Song of Praise

Psalm 32:7 “You are my hiding place; You will protect me from trouble and surround me with songs of deliverance.” My emotions ebb and flow with the circumstances of my life, after all, I am human and I cannot help but be affected by situations that are difficult. This grief journey that I have been on this past year has been like being on train that is going across the country and stops at every station. Even though I am moving forward and creating a normal, there are many stops on the way that I just choose to get off and linger for awhile. Each and every time I take a break from moving forward, I look back at the memories that have been created, the love and the life I had before I got on the train. Some of the stops are incredibly painful and there are times I just need to cry deeply from the depths of my soul. In order for me to re-engage with life, I must let go and get back on the train. I cannot relive every moment of my life, wishing things were different. If I only look in the rearview mirror of my life, I’m not going to be able to move forward. Sometimes I get anxious about what lies ahead on this train of life, but the Lord is teaching me not to look too far into the future, but to stay in the moment, and to enjoy the day. God wants me to trust Him because He will give me the resources I need to begin my new normal. Fear takes stock in the inadequacies of my life and God wants me to focus on His abundant provision for me. One of the things He is teaching me to do is to sing praises to Him when I become overwhelmed with sadness and sorrow. Growing up I learned so many songs that were actually scriptures. Charles Spurgeon said, “Any fool can sing in the day… It is easy to sing when we can read the notes by daylight; but the skillful singer is he who can sing when there is not a ray of light to read by… Songs in the night come only from God; they are not the power of man.” When there is praise and worship in the heart of a broken person, there is never any room for anything but gratitude and thanksgiving. God inhabits the praises of His people. Worship is not ignoring or dismissing the pain; it’s acknowledging that God is greater than the pain. Paul and Silas were imprisoned for preaching the gospel in Philippi. Prisons back then were far more primitive than today; they were dark and there was no ventilation, but instead of questioning God as to why they were in the situation they were in, the Bible tells us, “But at midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the prisoners were listening to them.” (Acts 16:25.) Singing songs and praising God? No wonder the other prisoners were listening, because their songs must have been like a bright ray of light shining hope into that dark, dingy prison. I have come to the realization that I can hold a worship service for myself at any time of the day or night, and it can just be me and the audience of One. I can sing to my God and He is always delighted by my voice (unfortunately, not many others are!). But something magical happens when I sing praises to my Lord, something supernatural that I cannot explain. It’s almost as if I am finally doing what I was created to do, worship. It is in that moment when I find my peace, when I begin singing, “You are my hiding place; You always fill my heart with songs of deliverance whenever I am afraid; I will trust in You, I will trust in You. Let the weak say I am strong in the strength of the Lord.” -- Melody

Thank You Jesus.......

As I looked down, my breath caught, and I was immersed in a moment I wanted to stay immersed in. What I saw were the glowing embers of a campfire, still intensely brilliant, still embracing my own spirit. And yet, in my hand, was only a small votive candle, its singular flame signifying my commitment before God, before others, and before the daughter I believed was watching from Heaven, to be the light of her remembrance that could still impact the lives of others. The flame represented Tonia’s light of influence fusing with my own light of influence to give Hope and assurance to others in their own brokenness, that the God who knows and sees, the God of all wisdom and capability, He loves, He cares, and He gives. The burning embers shouted my privilege, and my spirit shouted my gratitude that God would give me such a privilege, literally, beauty from the ashes of tragedy. Thank You, Jesus.......... My thoughts in that moment also reflected words I wrote years ago....... “This light” represented my child. “This light” captured the eternality of my child, an eternality I am still able to embrace here on earth, and an eternality I will embrace forever in Heaven. My child may have died physically, but she is very much alive within my own life, very much alive as her memory continually speaks to me in thousands of ways, and very much alive as I love and as I give compassion. It is an eternality I will not allow Satan to snuff out, but rather an eternality that has become a light to still others who walk the journey of grief. I long for that light to shine, brilliantly and profusely, until Jesus comes to reunite me with my child. And within that reunion, I will be even more aware than I am today, that the only reason my light could shine, was because of Jesus. He is the one who brings light into the darkness of grief, and He is the one who allows the brevity of life to find purpose and meaning, even as His arms of compassion bring comfort. Jesus spoke to the people once more and said, “I am the light of the world. If you follow me, you won’t have to walk in darkness, because you will have the light that leads to life.” For God, who said, “Let there be light in the darkness,” has made this light shine in our hearts so we could know the glory of God that is seen in the face of Jesus Christ. God is our merciful Father and the source of all comfort. He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us. "You are the light of the world – like a city on a hilltop that cannot be hidden. No one lights a lamp and then puts it under a basket. Instead, a lamp is placed on a stand, where it gives light to everyone. This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine. This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine. This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine. Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine. Let it shine til Jesus comes. I'm gonna let it shine. Let it shine til Jesus comes. I'm gonna let it shine. Let it shine til Jesus comes. I'm gonna let it shine. Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine. — Bev (Related Bible reading: John 8:12; 2 Corinthians 4: 6; 2 Corinthians 1:3,4; Matthew 5:14,15) ...

A Very Personal Psalm

In the quiet of aloneness, my heart remembers and the fear brings a fresh outpouring of tears. The fear is not irrational; it is real and it is based on facts. I am afraid of the future. I am too aware of what it might hold. I know. I understand. I have walked this way before. My heart cries out its desire to not walk it again. O God! Loving, heavenly Father! I know You remember even better than I do the sorrow I once bore – the incredible weight of loss and terror. I cannot walk this way again! Like David, I walk in my aloneness with the company of my tears. The words of a hymn I have sung many times before compel me to listen. I surrender all. I surrender all. All to Thee, my blessed Savior, I surrender all. I listen again – All to Jesus I surrender, all to Him I freely give; I will ever love and trust Him, in His presence daily live. My heart holds tightly to its desire. Father, must I loosen my grip? The fear is too great! The questions assault my thinking. What if the past is replayed in the present? What if its horror is inflicted on still others? How will we all cope? What will happen to our faith? God’s Spirit reminds me that letting go is not abandonment of care or love. Letting go is simply letting God be God in an unknown future and walking, trusting, that He will never leave us and He will never change. To let God hold my trembling heart is to know that from ashes He can still bring beauty – even when my heart cries out against the ashes. Father, can’t I know what lies ahead? Waiting can distort faith and perspective. Waiting accentuates the negative. His Spirit speaks again. Trust does not ask for answers. Trust simply asks for Me. I will walk where you walk. I will hold you tightly in My arms, whatever the future holds, whatever the waiting demands. I will warm you with My love and embrace your fears in My peace. My heart loosens its grip. O God! I give myself to You! I know my struggle is not over for the waiting is still before me and I do not know the place it will take me to. But wherever it is, I know You will be there – for me and for others. And I know that as I wait, in Your loving patience you will encourage me, and you will wipe away my tears. And if my fears taunt or shout, You will quiet them with the gentle reminders of Your presence. From David’s heart, the words echo, “I am trusting you, O Lord, saying, ‘You are my God!’ My future is in your hands.” – Bev (Related Bible reading: Psalm 18:1-6, 16-19, 30-36)

Delight in God’s Word

Isaiah 66:2 “Has not My hand made all these things, and so they came into being? declares the LORD. These are the ones I look on with favor: those who are humble and contrite in spirit, and who tremble at My word.” I have been truly enjoying and delighting in God’s Word these past months. It’s almost as if the Lord has taken me from a vast dry desert wasteland into a lush tropical oasis where I can picture myself dangling my feet into a refreshing bubbling stream. Over the past year, my Lord has showered me with words of comfort, He is instilling in me a supernatural healing balm that has woven into my soul hope, perspective and purpose that I had never had before, even before my son passed away. I have been soaking God’s truth into the broken and empty places of my heart, saturating myself daily with the Living Water that has finally brought me to a place of worship and praise. It’s taken awhile to get here, but ultimately it was the emptiness and the hole in my soul that it took to bring me to my knees, to a place of utter submission and total surrender to my Lord. I have come to understand that God is looking for a heart to dwell in, a heart that is tender and broken, not one concerned with the externalities of religion. God is looking to dwell in the heart of a person who loves and thrives on His Word, one who has been broken beyond repair. He has revealed His love for me in my brokenness in a way far greater than I could have ever asked or imagined. Psalm 34:18 says, “The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” I have found myself totally dependent upon my Lord for my daily survival, from one moment to the next; with every breath that I take, I am living and breathing in His Word. My daily prayer has been, “What now Lord; what would You have me do next?” I want so desperately to understand His purpose in all that has occurred; my spirit within me is crying for relief from the overwhelming pain and sorrow I have experienced from losing my child. I have been humbled to the core and crushed by the weight of my brokenness and pain. Yet it has been in these deep dark valleys that I have found my true peace, I have found strength and the ability to rise up out of the pit and begin my journey to the mountaintop once more. Ephesians 4:13-14 tells us that He has been equipping us so that we will “reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ. Then we will no longer be infants, tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching.” Oneness and harmony in the body of Christ is possible when and if we each individually become one with our God. We were never meant to be alone on this planet. Our God wants every single believer to manifest the qualities of His Son who Himself is the standard for our spiritual maturity and perfection. When I am grounded in God’s Word and the knowledge of who He really is, I will have discernment when the waves come crashing down and when my world falls apart. There is no one on this earth who can comprehend the depths of my journey except for my Lord and I must come to a place where I know beyond a shadow of doubt who God really is so that I can attain the fullness of Christ, so I will be able to survive the tornados that blow into my world and threaten to bring me to my knees. After all, He created everything that we are encountering. He brings the winds and rains, He causes the sun to rise and to set, and “He made the storm be still and the waves of the sea were hushed.” (Psalm 107:29) His hands have made all things, and everything that has come into being has been declared by Him and I believe that ultimately He will use it all to His glory, forever and ever. Amen. – Melody

A Letter to My Daughter

My dearest daughter, I have never written to you before and I realize that only if Jesus deems it wise, will He reveal to you the contents of this letter. I probably need to write it more than you need to read it. The truths I have learned, you learned long ago. The perspective on earth is so distorted. It is focused on a time and on places, belongings, events, possessions, and achievements that are sooo temporary. The brevity of life here as I work, play, relate, and become, is recognized more vividly the older I get. I know the expression, “when I lost you,” probably sounds strange to you because the home you have known all these years creates such a sense of belonging for you, and there would be no thought or longing on your part to find a home anywhere other than where you are. In my temporal world though, your presence was no longer here, and it was as if that presence I had so much longed for, had slipped from my hands and left my arms empty of the infant I literally ached to caress and nurture. My heart never “lost” you though, and still, these many years later, there is a tender place that belongs to only you. Today, had you stayed here, you would already be a mom yourself, and you would be immersed in the busyness of your home, your community, and prayerfully, your church. All good things, but they cannot compare to the good you have embraced within the reality of something I can still only hope for, although I recognize the certainty of that hope. And with whatever “good” this place that has been so contaminated by sin can still offer, you would have also known tears of sorrow and the heartache of disappointment. You may have also known the complexities of spiritual and emotional struggles, the failures of relationships, the inadequacies of personal striving, the void left by pursuit and attainment. And yet, you have known none of these. Instead you know an aliveness and a completion, a satisfaction and a saturation, that simply isn’t even possible within the earthly realm. I long for a sense of the reality of God’s presence and the joy and exuberance of worship and communion with Him and with His Son, that far exceeds human possibility within a still mortal body. All this belongs to you, and so much more! I would never call you back, and yet, because my heart never “lost” you, you give to me over and over again. As I imagine the reunions that must occur in Heaven and the excitement of welcoming others who come, my heart becomes eager to know the same reality that you know. But as I stay in the place God has for me now, that tender place in my heart is tender too towards the hurts and disappointments of others. My heart has been enlarged and my capacity to give has been stretched by grace. I am far from perfect, but some day I will share in the perfection you already have shared in. And as I wait, I pray that the heavenly Father you have known so intimately all these years, will be more and more at home in my heart, that I would be no stranger to His presence when I am blessed to share it with you, my daughter. Much love, Mom 2 Corinthians 5:1-8

We Are Conquerors

Romans 8:37 “In all things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us.” The Bible tells us that nothing can separate us from the love of God. In whatever we think will take His love away, He tells us nothing can do that. He lets us know that in all things we will be more than conquerors through Him because He loves us. So what does that all mean: ALL – the whole quantity or extent of a group or thing MORE -- a greater or additional amount of something CONQUEROR – one who successfully overcomes a problem or weakness (gains or wins) No matter what we face, death of a child, divorce, mental illness, wayward child or any trials Satan throws at us, we will be more than a conqueror. So what does being more than a conqueror look like? We can walk through our trials being angry and bitter. We can take what has happened to us and bottle it up and let it fester. Or, we can take what has happened and turn it into something we never thought possible. When I lost my daughter Katie, I thought my life was over. Nothing good could ever come out of such a loss. Oh, how wrong I was! The Lord has taken a wasteland of grief and turned it into a land of milk and honey. I challenge you to take this loss and find a way to use it to help others. Reach out to someone who is struggling. Walk beside them. That is the first step to let Satan know that the Lord and you will win this battle for your soul. We are the champions, my friend, with Him by our side. – Michele

Sharing God’s Sunshine

Sitting at my dining room table, I was enjoying my cup of coffee, and the young woman across from me was beginning to relax, although she still seemed somewhat hesitant when I asked her about her miscarriage. Getting up to go into the kitchen, I was feeling God’s tug on my heart to be a little more open myself. I looked over my shoulder at her and quietly asked, “Did you know I lost a baby at full term?” Her look of surprise allowed her to ask me a few questions and as I shared some of the struggle and the journey that had been mine, she began to unleash all the thoughts and emotions that she had been carefully guarding. As I listened, I realized she had been in an emotional and spiritual struggle with no one to really talk with and no one even who really gave recognition to the loss she had been through. Knowing I was empathetic with her struggle and wanting too some spiritual direction, she opened her heart as I silently thanked God that I had responded to His gentle, but insistent, tug. Responding to the need of another when we can relate deeply because of our own hurts and disappointments can be difficult. The loss of a loved one, the failure of a marriage, the broken promises of a friend, personal limitations, the facts and consequences of living with alcoholism, abuse, or ridicule, or the tragedies and horrors of nature or man out of control – all of these are relived in their emptiness and searing pain when we feel the tears and the heartache of someone who in so many ways is “just like me.” The darkness of her soul wants to darken mine. It is then we need to remember the comfort God has given us. Remember His love and His gentleness. Remember the strength of His embrace, as we cried our own tears of confusion and sorrow. Remember His guidance and His sufficiency, and remember the sunshine He gave that in time dispelled the darkness. And in remembering, hold tightly to the hand and the heart of the one whose darkness is still surrounding her, and bring her to God’s arms of love and help her find the radiance of His sunshine. You will both be comforted. 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 will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. – Bev (Related Bible reading: 2 Corinthians 1:3-7)