Sunday, July 10, 2011

The loss of so many things... But God is still GOoD!

As a follow-up to the previous post.. this post shows a glimmer of a few feelings that were typed out, but never posted on the date indicated... It's just a glimpse of where I've been traveling on this 2011 journey's road...

April 23, 2011

So much is going on. So many things has my eyes perputually leaking; it's a continual spill, an incessant weeping. So many things has my heart bleeding from a sorrowing hurt. An ache that won't quit. A ruptured torturing. An uncontrollable hemorrhaging. There's so much we have no control over. So many "endings" to things that are hard to give up... and that are hard to imagine living life without. It's been wild. Relentless. Ravashing. An unyielding pursuit of a devouring enemy. Any one of them in itself could be a spiraling depression to most. And yet, God is still GOoD! He still fills me full! I still feel (and am) so hugely wonderfully blessed. He still thrills me, whoas me, enamors me, endears me. He's still Sovereign. He's still The Great I Am! He still has a plan and a purpose and knows what He's doing. Each day ordained for me that's been written in His book before even one of them began is still right on schedule ,it hasn't been thwarted. He still knows better than we do. And I still trust Him in all that is happening.

Two weeks ago (against all of our want-to) we lost a very dear friend to the very aggressive and ravishingly devastating disease of cancer. Two months ago our company closed to bankruptcy. And in the current moment we have a great-nephew (Asher) who's in the hospital... and a daddy that's just gotten out and went home to Hospice. (Just to name a few... some are still too tender to speak of.)

Asher was born 6 weeks early and has been fighting for his life since he's been here. He's doing better now. And things on his part look much more hopeful than they first did. But still, his mom has yet to get to hold him. And she aches not only from the want, but from the need inside her that begs her to.

My daddy's so sick. He hurts so badly. He lives in misery. He can hardly whisper. He constantly asks in the tiniest, tiniest breathless whisper, "Help me... Help me... Help me..." because of his pain. He can't eat. Can't swallow at all (not even his saliva, we're having to suction it out). He's losing blood from who knows where (normal blood count is 12, his was a 6; it's considered severe at 7). He's so swollen. He needs to, but can't go to the bathroom. His back is unbearable. His breathing so labored. His such a modest person, and yet all dignity is being robbed.

UGH, I keep thinking, THIS AIN'T NO WAY TO LIVE! 

Last Saturday they put in a feeding tube inside him, which at first he refused to have, but panic forced him to give in. He needs the tube, not just for food, but to get his Parkinson's medicine... which hopefully will make his swallowing possible again. Now he's regretting he agreed to it. He's afraid the tube will keep him alive forever in this same horrific state that he's in, but never help him to get any better... instead just prolong his agony. 

He needs open heart surgery. He needs back surgery. He has Parkinson's. And they're afraid that his colon cancer has come back. They can't do heart surgery because of his back. They can't do back surgery because of his heart. They can't do anything more than they're doing for the Parkinson's. And we don't even want to know if we want to know or not if his cancer's returned.

I don't know the answers. What I do know is that this hellish hurt is not what I'd want for myself. It's awful to watch him suffering. I don't want him to go, I can't imagine him not here, but I don't want him to have to live like he's living.

But you know, with all of the losses, I keep thinking that we've got it so backward.... we're not living for this life... but for the next one. Yet, it's so hard to let one leave! Our days are still numbered... and God, for each of us, ordered and ordained each one. He knows when our days on this earth are done. And we can't even imagine what it's like finally seeing our Savior face-to-face. Wonder what exactly it is that my friend (that just left this earth for his Heavenly Home) sees now, that we have yet to?

I keep remembering these scriptures....

"There is a time
for everything,
and a season
for every activity under heaven;
a time to be born
and a time to die,
a time to plant
and a time to uproot,
a time to kill
and a time to heal,
a time to tear down
and a time to build up,
a time to weep
and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn
and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones
and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace
and a time to refrain,
a time to search
and a time to give up,
a time to keep
and a time to throw away,
a time to tear
and a time to mend,
a time to be silent
and a time to speak,
a time to love
and a time to hate,
a time for war
and a time for peace.
What does the worker gain for his toil?
I have seen the burden God has laid on men.
He has made everything beautiful
in its time.
He has also set eternity
in the hearts of men;
they cannot fathom
what God has done
from beginning
to end."

But then, after remembering all those times, my mind keeps these particular times rolling around inside it, "There's a time to be born..... and a time to die.... a time to uproot..... a time to tear down..... a time to weep...... and a time  to mourn... "

Those are the times that I'm in.

I don't like the time.

I'm scared of it.

Indeed, there is a time for this and a time for that... but never a time to hold time back time. And some "times" are so much harder than others! Some "times" we'd all hold back and keep from coming completely if we could! We'd like to avoid them, simply skip over them, detour around them, and stop our clocks from ticking and landing on them.

In the midst of our "die" time (because whether we want it or not, or admit to it or not, it is what "time" our clocks are reading), it's comforting to know that whether we like the time or not, the time is still controlled by The Time Holder. And He still "makes beautiful" in His time! And in our time, we "cannot fathom what God has done (and is doing) from beginning to end." His plans are GOoD! He has purpose and reason. And our minds cannot imagine what our God is doing in the midst of our dark!

I think that my mom after dad's death knows that she'll feel much like the psalmist said in Ps 39:7, "But now, Lord, what do I look for?...", "Now Lord, for what do I wait?"

And then, even when being able to know her answer, "My hope is in You".... "My hope is in Thee".... her hope is focused on him (little "h"...not the Big One). 

God IS our Hope! Ultimately, only Him and Him alone. With no better hope to be had. And that being so, when we're in the midst of our wearing it, we can ask ourselves what another psalmist asked, (Ps 42:5-6; 77:1-15), "Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise Him, my Savior and my God. My soul is downcast within me; therefore I will remember You......... I cried out to God for help; I cried out to God to hear me. When I was in distress, I sought the Lord; at night I stretched out untiring hands and my soul refused to be comforted. I remembered You, O God, and I groaned; I mused, and my spirit grew faint. Selah. You kept my eyes from closing; I was too troubled to speak. I thought about the former days the years of long ago; I remembered my songs in the night. My heart mused and my spirit inquired: "Will the Lord reject forever? Will He never show His favor again? Has His unfailing love vanished forever? Has His promise failed for all time? Has God forgotten to be merciful? Has He in anger withheld His compassion?" Selah. Then I thought, "To this I will appeal: the years of the right hand of the Most High." I will remember the deeds of the LORD; yes, I will remember Your miracles of long ago. I will meditate on all Your works and consider all Your mighty deeds. Your ways, O God, are holy, what god is so great as our God? You are the God who performs miracles; You display Your power among the peoples. With Your mighty arm YOU REDEEMED Your people...."

And she longs (again) for His miracle!

But expects and dreads that it won't be in keeping him here. Deep down inside she already foresees that our God has plans to take him Home.

But! He does redeem! He heals our hurts! He mends our brokenhearts. He puts our pieces back together again. He makes beautiful from the ashes that burn. He makes a Display of His Splendor in all that we go through after He's worked it ALL out FOR good!

It's not easy. But our God's good. And though our spouses might, He's not left us. And He's not forsook. And in all that He takes and all that He's took... in all of His sifting and refining... He has something when finished splendid to reveal in us! Jesus! Simply Jesus!

Oh Lord, when it boils down to it, it's all we need and all we want. Though You slay us, yet will we still hope in You! Our Redeemer LIVES... how our hearts yearn within to SEE Him and the redeeming He's specifully got planned!


Since writing that, my daddy's left this place and now lives in the presence of the Lord that he's lived his life loving. He left here and moved there on my sweet son's 18th birthday. Boy, that was hard! We're happy for him, thrilled for him, but miss him greatly! He's stayed on our minds. As my mama said, "It doesn't matter if we're talking about the whales in the fartherest oceans, the blackbirds in the far away lands, the missionaries in Tibet, or three-legged animals in Africa's animal kingdom... it all goes back to him. Every thing said or every thought thunk... everything comes back to Sonny." And yes, it is that way for her especially, isn't it? Everything now pivots around him. Her thoughts are separated, he envades each one..

My youngest daughter was cleaning the other day and found a poem she once wrote in a class. It was beautiful! I felt it perfect! It's what I'll end with. It's about tears. Her last line's my favorite!

A Taste of Sadness
by: Sabrina Wynn Lee

Cold. Wet.

Is the way that it feels.

Running down,

Hitting the ground.

It brings out pain.

Pain that no one would ever know.

A secret between it and I.

Most times it's because I'm sad.

Other times could be because I'm glad.

A sweet and bitter taste it brings.

Running down.

Hitting the ground.

So much pain.

So much hurt.

A tear is all but words.


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