Wednesday, November 24, 2010

In Everything

One weekend, I watched a football game on TV. The score was tied, and it was up to the kicker to win or lose the game. He gave the ball a mighty kick, and it soared through the goalposts. Just before he was mobbed by his happy teammates, the kicker raised his eyes to heaven and pointed upward. He seemed to be saying, “Praise God! The victory is won!”

I have no doubts about the sincerity of this young man, and I have seen other athletes make the same gesture – after the home run, after the three point shot, after the tape is broken at the finish line. I enjoy the ecstasy of the win, but I also wonder about praising God during the agony of defeat.

The Apostle Paul encouraged us to give thanks in all circumstances – not just when we win, but also when the job doesn’t appear, when the disease is not healed, when we have more questions than answers. Can we praise God as fervently from the lonely room, from the hospital, from the cemetery?

This Thanksgiving, I still have questions, but I’m grateful God knows the answers. Even if he doesn’t share them with me, I want to be thankful for His presence while I question. Even if my three point shot for a published book bounces off the backboard, I want to raise my eyes to heaven and say thank you for the attempt. Even if the job isn’t secure and the Christmas goose isn’t fat, I want to point skyward and praise the One who makes Thanksgiving possible.

“In everything give thanks, for this is the will of God for you in Christ Jesus” (1 Thessalonians 5:18).

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Hope Waits for Heaven

Yesterday, I shopped for a Christmas gift for my great niece. She’s eight months old, and a real sweetie. I found a darling corduroy outfit, but also wanted to buy her a toy. None of the rattles or teddy bears seemed right. Then as I strolled through the baby aisle, I noticed a soft doll - perfect for little Ainsley.

But as I carried the doll through the store, I suddenly missed my daughter. Rachel was only three months old, safely growing in my womb, when she died. Although it’s been 27 years, I still miss her. I grieve because I never had the opportunity to hold her, to kiss her, to watch her grow up.

Completely overcome by fresh grief, I retreated to a quiet corner and cried for my loss – for the years I had spent apart from my daughter, for the missed birthday parties, for the dolls I never bought her.

“Oh, God,” I prayed, “please tell Rachel how much I love her, how much I miss her. And thank you that someday, I’ll see her in heaven where we’ll never be separated again.”

Although it’s healthy to release our grief, it’s important to keep our focus on the One who gives comfort. Hope waits for those who wait for us – the mothers and fathers, the grandparents and the sweet children who leave us early. Hope waits to see Jesus Himself, who holds our loved ones in the palm of His hand.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Tribute to Caleb

Today is my son’s 25th birthday. I am so grateful that he has reached this milestone. God has come through on the promise he gave me when Caleb was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor: “The Lord will sustain him on his sickbed and restore him from his bed of illness.”

I’m also grateful for the person Caleb is, for the young man who continues to work part-time and go to school part-time, reaching for his goals. He’s come through so many difficult times with a great attitude, a desire to make something better of himself and a smile that makes this mother’s heart do an extra thump.

He was a happy child, even when sick. He would throw up and announce, “Thar’ she blows!” An early talker and reader, he passed all the kindergarten tests with ease. When the other kids were asked to name an animal, they said, “Kitty or doggie or tiger.” Caleb answered, “Chameleon – they change colors, you know.”

Junior high and high school were difficult, but Caleb made it through. He focused on his music, winning an award as the fastest drummer, and marching in step with the FreeState band. He helped me around the house and left notes to encourage me. One note hangs on my kitchen cabinet. Caleb wrote it after I lost my job, “I know you don’t like roller coasters, but God is taking us on one. I’ll hold my hands up the whole way, and we will be okay.”

The Stage 3 cancer was a blow, but Caleb marched through his chemo and radiation treatments with ever-increasing courage. Even now, he uses his scar as a conversation-starter and refuses to wallow in self-pity. He understands how fragile life is and how precious each moment can be. He is looking forward to finishing his degree in criminal justice and securing a great job – hopefully, near the beach in California.

Someone recently asked me who I admire. I answered, “My son. I admire my son.”

Happy birthday, dear Caleb, and many more.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

True Satisfaction

The temp job has ended, so once again I am looking for that full-time job with benefits – out there – somewhere.

Last night, the divine whisper sent me to Psalm 63:5, “My soul will be satisfied as with the richest of foods….”

It’s true that rich foods can be satisfying. Just today, a wonderful friend brought me a strawberry shake from Dairy Queen – richly satisfying. But I know tomorrow, I’ll be hungry again.

Other things in this life are satisfying: new clothes, a different hairdo, redecorating the house – even a full-time job. But none of these things last. None of them really satisfy those inner cravings for security, intimacy and peace.

How do we find true satisfaction that lasts? The verses preceding and following Psalm 63:5 answer the question. “I will praise you, God, and honor you as long as I live,” “I lift up my hands to you in prayer,” “I praise you with songs of joy,” “I lie awake, thinking of you.”

True satisfaction is found when we focus on God’s love rather than our problems. Complete security is found in Christ; not in jobs. Real intimacy is found in the arms of our loving Savior. Sweet peace is felt as we trust God for the answers.

The richest satisfaction in life is knowing that we belong to God, and nothing can ever take that away.