I wrote these words.  To see how God has blessed me and my faith since I wrote those words is absolutely amazing. 

I started a new prayer journal and hope I will keep with it, and God give me strength to not be overwhelmed by the words I bring to Him.  And while giving the gift of prayer to others is so important for others and your own soul, accepting and asking for prayer is equally so.  Asking for prayer from anyone else shows humility. Instead of puffing out my chest in pride or assuming it isn't something God will or can help me with, it's humbling to remember that.  I have an amazing friend who whenever I mention (complain) about something, she says, "I'll pray for you."  My knee-jerk reaction is What?!  Why?!  No, don't talk to God about that; that's just me complaining.  A-ha!  Isn't that the answer to my grievance, then?  If it's that ridiculous, isn't it time to let it go or let it be?  And for the other times, I humbly accept her prayers over me with no strings attached.  Just love and grace.

Amazing Grace

Today was one of those days.  Up late last night.  It’s difficult to feel rejected or even just not accepted by those closest to me.  It seems like those are the people whose empathy wears off the fastest.  Communication lacks and support dwindles.  Maybe their own grief is festering, maybe resentment begins to grow, and life goes on.  That’s the thing about grief or trials – they move you.  And, while we started at the same place, I’ve reflected on my own life and values and faith, and without trying, it seems as if we’ve all ended up in different places.  I’ve been not talking to my sister/best friend for the last month.  We’re both stubborn, we got in an argument, and I guess I expected more empathy than she showed.  And if I’m being honest, I just didn’t have the emotional tolerance at the time to patch things up.  Now after a month, I’ve let that resentment grow and life go on.  I know that’s not right, but I emotionally can’t defend myself right now.  For the same reason, more or less, I’ve been distant from other people in my life, too.  Yesterday, all it took was a few neglected texts from friends, a day of incessant fighting amongst the kids, the pressure and stress of trying to plan two parties – friend and family - for Corbin’s birthday, and an overcritical conversation with my husband to send me over the proverbial edge.  Yes, as much as I fight it, I am a woman.  I am dramatic and sensitive.  I am overbearing and controlling.  I over-commit in all aspects of my life, but it would require me to compromise who I am to not do it.  I like the feeling of accomplishing something that takes a lot of effort.  It’s so gratifying in a life of raising children that usually offers so little, if any, gratification.  Maybe it’s a symptom of being a stay-at-home mom in recent years now.  Then, after the commitment has been made, it’s likely a symptom of a total lack of organization on my part.  It’s been acknowledged; I’m working on it.  The parties, I know, “aren’t necessary”.  Except they kind of are.  We all need this.  We need an opportunity to celebrate something for a change.  The last time we saw most of our family members was Luke’s funeral.  We need to make more memories.  Plus, Corbin really deserves it.  He’s had a tough year (obviously); he does well in school, and bears the weight of being the oldest child.  I don’t personally know what that’s like, but I can imagine it isn’t easy.  

So this morning, it took everything I had to get everyone going and out the door to church.  It’s always a bit of a production, but the kids were begging for pancakes and the shower was calling my name.  I knew I needed to go, though.  I sat there yearning to hear something reverent, something to make me feel better about my day.  I never feel that way, but today I wanted it!  Our pastor’s sermon was great, but it just wasn’t what I needed to hear today.  I selfishly prayed for myself.  I prayed for patience, for understanding, for help applying what I was hearing to my moment.  Nothing struck me.  At one point it turned into just getting through without having a public display of emotion.

I’m not a “cryer”, not in public anyway.  I don’t like the reaction it solicits from other people.  I don’t dare to even cry in private anymore.  Living with four other people, three being little ones has scared it out of me, even before losing Luke.  And after, every time Marty has caught me tearing up, he would exclaim with the bluntness only a four year old possesses, “Oh, not again with the cryin’!”  No, not again.  It’s not that I’m setting a precedent that it isn’t okay; it’s that I don’t want them to worry.  There will be a time and place in their lives where I’ll be able to return to the womanly drama that is crying whenever I please.  But that time is not now.  I don’t want to cast doubt in their little minds and that I’m crying and sad because I don’t fully trust God.  I know maybe a therapist somewhere would beg to differ, but I personally feel like they’re too little to understand the difference.  There are times it happens, but I’m not proud of it.  Oh, but the tears were flowing today.  I kept my sunglasses on when we stopped after church to visit Luke.  The sun was shining, so I felt bad for crying.  But in that moment, it just felt like if I wasn’t there and he was here, things would be different.  Life wouldn’t be so hard if we’d never had to endure all of this.  He’d be almost 8 months old – eating lots of baby food, possibly crawling and sitting, definitely smiling and squealing.  God give me strength today, I prayed.  I stood there and let myself feel bad for myself.  How pitiful. 

I continued the pity party when I got home and crawled back into bed for a quick nap.  This was my solution to my own problem.  The saying should go, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, take a nap.”  I woke up when Jeremy was leaving for work as he kissed me on the head.  Immediately I felt and knew, I’m a horrible person.  I had spent the last twelve hours fully feeling bad for myself, and feeling lost, and probably all the while taking it out on him, and he still wants to gently kiss me on the head before heading off to what is sure to be a stressful day at work.  Would I have even said goodbye to myself?  I think I would’ve snuck out the back an hour earlier.  After he left, I realized he had picked up, emptied the dishwasher, reloaded the dishwasher (correctly!), folded some clothes, and fed the kids lunch.  I felt so humbled and low, awful and grateful, sorry and thankful.  I am certain that in this life, God will personally teach me more about His grace through this man than I ever deserve.  That is what I needed today.  He is what I needed today and everyday.  This day wasn’t going to get better until I quit refusing to accept grace.  I found the reverence I was looking for was, has been and is right next to me.  I love you, Jeremy, and will remember to thank God for you everyday.  Thank you God for giving me such a patient husband and continue to open my heart to receive, and his heart to give, grace freely.  We have been moved in the last two months - together, not apart.  Grace does that.  My sister text me as I was writing this.  I hope I can shake off the resentment and differences and just be graceful. 

Scripture that came to mind is 2 Corinthians 4, about jars of clay. 

"We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed."