who he is

Some people that we know are dealing with some really, really sad things. We're dealing with some hard stuff. We've cried and are grieving and wrestling with the whys. We struggle with what to do with them in our own hearts, how to pray for and be with people in the midst. Crazy questions and ideas and accusations can crop up and haunt these vulnerable places in our souls. What do we do with the pain? Where do we go?

This morning David and I talked about the story in John 9 of the man born blind. Skeptics questioned Jesus--Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind? I totally feel that question. What have we done wrong? But we've been reveling in Jesus' response--It was not that this man sinned or his parents, but that the works of God may be displayed in him. Job losing everything, Abraham and Sarah awaiting and awaiting and awaiting a baby, Mary and Martha wrenched by their brother's tomb, how many others? ...and every time it was the same story "that the works of God may be displayed." It's the same story. And that's what we want. We want his works in our lives because he is the all-wise, all-loving, all-good God. May we trust his goodness and his provision and his purpose.

Oh, may the works of God may be displayed within all of these aching unknowns and deep sorrows. Oh, may we remember and joyfully worship this God for just who he is. His purposes are good. Always.

for freedom

David & I read a letter from International Justice Mission last night and they told a story about how when people are rescued from slavery in India they get to go through a two year school called Freedom Training. I wondered what it was. And sorta wished that I could go through it. And then I wanted to go visit, take loads of notes and work to incorporate that kind of training into our family, church, community as people are exposed to the very present, real reality of spiritual bondage into which we were all born and from which we have the opportunity to be freed through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

This song has been such a good reminder to our family. We're singing it in the morning before we leave--just to remember! Always to remember. Everyday.

Some of my favorite lyrics:

The Spirit 

lives inside of me;

where the Spirit of the Lord lives 

there is liberty! 

When the spirit of the world comes 

to kill me and enslave me

I will say--

There is liberty!

For the chains of sin 

that once entangled me

--now they're broken, 

how I'm singing now I'm free.

There is liberty!

You don't take his life,

he laid it down.

He paid the price

and shed his blood.

It is done!

The veil is torn

He is won

and I am free!

For freedom you set me free!

And yes! I am free indeed!

You rewrote my name 

and shackled my shame, 

you opened my eyes to see

--I am free!

Amen!

home to Jesus

This is a letter written by my mom this morning.
*******

     Yesterday I sat by Mama's bed. She hadn't eaten for a day or two, and her voice was deep and raspy. I couldn't understand everything she said. We've talked often in the last months about being ready to go to heaven. She knew she wasn't good enough. Welcome to our world! NO ONE IS! But she was confident that Jesus had made a way for her. She would brighten when I would remind her of one of my favorite verses: "Therefore He--that's Jesus--is able to save completely those who come to God through Him, because He always lives to intercede for them." (Heb 7:25)

     I had my name tag on--Mrs Stepanian. I had come straight from Good News Club. If you know Mama, you know she read that name tag. So I told her today's Bible memory verse, "Yet to all who received Him, to those who believed in His name, He gave the right to become children of God. John one twelve."
     "That's a good one."
     That is where her hope lies: in the One who made the world, came to live on it and die for sins of the people, be buried and raised to life forever in heaven, giving those who believe in Him this amazing right--to become children of God. Wow.

     I sat longer than usual yesterday. I sang through a bunch of old hymns, what words I could remember. She mouthed some of them with me.

Holy, Holy, Holy....God in three Persons, Blessed Trinity


Hear Him, ye deaf, His praise, ye dumb, your loosened tongues employ.
Ye blind behold your Savior come, and leap ye lame for joy.


On Christ the Solid Rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand.


Then sings my soul, My Savior God, to Thee
How great Thou art....


Yes, Jesus loves me, the Bible tells me so.

     At one point I said, "Mom, it's OK to say goodbye to this world."
     Her quick response sounded flippant, "OK. Good bye, world!"

     Then I said, "I look forward to the day I'll see you in heaven."
     At that she smiled and rasped, "That will be a great day for both of us."

     Mama still had her wits about her. For some reason I was thinking about Mom in her garden. She grew basil, a burgundy colored one, long before TV chefs were chiffonading it or Trader Joe's put pesto in a jar. And she had always pronounced it baa-zil (a like in bat. Which is the pronunciation given in my dictionary, just so you know!) I asked her, "Do you pronounce it basil or bayzil?"
     "Baa zil."
     "Ahlmond or aamond?" "Aypricot or aapricot?" "Pecon or pecan?" She gave her right answers....

     Later the hospice nurse came in, amazed at Mama's alertness. I turned to Mama to show off that she was still very much present. "Mama, is it basil or basil?"
     "Basil"
     "Is it almond or almond?" She paused.
     "Nuts."
     That made the nurse and me laugh. She wasn't going to play my game.

     That may have been the last word I heard her say. I talked some more with the nurse. I kissed Mama goodbye. She waved as I left the room.

At 10:30 pm her caregiver called. "Your mom is gone."

I didn't know if I should laugh or cry. Finally gone to Jesus!

She was 99. Ready.

I thank God for making me ready to say good bye.


Liz

resurrection

Now when he arose early

on the first day of the week,

he appeared first to

Mary Magdalene

from whom he had cast out seven demons. (Mark 16:9)

Jesus, who

are you? What

kind

of a man, a God

that you—pure,

holylovethatisfire—

go first to the woman—unclean,

shamed, despised—

the woman healed.

The woman come early worshipping,

bringing beauty and spices (from where?)

soft,following and ministering to

you

appeared.