This past week has been one of freakish circumstances and what seems to be unreasonable pain. Circumstances that didn't happen to me directly but somehow managed to affect me deeply. And physical pain that seems to come out of nowhere(difficult to accept for those of us who want black and white answers to everything.)
Monday was a weird day that shook us but left us seemingly ok. Monday night I came home from Cheddars and the movie theater with Connor, Grammie, and Lauren. The movie was great. But one little word sparked an angry burst from me that was alarming. What, I'm angry? Why? What? I'm pretty much heart broken? What? I can't sleep because everytime I lay my head on the pillow a new breaker of tears washes over me?
I've asked a lot of questions about why bad things happen, why God seems to let evil go on, why there is so much brokenness. But that night was not a night for those questions. I can't say I have specific answers, but I don't feel like I'm struggling to mount a beach ball in a surging ocean any more. I don't feel like everything is going to slip out from under me. I don't feel the need to ask "why" right now.
What I did feel was a deep pain for the brokenness that is, and the brokenness that will be until Jesus comes back. And now my question was, How? How, God, can we deal with this pain? How am I, looking from the outskirts, supposed to deal with it, and how in this breaking deluge are the people in the middle of the circumstances supposed to survive? I can't even hold up physically. I'm nothing but a stick of drift wood, God. How can people live in this hellhole we call a world and still smile, and laugh, and play?
It all sounds pretty miserable and Job-ish. But in the middle of this I read Malachi, and in chapter four, this verse suddenly changed me.
"And the sun of righteosness will rise with healing in His wings."
You know the verse in the gospels where Jesus says that His followers must hate their mothers and fathers in comparison to their love for Him? I know that Jesus loved every person and told us to follow suit, so obviously He means that we deeply love our families. But if we have to choose between family and Jesus, there isn't even a question...we pick Jesus.
He is so full of love that He cares deeply about family relationships, while our relationship with Him is so vast and deep that it entirely eclipses the love we have for our families. It's hard to believe.
Basically, from what I can see, God's people are going to experience a complete reverse solar eclipse of several thousand years worth of pain and sorrow. Jesus, blotting out the darkness...with light!
For just a moment, when I read the verse about Jesus healing His people, I could glimpse what Paul meant when he said "For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not to be compared with the glory to be revealed to us." (Romans 8:18)
If Revelations speaks truly that "He will wipe away every tear from their eyes." (Revelation 7:17) then we aren't going to be weeping in heaven for all the things that happened on earth. He will make all things new, and the joy we have with Him will be so vast it will completely eclipse anything painful we've ever experienced or witnessed.
No darkness will be able to enter the heavenly city. No gloom or depression. Nothing will be able to weigh us down. Our bodies will be free from the physical limitations of living in this fallen world. Free from sins that plague us. Free from the enemy's plots.
In a strange way, the suffering here doesn't matter. Don't get freaked out. I don't mean that in a New Agey way. It's not that suffering doesn't exist. It's not that we pretend it's not a big deal. It's never, ever that we react indifferently or harshly about it. But compared to the joy that waits for us, it doesn't even mark the radar. Why else could Peter, who suffered intensely, even willingly for the sake of the gospel say,
"And though you have not seen Him, you love Him, and though you do not see Him now, but believe in Him, you greatly rejoice with joy inexpressible and full of glory..."
1 Peter 1:8
"Do not let your heart be troubled; believe in God, believe also in Me. In my Father's house there are dwelling places; if it were not so I would have told you; for I go to prepare a place for you." John 14:1-2
How could I ever sleep at night if not for this? How would I get up in the morning? How would I make it past the age of 20? Even in a fallen world, God is the lifter of my head, the prince of peace, the God of comfort, author of faith, merciful father, God of hope. He brings joy to my soul. Even now! He brings laughter and victory, even now! He fills my life with good things, even now.
All He asks is that I believe. All He asks is that I follow the footsteps of the men and women of faith, the Abrahams, the Marys, the Gideons. All that He asks is that I remember, day after day, the joy set before me, just like Jesus did.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
No, I'm Not Coming Out...
Yesterday I was supposed to meet my friend Iryna and we were going to go for coffee or something like that, as we've done several times in the past few months. But yesterday the house felt so cozy and as usual, I was loath to leave my habitat. So I thought maybe I should bring her here and we could make cookies.
The more I thought about it, the happier I grew, so I finally called to ask if I could pick her up an hour earlier so we could do it. And she said yes. And when I drove up in the truck (a large white vehicle I like to call "The Tank") she was so elated that she hopped right in and gave me a big smooch on the cheek. I guess we were both missing Ukraine a bit.
Before stopping to get her, though, I had to make a Walmart run for baking supplies. Jiminy Cricket! The traffic...the hustle...the bustle...the lines!
I thought there were a lot more efficient people in the world. I thought last minute shopping was supposed to be the exception to the rule. Don't you guys want to go home? Isn't that what a holiday is for? Shouldn't pickup trucks be banned from the roads during Christmas holidays? Wait...I'm driving one...Ok, but I don't have a choice...couldn't the rest of ya'll have bought mini coopers or something? Not redneck enough for ya? I'll getcha some duct tape.
So I found two pounds of butter, two pounds of powdered sugar, and 8 ounces of creamed cheese. And I waited behind seven or eight carts in the express lane. The checker was holding out pretty well. I bet it's spiked eggnog for her tonight. She could probably use some extra Christmas cheer.
So I stood in line surveying the newest varieties of M&M's. Strawberried peanut butter??? What? I want to go home now. Gosh, I love to be home. Just two days ago I was all irritation about home. But I always get over that. It takes little more than a trip to Walmart. Abscence makes the heart grow fonder.
So, after sitting in traffic on the narrowest road in town with three hundred other pickup trucks and other such unwieldy vehicles through about four lights, I reached Iryna wrecklessly (without a wreck) and we went back to my house and made cream cheese cookies, which turned out super yum.
And now nothing can induce me to come out of hiding but dire emergencies or dear friends...until after Christmas.
The more I thought about it, the happier I grew, so I finally called to ask if I could pick her up an hour earlier so we could do it. And she said yes. And when I drove up in the truck (a large white vehicle I like to call "The Tank") she was so elated that she hopped right in and gave me a big smooch on the cheek. I guess we were both missing Ukraine a bit.
Before stopping to get her, though, I had to make a Walmart run for baking supplies. Jiminy Cricket! The traffic...the hustle...the bustle...the lines!
I thought there were a lot more efficient people in the world. I thought last minute shopping was supposed to be the exception to the rule. Don't you guys want to go home? Isn't that what a holiday is for? Shouldn't pickup trucks be banned from the roads during Christmas holidays? Wait...I'm driving one...Ok, but I don't have a choice...couldn't the rest of ya'll have bought mini coopers or something? Not redneck enough for ya? I'll getcha some duct tape.
So I found two pounds of butter, two pounds of powdered sugar, and 8 ounces of creamed cheese. And I waited behind seven or eight carts in the express lane. The checker was holding out pretty well. I bet it's spiked eggnog for her tonight. She could probably use some extra Christmas cheer.
So I stood in line surveying the newest varieties of M&M's. Strawberried peanut butter??? What? I want to go home now. Gosh, I love to be home. Just two days ago I was all irritation about home. But I always get over that. It takes little more than a trip to Walmart. Abscence makes the heart grow fonder.
So, after sitting in traffic on the narrowest road in town with three hundred other pickup trucks and other such unwieldy vehicles through about four lights, I reached Iryna wrecklessly (without a wreck) and we went back to my house and made cream cheese cookies, which turned out super yum.
And now nothing can induce me to come out of hiding but dire emergencies or dear friends...until after Christmas.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
A Room Cleaning Observed
All the clever things I was planning to write earlier in the day have flown my mind like little birds going south for the winter. But I live in south. So I don't know why my thoughts would want to fly anywhere.
Today I cleaned my room. I haven't done that in a long time, and I should have known better. I told myself it would only take thirty minutes, but an hour and a half and 2000 dust bunnies later, I was just getting warmed up.
It needed cleaning in those sneaky places like under the bed, on the window sills behind the blinds, and behind the Rubbermaid containers in my closet. Once the vacuum cleaner came out, I couldn't stop. It would have been an ideal situation, a joy to my mother, but the timing was bad. I needed to stop so I could have tea with Mrs. Burklin, which I was greatly looking forward to (and thoroughly enjoyed).
So I did claim victory over the vacuuming impulse. I found some things in the closet along the way. T-shirts, hoodies, someone's bow and arrow, my scattered drawing stuff, Mom's Christmas present, a lot of ladybugs.
Our house is infested with ladybugs. I vacuumed up dozens of them. The ladybug inundation marks the onset of winter at our house every year, and has done so for as long as I can remember. Whenever I am in bed watching them crawling around on the light fixture like little turtles, I think of my dear friend Chelsea. She walked into my room one day (ten or twelve years ago), got one look at the wildlife, and fled screaming. She eventually recovered.
I don't mind the ladybugs, if they stay on the ceiling. But the past two mornings I've woken to the sight of a little spotted bug scurrying along the line of my bed covers at eye level, and that's a little disconcerting. Especially since the little creeps let off such a stench if you disturb them. Connor said, "They're like little skunks in red suits." I wouldn't go that far, but...
I didn't get around to everything I could have done in there. There is still a huge Rubbermaid container full of all the cards and letters I've received since I was seven; that needs some attention. I can't carry those to and fro across the planet for the rest of my life.
I did put away the last little pile of gear from my last suitcase from Ukraine. So that is that. After five months, I guess it was about time.
Today I cleaned my room. I haven't done that in a long time, and I should have known better. I told myself it would only take thirty minutes, but an hour and a half and 2000 dust bunnies later, I was just getting warmed up.
It needed cleaning in those sneaky places like under the bed, on the window sills behind the blinds, and behind the Rubbermaid containers in my closet. Once the vacuum cleaner came out, I couldn't stop. It would have been an ideal situation, a joy to my mother, but the timing was bad. I needed to stop so I could have tea with Mrs. Burklin, which I was greatly looking forward to (and thoroughly enjoyed).
So I did claim victory over the vacuuming impulse. I found some things in the closet along the way. T-shirts, hoodies, someone's bow and arrow, my scattered drawing stuff, Mom's Christmas present, a lot of ladybugs.
Our house is infested with ladybugs. I vacuumed up dozens of them. The ladybug inundation marks the onset of winter at our house every year, and has done so for as long as I can remember. Whenever I am in bed watching them crawling around on the light fixture like little turtles, I think of my dear friend Chelsea. She walked into my room one day (ten or twelve years ago), got one look at the wildlife, and fled screaming. She eventually recovered.
I don't mind the ladybugs, if they stay on the ceiling. But the past two mornings I've woken to the sight of a little spotted bug scurrying along the line of my bed covers at eye level, and that's a little disconcerting. Especially since the little creeps let off such a stench if you disturb them. Connor said, "They're like little skunks in red suits." I wouldn't go that far, but...
I didn't get around to everything I could have done in there. There is still a huge Rubbermaid container full of all the cards and letters I've received since I was seven; that needs some attention. I can't carry those to and fro across the planet for the rest of my life.
I did put away the last little pile of gear from my last suitcase from Ukraine. So that is that. After five months, I guess it was about time.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
You are so Embarrassing Me!
"I'll be glad when Mom is my teacher."
That's what my little brother said this morning, slouching in his desk while I tried to control my laughter. He said this because I am his teacher right now, and I embarrassed him. It was not intentional at all. I merely pointed out that a "b" has a big belly and a "d" has a big bottom, because sometimes he doesn't remember which letter goes which way. Visual usually helps, but Ethan just got mad at me. And they say I need to lighten up!
He was also mad because I kept trying to speak Russian to him. What could have been a great learning opportunity turned out to be a pain. It drove him crazy. So I stopped. But I could hardly help myself!
During breakfast I pored over a library book on the Czech immigrants in Texas. At the end is a Czech pronunciation guide, and with this magic key, I was able to unlock precious mysteries. You wouldn't know from looking at the words, because the Czech and Russian alphabets are so different, but the two languages are extremely similar. Once I knew what the funny hats and lines meant, I could sound out words that were, if not siblings, rather close cousins to the Russian ones. *squeals of delight*
I only know enough Russian to be annoying, and even less Ukrainian. Actually, Czech seemed more like Ukrainian than Russian, but they're all in the family. I declared that I wanted to learn all the languages in the world. And then I started school with Ethan.
No one else in the family cared about my exciting discoveries. One member was irritated, as aforementioned. I'm not sure why it means so much to me either. I guess I like how things are related to each other. When I see how languages interconnect, they no longer seem like random gibberish, but a series of complex patterns that could only have been designed by God.
Language discoveries are exhilarating, too, because love finding out how closely related we really are to people who seem completely foreign to us. People all over the world greet each other, they just do it in different ways. Every culture offers proverbs and words of wisdom, the worldviews are just different. Pretty much everyone in the world has to eat, and usually they have to work in order to eat. They sleep and wear clothes and try to get an education and get married and have families and funerals and holidays. We all just have different ways of talking about it.
Here is a thought from the Czechs that I appreciate:
"Everything has an end, but a sausage has two."
And this is certainly true:
"Without work there are no kolaches." (!)
And this is how the Czechs see it:
"Where a Czech housekeeper cooks, everything fares well."
I believe it!
(proverbs from Krasna Amerika, A Study of Texas Czechs, by Clinton Machann and James W. Mendl.)
So I will enjoy my little epiphanies as they come and try not to bother Ethan too much. After I did away with the Russian, math went much better and we even got to make a paper mache volcano which is now drying by the fire, waiting to be painted.
That's what my little brother said this morning, slouching in his desk while I tried to control my laughter. He said this because I am his teacher right now, and I embarrassed him. It was not intentional at all. I merely pointed out that a "b" has a big belly and a "d" has a big bottom, because sometimes he doesn't remember which letter goes which way. Visual usually helps, but Ethan just got mad at me. And they say I need to lighten up!
He was also mad because I kept trying to speak Russian to him. What could have been a great learning opportunity turned out to be a pain. It drove him crazy. So I stopped. But I could hardly help myself!
During breakfast I pored over a library book on the Czech immigrants in Texas. At the end is a Czech pronunciation guide, and with this magic key, I was able to unlock precious mysteries. You wouldn't know from looking at the words, because the Czech and Russian alphabets are so different, but the two languages are extremely similar. Once I knew what the funny hats and lines meant, I could sound out words that were, if not siblings, rather close cousins to the Russian ones. *squeals of delight*
I only know enough Russian to be annoying, and even less Ukrainian. Actually, Czech seemed more like Ukrainian than Russian, but they're all in the family. I declared that I wanted to learn all the languages in the world. And then I started school with Ethan.
No one else in the family cared about my exciting discoveries. One member was irritated, as aforementioned. I'm not sure why it means so much to me either. I guess I like how things are related to each other. When I see how languages interconnect, they no longer seem like random gibberish, but a series of complex patterns that could only have been designed by God.
Language discoveries are exhilarating, too, because love finding out how closely related we really are to people who seem completely foreign to us. People all over the world greet each other, they just do it in different ways. Every culture offers proverbs and words of wisdom, the worldviews are just different. Pretty much everyone in the world has to eat, and usually they have to work in order to eat. They sleep and wear clothes and try to get an education and get married and have families and funerals and holidays. We all just have different ways of talking about it.
Here is a thought from the Czechs that I appreciate:
"Everything has an end, but a sausage has two."
And this is certainly true:
"Without work there are no kolaches." (!)
And this is how the Czechs see it:
"Where a Czech housekeeper cooks, everything fares well."
I believe it!
(proverbs from Krasna Amerika, A Study of Texas Czechs, by Clinton Machann and James W. Mendl.)
So I will enjoy my little epiphanies as they come and try not to bother Ethan too much. After I did away with the Russian, math went much better and we even got to make a paper mache volcano which is now drying by the fire, waiting to be painted.
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