September 12, 2024

                                   Don’t Wait

Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope.

-- 1 Thessalonians 4:13

Death is everywhere. A woman lost her husband to a sudden illness. Parents grieve for a young man gone too soon. Teammates, friends and family members walk around in shock. We are so unprepared.

Yet, why are we so shocked? Death comes to all of us. It’s the one guarantee of this life. We don’t know when. We don’t know how. But death will one day knock on our door and demand its price.

Are you ready? Do you know Jesus? He’s the One who defeated death. When death arrives, it will be too late to decide.

The Apostle Paul told the Thessalonians not to grieve the way those who don’t know Jesus grieve. While goodbyes are painful, we have the hope and reassurance that the goodbye isn’t forever. We’ll see those we love, those who know Jesus, again one day.

And there it is. Those who know Jesus. It’s not enough to be a good person. It doesn’t matter how much money you have in the bank or how much property you own. It doesn’t even matter how much your family loves you. All that matters in that moment of death is whether you know Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior.

“I’ll take my chances.” How many times have I heard somebody say those words?

“He (or she) was such a good person. I’m sure he’s in heaven.”

“He attended church regularly. I never saw him read the Bible or even participate in a Bible study but I’m sure he was good. He went to church after all.”

News Flash: Attending church doesn’t punch your card to heaven. Nor does being a good person. And rolling the dice on your chances is a sure ticket down below.

The only question that matters is whether you love Jesus. Have you accepted Him as Lord and Savior? Have you accepted His gift of salvation? Do you believe that Jesus is the Son of God who came to earth, lived a perfect life, died a horrific death on the cross, and is now raised from the dead and seated at God’s right hand? Don’t wait until your day is done to examine your heart.

And don’t wait until it’s too late to have hard conversations with the people you love. They may not hear you. They may brush aside your questions and your prayers. That’s their right. But at least try.

The only way through unbearable grief is knowing that our separation is only temporary. Don’t wait until death calls your name or the name of someone you love.

July 15, 2023

 

Do You Truly Know Jesus

 

“I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you.” – John 14:18

 

A woman I knew years ago just lost her father. Her mother passed a year ago. She is reeling with grief and a new reality. Her father is no longer in pain and she is grateful for that. But she is also starkly aware that she is now an orphan.

 

She is not alone. Her husband walks beside her on this journey of grief. Her children strengthen her. But it’s not the same thing. It’s a new season of life.

 

Jesus knew that we would suffer great loss in our earthly lives. He understood that people die, they leave, they break our hearts. But Jesus promised He would never leave us as orphans. Jesus always keeps His promises.

 

In this passage, Jesus explains about the Holy Spirit. I doubt His disciples could fully understand what Jesus meant. How could they? Jesus called Him the “Spirit of Truth.” He went on to say, “The world cannot accept Him, because it neither sees him nor knows him. But you know him, for he lives with you and will be in you.” (John 14:17)

 

It’s the difference between truly knowing Jesus and knowing about Jesus. Many people know about Jesus. They can answer the questions. Maybe they grew up in church, participating in all the activities, but never truly accepted Jesus as Lord and Savior.

 

This woman will see her parents again. They are with Jesus, as she will be one day. Faith gives us strength to walk through grief. In the years between the here and now and what’s to come, the Holy Spirit will comfort her.

 

Do you know that comfort? Have you surrendered your life – all your todays and tomorrows – to the only One who can save you? Or are you simply going through the motions of faith? Don’t wait to figure it out. Time passes quickly and one day it will be too late.

September 1, 2021

 

What’s Your Excuse?

 

There is a path before each person that seems right, but it ends in death. – Proverbs 14:12

 

It’s been a sad week. A sad mon Ph really. So many people I know have loved ones fighting for their lives. Others are deep in grief for someone gone too soon. The reason? Covid. That’s the simple answer. The rest of the answer is way more complicated.

 

Every person that I know who is sick or dead refused to get the vaccination. Every single one. They had a choice and they said no. Those who are alive are fighting to regain strength and abilities lost during the long hospital stay. They will never be fully okay. Others are dead. Gone. Leaving behind husbands and wives and children.

 

I struggle to understand their refusal. I listen to the excuses from those who have yet to be diagnosed and I am astounded at their answers. The shot implants a chip. It hasn’t been fully approved. It decreases your immune system and you have health issues. It makes you spread the virus. Covid isn’t real, just manufactured by the government. I was in the military and had to take vaccines so now I refuse to take any vaccine. Need I go on?

 

Most of us have always taken vaccines. They were required before we started school. We take the flu vaccine and the shingles vaccine. It’s part of life that helps keep us healthy. But suddenly we’re finding some who are adamant that they have a “right” to not take a vaccine. They have a “right” to infect whoever they want, to get sick and overwhelm the hospitals and to leave their families grief-stricken.

 

Your “freedom” to choose comes with consequences that go far beyond your choice. It means people who need surgery can’t get it because there are no hospital beds. It means someone who has a heart attack or accident could be sent hundreds of miles away to a hospital with a vacant bed. It means that healthcare workers are overwhelmed and exhausted with no end in sight. It means all of us are back to wearing masks because you refused to do your part.

 

I struggle not to become hard-hearted toward those who are so busy being right until it happens to them. Then it’s too late. Then, if they live, they know that Covid is real. Then, if they die, they leave family and friends behind. Surely a vaccine was better than a coffin.

 

Lord, please, open their eyes before it’s too late. Please soften my heart to those who are creating such sadness.

October 23, 2018

God is With You

The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. – Psalm 34:18

There’s a sadness about him. He’s solemn. The twinkle is gone from his eyes. His heart has learned what his mind always knew: The things of this world are only temporary. Only God is forever.

The things I always thought would be there are gone, he told me. Hurricane Michael showed no compassion, no sympathy, no mercy as it attacked. It was gone within hours of the initial onslaught. The scars – both on the land and the people who live there – will last forever.

How do you even begin to heal? There’s nothing to rebuild. It’s all rubble and fallen trees. Everywhere you look is devastation. It’s hard to make out where specific landmarks once stood. It’s just that bad.

And then, as you struggle to cope with what has happened, you hear that three linemen have died. They were mowed down by a man now charged with DUI. They were doing something good. They were working to restore power to people who have been without for more than two weeks. They were helping others and they died because of it.

How does it all make sense? We know that God will turn all things to our good and His glory if we’ll just turn it over to Him. But it’s hard to see good right now. It’s difficult to believe anything could ever be alright again. The weight of all that’s happened causes a burden in our souls.

I wonder how God felt when Jesus hung on the cross. It was necessary to save us but have you ever considered what it cost Him? That was His Son! And think about Jesus. He knew what was coming. He agonized over it. He pleaded for another way even as He surrendered His will to God the Father.

And, yet, we tell ourselves God doesn’t understand. We demand that Jesus fix what is broken on the outside, brushing past His offer to fix what is broken on the inside.

That’s where the healing begins. It’s on the inside. It’s choosing to look at the good in something that is too awful to bear. It’s that flicker of hope that lets light into the darkness.

It’s noticing how people are coming together to help those in need. It’s remembering what’s important in life. It’s noticing the beautiful sunrise or the healing touch of a gentle rain.

It’s remembering that no matter how alone we might feel, God never leaves us alone. It’s knowing that when we don’t know the way, God is right beside us telling us which way to go. It’s believing that even though we don’t know how life will ever be okay again, God has promised to provide good things for us.

Deep sadness changes us. We become stronger, our roots of faith, growing deeper into the strength of His Presence. But we are never the same.

My dear friend will one day be happy again. He will smile. His laughter and dry wit will return. But he’ll carry the sorrow of today deep inside. That’s where compassion takes root. In the years to come, he’ll understand the agony of someone else’s pain and he’ll be able to reach out in empathy. It’s the good that comes from the bad.

I don’t know your story but I do know this: God is with you, no matter where you are or what you’re going through. When everything else collapses around you, count on that. God will never let you down.

October 7, 2018

No Guarantees

Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom. -- Psalm 90:12

This is not the life he had planned. He had retired. His wife was soon to retire. They were going to travel and spoil their grandchildren and just enjoy themselves. And then she got sick and died.

Now he’s struggling to make sense of what’s left. He has to go on. He has to live what’s left of his life. But it will never look the way it would have looked had she lived.

Another friend is two months into unexpected widowhood. How could someone seemingly so healthy get sick and die within days? How does she reorder her life, care for her children, and look to the future when each day looks so bleak?

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. They were supposed to watch their children become adults, welcome grandchildren and retirement. They were supposed to grow old together. She feels cheated even as she seeks God’s will to go forward.

Should I go on? Another friend fought a hard battle for two years. Her son died. She will never be okay. She goes on. She’s got three other children. But how can she ever trust in tomorrow? How can she rid herself of this deep fear inside? One child died of cancer. Could she lose another?

We are people who plan. We fill our days with work and meetings and kids’ activities. We are busy people. We’ll get around to joy a little later. There will be plenty of time to rest when we’ve accomplished all that we’ve planned. We’ll have lots of time to spend with the kids then. We’ll all be glad of the nice home and all the stuff we’ve filled it with.

Until the day when life changes forever. If you’re lucky, you’ll get another chance to get it right. If you’re not, you’ll be left with deep regrets.

Another friend marked an unfortunate milestone last week. It had been exactly a year since her husband was involved in head-on collision. He is fine. The other driver, the one who swerved in front of him, died. She remembers the phone call, the frantic rush to the accident scene, then thankfulness that he would be okay. And the sorrow that someone they’d never met had died.

Life isn’t something to take for granted. We know that. So why do we live as though tomorrow is promised? It isn’t. Only God knows the number of our days. We should spend those days focused on what’s truly important.

If you died today what would your children remember about you? That you worked all the time? That your house was always spotless? Or would they remember how you played with them, helped them with homework, held them when they cried?

What would your friends remember? Would they consider you a hard worker and tough competitor? Or would they remember your kindness, your compassion, your laughter?

We don’t like to think of the day we’ll move on to our heavenly home. Oh, we want to go to heaven. Just not today. Or tomorrow. But that’s not our choice.

It’s always wise to plan for the future, to have savings and a good job and a welcoming home. But treat today as the treasure that it is. Be grateful for the time you have with those you love. Extend grace. Show mercy. Be kind. Today is a gift and tomorrow may never come. Live accordingly.

September 13, 2018

Watch Your Words

To humans belong the plans of the heart, but from the LORD comes the proper answer of the tongue. – Proverbs 16:1

I don’t know her. It was one of those God things that brought us together. She wanted something I had to sell. I certainly didn’t know she was four months into her season of grief. And she surely didn’t know grief was something I understood. But God brought us together for a moment and that turned out to be a good thing.

She was trying to move on. Her friends were trying to be helpful, encouraging even. Get over it, they advised. Start a new life, they said. Redecorate your house with something that’s new and different, they told her. They wanted to help but all they did was pour more anguish into her fresh wounds.

Everyone grieves differently. There’s no right or wrong way. Some people have an uncanny knack for bouncing back. Most of us linger in the pain for a while. She is one of those.

Some days are good, she told me. Other days she can barely function. It’s all normal to me. It might have been normal to her had she not had such well-meaning people in her life. She thought she should push forward and pretend she was okay, even on the hard days. She was beating herself up because she just couldn’t.

My advice? Give yourself a break. Enjoy the good days and take care of yourself  on the bad days. If you need to cry, go ahead and cry. If you need to mope, go ahead and do it. Just don’t stay there. Grief is a journey and there are no quick fixes.

Her friends mean well. They do. They just don’t understand what they haven’t lived. That’s true in so many areas of life.

I had a friend tell me I didn’t know what it was like having children. She’s right. I don’t. But as I reminded her, she doesn’t know what it’s like to not have the children you once desperately wanted. The shock on her face still makes me chuckle. She had never considered the other side.

I am in a Bible study on Job. We talked about how well-meaning friends can say the absolutely worst things. Friends can hurt us deeply without realizing the weight of their words. They make assumptions. They speak from themselves without considering the differences. They aim to fix what only God can heal.

Sometimes the absolutely best thing you can say to someone hurting is – drum roll here – nothing. Just give them a hug. Sit quietly beside them. Walk with them. You can’t fix it. You can’t. But you can love them without hurting them.

That’s not to say that we don’t sometimes need friends to speak truth into our lives. Notice earlier that while I encouraged this woman to cry and mourn, I also told her not to live there. I speak from experience. I spoke from a heart that has known deep pain. And she heard that in my words.

Some seasons of life are just hard. I know it’s something I say a lot but I do so because it’s true. I also do so because there are just so many hurting people in this world. Don’t add to their pain with careless words. Don’t try to fix them or their situation. Just love them and trust God to heal them.

September 12, 2018

God Sustains Us

Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.

– Isaiah 46:4

Some seasons are just hard. Some days seem to never end. Some times life seems so meaningless. Some hours we struggle to breath. And then it gets better.

I look around and see so much suffering and heartache. As I write this, coastal areas in South Carolina and North Carolina are evacuating. A catastrophic hurricane is headed toward those beautiful states. I know what’s coming. I’ve been where they are. High winds. Flooding. Buildings destroyed. Roads wiped away. And power out for a long time. I pray for those in harms way. And I pray for those first responders who are already there and the ones who will soon be heading into the aftermath.

We are blessed that way. Those who go toward disaster are amazing people. In my own community, there are groups specially trained in disaster relief. They can cook for the masses. They can cut up downed trees. They can rip out wet carpet and wipe down mold from walls. They can rebuild. And they can give hugs, offer prayers, and wipe tears. They go where they’re needed.

I watch a sweet friend struggle through the days that follow sudden death. Her husband was too young to die. He was supposed to be okay. He’s supposed to be at home with her and their kids. I know. He’s in heaven and having a joyous time. But she’s here and it hurts. The emptiness never really goes away. And none of us can really help her. We can love her. We can send cards and offer hugs. But we can’t erase the pain that rests in her broken heart.

And yet her faith is amazing. She clings tightly to Jesus, showing all of us what it means to let Him carry you when you are too overwhelmed to take another step. She continues to reach out to others. She gives of herself to ministries they supported. She is an example of goodness. We are blessed to be part of her journey.

It’s just so easy to focus on the bad. It’s easy to forget that while there are some awful things happening right now, there are also some pretty amazing things happening too. And while there are some pretty awful people around, there are some pretty amazing people around too.

Focus on what’s good and right. That’s what the Bible tells us. We have a choice to think about good things or to think about the bad. Choose the good and watch how it multiplies.

A friend asked me yesterday if I was worried about something I face. Honestly? No. Do you know why? Because Jesus was right when He said that no amount of worrying can or will add another day to my life. I’m not in control. God is. Whatever is going to happen, will happen. Worrying won’t change it. But worrying would steal the peace I have today.

I have always loved this verse from Isaiah. When times get tough and I’m not sure I can face the days ahead, I remember that God made me. I belong to Him. And He will help me and sustain me. He will carry me when I am too weak to take another step. And He will love me no matter what.

That’s the hope I cling to when I am overwhelmed. I pray it’s the hope the folks evacuating from the hurricane will cling to as well. No amount of worrying will change what’s to come. We can only pray for strength to handle the aftermath. And we can look around and find joy in the helping hands God sends to carry us when times are tough.

September 6, 2018

You Are Never Alone

“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.” – Deuteronomy 31:6

There comes the time when everyone goes home. People go back to work. Friends get on with their lives. And there you are. Silence echoes within the walls of a once bustling home. You are alone.

I heard it in his voice when he called. “I just need to talk to somebody,” he said. “You seemed like a good person to do that with,” he added.

Because I’ve been there. It’s a different set of circumstances but the grief, well, it’s just the same. There’s that moment when panic begins to set in and you realize that this new normal wasn’t what you had planned at all.

We invited him out to eat. He spoke again and again of how good it was to talk to somebody. He’d only been alone just over day. We encouraged him to get involved in church, to have lunch with friends, to make an effort to get out. He knows the truth of all that. The reality? Well, it’s easier to say what you need to do than it is to actually make yourself do it.

Some people bound back from grief, or any kind of devastation, with an amazing strength. I don’t know them. That was not my journey. It isn’t my journey. Because deep grief stays with you. It changes you. It makes you know that life is full of uncertainty – with one exception.

God never leaves us alone with our pain. God never, ever turns away from our tears. God fills us up with hope and endurance when we don’t know how we’ll ever make it through the day.

God is there. Always and forever. I’ve held on to that promise so many nights, when the darkness threatened to overwhelm the resolves of the day. It’s easy to panic when you’re alone. It’s common to overreact when you’ve no one to speak truth to your pain. It’s normal to think that tomorrow could never be better than today.

He will find rest in God. He will find comfort in God alone. He will find strength to carry on through God. It’s only when we turn toward our Creator that we draw what we need to sustain life. It’s a new life. It’s a different journey. He is there.

No one can truly fix this. I sometimes think that’s why so many people turn away from grief. We want to make it better and that’s something we just can’t do. Death separates us from those we love. Through Christ’s blood, we will reunite in heaven one day. But, oh, those days between the here and the then can tear you up inside.

I watched him walk alone into the home he’d shared with her. They’d raised a family there. It was filled with memories. It was consumed with silence. Will he be okay? I don’t know. All I can do is walk beside him and remind him that he is loved by so many. All I can do is point him toward God and the promises of His Word.

When we are too weary, too lost, too alone, God carries us. It’s a truth I’ve learned along the way.

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 25, 2018

Put People First

If anyone, then, knows the good they ought to do and doesn’t do it, it is sin for them. – James 4:17

Sometimes you just do what you need to do. It’s rarely convenient. It’s always draining. Sometimes it’s costly. You do it anyway.

Yesterday was one of those days. I planned a quick hospital stop. It turned in to several hours. Unfortunately, I have experience with hospitals, doctors, hospice, end of life discussions. Sometimes you just don’t even know what questions to ask. My experience means I do. I was needed, so I stayed.

Then there was a need to take an elderly person to another town to visit his disabled daughter. Her mother will never go again and this dear man had a desperate desire to see his youngest child. For obvious reasons, the other children were reluctant to leave their dying mother. Of course, I drove him.

My day didn’t go as planned. Things that needed to be done, didn’t get done. I can’t really say I made a choice but, I guess, I obviously did. I hope I always choose people first.

The hospital room was a gathering of those who love and care. The absence of another child was the unspoken hurt. He was busy. How often have I seen that? Excuses thrown out because one person chooses to let others carry their load. How can anyone make that choice?

Again and again it happens. We get so caught up in ourselves, our own lives, our own desires, that we miss an opportunity to put people first. Our loved ones suffer because we don’t want the inconvenience a sudden illness brings. But isn’t that what family is all about? Isn’t that what true friendship really is?

I guess I’m of the age and experience that I just don’t want to hear the excuses. I’ve carried a load that I should never have borne alone. I have known the deep fatigue that comes when your only desire is to get through another day bearing responsibilities that threaten to overwhelm you. I know the anguish of crying out to God for help, for relief, for strength, when your shattered heart is simply too weary to heal.

Yesterday I watched a hospital case manager try to be perky in a room filled with death. I have witnessed a doctor refuse to meet with more than two family members. I have watched a family keep vigil while doctors guessed and make predictions that they should never have made.

I wonder where kindness and compassion went? It was certainly evident in the tears of a nurse who explained she’d walked their path before. It was evident in a younger nurse who was quick to explain her actions and respond to questions. It was evident in the honest answers from a doctor who’d been called in to consult.

But most of the time it simply wasn’t there. One child remarked that she was horribly offended by the party atmosphere some visitors displayed. Oh, how I understood that. A death vigil is no place for loud conversations or visiting. It grates on those who truly care. It hurts to know that others might be family or friends but their careless words show their emotions never go deeper than the surface.

Some days we are called to be Jesus to someone who is desperately hurting. Some days we are called to be inconvenienced to help someone else. Some days we are called to sit quietly and grieve with a hurting family. Don’t miss your chance. Don’t make an excuse. Just show up. Putting people first is always the right choice.

August 23, 2018

Make Your Wishes Known

“‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”

– Revelation 21:4

No more death. No more tears. No more shattered hearts. Oh, I am so looking forward to that day!

Some phone calls you just don’t want to receive. “ICU.” “In really bad shape.” “Not sure if she’ll make it.” “I knew you’d want to know.” “It doesn’t look good.”

A spouse and children shattered by what’s to come. How could someone seemingly so healthy suddenly be near death? How do you pray? You want healing on this earth but at what cost? Is it better to pray for peace and comfort? I’m so thankful God makes those decisions. His will. Always. His will.

There is a comfort that goodbye won’t be forever. How do those without that assurance deal with the separation? How do they let go? How can we?

Death seems to be a constant companion in this season of life. The generation of my parents is going on to a better place, leaving us here to mourn. We talk about God’s will. But what about the grief that comes when His will breaks our hearts?

Decisions aren’t easy to make when your heart is shattered. We put off death. We put off the conversations that tell our loved ones what we’d want them to do. It’s as though we believe if we don’t talk about death, it won’t come. But it will. Death is as much a part of life as birth.

So, what would your loved ones want if they couldn’t speak for themselves? Would they want you to try everything to keep them alive? Would they choose to let go of this life, without heroic measures, ventilators, and such? Would they ask you to consider quality of life? Would they want to live if living meant a life tethered to machines, unable to breath or walk or function alone?

Tough questions. Necessary questions. It’s not a matter of age. Anyone who has lived a life knows that death can come at any age and at any moment. We are not guaranteed another minute. Yet we sometimes act as though we have all the time in the world. We don’t.

Take time today to learn of your loved ones’ wishes. And tell them yours. Write it all down. Don’t wait for a better time or another day. You don’t want to be in a time and place where, with your heart breaking, you’re having to make life and death decisions. It’s an awful place to be.

One day those of us who believe in Jesus Christ as our Risen Savior will live forever in heaven. There will be no more tears or pain. Death won’t ever come again. Jesus made sure of that. But for now let’s do all we can to help each other navigate this indescribable pain. Let your wishes be known before your loved ones need to know.

August 5, 2018

Jesus Grieves with Us

Jesus wept. – John 11:35

Our chairs faced the bed. We watched him breath in and out. He could have been sleeping. My heart ached for him to wake up, to speak, to ask for a drink of water or some ice cream. My mind understood that when he did wake up it would be in heaven.

Mother and I watched the medical equipment that monitored his blood pressure and heart rate. Silence surrounded us, interrupted only by the nurses who checked on us. The vigil continued. Hour after hour.

It had been days since we’d gone to his rehab facility for a visit. We were with him when the wheezing started. The staff acted quickly and he was soon dispatched by ambulance to the hospital. We were hoping they’d give him medicine and send him back. He was admitted to ICU.

We were not prepared for the doctor who told us he might not make it through the night. We were not prepared to stay at the hospital. We would not leave. The ICU nurses brought comfortable chairs into his room for Mother and I. They understood better than we did that it wouldn’t end well.

Hope circled my heart as we all monitored him through the night. He clung to life. He was stubborn that way. His frantic eyes sought mine as he struggled to understand. I leaned close. “I love you, Daddy,” I told him again. I held his hand and tried to explain that he was sick and in the hospital. His body relaxed and he slept. He never woke again.

Two days later even the doctors had given up hope. We were moved to a regular room to wait for the end. People came and went. Few seemed to understand this was not a time to loudly talk about politics or their own ailments. Didn’t anyone get it? My Daddy was dying! It wasn’t a social occasion; it was a death vigil.

It was late when the last person left. A few caring friends didn’t want to leave us alone. We assured them we would be okay. It was right somehow that in the end it was just the three of us. How many days had we spent in hospitals and rehab facilities? How many nights had I slept on a sofa or chair to be close to one of my parents? How often had my heart broken under the weight of responsibility and criticism from people who skirted the outside but never dared to show up and help.

Jesus was there. We were never alone. His strength carried us, comforted us, held us in the storm. And then it was over. The machine’s flat lines, the nurse’s sad confirmation, the quick glance at the clock. Death at 12:25 a.m. on this day two years ago.

Calls were made. Mother and I were escorted to the waiting room. Numbness. We went through the motions. There was paperwork to sign. There’s always paperwork. And then the silent trip home.

The tears would come. They still come. I guess they always will. “Jesus wept.” I love this verse. It’s a short, powerful reminder that Jesus grieves with us. He doesn’t leave us alone. Not ever. Indeed, He draws close to us providing comfort and strength and hope.

Death doesn’t have the final say for those of us who believe. I will see my parents again one day. Do you have that certainty in your own life? Are you headed to heaven one day? Are you sure? None of us know the hours we have left. Know where you are headed before it’s too late.

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 21, 2018

What Will People Remember?

However, as it is written: “What no eye has seen, what no ear has heard, and what no human mind has conceived” – the things God has prepared for those who love him. – 1 Corinthians 2:9

He loved Jesus. And that love permeated everything he did, whether at work, at church, at home. He gave generously of his time and money to those in need. He lived his faith.

And on Wednesday, God called him home.

No one expected it. How could someone so healthy get sick and die so quickly? How could someone the doctors expected to fully recover suddenly die? God’s ways are not our ways. The Bible tells us that and I believe it. But knowing and believing doesn’t make the path any easier.

The Bible also tells us that if we give bad things to God, He will turn them to good. So those of us who are hurting fully expect God to do something magnificent with this dear man’s death. We expect to see God glorified again and again and again.

There are many people who talk about faith. There are many who claim to love Jesus, who write checks, who offer prayers. But there are very few it seems who actually live their faith. He was someone who did.

People keep saying what he good man he was. They’re right about that. He was quick to share his faith in Jesus. He was the first to extend a helping hand, a second chance, a smile and a prayer at that moment for anyone in need. That’s part of the legacy he leaves behind.

He had built a good life with his wife and daughters. He worked hard. But he would be the first to tell you that wasn’t what was most important. He wasn’t raised in wealth. He’d made plenty of wrong choices along his path. And sometimes he’d struggled to pay bills, to find a decent job, to keep moving forward when life was determined to knock him back down.

He gave all the credit to Jesus. He told everyone how Jesus had saved him again and again. He was just so open and honest about his faith. He never tried to hide his struggles, to make his journey appear easy. It wasn’t. But it was that journey which made him solid, dependable, true to what he believed deep inside.

I can’t even imagine what greeted him when he arrived home. Jesus surely was there. His Daddy was probably right beside Jesus. And, then, the receiving line of welcome was likely massive. My parents would have been there. They adored this young man. We all did.

Now there is nothing left by memories and an emptiness that will never truly go away. His wife, whose own faith runs deep, will take one step and then another as she struggles into a future she didn’t plan. She expected they had years to share. Don’t we always think we’ve got all the time in the world to create memories?

His daughters will continue toward adulthood without the guiding influence of the man who loved them fully and completely. Hopefully the lessons they saw him live will be their rudder as they navigate a world without him. His family will do all they can. It will never be enough.

He died without regrets. His family knew how much he loved them. They also understood how deeply he loved Jesus. That’s what they will cling to in the dark days to come.

What will people remember about you when you’re gone? I promise it’s not going to be about what you own or how much money you acquired. They’ll remember how you lived your life and how you loved the people who surrounded you. Will it be a good memory? Will you leave a lasting legacy or will it slowly become dust as time passes? The choice is yours but don’t wait to long to make it. There are no guarantees that tomorrow will ever come.

July 20, 2018

God Sustains Us

Cast your cares on the LORD and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous be shaken. – Psalm 55:22

There’s a popular saying that some people like to throw out. It goes like this: God will never give you more than you can handle. Yes. He will.

If we can handle alone whatever it is we’re facing, we have no need for God. It is only when we acknowledge that the journey is too tough, when we turn to Him, that we find His strength to carry on.

I’m not sure where the phrase came from. Maybe it simply makes people feel better. We’d much rather people be strong than for us to actually have to see them suffer. It’s that stiff upper lip silence that we’d prefer.

Life isn’t like that. It’s messy and sometimes it hurts. Sometimes things happen that are beyond your control, beyond your understanding, beyond your ability to withstand the onslaught. That’s where Jesus steps in.

Others try to tell us that God doesn’t care about the details. Don’t bother Him with the small things, they insist. Handle it yourself. God is there for help with the big things. You know. Things like cancer, divorce, death. He’s too busy for small concerns or joys.

They say this about the God who has numbered the hairs on our heads. Yes. I believe God cares about the details. While I joke about God wishing I would sometimes just shut up, I know that He hears my running chatter with an indulgent smile. God is my very best friend. I tell Him everything.

Some say that we shouldn’t continually bother God with the same requests over and over again. One friend used to say “You’ve asked God once. Just let it go. He heard you the first time.”

I bother God. All the time. When the time came, I bothered God repeatedly to heal this friend. He did heal him. God healed my friend by taking him home. That hurt. I bothered God about that too.

I know I don’t need to remind God about my needs. I don’t need to continuously thank God for His blessings. I don’t need to always be thanking Him for never leaving my side, for loving me no matter what, for placing good people along my path. But I do.

I will never deserve God. I will never deserve the sacrifice Jesus made. I will never deserve the presence of the Holy Spirit inside of me. But I am so grateful, in good times and bad.

So, yes, God will give you more than you can handle. He will bless you more than you deserve. Cast your cares on Him and trust Him. Accept His blessings and praise Him. God is there with you in all things at all times. That’s a promise you can cling to no matter what life brings each day.

July 2, 2018

Mental Illness Destroys

The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. – Psalm 34:18

The tears came down. He was in a church, surrounded by family and friends who’d come to support him as deep grief laid her ugly hand on him. He wasn’t there for a funeral service. He was there to hold a news conference about his wife’s death.

Suicide is such an ugly thing. We don’t want to talk about it. We want to focus on the life of the person we’ve lost and forget that she chose to leave us. But did she? Mental illness is a disease. It’s not a choice.

Mental illness is something that is so misunderstood. We want to believe that because we can’t “see” it, maybe it doesn’t really exist. That’s especially true when the sick person appears healthy and normal to most of us. Masks can hide pain but the pain is still real.

It’s hard for some to accept that. They get angry and remind us of all those who fought hard to live. Those that died from cancer and ALS and heart failure and so many other diseases. They wanted desperately to live and yet here is a person who made a choice to die.

But did she? Is suicide ever really a choice when the person is mentally ill? Perhaps the choice comes when someone is terminally ill and chooses to end their life rather than suffer to the end. But not someone who is mentally ill. They aren’t capable of making that choice.

We ask how they could possibly commit suicide when so many people love them. Someone who is mentally ill doesn’t see it that way. They are tired, weary of the struggle, convinced that those who love them would be better off without them.

There’s a part of me that hopes you can’t understand. That dark hole is unforgiving. It sucks the very life from your soul. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

There are many ways to commit suicide. None of them are pretty. All of them come with a high cost. We can ignore that cost or we can turn it to good. We can use it to teach others, to hold them close, to show them a different way.

I am alive today because of Jesus. I could talk about medicine and therapy and so many other things that are good and helpful. But I learned to keep going through the hopelessness because I learned to lean heavily on my Savior.

I am not here to judge anyone. None of us truly know the inner workings of another’s mind and heart. But I do know that hope, true hope, comes in knowing deep inside that you are not alone. There is someone greater than all of us that carries us when we just can’t face the hours in the day.

My heart breaks for Alabama Attorney General Steve Marshall, his daughter and their family. Nothing can take away their grief and the questions that will forever haunt them. But we can support them and others who walk this path. We can seek to understand his wife’s illness. And we can be kind to those around us. We never really know what they are going through until it’s too late to make a difference.