From the last week.
Thoughts on Psalm 34:9-11.
Showing posts with label Suffering. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Suffering. Show all posts
Sunday, July 19, 2020
Sunday, July 12, 2020
Given and Taken
Little one given
Little one taken
We trust in the Lord
Who is never mistaken.
They wept at the cross,
They wept through the night,
But Sunday's Son rose
To make all these wrongs right.
In honor of our little one, miscarried at 10 weeks (July 10, 2020)
Monday, March 16, 2020
Love by Listening and Learning
If you are like me, you are facing this Monday with a very perspective than last Monday.
COVID-19 has prompted calls for action that I have not previously experienced. We are walking a path we haven't walked before.
That said, here are two ideas that have been growing in my mind for what it looks like to "let all you do be done in love" in the midst of COVID-19.
First, listen to others.
My ideas of what this virus means have been changing. My personal risk (and my family's) is not high. But when I have heard the hearts of those who are in an extremely vulnerable position ... or are caring for those who are, my perspective on what it means to act in love have changed.
It has helped me ask this kind of question: "If I were the one caring for a child on immuno-suppression medication, how much would I want others to act with conservative, protective, proactive care within the community?"
Listening is also a way of caring for others in a season where some people are facing loneliness like never before. Asking for neighbors to reach out if they needed help or prayers has already created connections and shared stories that I didn't have before.
Second, be a learner.
Since much of what we are experiencing is new (new virus, new pandemic experience, new implications being realized each day), have the posture of a learner.
I'm not commending that you race to read all the panic-inducing updates on the spread of the virus.
Rather, listen to counsel. If your medical provider or government officials make a request or recommendation, take it to heart. If you see how your actions could be changed to be more protective of the vulnerable, make a change. Find trusted resources for wise action, and do not look out only for your own interests, but also for the interests of others.
There are some heart-breaking stories of the dramatic and widespread consequences of just a single person failing to heed advice. This is a time for humble hearts. Let's be good learners.
1 Corinthians 16:14 calls us to "let all you do be done in love." May the Lord grant us that grace.
Saturday, May 18, 2019
What Is God Doing?
God rules over all. Every good thing given and every perfect gift is from above. He holds all things together by the word of His power. There are no rogue molecules, acting out of order from His purpose or plan. Of course, these truths are the deepest bedrock of joy in all the beautiful moments and gifts of each day.
But sometimes in our weakness, in our suffering and pain, the reality that God is in charge .... that He could change this in a second if He chose ... that He is the hand giving the hardship ... it brings its own temptation to question and wonder. What is God doing, anyway? He says He loves us. He calls us to pray and promises to answer. He says He cares about our cares. So why isn't He doing anything? The suffering itself gets layered with the weight of hopelessness, cynicism, despair.
The enemy would just love for us to take the lie, hook, line, and sinker: This is all totally pointless.
There are plenty of times when we can't actually see what God is up to in the middle of our trial. So let's build an arsenal of evidence, a smorgasbord of possibilities, a pile of reasons to stand in confidence in the middle of the pain.
What might God be doing in your difficulty, your pain and loss, your suffering? Here is a sampling of 31 possibilities from God's word (one for every day of the month!):
But sometimes in our weakness, in our suffering and pain, the reality that God is in charge .... that He could change this in a second if He chose ... that He is the hand giving the hardship ... it brings its own temptation to question and wonder. What is God doing, anyway? He says He loves us. He calls us to pray and promises to answer. He says He cares about our cares. So why isn't He doing anything? The suffering itself gets layered with the weight of hopelessness, cynicism, despair.
The enemy would just love for us to take the lie, hook, line, and sinker: This is all totally pointless.
There are plenty of times when we can't actually see what God is up to in the middle of our trial. So let's build an arsenal of evidence, a smorgasbord of possibilities, a pile of reasons to stand in confidence in the middle of the pain.
What might God be doing in your difficulty, your pain and loss, your suffering? Here is a sampling of 31 possibilities from God's word (one for every day of the month!):
- Starting a new church (Galatians 4:13)
- Giving an opportunity for someone else to love you like Jesus Christ Himself (Galatians 4:14)
- Blessing others (Galatians 4:15)
- Filling up what is lacking in Christ's afflictions for the sake of His body, the church (Colossians 1: 24)
- Producing even greater progress of the gospel (Philippians 1:12)
- Giving others far more courage to speak the word of God without fear (Philippians 1:14)
- Multiplying thanks to God by joining together many peoples' prayers for your help and deliverance (2 Corinthians 1:10-11)
- Comforting and saving others (2 Corinthians 1:6)
- Helping you learn God's statutes (Psalm 119:71)
- Helping you keep God's word (Psalm 119:67)
- Proving that God is with you in trouble (Psalm 91:15)
- Perfecting you (1 Peter 5:10)
- Confirming you (1 Peter 5:10)
- Strengthening you (1 Peter 5:10)
- Establishing you (1 Peter 5:10)
- Giving you the opportunity to entrust your soul to a faithful Creator in doing what is right (1 Peter 4:19)
- Testing you (1 Peter 4:12)
- Producing for you an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison (2 Corinthians 4:17)
- Granting approval so that you may receive the crown of life (James 1:12)
- Giving endurance (James 1:3)
- Making you perfect and complete, lacking in nothing (James 1:4)
- Protecting you from friendship with the world that would make you an enemy of God (James 4:4)
- Leading you to prayer (James 5:13)
- Giving a blessing (James 5:11)
- Giving you great reward in heaven (Matthew 5:12)
- Saving many, many lives (Genesis 50:20)
- Allowing you to receive comfort so that you may give comfort to others in their suffering (2 Corinthians 1:4)
- Proving the foundation of your life (Matthew 7:25)
- Disciplining you as His own precious child (Hebrews 12:7)
- Demonstrating to the watching world that you have a hope that is not based on circumstances or comfort (1 Peter 3:15)
- Overcoming the accuser of the brethren (Revelation 12:11)
Monday, September 25, 2017
'Tis So Sweet
You know the saying, "When it rains, it pours." Yeah, and it's truth too.
Last week, for example.
My back began hurting.
The washer broke.
Our neighbor delivered some horribly sad and troubling news about our friends across the street.
Our kitchen light stopped working.
The dryer vent came unplugged from the wall.
My tongue hurt.
Rebellion and hardness of heart seemed the prevailing attitude of one of our children.
Our youngest son screamed for two and a half hours after being put to bed one night.
My husband and son saw a mouse run across the kitchen floor.
I experienced nights of lying awake for hours, unable to sleep.
This particular list of experiences may not match your own, but I don't doubt you have walked through a similar season of "why is everything going wrong?"
And what does that do to our heart?
If you are like me, the instinctive response is an ugly combination of fear, frustration, anger, questioning, and self-pity. Sometimes bitterness, jealousy of others (who may have had a good day), and unkindness join the mix. To be honest, I can even feel justified in shaking my fist at God or lashing out at the people in closest proximity to me because, well, this is really yucky.
It is not natural to me to stop for a moment and reflect on the purposes of God in it all. But in his remarkable mercy, God has chosen to speak to his people. And in his word, he even gives us some sweet glimpses of his behind-the-scenes purposes when we encounter this colorful kaleidoscope of trouble.
At the bottom of our struggle comes a beautiful promise, a promise told and reiterated throughout the Bible.
For I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus.--Philippians 1:6
And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose. For those whom He foreknew, He also predestined to become conformed to the image of His Son, so that He would be the firstborn among many brethren.--Romans 8:28-29
Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.--James 1:2-4
In this you greatly rejoice, even though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been distressed by various trials, so that the proof of your faith, being more precious than gold which is perishable, even though tested by fire, may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.--1 Peter 1:6-7
For this slight, momentary affliction is preparing for you an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things which 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
It seems that, despite our instinct to trust our senses--our ability to see and make sense of all we encounter--God prizes and purposes to craft within us faith ... an ability to rest in him, hope in him, and trust him when the lights go out.
And while these "pop quizzes" of faith may not be the gift of grace that we would choose given alternate options, with the lens of truth God can help us receive them as a sweet opportunity to grow in trusting Christ.
Last week, for example.
My back began hurting.
The washer broke.
Our neighbor delivered some horribly sad and troubling news about our friends across the street.
Our kitchen light stopped working.
The dryer vent came unplugged from the wall.
My tongue hurt.
Rebellion and hardness of heart seemed the prevailing attitude of one of our children.
Our youngest son screamed for two and a half hours after being put to bed one night.
My husband and son saw a mouse run across the kitchen floor.
I experienced nights of lying awake for hours, unable to sleep.
This particular list of experiences may not match your own, but I don't doubt you have walked through a similar season of "why is everything going wrong?"
And what does that do to our heart?
If you are like me, the instinctive response is an ugly combination of fear, frustration, anger, questioning, and self-pity. Sometimes bitterness, jealousy of others (who may have had a good day), and unkindness join the mix. To be honest, I can even feel justified in shaking my fist at God or lashing out at the people in closest proximity to me because, well, this is really yucky.
It is not natural to me to stop for a moment and reflect on the purposes of God in it all. But in his remarkable mercy, God has chosen to speak to his people. And in his word, he even gives us some sweet glimpses of his behind-the-scenes purposes when we encounter this colorful kaleidoscope of trouble.
At the bottom of our struggle comes a beautiful promise, a promise told and reiterated throughout the Bible.
For I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus.--Philippians 1:6
And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose. For those whom He foreknew, He also predestined to become conformed to the image of His Son, so that He would be the firstborn among many brethren.--Romans 8:28-29
Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.--James 1:2-4
In this you greatly rejoice, even though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been distressed by various trials, so that the proof of your faith, being more precious than gold which is perishable, even though tested by fire, may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.--1 Peter 1:6-7
For this slight, momentary affliction is preparing for you an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things which 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
It seems that, despite our instinct to trust our senses--our ability to see and make sense of all we encounter--God prizes and purposes to craft within us faith ... an ability to rest in him, hope in him, and trust him when the lights go out.
And while these "pop quizzes" of faith may not be the gift of grace that we would choose given alternate options, with the lens of truth God can help us receive them as a sweet opportunity to grow in trusting Christ.
Wednesday, April 12, 2017
Stomach Flu
We had just arrived at Como Zoo to meet some friends when Victor said his tummy hurt.
Go potty. Walk a little. Sit on a bench. He would crouch down between exhibits. Not good.
But he rallied after some pretzels, ate a decent lunch, said his tummy was feeling better, went potty again, and came home for a nap.
At 3:30, he came out (with vomit dripping down an arm and leg) and let us know he had spit up.
Oh, Stomach Flu. You are such a never-welcome guest here.
3:30pm.
4:30pm.
6:00pm.
7:15pm.
9:00pm.
11:00pm.
11:53pm.
12:55am.
Then Josiah started.
2:00am.
3:15am.
3:55am.
4:38am.
5:36am.
8:01am.
9:40am.
I'm just not sure how many loads of laundry we ran in the past 24 hours. (Josiah, in particular, is not a particularly good aim.)
I have a pretty good idea how much sleep I got, but I don't want to dwell on it.
The harbinger cough. The call. The retching, even after the belly is empty. Oh, you are a terrible thing. A picture of our awful Fall.
But on the other hand.
How thankful I am for a washer and dryer, so easily available.
I'm so glad neither of the boys got terribly dehydrated.
Only 10 hours apiece. Really not so bad.
Elliot has been spared, thus far.
Ben was able to help with a fair bit of it all.
We still have a few days before welcoming family and friends here for Easter.
I had a mental flash, sometime in the night, of the scourge of ebola that loomed so large a while ago. I could imagine the horrific dread that must have fallen on mommas and caregivers with the first signs of sickness. In comparison, o Stomach Flu, I could indeed nearly call you a friend.
And this week of all weeks, we remember our great Hero, who stepped into our Fall-tainted world and wore a flesh that was susceptible to the flu bug, the bite of a thorn, the explosion of pain that a nail could produce.
Victor over sin and death. Firstborn from the grave. Promise of coming joy. Thank You.
Go potty. Walk a little. Sit on a bench. He would crouch down between exhibits. Not good.
But he rallied after some pretzels, ate a decent lunch, said his tummy was feeling better, went potty again, and came home for a nap.
At 3:30, he came out (with vomit dripping down an arm and leg) and let us know he had spit up.
Oh, Stomach Flu. You are such a never-welcome guest here.
3:30pm.
4:30pm.
6:00pm.
7:15pm.
9:00pm.
11:00pm.
11:53pm.
12:55am.
Then Josiah started.
2:00am.
3:15am.
3:55am.
4:38am.
5:36am.
8:01am.
9:40am.
I'm just not sure how many loads of laundry we ran in the past 24 hours. (Josiah, in particular, is not a particularly good aim.)
I have a pretty good idea how much sleep I got, but I don't want to dwell on it.
The harbinger cough. The call. The retching, even after the belly is empty. Oh, you are a terrible thing. A picture of our awful Fall.
But on the other hand.
How thankful I am for a washer and dryer, so easily available.
I'm so glad neither of the boys got terribly dehydrated.
Only 10 hours apiece. Really not so bad.
Elliot has been spared, thus far.
Ben was able to help with a fair bit of it all.
We still have a few days before welcoming family and friends here for Easter.
I had a mental flash, sometime in the night, of the scourge of ebola that loomed so large a while ago. I could imagine the horrific dread that must have fallen on mommas and caregivers with the first signs of sickness. In comparison, o Stomach Flu, I could indeed nearly call you a friend.
And this week of all weeks, we remember our great Hero, who stepped into our Fall-tainted world and wore a flesh that was susceptible to the flu bug, the bite of a thorn, the explosion of pain that a nail could produce.
Victor over sin and death. Firstborn from the grave. Promise of coming joy. Thank You.
Sunday, July 10, 2016
Past Few Days
In short form, the past few days:
Visit to Grammy and Grandad's.
Linn County Fair... little train ride, farm animals, tractors.
Splash pad, picnics, playgrounds.
Visit with Aunt Sue and Grandma Vaupel.
Trip to Stillwater...seeing the lift bridge, super fun playground, DQ.
Picnic after church with the Kattersons.
4th of July... breakfast with Nana and Grandpa David, parade, potluck with friends.
More playgrounds and picnics.
Summer Bible study on Noah.
Barnabas team meeting with the Indehars.
Celebrating Aunt Laura's birthday at the Kattersons.
Trip to Hastings... biking, picnic, super fun playground.
That is a snapshot of the past few days for us. Lovely, refreshing, delightful days.
But these days have not been so for everyone. We have seen such horrible, shocking loss of life in these past few days. We grieve at the loss of our neighbors with skin of a different color, grieve for law enforcement officers killed in service. Many are shaken by these events, confused and uncertain.
I was running and praying yesterday and was struck by a few clear thoughts.
First, there is great trouble in our country. And when I look for the source, the wellspring, I am pierced to admit it is my own heart. I have belittling thoughts of others. I apply false judgments based on preconceived notions. I harbor fear and pride and selfishness. I think greatly of myself and too little of our great Maker and King. I make myself judge, jury, and executor (though perhaps only in my mind) of others.
When I take the Lord's Table during church, in a quiet sanctuary full of others, I have a vivid reminder that I myself--I, first--crush and consume that little cracker that represents Jesus' body. I, first, require the blood of the absolutely innocent. In my presumption, in my self-absorption, I am the guilty one, and He took my place.
Second, there is a great hope offered to me and to all. Jesus died to bridge the greatest divide, to unite the two most disparate entities in the universe--holy God and sinful people. The agonies of this week have no man-made balm. And the turmoil that stirs in the hearts and minds of our nation (and all the nations) can find rest only in a story that stretches far past this brief life. The story of ransom, justice, and mercy will shine in perfect glory one day. All people share a common, absolute need. A need to hear of this hope. And we have the blood-bought privilege of sharing it.
We do not pass strangers on the street. We pass neighbors. They all equally need a Savior, all fall short of the glory of God. All are made in the beautiful image of God. All wear the wounds of sin (their own and others). All have a story, bear a burden. Lord, help us to be more like Jesus, who saw people as persons and perceived the needs of each heart. Make us quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger. And give us, Your people, winsome, salty, bright love in a foggy world that needs You so.
Tuesday, May 24, 2016
The Song We Will Sing
There is a song we will sing one day,
That will set our hearts aflame with joy.
A song we cannot finish yet
But one day will. One day we will.
There is a song we will sing one day
About the pain that breaks our hearts.
The notes are bitter, aching pain,
The song we sing, unfinished song,
The song that groans and weeps today.
There is a song we sing today
Of unfinished stories, empty arms,
A song about the dreams that broke,
The hope that flew to somewhere else,
The end of what never began.
There is a song we will sing one day
Triumphant, tender, full of awe,
A tragedy turned inside out
And set to song, a soaring song.
There is a song we will sing one day,
Sing together, laugh out loud
At how impossibly beautiful
He made our song, our final song.
That will set our hearts aflame with joy.
A song we cannot finish yet
But one day will. One day we will.
There is a song we will sing one day
About the pain that breaks our hearts.
The notes are bitter, aching pain,
The song we sing, unfinished song,
The song that groans and weeps today.
There is a song we sing today
Of unfinished stories, empty arms,
A song about the dreams that broke,
The hope that flew to somewhere else,
The end of what never began.
There is a song we will sing one day
Triumphant, tender, full of awe,
A tragedy turned inside out
And set to song, a soaring song.
There is a song we will sing one day,
Sing together, laugh out loud
At how impossibly beautiful
He made our song, our final song.
Wednesday, November 4, 2015
Good News in Romans 8
In Christ...
- We have no condemnation (1)
- We are free from the law of sin and death (2)
- Christ fulfilled the requirement of the Law for us (4)
- We may set our mind on the things of the Spirit and find life and peace (5)
- We belong to Christ (9)
- Our spirit is alive because of righteousness (10)
- Life will be granted to our mortal bodies (11)
- We are not under obligation to live according to the flesh, which leads to death (12)
- We may put to death the deeds of the body by the Spirit, and live (13)
- We are sons of God (14)
- We have received a spirit of adoption as sons, by which we may call, "Abba! Father!" (15)
- The Spirit confirms with our spirit that we are children of God, and thus heirs with Christ (16)
- Our sufferings with Christ confirm that we will also be glorified with Christ (17)
- Great glory will be revealed to us (18)
- We eagerly wait for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our body (23)
- We are saved in hope, knowing that we will see the full reality one day (24-25)
- The Spirit helps us and intercedes for us (26)
- God causes everything to work together for our good, to conform us to Christ's likeness (28-29)
- We are predestined, called, justified, and glorified (30)
- God is for us (31)
- God justifies us (33)
- Christ intercedes for us (34)
- Suffering cannot thwart Christ's love for us (36)
- We overwhelmingly conquer through Christ (37)
- We are utterly inseparable from God's love in Christ, now and forever (38-39)
Saturday, August 29, 2015
Thinking True Things
September is almost here. Ben's first week of classes is done (aand... he's feeling that familiar sensation of homework overload again/already).
I love fall.
But, today I'm feeling kinda melancholy.
The school year feels a little lonely after the long and lovely weeks of summer, having Ben here and available so much. And I miss my sisters (especially with my little sister walking this crazy road of Guillain-Berra). And there's a lot of hurt in a lot of people.
So, some words of truth to hang onto.
He does not delight in the strength of the horse; He does not take pleasure in the legs of a man. The LORD delights in those who fear Him, who put their hope in His unfailing love. (Psalm 147:10-11, half NASB, half NIV)
The LORD is righteous in all His ways, and kind in all His deeds. The LORD is near to all who call upon Him, to all who call upon Him in truth. He will fulfill the desire of those who fear Him; He will also hear their cry and will save them. (Psalm 145:17-19)
Therefore, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that your toil is not in vain in the Lord. (1 Corinthians 15:58)
Let us not lose heart in doing good, for in due time we will reap if we do not grow weary. So then, while we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, and especially to those who are of the household of the faith. (Galatians 6:9-10)
What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who is against us? He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him over for us all, how will He not also with Him freely give us all things? (Romans 8:31-32)
And something I read earlier and wanted to remember:
I love fall.
But, today I'm feeling kinda melancholy.
The school year feels a little lonely after the long and lovely weeks of summer, having Ben here and available so much. And I miss my sisters (especially with my little sister walking this crazy road of Guillain-Berra). And there's a lot of hurt in a lot of people.
So, some words of truth to hang onto.
He does not delight in the strength of the horse; He does not take pleasure in the legs of a man. The LORD delights in those who fear Him, who put their hope in His unfailing love. (Psalm 147:10-11, half NASB, half NIV)
The LORD is righteous in all His ways, and kind in all His deeds. The LORD is near to all who call upon Him, to all who call upon Him in truth. He will fulfill the desire of those who fear Him; He will also hear their cry and will save them. (Psalm 145:17-19)
Therefore, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that your toil is not in vain in the Lord. (1 Corinthians 15:58)
Let us not lose heart in doing good, for in due time we will reap if we do not grow weary. So then, while we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, and especially to those who are of the household of the faith. (Galatians 6:9-10)
What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who is against us? He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him over for us all, how will He not also with Him freely give us all things? (Romans 8:31-32)
And something I read earlier and wanted to remember:
When we suffer, we long for God to speak clearly, to tell us the end of the story and, most of all, to show himself. But if he showed himself fully and immediately, if he answered all the questions, we'd never grow; we'd never emerge from our chrysalis because we'd be forever dependent. ... No one works like him. He is such a lover of souls. (Miller, The Praying Life, p 193-194)
Sunday, July 19, 2015
The Grace of the Lord Jesus Christ
For several months I have been picking my way through Philippians. Today I'm at the very last verse:
What is this grace?
I would say it is the grace He purchased dying on the cross for us.
We deserved hell, and the only way God could give us anything better and still be a just God is if the punishment were taken by a perfect substitute.
There was certainly no perfect substitute in this world. Just a planet full of deceivers, self-centered cravers, haters, and comfort worshipers.
So God sent God into the world, His Son, a little, helpless, bloody baby. He didn't get the welcome He deserved. He got the welcome typical of a bunch of self-centered haters and idolaters.
He lived 33 years, not easy years.
At the cross, the written record of our debts against a holy God were pinned on Jesus.
And at the resurrection, God blazened "Paid in Full" across that note.
Then the second half of grace comes in.
Where God looks at us cloaked in the cape of Christ's own goodness.
His charity.
His patience.
His zeal for God's name.
His tenderness to the needy.
His gladness.
His humble service.
His loyalty to the Father.
His self-forgetfulness.
His quiet receiving of God's will.
His ceaseless prayer.
His true care for others.
His peace.
His faithfulness.
His self-control.
His tremendous courage.
Applied to us in Christ.
And we are accepted, welcomed in, adopted, granted full access to the throne.
Never treated as we deserve ever again.
Destined for a future of God's matchless power bent toward us for our good, in a demonstration of His glory.
And for those in the Lord Jesus Christ, it is with us, to our very heart of hearts.
The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit. (Phil. 4:23)"The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ."
What is this grace?
I would say it is the grace He purchased dying on the cross for us.
We deserved hell, and the only way God could give us anything better and still be a just God is if the punishment were taken by a perfect substitute.
There was certainly no perfect substitute in this world. Just a planet full of deceivers, self-centered cravers, haters, and comfort worshipers.
So God sent God into the world, His Son, a little, helpless, bloody baby. He didn't get the welcome He deserved. He got the welcome typical of a bunch of self-centered haters and idolaters.
He lived 33 years, not easy years.
For He grew up before Him like a tender shoot, and like a root out of parched ground; He has no stately form or majesty that we should look upon Him, nor appearance that we should be attracted to Him. (Is. 53:2).He did not catch our eye, since He did not have good looks, a winsome way of spinning popular opinion, or a magnetizing persona. He had God's own perfection--which we found unimpressive and non-compelling.
He was despised and forsaken of men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief, and like one from whom men hide their face, He was despised, and we did not esteem Him. (Is 53:3)We esteem the charmed life. We love to look at--and covet--those whose fortunes fall to them sweetly. We'd prefer to ignore a tragic story, lest it be contagious and we catch it. If we do notice, we offer one diagnosis: he got what he deserved.
Surely our griefs He Himself bore, and our sorrows He carried. Yet we ourselves esteemed Him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted (Is. 53:4).Truth be told, He got what we deserved. He joined our broken world and absorbed in Himself all the shards of pain and punishment that should have sliced through us.
But He was pierced through for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the chastening for our well-being fell upon Him, and by His wounds we are healed. All of us like sheep have gone astray, but the LORD has caused the iniquity of us all to fall on Him. (Is. 53:5-6)What a staggering cost for this grace. What an immeasurable purchase.
At the cross, the written record of our debts against a holy God were pinned on Jesus.
And at the resurrection, God blazened "Paid in Full" across that note.
Then the second half of grace comes in.
Where God looks at us cloaked in the cape of Christ's own goodness.
His charity.
His patience.
His zeal for God's name.
His tenderness to the needy.
His gladness.
His humble service.
His loyalty to the Father.
His self-forgetfulness.
His quiet receiving of God's will.
His ceaseless prayer.
His true care for others.
His peace.
His faithfulness.
His self-control.
His tremendous courage.
Applied to us in Christ.
And we are accepted, welcomed in, adopted, granted full access to the throne.
Never treated as we deserve ever again.
Destined for a future of God's matchless power bent toward us for our good, in a demonstration of His glory.
...so that in the ages to come He might show the surpassing riches of His grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. (Eph. 2:7)This is a mighty grace.
And for those in the Lord Jesus Christ, it is with us, to our very heart of hearts.
The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit. (Phil. 4:23).Amen.
Wednesday, June 24, 2015
Let Me Count the Ways
Graces in the midst of sorrow.
- Sweet sisters to walk through the pain with. Not just rhetorically, but really. Friends who have walked this road before. My sister Betsy found out she was miscarrying on the same day, baby due within days of ours. It was not better, having that loss on top of our own. But it was so clearly not accidental. Not random. God at work, doing something behind the scenes that we will see in clarity one day.
- Parents who do not wait to be asked to help. They drove 3/4 of the way back to MN with me so that I wouldn't have to make the drive with the boys on my own.
- Prayers of many, many people. This is a lifeline.
- Encouragement that sharing our pain blessed others. This was my prayer.
- Victor, on Sunday driving home from a little family Father's Day outing to Stillwater, asks from his seat in the van, "When do you think we'll have another little baby?"
Quiet pause.
I said, "I don't know, honey. I don't know when God will give us another little baby. Do you think we should pray that He would give us another little baby in our family?"
"Yes," Victor says.
Then he says, "I want to pray now."
So we did.
It was balm to my heart - My mother-in-law sent us an email, praying that Psalm 30 would be a comfort to us. It has been a psalm to study the past several days, and meant so much, coming from her.
- Friends willing to watch the boys or bring a meal or invite us over when I'm not really lively company. Ben willing to put aside his plans when I was too weak to do what I normally do. Burden bearers.
Tuesday, June 23, 2015
Divinely Appointed
It's always been a consolation to think that God is continually purposeful, doing millions of things hidden and secret, in the middle of what seems to be big trouble or unanswered prayer.
Sometimes we groan to know some of what He is doing, how He could weave something good from this pain.
At least one thing: proving faith.
Gold is tested by fire. Faith is tested by trials. If I don't throw in the towel, if walking through junk doesn't blow away my confidence in who God says He is, it's because my faith, as wimpy and weak as it sometimes seems, is guarded by the power of God (1 Peter 1:5). That's a comfort.
And the trials come "for a little while." And only "if necessary." God is measures them out for our own special good.
Just preaching this all to myself right now.
Sometimes we groan to know some of what He is doing, how He could weave something good from this pain.
In this you greatly rejoice, even though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been distressed by various trials, so that the proof of your faith, being more precious than gold which is perishable, even though tested by fire, may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.--1 Peter 1:6-7
At least one thing: proving faith.
Gold is tested by fire. Faith is tested by trials. If I don't throw in the towel, if walking through junk doesn't blow away my confidence in who God says He is, it's because my faith, as wimpy and weak as it sometimes seems, is guarded by the power of God (1 Peter 1:5). That's a comfort.
And the trials come "for a little while." And only "if necessary." God is measures them out for our own special good.
"God sees your life--has seen its future, its weakness, its underdevelopment--and He's deemed this particular trial at this particular time necessary. It comes to you with premeditation and forethought, designed specifically for you, which is to say that it is not random.
"'For a little while' communicates that though God allowed Thing One and Thing Two to turn your life upside down, He has never let them off their leash. ...
"All trials, hardship, and suffering come into the life of the believer with divine permission and forethought; they'll last exactly as long as they were planned to last."
Just preaching this all to myself right now.
Half-Completed Surgery
"We need to persevere through these trials if we are to derive benefit from them. Like a half-completed surgery, a half-completed trial is of zero value--even less than zero. ... So God goes to great lengths, encouraging us through His Spirit and through the Word so we stay on the operating table long enough to accomplish His good purposes" (A Million Ways to Die, 151).
So, Lord, I'm here. Feeling half-ripped-open and I missed the anesthesiologist.
I don't really have great endurance. I am afraid I would bail on this if I knew how. But, in Your kindness, You haven't left me an eject button.
So, would You please bring me through?
Hear, O LORD, and be gracious to me; O LORD, be my helper.
Psalm 30:10
How I need a Helper.
Helping me press on.
Helping me remember.
Helping me escape my own small world and see others around me.
I'm holding Psalm 30:11 as a promise.
You have turned for me my mourning into dancing;
You have loosed my sackcloth and girded me with gladness,
That my soul may sing praise to You
And not be silent.
May it be, Lord, may it be.
Saturday, June 20, 2015
A Letter to My Little One
Dear little one,
We officially confirmed your presence a week ago Tuesday,
but I knew (at least suspected) you were here for about a month.
A gentle stirring within.
Growing, knitting, living.
We were so overjoyed, so enthralled,
A quiet, secret joy.
A Valentine’s Day baby, maybe.
A new precious girl?
Or another sweet brother?
A gift to us.
You were a gift to us.
You are a gift to us.
We loved you so, so much.
But God gives different gifts.
And this one, for us, He gave and took away.
He is our kind Father.
Our hearts break for such a short hello
And too soon good-bye.
Another baby, squirming, bloody,
Plunged into this broken world.
He lived pure,
Took my blow,
And rose to redeem
Our too soon good-byes.
So good-bye for now, little sweetheart,
Until we meet again.
Love,
Your momma
Wednesday, March 18, 2015
To the Hospital and Back Again
It started fairly innocently.
Victor called me at 3am during the night on Saturday. I was going to tell him firmly that he needed to stop calling Momma and just sleep the rest of the night (we've been having quite a few wake-ups of late), but then I put my hand in something sticky on his bed.
Did you have yucky tummy, Bud?
Yes.
That's a good reason to call Mommy.
So I slept on the trundle in his room, and he had another throw up during the night. But he seemed pretty bright by morning and was taking sips of water and juice while we sent Daddy off to church and hung out together.
He even got half a piece of toast down, bite by bite, still feeling good through mid-day.
In the afternoon he threw up all the toast and juice.
I started the night on the trundle. And then realized I had my own yucky tummy. So Ben took the trundle, and I threw up five times through the night and was done with it. Rested and slept most of the day on Monday.
Victor threw up three times Sunday night ... and three times Monday morning. And then every hour in the afternoon. And then every half hour. After many calls to the pediatrician, hoping for a cancellation to bring Victor in to be seen in the evening, we decided to take Victor to the ER.
I fed Josiah and put him to bed, and then we bundled up and picked up Nana, who offered to go with me and Victor (bless her heart!). She drove so I could hold Victor's hand next to him in the back and hold the puke bucket.
The emergency room at Children's was packed. My heart just sank to see so many. But we were evaluated right away and settled in while Ben called around to the other children's hospitals to see if they might offer a shorter wait.
In the end, we gutted it out (how fitting that phrase!) until Victor was called back around 11:30pm. It was heart-wrenching, seeing him wretch and heave and then lie back and ask (in his most polite way) if he could please have a sip of juice. Over and over, he asked for juice, the poor boy, but he was throwing up too often to give him anything. He threw up 6 times in the waiting room.
By the time the doctor came he looked just terrible, pretty much the picture of all the bullet points next to the "dehydration" list on the hospital pamphlets ... eyes sunken, confused, limp, tired. He was asleep when I carried him back to our ER room and didn't wake up til we settled on the gurney together.
I was really nervous how he would do with the IV pokes. He's had a hard time the last few doctor visits where he got shots. But I prayed and sang and covered his eyes and talked about going to Grammy's house ... and he did perfect for the first poke (when they used a numbing medicine).
That vein blew. And the nurse said she couldn't numb anymore, because it made the veins more fragile. We talked about the purple popsicle he could eat after the medicine and water started going into his body.
He didn't even whimper for the second poke. That one blew too. So they called in reinforcements (a great big man who was the lead nurse in ER that night).
They thought the third poke had worked. But then when they started putting the meds in, it blew. Victor was still quiet, probably a combination of the Holy Spirit's kind intervention and his depleted condition...
For the fourth poke, they had to use Victor's hand (very painful), and I felt him wince when the needle went in. But he still didn't even wimper, and that IV held. That was when I could feel myself relaxing.
After 10 minutes, as promised, a huge purple popsicle was delivered, and Victor happily gobbled down morsel by morsel (I set my timer for 5 minutes between bites to begin). Then he asked for sips juice AND water.
At 1:30am the doctor came back and told us that Victor's blood work showed he was so far behind she was having him admitted. And she didn't know if he would even be ready to go home by the morning.
We sent Nana home then (what a gift she was to us!), and Victor and I got to ride together on a rolling bed ("It's kind of like my trundle!" he said) through the halls and up the elevator to the 7th floor. Finally Victor slept around 2am.
I was too keyed up to sleep. I talked with the doctor when he came around 3am. He recommended not bringing Josiah to the hospital so I could nurse him (since that's where all those bugs are that send people to the hospital). Victor was restless and would roll around and whimper frequently in his sleep. I had the nurse check his hand, which seemed to be bothering him, but everything was still good there.
Finally at 6am (as usual) he woke up and wanted to eat. I said we'd have to ask the nurse, and (when asked), he requested and was granted another purple popsicle.
At 7am, Ben brought Josiah to me, and I left him with Victor to feed Joey, take him home for a nap, and then figure out what to do. As it turned out, my parents headed up to help us out, so I was able to deliver Josiah to friends and re-join Victor and Ben in the early afternoon, and Grammy and Grandad picked up Josiah to put him down for his nap without me (a first for J ... the silly boy doesn't take a bottle).
The doctor was still not sure Victor was ready to go home, and then he had some major diarrhea, and it was settled that he would stay another night. Grammy kindly offered to stay overnight with him (I was pretty blitzed), and by this morning he was bouncing around the room and ready to come home.
Once again, God has been faithful and kind. We have another Ebenezer to look back on. Thanks, all who have prayed for us.
Victor called me at 3am during the night on Saturday. I was going to tell him firmly that he needed to stop calling Momma and just sleep the rest of the night (we've been having quite a few wake-ups of late), but then I put my hand in something sticky on his bed.
Did you have yucky tummy, Bud?
Yes.
That's a good reason to call Mommy.
So I slept on the trundle in his room, and he had another throw up during the night. But he seemed pretty bright by morning and was taking sips of water and juice while we sent Daddy off to church and hung out together.
He even got half a piece of toast down, bite by bite, still feeling good through mid-day.
In the afternoon he threw up all the toast and juice.
I started the night on the trundle. And then realized I had my own yucky tummy. So Ben took the trundle, and I threw up five times through the night and was done with it. Rested and slept most of the day on Monday.
Victor threw up three times Sunday night ... and three times Monday morning. And then every hour in the afternoon. And then every half hour. After many calls to the pediatrician, hoping for a cancellation to bring Victor in to be seen in the evening, we decided to take Victor to the ER.
I fed Josiah and put him to bed, and then we bundled up and picked up Nana, who offered to go with me and Victor (bless her heart!). She drove so I could hold Victor's hand next to him in the back and hold the puke bucket.
The emergency room at Children's was packed. My heart just sank to see so many. But we were evaluated right away and settled in while Ben called around to the other children's hospitals to see if they might offer a shorter wait.
In the end, we gutted it out (how fitting that phrase!) until Victor was called back around 11:30pm. It was heart-wrenching, seeing him wretch and heave and then lie back and ask (in his most polite way) if he could please have a sip of juice. Over and over, he asked for juice, the poor boy, but he was throwing up too often to give him anything. He threw up 6 times in the waiting room.
By the time the doctor came he looked just terrible, pretty much the picture of all the bullet points next to the "dehydration" list on the hospital pamphlets ... eyes sunken, confused, limp, tired. He was asleep when I carried him back to our ER room and didn't wake up til we settled on the gurney together.
I was really nervous how he would do with the IV pokes. He's had a hard time the last few doctor visits where he got shots. But I prayed and sang and covered his eyes and talked about going to Grammy's house ... and he did perfect for the first poke (when they used a numbing medicine).
That vein blew. And the nurse said she couldn't numb anymore, because it made the veins more fragile. We talked about the purple popsicle he could eat after the medicine and water started going into his body.
He didn't even whimper for the second poke. That one blew too. So they called in reinforcements (a great big man who was the lead nurse in ER that night).
They thought the third poke had worked. But then when they started putting the meds in, it blew. Victor was still quiet, probably a combination of the Holy Spirit's kind intervention and his depleted condition...
For the fourth poke, they had to use Victor's hand (very painful), and I felt him wince when the needle went in. But he still didn't even wimper, and that IV held. That was when I could feel myself relaxing.
After 10 minutes, as promised, a huge purple popsicle was delivered, and Victor happily gobbled down morsel by morsel (I set my timer for 5 minutes between bites to begin). Then he asked for sips juice AND water.
At 1:30am the doctor came back and told us that Victor's blood work showed he was so far behind she was having him admitted. And she didn't know if he would even be ready to go home by the morning.
We sent Nana home then (what a gift she was to us!), and Victor and I got to ride together on a rolling bed ("It's kind of like my trundle!" he said) through the halls and up the elevator to the 7th floor. Finally Victor slept around 2am.
I was too keyed up to sleep. I talked with the doctor when he came around 3am. He recommended not bringing Josiah to the hospital so I could nurse him (since that's where all those bugs are that send people to the hospital). Victor was restless and would roll around and whimper frequently in his sleep. I had the nurse check his hand, which seemed to be bothering him, but everything was still good there.
Finally at 6am (as usual) he woke up and wanted to eat. I said we'd have to ask the nurse, and (when asked), he requested and was granted another purple popsicle.
At 7am, Ben brought Josiah to me, and I left him with Victor to feed Joey, take him home for a nap, and then figure out what to do. As it turned out, my parents headed up to help us out, so I was able to deliver Josiah to friends and re-join Victor and Ben in the early afternoon, and Grammy and Grandad picked up Josiah to put him down for his nap without me (a first for J ... the silly boy doesn't take a bottle).
The doctor was still not sure Victor was ready to go home, and then he had some major diarrhea, and it was settled that he would stay another night. Grammy kindly offered to stay overnight with him (I was pretty blitzed), and by this morning he was bouncing around the room and ready to come home.
Once again, God has been faithful and kind. We have another Ebenezer to look back on. Thanks, all who have prayed for us.
Monday, April 21, 2014
Mothering: Hold On, Let Go
When life hits a big bend in the road, it definitely illuminates the things you most prize.
Security.
Comfort.
Predictability.
Productivity.
Receiving the gift of a child comes as a package deal: priceless soft skin, sweet milk dribbling from the corner of a little mouth, painful wake-up calls every 3 hours (or sooner), soft cooing, diaper rash, spit-up, teeny-tiny newborn sleepers, inexplicable bloody screaming, and general upheaval from whatever used to be normal.
Having a couple of those packages now, I see something of what 1 Timothy 2:15 was talking about: But women will be preserved through the bearing of children if they continue in faith and love and sanctity with self-restraint.
Of course, no woman is saved by having a baby... all that pain and blood and exhaustion is not redemptive in itself. But to continue in faith and love and sanctity, with self-restraint... to walk the hard (and very sweet... but very hard) road of coughs and food allergies and mastitis and temper tantrums and potty training and sometimes unrelenting 24-hour duty of caring for small people who are vulnerable, immature, and needy... it presses one down to the very bottom of self-sufficiency and into trust in the One who is bigger.
Every family has its stories of blood, sweat, and gore, when absolutely everything was more than they could handle (stomach flu, finals, colic, joblessness, bankruptcy, insomnia, allergies... often all piled together). Families are, perhaps, destined to wear the brokenness of this world like war wounds; almost killed us, survived by a hair, stronger now.
And even when the times are good, parenting is full of heartache.
Just look at how big the kids are getting. Feel the good-bye on the horizon (in 18 years or sometime sooner), when your season of care is over and God draws them onward to their own independent adventure in life. Your heart gets all braided together with the fibers of these small people, and in the end, God doesn't intend for them to stay with you. Perhaps a bit like Mary the mother of Jesus, every parent may feel the sword pierce your own heart whenever it strikes them... but you can't take it for them.
It calls for a particular kind of courage, the kind of gentle and quiet heart that will receive with an open hand all the good, the bad, and the ugly that God deems wise to send... and relinquish with an open hand when the season turns and something priceless has to be let go.
And in the process, I think God burns out a lot of selfishness and self-confidence and leaves us a bit more ready to call heaven home.
Security.
Comfort.
Predictability.
Productivity.
Receiving the gift of a child comes as a package deal: priceless soft skin, sweet milk dribbling from the corner of a little mouth, painful wake-up calls every 3 hours (or sooner), soft cooing, diaper rash, spit-up, teeny-tiny newborn sleepers, inexplicable bloody screaming, and general upheaval from whatever used to be normal.
Having a couple of those packages now, I see something of what 1 Timothy 2:15 was talking about: But women will be preserved through the bearing of children if they continue in faith and love and sanctity with self-restraint.
Of course, no woman is saved by having a baby... all that pain and blood and exhaustion is not redemptive in itself. But to continue in faith and love and sanctity, with self-restraint... to walk the hard (and very sweet... but very hard) road of coughs and food allergies and mastitis and temper tantrums and potty training and sometimes unrelenting 24-hour duty of caring for small people who are vulnerable, immature, and needy... it presses one down to the very bottom of self-sufficiency and into trust in the One who is bigger.
Every family has its stories of blood, sweat, and gore, when absolutely everything was more than they could handle (stomach flu, finals, colic, joblessness, bankruptcy, insomnia, allergies... often all piled together). Families are, perhaps, destined to wear the brokenness of this world like war wounds; almost killed us, survived by a hair, stronger now.
And even when the times are good, parenting is full of heartache.
Just look at how big the kids are getting. Feel the good-bye on the horizon (in 18 years or sometime sooner), when your season of care is over and God draws them onward to their own independent adventure in life. Your heart gets all braided together with the fibers of these small people, and in the end, God doesn't intend for them to stay with you. Perhaps a bit like Mary the mother of Jesus, every parent may feel the sword pierce your own heart whenever it strikes them... but you can't take it for them.
It calls for a particular kind of courage, the kind of gentle and quiet heart that will receive with an open hand all the good, the bad, and the ugly that God deems wise to send... and relinquish with an open hand when the season turns and something priceless has to be let go.
And in the process, I think God burns out a lot of selfishness and self-confidence and leaves us a bit more ready to call heaven home.
Monday, February 17, 2014
Kind of Catching Up
I've gotten so far behind I have begun subtly procrastinating about ever catching up on here.
But, here is a little window, so I'll try a bit anyway.
Back at the last weekend of January, Grammy and Grandad came up for a short but fabulous celebration of Victor's birthday.
We enjoyed supper at Pizza Ranch and played and played with Grammy and Grandad most of the rest of the time. It was less than 24 hours, but it was wonderful to see them!
The next week (last week of January) was rough. Victor was sick, and I started getting pukish again (at 32 weeks) in the evenings, Ben was totally swamped with school and work responsibilities, and my "go-to" help for Victor were all gone, sick, or busy. Friday Ben headed off for a weekend retreat with the young adults, and I was really hanging on to hope with my fingernails that it was going to go okay.
But, God showed Himself faithful again, and I didn't puke while I was on "lone ranger" duty. It was a hard weekend. But we had what we needed, grace for the day.
The next week was just a beautiful gift of healthy people all at home together. And then Saturday night Victor started coughing. That was the start of a horrible stretch, kind of (to me) a throwback to last April when he ended up in the ER. He was okay when he was up and around, but lying down for naps or nighttime he would just cough and cough and cough. I would hold him in the lazyboy for long stretches, which helped him somewhat, but it felt like a test of endurance that I wasn't sure I could win.
We found he had RSV, and we got some extra meds for the cough, but he still couldn't sleep as it transitioned to more head cold symptoms, with lots of phlegm and mucus choking him when he laid down.
But the real evidence of grace to me in the whole grueling affair was that my heart was in a far better place than when we walked through the same kind of thing last year. There was a little more grit to trust that God was for us and not ignoring us, that He would supply our needs, that He had something good for us in the middle of the struggle. And He did meet our needs.
The most amazing gift was having Dad drive Mom up on Wednesday afternoon (he stayed and chatted for 10 minutes and then headed back on the road to get to meetings back in Iowa that afternoon and evening). Grammy, amazing as she always is, was the very best medicine for us all! Victor was so delighted to have someone (besides an exhausted Mom) to play with, and she shooed me off to take naps whenever I didn't have to do something else.
On Friday, Grandad drove up again to retrieve Grammy, and by that time we were definitely coping better, albeit Victor still didn't sleep great for another day or two.
Saturday morning, Grandma K came to town! The great disappointment was having Victor still contagious, so we aren't able to spend time all together with the other Kattersons (especially with their baby Caleb). But we're having special times nonetheless and enjoying this rare treat of time with Ben's mom.
Well, in rambling fashion, I think that's the big stuff. Here we are in the middle of February, and heading down the home stretch til Baby Brother makes his appearance.
Praying and praying that God will give us all a strong, healthful month so we are ready to welcome him in our peak condition.
But, here is a little window, so I'll try a bit anyway.
Back at the last weekend of January, Grammy and Grandad came up for a short but fabulous celebration of Victor's birthday.
At last, he even got birthday cupcakes!
He loves his new book, truck, cars, backpack, and letter cards from Grammy and Grandad and the fun blocks from Uncle Brian and Auntie Betsy.
We enjoyed supper at Pizza Ranch and played and played with Grammy and Grandad most of the rest of the time. It was less than 24 hours, but it was wonderful to see them!
The next week (last week of January) was rough. Victor was sick, and I started getting pukish again (at 32 weeks) in the evenings, Ben was totally swamped with school and work responsibilities, and my "go-to" help for Victor were all gone, sick, or busy. Friday Ben headed off for a weekend retreat with the young adults, and I was really hanging on to hope with my fingernails that it was going to go okay.
But, God showed Himself faithful again, and I didn't puke while I was on "lone ranger" duty. It was a hard weekend. But we had what we needed, grace for the day.
The next week was just a beautiful gift of healthy people all at home together. And then Saturday night Victor started coughing. That was the start of a horrible stretch, kind of (to me) a throwback to last April when he ended up in the ER. He was okay when he was up and around, but lying down for naps or nighttime he would just cough and cough and cough. I would hold him in the lazyboy for long stretches, which helped him somewhat, but it felt like a test of endurance that I wasn't sure I could win.
We found he had RSV, and we got some extra meds for the cough, but he still couldn't sleep as it transitioned to more head cold symptoms, with lots of phlegm and mucus choking him when he laid down.
But the real evidence of grace to me in the whole grueling affair was that my heart was in a far better place than when we walked through the same kind of thing last year. There was a little more grit to trust that God was for us and not ignoring us, that He would supply our needs, that He had something good for us in the middle of the struggle. And He did meet our needs.
The most amazing gift was having Dad drive Mom up on Wednesday afternoon (he stayed and chatted for 10 minutes and then headed back on the road to get to meetings back in Iowa that afternoon and evening). Grammy, amazing as she always is, was the very best medicine for us all! Victor was so delighted to have someone (besides an exhausted Mom) to play with, and she shooed me off to take naps whenever I didn't have to do something else.
On Friday, Grandad drove up again to retrieve Grammy, and by that time we were definitely coping better, albeit Victor still didn't sleep great for another day or two.
Saturday morning, Grandma K came to town! The great disappointment was having Victor still contagious, so we aren't able to spend time all together with the other Kattersons (especially with their baby Caleb). But we're having special times nonetheless and enjoying this rare treat of time with Ben's mom.
Well, in rambling fashion, I think that's the big stuff. Here we are in the middle of February, and heading down the home stretch til Baby Brother makes his appearance.
Praying and praying that God will give us all a strong, healthful month so we are ready to welcome him in our peak condition.
Thursday, July 11, 2013
Weakness and Evangelism
This was a great word on how my personal weakness and ineptitude relate to sharing with others about Jesus. Encouraging. Convicting.
Monday, April 22, 2013
If It Doesn't Kill You
Looking at my calendar today, it struck me as odd that it was only 3 weeks ago that Ben had his birthday. It was only 2 weeks ago that we went to the emergency room. It was 1 week ago that we had our first sleeping-through-the-night again, post cold.
Victor and I went to Once Upon a Child today, to get some new shoes (since his toe is poking out of his current pair). He coughed once. I don't think I'm normally the paranoid type, but I will admit that to hear him cough makes my heart skip a beat. A month ago, when he was coming out of his first cold, I was telling someone at church that he had been sick and it had been pretty rough. He laughed at me (the first-time mom) and waved a hand, saying, "Amy, he'll be fine!"
I'm sure there is some first-time mom stress involved. But my experience of his two sick spells of late pressed me closer to excruciating than I have been for a very long time. More than one night, I lay in bed (or sat in the dark in the living room), listening for Victor, with the minutes ticking by in a helpless, agonizing struggle.
A week ago, he started perking up and showing us his old cheerful self, and I felt like I was panting, like I had been underwater until my lungs ached and finally gasped in some clean, pure air again. I was in recovery myself, I think, and not just from sleep deprivation.
1 Peter 1 says that God gives us various struggles for a little while--if necessary--for the proof of our faith. Maybe it's like weight-lifting (which, though you may find it difficult to believe, I participated in twice a week in high school). You bench press a comfortable weight to start out. Then you increase it for your second set. And often times, you'll finish by trying to max it--lift the greatest weight you can handle (which never took a whole lot for me).
After the last set, your arms are shaking. Your muscles are broken down and exhausted. (I remember some very awkward attempts to wash my hair post-workout, when I could barely get my arms up to my head.) But after you've rested for a day or two, you are stronger than you were before. As they say, if it doesn't kill you, it will make you stronger.
I don't know if I feel stronger yet. When I think about Victor getting sick again (and I know it's going to happen), I just feel limp inside. But God was faithful. And He will be faithful.
Last week I listened to this brief discussion with Pastor John on What Is Strong Biblical Womanhood?. He talks about the woman who laughs at the future (from Proverbs 31), who does what is right without being frightened by any fear (from 1 Peter 2). I want to be a woman like that.
I don't have strong faith. But I have a strong God. And since He's patient and wise and good, He doesn't give suffering to crush but to strengthen my faith. May it be.
Victor and I went to Once Upon a Child today, to get some new shoes (since his toe is poking out of his current pair). He coughed once. I don't think I'm normally the paranoid type, but I will admit that to hear him cough makes my heart skip a beat. A month ago, when he was coming out of his first cold, I was telling someone at church that he had been sick and it had been pretty rough. He laughed at me (the first-time mom) and waved a hand, saying, "Amy, he'll be fine!"
I'm sure there is some first-time mom stress involved. But my experience of his two sick spells of late pressed me closer to excruciating than I have been for a very long time. More than one night, I lay in bed (or sat in the dark in the living room), listening for Victor, with the minutes ticking by in a helpless, agonizing struggle.
A week ago, he started perking up and showing us his old cheerful self, and I felt like I was panting, like I had been underwater until my lungs ached and finally gasped in some clean, pure air again. I was in recovery myself, I think, and not just from sleep deprivation.
1 Peter 1 says that God gives us various struggles for a little while--if necessary--for the proof of our faith. Maybe it's like weight-lifting (which, though you may find it difficult to believe, I participated in twice a week in high school). You bench press a comfortable weight to start out. Then you increase it for your second set. And often times, you'll finish by trying to max it--lift the greatest weight you can handle (which never took a whole lot for me).
After the last set, your arms are shaking. Your muscles are broken down and exhausted. (I remember some very awkward attempts to wash my hair post-workout, when I could barely get my arms up to my head.) But after you've rested for a day or two, you are stronger than you were before. As they say, if it doesn't kill you, it will make you stronger.
I don't know if I feel stronger yet. When I think about Victor getting sick again (and I know it's going to happen), I just feel limp inside. But God was faithful. And He will be faithful.
Last week I listened to this brief discussion with Pastor John on What Is Strong Biblical Womanhood?. He talks about the woman who laughs at the future (from Proverbs 31), who does what is right without being frightened by any fear (from 1 Peter 2). I want to be a woman like that.
I don't have strong faith. But I have a strong God. And since He's patient and wise and good, He doesn't give suffering to crush but to strengthen my faith. May it be.
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