October 1, 2018

Share Good and Bad

Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. – Romans 12:15

What are you celebrating on your own today? What are you handling alone? What are you keeping from others?

These are all questions that the sermon yesterday ignited in all of us. Pastor Ryan Martin noted that James tells us to share our joys and our sorrows with each other. That goes against what our society dictates today. We keep it all to ourselves, accustomed to going through things alone.

What do you think? We do tend to keep things “private,” don’t we? We don’t ask questions. We don’t get involved. We are so busy minding our own business that we miss a very real truth of our faith. We are meant to do life together, sharing the good and the bad. But we don’t.

I get it. I do. I’m there too. So, the next question is why? Why are we so afraid to share ourselves with others? Maybe the answer is fear. It might be shame. It might be an unwillingness to be held up in praise for fear of what others will say.

Here’s an example. A sweet friend has lost 50 lbs. recently. She’s challenged herself to a exercise regimen and has changed her eating habits. I’m so proud of her determination. Others aren’t. She’s been publicly criticized for how she’s accomplishing her goals. I am appalled at what she’s faced.

As her friends, we should be her biggest cheerleaders. How dare someone question her methods?! It’s not an easy journey but it works for her. It’s medically sound. She’s happy. Why would anyone not congratulate her?

Ah, yes. There’s that little thing called jealousy. There’s always someone around to rain discouragement on our celebration. There’s always someone who can’t feel good about themselves without bashing someone else.

Do you think that’s why so many people don’t share the joys in their lives? Do you think they’re afraid of the criticism? It’s certainly understandable.

And, then, there’s the other side. We tend to handle our sorrows alone too. Maybe it’s shame that we somehow lost a great job, even if it was due to downsizing and nothing that we did or didn’t do. Maybe we don’t want to hear the ugly comments about why our spouse had an affair, or our child ended up a drug addict, or any other horrible thing.

Have you ever heard someone lash out at a person just diagnosed with lung cancer? I have. It’s an unnecessary ugliness. The last thing anyone needs to hear is they gave themselves cancer. Compassion goes a long way when people are hurting.

Our reactions to the news from others – be it good or bad news – causes people to turn inward to isolation or turn outward to loving arms. Which do you think Jesus would do? That’s right. He drew the hurting toward Himself. And He rejoiced with those who were rejoicing.

We weren’t meant to live our lives alone. We were meant to join together in prayer and celebration, in good times and in hard times. We were meant to get into each other’s business, to help, to share, to care.

There’s nothing quite like someone who joins you in celebration. And there are few things as comforting as someone who shows up when you’re hurting, when you’re alone, when you need a hug. Be that person.

August 27, 2018

We Can Help Others

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God. – 2 Corinthians 1:3-4

God never wastes a hurt. I’ve heard that said so many times but I don’t think I ever truly understood until now. When we give our hurts to God, He uses them and us to comfort and guide others.

I always thought I understood what being a caregiver was all about. I didn’t have a clue. I slid into the role without fully realizing what was coming. It’s a good thing. I’m not sure I could have done it if I’d known the heartache that was to come.

I’ve learned medical terminology and how to operate the machine that dispenses IV fluids. I have learned about medical directives and hard waiting room chairs and the fatigue of day after day without leaving the hospital. In other words, I get it.

People turn to me even as I pull back from offering an opinion or advice. The hard truth is that experience has taught me what questions to ask. I know when to panic and when to just let it go. I know about surrendering a hopeless situation to God. I understand about letting go.

Compassion is hard won in the game of life. We learn to ache with others because we have felt their pain. Some people have a natural empathy. Most of us try and fail. Until we’ve walked the same road. Then we get it.

It’s true with family and friends. It’s also true with medical personnel. There is a real difference between a nurse who has known suffering and one who has only seen it. That doesn’t mean they aren’t both kind. In a perfect world, they are. It simply means that one will shed a tear with you because she truly understands.

Last year my cousin and I traveled more than two hours away to see her critically ill daughter. The hospital staff was among the best I’ve ever experienced. They asked my cousin hard questions. They were kind. They were compassionate.

And when my cousin couldn’t understand, when her heart couldn’t grasp the words, she looked to me. I shared my journey and the words settled her. There’s something about someone else walking your path and surviving that gives you hope that you, too, will survive.

Another friend monitors medications and keeps a daily record of blood pressure and insulin and weight. It’s a routine most don’t understand. You can’t skip a day. Ever. Here’s an example: If you gain four pounds overnight, you’ll probably get upset and vow to eat better. If a heart patient gains four pounds overnight, it could signal an impending cardiovascular crisis. Sudden weight gain is a major sign of trouble in someone with Congestive Heart Failure.

People who’ve never walked the path can’t grasp endless doctor appointments with  the primary care physician and assorted specialists. They can’t grasp the home health visits that can total seven or more separate visits each week by different people. Everything has to be coordinated by someone and that someone is you.

There are no words to describe the moment you realize the person you love most will never go home again. All you can do is cry and cling to someone who gets it, to someone who has been there, to someone who truly understands your heartbreak.

I am grateful when I can help someone else navigate this devastating journey. I wish I didn’t understand but I do. God uses that hurt to help others, turning something awful into something good.

August 2, 2018

Comfort Those Who Grieve

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God. – 2 Corinthians 1:3-4

We can’t fix death. We can’t restore a person to life. Only God can do that. It’s a free gift He offers to those who believe Jesus Christ is His Son and that He came and died a horrific death on a cross and rose three days later. Jesus now sits at the right hand of God the Father.

We believe that and cling to it in times of death. We find some comfort in knowing that goodbye isn’t forever and we will see the person we mourn again. But believing doesn’t erase the tears of today or the loneliness of tomorrow.

We gather around those who mourn. There are no words that can erase the pain. So, at least in the Deep South, we take food. It’s the one, tangible thing we can do to let someone know that we care that they are hurting. We rearrange our lives to show up with casseroles and cakes, vegetables and sweet tea.

We understand deep in our hearts that it’s not about the food. It’s about the caring, the love, the companionship. We comfort others as we have been comforted.

As I write this, my cousin and her children are at the funeral home planning her husband’s funeral. Theirs was a long, happy marriage. They were blessed with years and children and grandchildren. The void will be great.

When my Dad died, she came bearing food and hugs. You never forget the people who show up when you are grief-stricken and numb all at the same time. So today I will prepare food and take it to her house. I will hug her tight and tell her I love her. It won’t be enough to erase her pain but we will all surround her with our presence on this journey.

That’s what God has asked us to do. We are to comfort others as we have been comforted. We are to be the hands and feet of Jesus.

I am reminded of the story in Exodus 17 about when the Israelites defeated the Amalekites. Joshua led the army. Moses stood on top of the hill with his hands raised high with the staff of God. So long as his hands were held high, the Israelites were winning. When he lowered his hands, the Amalekites were winning.

Moses grew tired. Aaron and Hur placed a stone for Moses to sit on. Then one stood on each side of him and held Moses hands up. This went on for hours. And God gave the Israelites victory.

But here’s the point none of us should miss: When Moses was too tired to continue, others showed up to help him. They physically held him up. They didn’t just throw out “We’ll pray for you.” They didn’t tell someone else to do it. They showed up and did what needed to be done.

I can’t restore my cousin’s husband to life and health. God has already done that. But I can be part of the entourage that comforts her today and all the days to come. I can show up. I can do something.

Never brush aside how valuable your gift of time and presence can be to someone who is grieving. It matters more than you know.

July 26, 2018

Strength Comes From God

“I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his spirit in your inner being.”

– Ephesians 3:16

One of the worst things you can say to someone who is hurting or struggling is that they are strong. I know. You mean well. But comments like that are more to reassure you than to reassure the one who is crushed inside.

We want people to be strong. It lets us off the hook. We don’t have to worry so much about them. We don’t have to rearrange our worlds to care for them. Their strength somehow reassures us that no matter what happens, there’s a way to get through it. Somehow maybe we believe that God only calls the strong to the toughest storms.

Nope. God doesn’t give anyone a pass. That is a hard and difficult thing to accept. Shouldn’t a loving God spare us the unending pain? Shouldn’t a caring God prevent awful things from happening? That’s especially true when those things don’t have a cause or, seemingly, a purpose?

Questions haunt the night. Days are filled with busyness. People abound. But it is in the quietness of night that tears flow and our bodies ache with the emptiness that fills our soul.

A sweet friend unexpectedly lost her husband. People tell her she is strong. She doesn’t feel strong. Why should she? Every plan she had, every dream, has just been shattered. Every piece of her foundation has been shaken. A week ago she was a wife and now she is a widow. How does she even begin to pick up the pieces?

There are children to comfort. There’s a business to run. There’s endless paperwork and uncertainty. She is alone. I know. She’s got family and friends surrounding her but make no mistake. She’s alone. Her life partner is gone. The person who brightened her days and was her closest confidant is gone.

God remains. When we get to the end of it all, that is what we hold on to. He is the One who remains. He sees the heart. He sees the pain. It is His strength others see, not our own.

Just breathe. How many times can a person utter those words? Just do this one thing, you tell yourself. Deep breath. You can make it through this. Just another five minutes. And then another. Whew! One more day is done. Now to face the night.

Strength is fleeting. A moment of resolve turns into tears. The slightest thing becomes a mountain. You question. Over and over you question our great Lord, asking why again and again.

The Bible tells us that His ways aren’t our ways. We can’t understand and, honestly, it’s not our place to try. But we try anyway. We want to somehow make sense of something that makes no sense.

There’s no strength in that. Just a simple faith that says you’ll get through this day. Just a firm belief that He won’t leave you in this place of despair. Just a Risen Savior who promises that one day your tears will end and the reunion will be glorious and forever.

Don’t ever tell someone they’re strong, that they’ll make it through, that they’ll be alright. Nothing will ever be the same and that’s a bitter thing to bear. Pray that the Holy Spirit will strengthen them for the journey. Walk beside them, offering a shoulder, a Kleenex, a helping hand. You can’t fix it but you can love them. At the end of the day, that’s all any of us can do. Love those who are broken inside. Be Jesus. That’s all. Just be Jesus.

July 16, 2018

How Have You Changed?

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here! – 2 Corinthians 5:17

Most of us don’t like change, do we? Oh, we say we like to try new things but mostly we simply want to stay in our own little worlds, with our family, friends and toys. We want an easy life without static or drama.

Except we do change when the Holy Spirit comes to dwell within us. We become a different person. Or we should. It’s one of the signs that we are truly saved.

God doesn’t want us to always be the same. He wants us to continually grow closer to Him. His goal is that we will become more like Christ and less like the world. He wants us to give up ourselves to become the people He created us to be.

And we resist. Again and again we resist. Because we want to control our own lives. We want to do what we want to do, when we want to do it. We want God when it comes to the hard stuff, the things we can’t control, things like cancer and wayward children and unexpected job loss. But the rest we want to control ourselves.

God doesn’t work that way. Sometimes He will break us in order to mold us into a new creation dedicated to serving Him. It doesn’t have to be like that, of course. God sends us signals, directions, guidelines. It’s when he’s trying to get our attention and we ignore Him that things can get bad quickly.

God doesn’t want us to be comfortable and content with where we are. We are all called to service. We are all called to spread His message of love and hope. We can’t do that when we’re sitting in our recliner letting television or games numb our minds.

What does God want from you? A willing spirit. A heart dedicated to Him. An open mind willing to step forward in faith. Even when the step is uncomfortable. Maybe, especially, when the step is uncomfortable.

How many blessings do we miss because we refused to trust the God who created us? How many people have suffered because we refused to open our minds and our hearts to share with them what God has placed on our hearts?

We all have to carry a load. It’s not about us. Simple words. Trite, even. Words we would rather ignore. We want it all to be about us. Or, at least, about our children, our job, our pleasure. We don’t want to serve people we’d rather ignore.

Ah, yes. We want to stay around people like us. We want to choose whom we serve. We want to give on our terms, not God’s terms. Because sometimes God calls us to step out of our comfort zone and actually get dirty, get our hearts broken, stir up something we’d rather leave alone.

We weren’t meant to come to Jesus, be filled with the Holy Spirit, and remain the same. We want all the benefits of salvation without expressing any of the gratitude. Because that’s what doing God’s will is: Expressing gratitude and love for all He has done for us.

Life isn’t about staying the same. It’s about walking in faith. It’s about doing the hard things because that’s the journey God called us to. It’s about loving the unlovable, giving without reserve, showing up when we’d rather not. It’s about sharing Him in all we say and do. Anything less is just an empty life.

March 13, 2018

The Gift of Your Presence

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.

– 2 Corinthians 1:3-4

The gift of your presence. That’s how one sweet friend explained it. She found comfort in the friends who had traveled more than two hours to be with her and her family as they said goodbye to her 8-year-old grandson.

No words could restore Connor’s life on this earth. Nothing anyone could say or do would change the bitter reality. It was the silent support, the tight hugs, the being there that provided the strength to get through the days and all those to come.

As I write this, I am just back from a visitation at church. A dear older woman, a pillar in this church I love, died. She was 90. Age doesn’t lessen the grief of her family.

Sadness clouded the eyes of her daughter-in-law. “You understand,” she said, as she grabbed me in a hug. I nodded. It’s been almost a year since my own Mother died. It’s not something you get over. Grief is something to be endured until we are reunited again in heaven. That promise is something to cling to in the moments when the grief feels fresh and comfort far away.

I went because that dear family needed something I could give: The gift of my presence. Honestly, I didn’t want to go. I considered staying home. It’s still hard to be surrounded by mourners clothed in black and heavy-laden with sadness.

Why go? Because my understanding lets me reach out in a way others who haven’t walked this path can’t comprehend. It’s not that they don’t care. They do. It’s that they’ve never felt that depth of grief, that emptiness, that overwhelming sorrow.

So often people hang back because they don’t know what to say. You really don’t have to say anything. “I’m sorry,” carries more weight than a thousand words.  True compassion comes from the heart and carries a strength that lifts us up.

But first, before we can offer up mercy, we have to get beyond ourselves. We must truly consider others first. We must reach out in genuine love and not self-serving grandiose gestures. That type of comfort comes from God.

He is ever present with us and will meet our every need. Frequently, God uses people – you and I – to minister to those He loves. We are the hands and feet of Jesus. I’m sure you’ve heard that before. It’s true. It really is true.

In my own season of grief, I can’t remember all the details. Numbness has a way of dulling that which doesn’t matter. What I remember are the people who showed up. I am forever bound in gratitude to those who cared enough to bring food, place the call, give me a hug. I found comfort in the presence of those who cared enough to come and sit with me during this season of grief.

If you’re hesitant about stepping forward, do it anyway. When you don’t know what to say, just show up. And in the days and weeks that follow, remember that grief isn’t something that goes away when the last casserole dish is returned. Grief lingers and haunts our days. Be vigilant. Reach out. Give the gift of your presence.

February 26, 2016

God Comforts Us

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted
and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

-- Psalm 34:18

Has anyone ever broken your heart? If you’re old enough to be reading this, the answer is probably yes. But there are many things that can cause a broken heart, not just the romantic love we immediately think about.

My mind goes this moment to a faithful couple who buried their son two months ago. The heartbreak will never go away. Oh, they’ll get better at living with it. But for as long as they live there will be a piece of them missing, gone home way too soon.

A dear friend copes daily with a son who has broken the law again and again. And, still, he refuses to accept responsibility for his actions. She is devastated, her heart in tatters as she struggles to understand how her sweet boy could have become this hard-core drunk and drug addict.

Another man struggles to forgive a former co-worker who told lies and tried to get him fired. The co-worker’s lies were revealed but not before the man and his family had suffered greatly as they lived under a cloud of suspicion.

What is your story? Have you ever been betrayed by someone you thought you could trust? Have you ever had someone blame you for their mistakes? Have you ever had someone ostracize you for something you didn’t do? Have you ever had a spouse betray you?

There are many ways to suffer a broken heart. There is only one way to recover -- by placing faith in God’s healing. Sometimes it just isn’t possible to forgive and forget on your own. Nor is it practical. People who break your heart aren’t safe anymore. It doesn’t mean you don’t love them. How can we help ourselves? It does mean watching what you say and maybe choosing to put distance between you and them.

My friend’s son is in jail right now. He may be there a while and that could be a good thing. She talks of going to see her family up north for a few weeks. She longs for a change of scenery, one where every moment doesn’t remind her of all that has happened. I think it’s a good idea.

Change can help us bring closure and healing. Our hearts are still broken but God is a masterful healer. He uses our heartbreak for good, even as He masterfully knits us back together again.

February 2, 2016

God Comforts Us

Blessed are those who mourn,
for they will be comforted. -- Matthew 5:4

There are many different types of grief. We think of grief mostly when we have lost a loved one. We also can grieve the loss of a pet, a job, a way of life.

There is another type of grief we don’t think of too often. It is the loss of a relationship. I’m not talking about divorce here, though that certainly does cause grief. I’m talking about what happens when people change or, maybe worse, you find out that the person you love isn’t at all who you thought they were.

A dear friend woke up last week to a new reality. The son she adores has done something unthinkable. He is in jail and will almost certainly be headed to prison because, yes, he did what he is accused of doing. She wanted so much more for her only child. When he was a teenager, she believed he would be a preacher. He took a wrong turn, then another and another and now here they are at this place. She is grief stricken.

Another friend asked for prayer for his brother. He, too, took a wrong turn into self-destruction. He faces felony theft and DUI charges. It doesn’t look good. Their family is devastated. They have been praying for this young man for such a long time and still he chose again and again the wrong path.

We can’t control the choices of others. We can’t turn things back. We can’t make people better than they are. All we can do is pray for them and ask God to strengthen us so that we don’t go down that same path.

It is tempting to sin in our efforts to save the lost. It is tempting to sin in our need for revenge against the anguish they have caused us. It is tempting to walk away and forget to care.

Instead we seek God’s comfort and ask Him to give us the strength and guidance to make the right choices for everyone. We trust that He is near no matter what the circumstances. We trust that He has a plan for all to be saved and for His own glory. We rest is His arms knowing that He will comfort us as we mourn what could have been.

December 30, 2014

Make Time Today

Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom, and as you sing psalms, hymns and spiritual songs with gratitude in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him.

-- Colossians 3:15-17

You always think you're going to have more time. Some people are such a fixture in your life that you always expect them to be there. And then they aren't. The sadness is deep, profound.

She was what we delicately call "elderly." She'd fought cancer twice. She'd lost her husband to a horrible disease. She'd buried one son. She lived with oxygen and caregivers. But she stayed at home until her final trip to the hospital. And, thank God, there was nothing wrong with her mind.

I loved her, this sweet cousin of mine. Our relationship ran deep, much deeper than most knew. Her Mother was so dear to me. It was so natural that her only daughter and I would bond, despite the vast age difference.

She spoke in that slow, Southern drawl that personifies this part of the world. Her laugh combined with a sparkle in her eyes. She was tiny in stature but her strength ran deep.

What I most admired is that she always had time for the people she loved. She was the first to call and check on people. She remembered to send cards. Despite her frail health, she welcomed visitors. What an example she was!

She lived her faith. It was really that simple. There was a peace about her that comes from a deep, unshakable faith. I want that. I do. I want to have faith with roots than run as deep as her faith ran.

The coming days will be hard. We'll say goodbye to a soul that is already home. We'll remember and mourn and laugh and love on each other. It's what families do. We'll find comfort in knowing she's with loved ones that have gone before. And we'll find comfort in the promise that this goodbye is only temporary. We'll see her again. Thank you Jesus! We'll see her again.