My name is Sarah. My husband is the inn keeper of this two-bit tavern in Bethlehem, though I do most of the work. Life has been a disappointment for me and I have been my husband’s disappointment.
I had two miscarriages and then finally a little girl. When my husband saw that it was a girl he frowned. He wanted a boy, and I cried. I guess I’ve become hardened. Life did not turn out as I expected. My husband buries his disappointment in his work; in this tavern. We are Jews but Yahweh has disappointed us so we just go through the motions.
As a woman, I wonder if a time will ever come that the arrival of a baby girl will be cause for as much joy as a baby boy. Will there ever be a man who sees a woman as an equal act of God and treat her as such? I have had to stuff down so much of my talents, thoughts, and opinions. There is a lot more I could do but I don’t think I’ll get the chance.
That all changed one cold night in Bethlehem when a young couple came to us seeking shelter at our packed Inn. My husband talked to them first and I came up behind him as he was shutting the door saying, “There is no room here.” I didn’t think much until I looked at the young woman in the beginning throes of childbirth. This was the night that changed my life. Let me tell you about it in my journal.
Thursday, April 13, 5 B.C.
Early evening, Bethlehem
Early yesterday evening a young couple arrived at our tavern seeking shelter. My “business as usual” husband was about to shut the door on them when I got a glimpse of the beautiful young woman in great discomfort. She was in labor. I think she was a painful reminder to my husband of having only one child, and not a son.
I blocked the door from being shut and stepped into the doorway in front of my husband, to his great annoyance. I looked at the young couple. Both had eyes filled with desperation and hope for a kind act. I felt a surge in my heart. I must help this couple. It was an overwhelming desire. More like a calling. I walked outside and took the young woman by the arm, along with her husband, shielding her from the crowds and staring eyes.
The handsome young husband politely and quietly told me, “This is my fiancée, Mary. I am Joseph.” Fiancée! And she was giving birth. I felt even more protective. Mary would be judged. I felt a mother’s protection for the young couple who were young enough to be my own children.
I didn’t know what I was going to do until I saw this donkey walking up the path with what I could swear was a silly grin. I almost thought he was going to talk to us.
Joseph in a lighthearted moment looked at me and chuckled, “That’s my donkey Good News. I count on him to bring me that very thing.”
I looked at the goofy donkey and an idea arose in my mind. I looked back at Joseph and said that I thought I had good news for him. It was not great news but at least better than the bad news he had gotten at our tavern. Follow me, I told them. We both led Mary down the path. The donkey turned around and followed us.
We arrived at the cave where we kept some of our livestock. I said it’s not much but it will have privacy and some warmth. Joseph quickly responded to my hesitating offer by saying, “Sarah, don’t worry. This is perfect.”
He thanked me repeatedly as we sat Mary down to make her comfortable. “I will be back in a minute with some blankets,” I offered. Mary groaned. I hurried back to the tavern and returned with the blankets from our bed. My husband and I will have to rely on each other for warmth tonight.
It wasn’t long before her time arrived. Joseph blurted out the strangest thing to me. He said, “Sarah, this child is special.” I smiled saying, “I know young man.”
He continued, “No, no Sarah. Special. This child is the child of Isaiah 7:14. This is the one we’ve heard about all of our lives from the prophets. He is the Son of the Most High.”
I stared in disbelief that turned to wonder as I looked into the face of Mary. She was in pain but smiled with tears, nodding her head. She said, “Sarah, believe. You will be blessed. Yes Sarah, you will be blessed as will all who make room for Him as you have.” Mary’s words were broken off by a contraction and a loud scream. Panic was on Joseph’s face. I took over. I am not a midwife but I knew what to do.
Joseph held Mary as the child began his descent from Mary’s womb. Later I would more accurately describe it as His descent from heaven. He slid into my arms as Mary fell back in exhaustion and yet she laughed through her sweat and tears; as did Joseph. I looked in wonder. The strangest thought came to me as I looked in His face for a brief second before I placed Him in the arms of his mother. I think this is the child who will become a man and bring dignity, honor, and respect to all women, to me. It was there that I determined I would follow the progress of this child and one day become His follower. If He would have me.
Mary, with joy, took her child. I quickly cleared out the manger and placed fresh straw in it and one of the blankets. Mary picked up the blanket and swaddled him. It was then I noticed the brightness of light outside.
I stepped out and beheld the brightest star I have ever seen. And then I heard something like thunder. I listened. The thunder continued. It was voices. A thousand voices singing the most beautiful song I have ever heard. “Glory! God! Highest!” These were the three words I could make out.
I turned back and entered to ask Mary and Joseph if they could hear it. But I couldn’t talk. I could only gaze at Mary as she took her baby to her breast and began to nurse him. Mary smiled at me and said, “His name is Yeshua. He is the Star Maker.” Joseph added that he has come to be with us; to bring Yahweh’s forgiveness of our sins. Mary added, “I am blessed among women, Sarah. But you are not far behind because God chose you to make room for him.”
I began to weep. I turned away. I prayed as I knelt for the first time in over 20 years. I heard footsteps and I looked up to see a motley band of shepherds out of breath and anxious. “We are looking for a newborn. He is…,” “the Son of the Most High,” I interrupted.
Yes, yes they anxiously responded. I dried my tears and said, “Come with me. I will take you to him.”
Friday, December 23, 2011
Sunday, December 18, 2011
A Donkey's Journal
Hi there. I am Joseph’s donkey. I want to share the most amazing story of my life. I’ve been with Joseph from the time he was a boy. He later named me Good News when he opened his carpentry store.
Joseph always talks to me but he doesn’t know I actually understand. People don’t think that animals can talk so we only talk amongst ourselves; although I have been known to give an obnoxious person or two a rise by blurting something out in the human language. My speaking always stops their speaking.
Anyway, I am getting off the point. Joseph named me Good News because he felt I always brought good news to him when we would journey together to sell his handiwork. I like the name a lot. Well I want to share my journal with you from back in 5…B.C. that is. It was early April…
April 6, 5 B.C.
Joseph was especially talkative this morning. He told me we were taking a trip to Bethlehem and that I would be carrying his beautiful fiancée Mary, whom I loved. She was quiet, reflective, and kind. I worried though when Joseph mentioned that she was close to giving birth. I knew I would have to make this as smooth a ride as possible. Joseph said something in a hushed tone that I did not understand. He came close to my ear and said, “Our lives and I think the world is about to change. Yahweh has sent the Bright Morning Star to my Mary.” He said it trembling with an anxious but joyful tone. He then said, “And you my friend will be part of this.” Like Mary I pondered this.
April 9, 5 B.C.
Our departure day arrived. Early in the morning we set out. Joseph helped Mary, large with child, on my back. I tried to bend down a little to make it easier for her but she still groaned in discomfort. We set out. I made my steps as smooth and rhythmic as possible for lovely expectant Mary. This journey would be especially difficult for a woman in Mary’s condition. Yet much of that day she sang hymns to my Maker and hers. One went like this…
I am blessed among woman
With your fruit in my womb
Come child I will nourish
The world will be your room
It sounded so sweet in Mary’s voice. I began to realize there was something special about this child. But what? “Your fruit in my womb,” she was singing this to our Maker. Who is this child?
April 10, 5 B.C.
We traveled all day and all of us are exhausted; Mary much more so than Joseph and me. She doesn’t look so good. I wish there was more that I could do. Joseph built a fire and roasted some fish. I don’t like fish but there was a delectable clump of grass and shrubs nearby. As I grazed I overheard the young humble couple.
Joseph: Are you alright Mary?
Mary: Uncomfortable love but Yahweh is my strength.
Joseph: Mary, I know He chose you but why me? What will I do?
Mary: My beloved, he will need a father. Guidance. A warm home. Love. Discipline. To be taught. Though he is the Son of God he will be our son to love, cherish, and nurture.
Joseph: You are right. How blessed we are amongst all the couples on earth. He chose us. He loves us. He has entrusted us with His son. Great is our God.
Mary: And I think, Joseph, many after us will be entrusted with him to love as we do. Do you wonder about his future? His purpose?
Joseph: His name is Yeshua. Yahweh has made a way for the forgiveness of sins. Some better way than the killing of a lamb.
Mary: He will be our lamb but we shall have to share him with all the world.
Joseph: Yes. The Lamb of God –
Mary: Who takes away the sins of the world.
They looked at each other as lovers do. They kissed. But it was more than just lovers. They had the determined look of those on a special mission.
April 11, 5 B.C.
Can’t sleep. Can’t stop thinking about what Mary and Joseph said and then my thoughts were interrupted by a growing soft but steady light. The light formed into the presence of a man. He spoke to me. “Good News, I am Gabriel sent from God. I am the angel sent to Mary, Joseph, and Zechariah. And now to you.”
“You have been chosen by God to carry His son to the place the prophets foretold concerning His birth. Bethlehem. The House of Bread! And the Bread of Life that feeds the salvation starved world will be born there. Good News! You are carrying the Good News of God to the entire world. To all of creation. Mary carries your Maker who will redeem even nature and all its creatures.”
I knelt in wonder. Then he left. Redemption for the entire world. God has remembered the day He created all the world and said it was good. This baby will make it good once more.
April 12, 5 B.C.
We’ve arrived in Bethlehem. Finally. It is so cold. Looking at Mary we arrived just in time. She has been moaning for hours now. Joseph has constantly prayed through her moaning. I did everything I could to make my steps soft and light. I can’t stop thinking I am carrying the woman who carries the Son of the Maker. My work has been given great honor. I think this child will bring dignity to all who work and serve. Joseph took Mary from my back. He was in a panic asking person after person where there was room to stay. Bethlehem was packed because of the census.
I watched as Joseph appealed to the last possibility of a place to stay. I heard the discouraging words of the Inn Keeper and saw Joseph’s dejected face. Then I had a crazy idea.
I know in a place like this there are a lot of other fellow animals. They have to stay someplace. So I headed down the nearest path to the tavern Joseph was at. Bingo! I could see a small cave about 100 yards from the tavern and I saw another donkey in front tied up. So, I sauntered down to him and told him my whole story.
This donkey’s name was Searcher. And looking at him I knew why. He had only three legs. He told me that he’s wondered all his life why the Maker made him this way. When I told him who this arriving child was he excitedly declared, “Maybe this child is the answer I have been searching for! Do you think we could have him stay here with the rest of us?” I simply smiled my big donkey smile and said, “Hee Haw! That’s exactly what I had in mind.” I headed back to Joseph and met him on the way up as he was carrying Mary toward me accompanied by a pleasant looking, middle-aged woman. I recognized her. Just as I had left she came to the door as the Inn Keeper and Joseph were talking. I think she is the Inn Keeper’s wife. It is possible she has my same idea. “Maker, please make a way for this child, Mary, and Joseph, “ I prayed under my breath.
Next week: The Inn Keeper’s wife’s journal…
Joseph always talks to me but he doesn’t know I actually understand. People don’t think that animals can talk so we only talk amongst ourselves; although I have been known to give an obnoxious person or two a rise by blurting something out in the human language. My speaking always stops their speaking.
Anyway, I am getting off the point. Joseph named me Good News because he felt I always brought good news to him when we would journey together to sell his handiwork. I like the name a lot. Well I want to share my journal with you from back in 5…B.C. that is. It was early April…
April 6, 5 B.C.
Joseph was especially talkative this morning. He told me we were taking a trip to Bethlehem and that I would be carrying his beautiful fiancée Mary, whom I loved. She was quiet, reflective, and kind. I worried though when Joseph mentioned that she was close to giving birth. I knew I would have to make this as smooth a ride as possible. Joseph said something in a hushed tone that I did not understand. He came close to my ear and said, “Our lives and I think the world is about to change. Yahweh has sent the Bright Morning Star to my Mary.” He said it trembling with an anxious but joyful tone. He then said, “And you my friend will be part of this.” Like Mary I pondered this.
April 9, 5 B.C.
Our departure day arrived. Early in the morning we set out. Joseph helped Mary, large with child, on my back. I tried to bend down a little to make it easier for her but she still groaned in discomfort. We set out. I made my steps as smooth and rhythmic as possible for lovely expectant Mary. This journey would be especially difficult for a woman in Mary’s condition. Yet much of that day she sang hymns to my Maker and hers. One went like this…
I am blessed among woman
With your fruit in my womb
Come child I will nourish
The world will be your room
It sounded so sweet in Mary’s voice. I began to realize there was something special about this child. But what? “Your fruit in my womb,” she was singing this to our Maker. Who is this child?
April 10, 5 B.C.
We traveled all day and all of us are exhausted; Mary much more so than Joseph and me. She doesn’t look so good. I wish there was more that I could do. Joseph built a fire and roasted some fish. I don’t like fish but there was a delectable clump of grass and shrubs nearby. As I grazed I overheard the young humble couple.
Joseph: Are you alright Mary?
Mary: Uncomfortable love but Yahweh is my strength.
Joseph: Mary, I know He chose you but why me? What will I do?
Mary: My beloved, he will need a father. Guidance. A warm home. Love. Discipline. To be taught. Though he is the Son of God he will be our son to love, cherish, and nurture.
Joseph: You are right. How blessed we are amongst all the couples on earth. He chose us. He loves us. He has entrusted us with His son. Great is our God.
Mary: And I think, Joseph, many after us will be entrusted with him to love as we do. Do you wonder about his future? His purpose?
Joseph: His name is Yeshua. Yahweh has made a way for the forgiveness of sins. Some better way than the killing of a lamb.
Mary: He will be our lamb but we shall have to share him with all the world.
Joseph: Yes. The Lamb of God –
Mary: Who takes away the sins of the world.
They looked at each other as lovers do. They kissed. But it was more than just lovers. They had the determined look of those on a special mission.
April 11, 5 B.C.
Can’t sleep. Can’t stop thinking about what Mary and Joseph said and then my thoughts were interrupted by a growing soft but steady light. The light formed into the presence of a man. He spoke to me. “Good News, I am Gabriel sent from God. I am the angel sent to Mary, Joseph, and Zechariah. And now to you.”
“You have been chosen by God to carry His son to the place the prophets foretold concerning His birth. Bethlehem. The House of Bread! And the Bread of Life that feeds the salvation starved world will be born there. Good News! You are carrying the Good News of God to the entire world. To all of creation. Mary carries your Maker who will redeem even nature and all its creatures.”
I knelt in wonder. Then he left. Redemption for the entire world. God has remembered the day He created all the world and said it was good. This baby will make it good once more.
April 12, 5 B.C.
We’ve arrived in Bethlehem. Finally. It is so cold. Looking at Mary we arrived just in time. She has been moaning for hours now. Joseph has constantly prayed through her moaning. I did everything I could to make my steps soft and light. I can’t stop thinking I am carrying the woman who carries the Son of the Maker. My work has been given great honor. I think this child will bring dignity to all who work and serve. Joseph took Mary from my back. He was in a panic asking person after person where there was room to stay. Bethlehem was packed because of the census.
I watched as Joseph appealed to the last possibility of a place to stay. I heard the discouraging words of the Inn Keeper and saw Joseph’s dejected face. Then I had a crazy idea.
I know in a place like this there are a lot of other fellow animals. They have to stay someplace. So I headed down the nearest path to the tavern Joseph was at. Bingo! I could see a small cave about 100 yards from the tavern and I saw another donkey in front tied up. So, I sauntered down to him and told him my whole story.
This donkey’s name was Searcher. And looking at him I knew why. He had only three legs. He told me that he’s wondered all his life why the Maker made him this way. When I told him who this arriving child was he excitedly declared, “Maybe this child is the answer I have been searching for! Do you think we could have him stay here with the rest of us?” I simply smiled my big donkey smile and said, “Hee Haw! That’s exactly what I had in mind.” I headed back to Joseph and met him on the way up as he was carrying Mary toward me accompanied by a pleasant looking, middle-aged woman. I recognized her. Just as I had left she came to the door as the Inn Keeper and Joseph were talking. I think she is the Inn Keeper’s wife. It is possible she has my same idea. “Maker, please make a way for this child, Mary, and Joseph, “ I prayed under my breath.
Next week: The Inn Keeper’s wife’s journal…
Monday, December 5, 2011
Joseph's Diary
June 17, 6 B.C.
Hallelujah! Glory to Yahweh! I have been given a wife, a woman of unsurpassed beauty. Her name is Mary. We were engaged yesterday afternoon. Last night I dreamt of our first meeting. I saw her struggling at the well.
“Let me help you with that,” I offered. She looked up from her jar and into my eyes and I was overcome.
Here eyes were dark as olives. Her skin was like silk, beautifully brown. I felt the silk as our hands brushed against the jar. Her lips were full with the color of a dark rose. I was captured by her beauty.
But as we went to rest under a sycamore tree, I was captured by her gentle reflective spirit. She was a woman who ran deep; as deep as the well she drew water from.
It was that day that I fell in love with this deep, beautiful, young woman who loved Yahweh like no one I had ever known. The next day I told my parents, “Yahweh has given me the woman I will marry”.
July 13, 6 B.C.
Confusion. Mary has left suddenly for her cousin Elizabeth’s home. She seemed distracted, so unusual for Mary. She left in such haste and was vague as to the reasons why. A quick kiss on my cheek and she turned and hopped onto the caravan. We waved to each other. She had the strangest look on her face. Wonder? Perplexed? Joy? Troubled? I think all of the above.
“Go with her Yahweh,” I whispered under my breath. I felt something slide down my cheek, an uninvited tear.
October 17, 6 B.C.
I looked up from my workbench to see what all the commotion was about. Then I fairly screamed for joy as I ran to the coming caravan. It was my Mary. The caravan stopped. She slid into my arms with a half smile to meet my unrestrained one. “Dear Mary. What is it?”
Joseph we have to talk. She led me to our tree. The one we had carved our names into.
“Joseph… (tears)…Joseph”…”Mary, what? You can tell”…
My hand brushed her swollen abdomen. Silence between us. The type of silence from the heart that turns inward on itself.
“Joseph, it’s not what you think.”
“And what do I think Mary? What can I think but that you could not find completeness in me? You’ve betrayed me but you’ve shamed Yahweh. Mary, Mary how could you?”
“Joseph, I understand how upset you are but please let me explain.”
She was frantic to explain to me, as her heavy tears pounded the dirt beneath us at the foot of our tree.
“Joseph, you must believe me. I have not been with any man. I would never betrayed you but most of all I would never shame Yahweh as you suggest.”
She cupped my face in her silk, brown hands. As always when she looked in my eyes I was overcome. I knew I had to listen to the Mary I thought I knew.
“Joseph this is the doing of Yahweh. An angel visited me. I am not making this up. He told me that God has chosen me to bear the Messiah. This pregnancy…my pregnancy is by the Holy Spirit. I don’t understand this Joseph but I gave myself to Yahweh in obedience. Joseph! This baby will need a father.”
I pulled back from her in sadness and disbelief. What had happened to my Mary? Was she ill?
“Mary, though I could have you stoned I will not. I could never do that to you. The woman I love. But there is no way I can be part of this with you. I cannot take on your shame. I will divorce you quietly and secretively. Your life will be spared and I will move. I loved you Mary. I still do. Yahweh be with you and have mercy on you.” I turned my back and walked away, listening to her sobbing. I wept as well.
October 18, 6 B.C.
I bolted from sleep covered in a cold sweat. I quickly wrapped myself in my clothing. I had to get to Mary immediately.
I ran the few hundred yards to her home. Our sleepy little village had not stirred as of yet. The morning sun was peeking above the hills like it was announcing the coming of a different type of light about to enter the world. And I knew the name of that Light.
I came to Mary’s window and pulled the curtain aside. I heard quiet sobbing from the left corner of the room. There sat Mary, on her mat, face in her hands.
“Mary,” I whispered as loud as I dared. I startled her. She looked up in panic. “Mary, it’s me Joseph.”
She looked around and arose, gingerly tip-toeing across the room to the front door. I could tell she was confused and a bit fearful. I took her hands in mine after I embraced her. Don’t be afraid, Mary.
She pulled back and said, “Joseph, you are sweating. Are you ill?” I smiled back at her and said, “Mary, you will make a wonderful mother. Come with me beloved.” I then walked her to our tree and told her of my visitation.
“Mary, the angel that came to you also came to me last night.” He said, “Joseph, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife. She is pregnant by the Holy Spirit.”
Mary looked into my eyes with her mouth open. Then her mouth formed the most beautiful smile I had ever seen. It was a smile of Light like the morning sunrise. I saw the Light in her eyes and I felt the Light in her womb as we embraced.
She repeatedly kissed me saying, “My dear, sweet Joseph. We will make it through this. We are in Yahweh’s will though it will mean suffering. But we will make it through this by his mercies.” Her tears again watered our tree. Through my beloved Mary would the Tree of Life come back to us all.
Next: A donkey’s journal…
Hallelujah! Glory to Yahweh! I have been given a wife, a woman of unsurpassed beauty. Her name is Mary. We were engaged yesterday afternoon. Last night I dreamt of our first meeting. I saw her struggling at the well.
“Let me help you with that,” I offered. She looked up from her jar and into my eyes and I was overcome.
Here eyes were dark as olives. Her skin was like silk, beautifully brown. I felt the silk as our hands brushed against the jar. Her lips were full with the color of a dark rose. I was captured by her beauty.
But as we went to rest under a sycamore tree, I was captured by her gentle reflective spirit. She was a woman who ran deep; as deep as the well she drew water from.
It was that day that I fell in love with this deep, beautiful, young woman who loved Yahweh like no one I had ever known. The next day I told my parents, “Yahweh has given me the woman I will marry”.
July 13, 6 B.C.
Confusion. Mary has left suddenly for her cousin Elizabeth’s home. She seemed distracted, so unusual for Mary. She left in such haste and was vague as to the reasons why. A quick kiss on my cheek and she turned and hopped onto the caravan. We waved to each other. She had the strangest look on her face. Wonder? Perplexed? Joy? Troubled? I think all of the above.
“Go with her Yahweh,” I whispered under my breath. I felt something slide down my cheek, an uninvited tear.
October 17, 6 B.C.
I looked up from my workbench to see what all the commotion was about. Then I fairly screamed for joy as I ran to the coming caravan. It was my Mary. The caravan stopped. She slid into my arms with a half smile to meet my unrestrained one. “Dear Mary. What is it?”
Joseph we have to talk. She led me to our tree. The one we had carved our names into.
“Joseph… (tears)…Joseph”…”Mary, what? You can tell”…
My hand brushed her swollen abdomen. Silence between us. The type of silence from the heart that turns inward on itself.
“Joseph, it’s not what you think.”
“And what do I think Mary? What can I think but that you could not find completeness in me? You’ve betrayed me but you’ve shamed Yahweh. Mary, Mary how could you?”
“Joseph, I understand how upset you are but please let me explain.”
She was frantic to explain to me, as her heavy tears pounded the dirt beneath us at the foot of our tree.
“Joseph, you must believe me. I have not been with any man. I would never betrayed you but most of all I would never shame Yahweh as you suggest.”
She cupped my face in her silk, brown hands. As always when she looked in my eyes I was overcome. I knew I had to listen to the Mary I thought I knew.
“Joseph this is the doing of Yahweh. An angel visited me. I am not making this up. He told me that God has chosen me to bear the Messiah. This pregnancy…my pregnancy is by the Holy Spirit. I don’t understand this Joseph but I gave myself to Yahweh in obedience. Joseph! This baby will need a father.”
I pulled back from her in sadness and disbelief. What had happened to my Mary? Was she ill?
“Mary, though I could have you stoned I will not. I could never do that to you. The woman I love. But there is no way I can be part of this with you. I cannot take on your shame. I will divorce you quietly and secretively. Your life will be spared and I will move. I loved you Mary. I still do. Yahweh be with you and have mercy on you.” I turned my back and walked away, listening to her sobbing. I wept as well.
October 18, 6 B.C.
I bolted from sleep covered in a cold sweat. I quickly wrapped myself in my clothing. I had to get to Mary immediately.
I ran the few hundred yards to her home. Our sleepy little village had not stirred as of yet. The morning sun was peeking above the hills like it was announcing the coming of a different type of light about to enter the world. And I knew the name of that Light.
I came to Mary’s window and pulled the curtain aside. I heard quiet sobbing from the left corner of the room. There sat Mary, on her mat, face in her hands.
“Mary,” I whispered as loud as I dared. I startled her. She looked up in panic. “Mary, it’s me Joseph.”
She looked around and arose, gingerly tip-toeing across the room to the front door. I could tell she was confused and a bit fearful. I took her hands in mine after I embraced her. Don’t be afraid, Mary.
She pulled back and said, “Joseph, you are sweating. Are you ill?” I smiled back at her and said, “Mary, you will make a wonderful mother. Come with me beloved.” I then walked her to our tree and told her of my visitation.
“Mary, the angel that came to you also came to me last night.” He said, “Joseph, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife. She is pregnant by the Holy Spirit.”
Mary looked into my eyes with her mouth open. Then her mouth formed the most beautiful smile I had ever seen. It was a smile of Light like the morning sunrise. I saw the Light in her eyes and I felt the Light in her womb as we embraced.
She repeatedly kissed me saying, “My dear, sweet Joseph. We will make it through this. We are in Yahweh’s will though it will mean suffering. But we will make it through this by his mercies.” Her tears again watered our tree. Through my beloved Mary would the Tree of Life come back to us all.
Next: A donkey’s journal…
Monday, November 28, 2011
Mary's Diary
July 7
Yesterday something happened that I can’t explain. I don’t understand it myself so how can I tell anyone – most of all Joseph and my parents. How will they believe? I can barely believe it myself.
I went to sleep troubled. Thinking. Praying about my experience with the angel that visited me under the fig tree. I was startled by a touch on my shoulder and a heavenly voice sweetly uttering my name. “Mary,” said the angel. It was Gabriel himself. He read my mind because he told me not to be afraid.
I’ve prayed since I was a little girl that Yahweh would use me to bless and glorify Him, it’s all I wanted in life. I told Yahweh this many times.
The angel’s words seemed to answer my heart’s cry beyond what words could express. I will have a baby. He said the baby will come as the Holy Spirit overshadows on and conceives in me. He will be called the Son of God and His name will be Jesus. I was speechless. I was overcome by the magnitude of his message, yet I remembered the scripture from the prophet, “The Lord Himself will give you a sign: the virgin will be pregnant. She will have a son and she will name him Immanuel.” How often in wonder and perplexity have I pondered those words of the Lord and how in this instant I know and understand these words! These holy words are about me! Me! Thirteen and a half year old Mary. Me! I fell on my face before the angel and said aloud, “I am the handmaid of the Lord. Let this happen to me as you say.”
When I awoke I wondered if I had dreamed. But then I knew, in my womb I felt conception take place. The Holy Spirit visited me. I can’t explain it but I knew. I smiled. Tears began to stream down my brown cheeks. Holy tears of joy even though I had no idea how to break this news to others. The angel didn’t give me instructions on this.
Oh Abba, what do I do? That’s when my cousin Elizabeth’s name arose in my thoughts. Yes, I must visit cousin Elizabeth to see if what the angel said about her is true. Could it really be that my aged cousin is pregnant long past the years of childbearing? If so I will know that I am not imagining this. Elizabeth has been more like a mother to me than a cousin. She is wise with Yahweh’s wisdom. Yes, I will go. I will make some excuse to my parents and go to my cousin, my Imma.
I repeated the words to Yahweh that I said to the angel. I bowed low and softly said, “I am your handmaid, Yahweh. Let it be done to me as you say. I will obey as the virgin girl of the prophet’s words.”
July 12 – October 8
The caravan stopped a few hundred feet from Elizabeth and Zechariah’s home. Because of her age and all she has taught me I always called cousin Elizabeth Imma or Mommy. She liked it because she, in great sorrow, had no children. I was like a daughter to her, and she like a mother. She cherished me and I adored her.
Excitement and joy began to well up in me as I quickened my pace to her house. I saw her in the garden where she spent so much of her time. She was facing me but her head was down concentrated on her plants.
“Imma! Imma!” I excitedly called out. She stood suddenly clutching her large abdomen.
It is true I thought to myself in wonder. Elizabeth is with child. There was a holy silence between us when Elizabeth burst out, ”Mary! Daughter! When I heard your greeting the child in me leapt in my womb.”
“Mary, the Lord has been speaking to me about you but I didn’t know why. But, oh child, now I know. You are pregnant with the Most High. For months I have been meditating on the words of the prophet.
I completed the sentence, “A virgin girl will be pregnant. She will have a son and name him Emmanuel.”
Tears streamed down our faces and then Imma took me into her arms and said, “Blessed, blessed are you my lovely daughter because you took the Lord at His word. You believed in simple faith that He chose you to bear His son.”
“Why me Imma,” I asked. She replied, “Daughter look at me! Why me?”
And we laughed until we cried. It was then that I knew somehow it would be alright. I am in His hands. The handmaid of the Lord.
That night as I slept next to Imma I softly prayed in wonder and worship, ”Blessed by Your name, Yahweh. You, rich in mercy, answered my prayer of many years since I was a little girl. All I’ve ever wanted is to be Yours. All I’ve ever wanted is to know You and please. You’ve answered my prayers. I am blessed among all women.”
“Yahweh, I will care for this child, our child! I will care for Him and protect Him with all that is within me. Please teach me how to teach Him and what to teach Him until the day when I know He will teach me.
“Forgive me, Yahweh. I am worried about Joseph. About my parents….” That is when I heard His quiet voice, “Do not be afraid, Mary! The Lord is not only with you, He is in you; in your womb.”
Yes, Abba. I am the handmaid of the Lord.
Yesterday something happened that I can’t explain. I don’t understand it myself so how can I tell anyone – most of all Joseph and my parents. How will they believe? I can barely believe it myself.
I went to sleep troubled. Thinking. Praying about my experience with the angel that visited me under the fig tree. I was startled by a touch on my shoulder and a heavenly voice sweetly uttering my name. “Mary,” said the angel. It was Gabriel himself. He read my mind because he told me not to be afraid.
I’ve prayed since I was a little girl that Yahweh would use me to bless and glorify Him, it’s all I wanted in life. I told Yahweh this many times.
The angel’s words seemed to answer my heart’s cry beyond what words could express. I will have a baby. He said the baby will come as the Holy Spirit overshadows on and conceives in me. He will be called the Son of God and His name will be Jesus. I was speechless. I was overcome by the magnitude of his message, yet I remembered the scripture from the prophet, “The Lord Himself will give you a sign: the virgin will be pregnant. She will have a son and she will name him Immanuel.” How often in wonder and perplexity have I pondered those words of the Lord and how in this instant I know and understand these words! These holy words are about me! Me! Thirteen and a half year old Mary. Me! I fell on my face before the angel and said aloud, “I am the handmaid of the Lord. Let this happen to me as you say.”
When I awoke I wondered if I had dreamed. But then I knew, in my womb I felt conception take place. The Holy Spirit visited me. I can’t explain it but I knew. I smiled. Tears began to stream down my brown cheeks. Holy tears of joy even though I had no idea how to break this news to others. The angel didn’t give me instructions on this.
Oh Abba, what do I do? That’s when my cousin Elizabeth’s name arose in my thoughts. Yes, I must visit cousin Elizabeth to see if what the angel said about her is true. Could it really be that my aged cousin is pregnant long past the years of childbearing? If so I will know that I am not imagining this. Elizabeth has been more like a mother to me than a cousin. She is wise with Yahweh’s wisdom. Yes, I will go. I will make some excuse to my parents and go to my cousin, my Imma.
I repeated the words to Yahweh that I said to the angel. I bowed low and softly said, “I am your handmaid, Yahweh. Let it be done to me as you say. I will obey as the virgin girl of the prophet’s words.”
July 12 – October 8
The caravan stopped a few hundred feet from Elizabeth and Zechariah’s home. Because of her age and all she has taught me I always called cousin Elizabeth Imma or Mommy. She liked it because she, in great sorrow, had no children. I was like a daughter to her, and she like a mother. She cherished me and I adored her.
Excitement and joy began to well up in me as I quickened my pace to her house. I saw her in the garden where she spent so much of her time. She was facing me but her head was down concentrated on her plants.
“Imma! Imma!” I excitedly called out. She stood suddenly clutching her large abdomen.
It is true I thought to myself in wonder. Elizabeth is with child. There was a holy silence between us when Elizabeth burst out, ”Mary! Daughter! When I heard your greeting the child in me leapt in my womb.”
“Mary, the Lord has been speaking to me about you but I didn’t know why. But, oh child, now I know. You are pregnant with the Most High. For months I have been meditating on the words of the prophet.
I completed the sentence, “A virgin girl will be pregnant. She will have a son and name him Emmanuel.”
Tears streamed down our faces and then Imma took me into her arms and said, “Blessed, blessed are you my lovely daughter because you took the Lord at His word. You believed in simple faith that He chose you to bear His son.”
“Why me Imma,” I asked. She replied, “Daughter look at me! Why me?”
And we laughed until we cried. It was then that I knew somehow it would be alright. I am in His hands. The handmaid of the Lord.
That night as I slept next to Imma I softly prayed in wonder and worship, ”Blessed by Your name, Yahweh. You, rich in mercy, answered my prayer of many years since I was a little girl. All I’ve ever wanted is to be Yours. All I’ve ever wanted is to know You and please. You’ve answered my prayers. I am blessed among all women.”
“Yahweh, I will care for this child, our child! I will care for Him and protect Him with all that is within me. Please teach me how to teach Him and what to teach Him until the day when I know He will teach me.
“Forgive me, Yahweh. I am worried about Joseph. About my parents….” That is when I heard His quiet voice, “Do not be afraid, Mary! The Lord is not only with you, He is in you; in your womb.”
Yes, Abba. I am the handmaid of the Lord.
Monday, November 21, 2011
J.P.T.
“Be joyful always; pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” ~ I Thessalonians 5:16-18
I’ve always thought this is a verse that I would want to have with me if I was stranded alone on a deserted island.
Let’s see. What’s my agenda today?
o Be joyful all day
o Pray nonstop
o Give thanks while being on a deserted island (or whatever your trying circumstance might be.
o Know that I am in Christ
At the end of the day, before I fall asleep under my palm strands and after a mango night cap, I am content knowing I’ve done God’s will.
But, who needs an island. Let’s try it now. Want to join me for 30 days? For 30 days carry this verse and recite it once every hour and obey its directive. Share the verse with all your friends and family. Memorize it! Share it. Teach it. Live it.
To make it easy let’s start on Thanksgiving. After 30 days I wonder what I will be like. I hope to be living out a daily Thanksgiving holiday. I am trusting God to evict my whining and complaining. I want to increasingly find out that the joy of the Lord is our strength as Nehemiah tells us in chapter 10, verse 8 of his book.
Paul wrote this to Christians who had tough, stressful challenges like you and me. Not Christians with nothing else to do on a deserted island. He wrote it to encourage them to make Christ their focus rather than their problems.
So, if you are game, drop me an email and tell me you are on for the “J.P.T.” challenge of Joy, Prayer, and Thanks. I am going to practice right now.
With joy over you,
Prayer for you,
Thankfulness for you!
Nick
I’ve always thought this is a verse that I would want to have with me if I was stranded alone on a deserted island.
Let’s see. What’s my agenda today?
o Be joyful all day
o Pray nonstop
o Give thanks while being on a deserted island (or whatever your trying circumstance might be.
o Know that I am in Christ
At the end of the day, before I fall asleep under my palm strands and after a mango night cap, I am content knowing I’ve done God’s will.
But, who needs an island. Let’s try it now. Want to join me for 30 days? For 30 days carry this verse and recite it once every hour and obey its directive. Share the verse with all your friends and family. Memorize it! Share it. Teach it. Live it.
To make it easy let’s start on Thanksgiving. After 30 days I wonder what I will be like. I hope to be living out a daily Thanksgiving holiday. I am trusting God to evict my whining and complaining. I want to increasingly find out that the joy of the Lord is our strength as Nehemiah tells us in chapter 10, verse 8 of his book.
Paul wrote this to Christians who had tough, stressful challenges like you and me. Not Christians with nothing else to do on a deserted island. He wrote it to encourage them to make Christ their focus rather than their problems.
So, if you are game, drop me an email and tell me you are on for the “J.P.T.” challenge of Joy, Prayer, and Thanks. I am going to practice right now.
With joy over you,
Prayer for you,
Thankfulness for you!
Nick
Monday, November 14, 2011
Jesus’ Use of Technology
He knew it before Steve Jobs did. He created it before him. These are just some of Jesus’ key innovative ideas that you see daily on your keyboard.
Save
We have to start here, after all He is our Savior, giving us eternal life. But we can press that key at any time for any situation. Then as quickly as you can press it, like a mother comes running to her baby’s cry, He comes running to us. He saves us again and again in the sticky situations of our lives.
Delete
Ah, yes, one of my favorite keys that Jesus uses in my life. Negative attitude…oh, God, forgive me for that attitude. Then I hear the delete key pressed as my sin is deleted in an instant through the unending mercy of the cross.
Forward
Sometimes, actually a lot of times, God sends something so encouraging our way. But He always wants us to receive our gifts and forward them to those in need of our encouragement. Use this key often.
Backspace
Moving a little too fast. Making mistakes. It’s not fatal. Jesus’ backspace key is the redemption key. Whenever we blow it, He backspaces making all things work together for good to those that love God; to those called according to his purpose.
Send/Receive
This is Jesus’ rhythm key of our Christian lives. Sort of like inhale/exhale. We need to send out to others. To give of ourselves but we also need to receive from God through others. Keep your sending and receiving in balance.
Junk Mail
This box is God’s provision to focus on the “majors” and get rid of the “minors.” What are you so worried about today that you won’t remember a year from now? Throw it in the junk mail box and delete it as soon as possible.
Inbox
Is there junk in your inbox? Thoughts or actions that corrupt you? Get it into the junk box and delete it as often as you need to. Then use the Philippians 4:8 as a filter for what gets to your inbox.
“Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.” (Phil. 4:8 NIV)
Reply to All
I love this key. It is the community key where Jesus resides in the midst of Christians when two or three are gathered. Bring many into your life to live out your daily running Christian program.
Archive
This is the memory key. Take stock of all that God is doing in your life, and save them into an archive where you can go back often to be encouraged. God constantly told his people in the Old Testament to archive or remember.
Control
This key is to remind you that you are out of control and He is in control. Do not use this key. Let only the Holy Spirit use it.
Google
Open Explorer and go to God. Everything you’ve ever wanted to know is in the mind of God; wisdom for any situation when you go to Him. Lean not on your own understanding. Instead, use Google to get God’s mind on things.
I’m sure God has some new things coming out. I heard He is coming out with a Thy Phone to replace the iPhone.
Technologically Yours,
Nick, The Geek
He knew it before Steve Jobs did. He created it before him. These are just some of Jesus’ key innovative ideas that you see daily on your keyboard.
Save
We have to start here, after all He is our Savior, giving us eternal life. But we can press that key at any time for any situation. Then as quickly as you can press it, like a mother comes running to her baby’s cry, He comes running to us. He saves us again and again in the sticky situations of our lives.
Delete
Ah, yes, one of my favorite keys that Jesus uses in my life. Negative attitude…oh, God, forgive me for that attitude. Then I hear the delete key pressed as my sin is deleted in an instant through the unending mercy of the cross.
Forward
Sometimes, actually a lot of times, God sends something so encouraging our way. But He always wants us to receive our gifts and forward them to those in need of our encouragement. Use this key often.
Backspace
Moving a little too fast. Making mistakes. It’s not fatal. Jesus’ backspace key is the redemption key. Whenever we blow it, He backspaces making all things work together for good to those that love God; to those called according to his purpose.
Send/Receive
This is Jesus’ rhythm key of our Christian lives. Sort of like inhale/exhale. We need to send out to others. To give of ourselves but we also need to receive from God through others. Keep your sending and receiving in balance.
Junk Mail
This box is God’s provision to focus on the “majors” and get rid of the “minors.” What are you so worried about today that you won’t remember a year from now? Throw it in the junk mail box and delete it as soon as possible.
Inbox
Is there junk in your inbox? Thoughts or actions that corrupt you? Get it into the junk box and delete it as often as you need to. Then use the Philippians 4:8 as a filter for what gets to your inbox.
“Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.” (Phil. 4:8 NIV)
Reply to All
I love this key. It is the community key where Jesus resides in the midst of Christians when two or three are gathered. Bring many into your life to live out your daily running Christian program.
Archive
This is the memory key. Take stock of all that God is doing in your life, and save them into an archive where you can go back often to be encouraged. God constantly told his people in the Old Testament to archive or remember.
Control
This key is to remind you that you are out of control and He is in control. Do not use this key. Let only the Holy Spirit use it.
Open Explorer and go to God. Everything you’ve ever wanted to know is in the mind of God; wisdom for any situation when you go to Him. Lean not on your own understanding. Instead, use Google to get God’s mind on things.
I’m sure God has some new things coming out. I heard He is coming out with a Thy Phone to replace the iPhone.
Technologically Yours,
Nick, The Geek
Monday, November 7, 2011
Grief Share
On November 6th it will be one year ago since my big brother, Gene, died. This past year has been one of the most amazing years of my life. With my brother’s death I lost my past. My entire family vanished with his passing.
This past year has had two parallel tracks. One has been an unparalleled grief in my life. It has been lonely and overwhelming many times. The second track has been an unparalleled experience of the mercy and comfort of God. I’ve experienced God in a deep fathering and mothering way.
I want to share with you some of the things I’ve learned on unexpected and unwanted path. I think you will find some of these helpful in relating to our friends’ losses and anyone in particular who suffers. I offer this in humility with my desire and prayer to be a blessing to you and your ministry.
I learned in those first moments that nothing can prepare us for the shock of losing someone you deeply love and who lives in the fabric of your life. It is a painful tearing with accompanying shock. In those moments you learn to receive from others. The simple gestures of phone calls, cards, and flowers are like taking medicine to keep you alive.
Early on there were three gestures that came in the form of material gifts that God used all year long to steady me and comfort me.
My friend Jody Strathman, in Colorado, sent me the most beautiful card with artwork from a young friend who drew it just before she died in a car accident. It was three hands working to repair a broken and bleeding heart. Three hands represent the Trinity who lovingly and steadily work to do emergency surgery on our ruptured, injured hearts. In the card, Jody wrote the most beautiful and tender encouragement to grieve and let God love me. Jody was like a nurse helping me to know the way to heal. Thank you dearest Jody! ♥
My dear friend of many years, Donna Hatasaki, took me out to lunch telling me that she wants to hear everything and just listen. Donna is one of the greatest listeners I know in my life. Nothing has been more important to me than someone willing to listen over and over again. The shock of grief demands a retelling of the story to emerge into the reality of what has happened and eventual acceptance that does not have a time limit on it.
Donna lovingly listened. Then she gave me a beautiful gift that I will forever cherish and always remember my brother by. It was a gorgeous, ornate, white heart Christmas ornament. Donna told me it was for the healing of my broken heart and to remind me that God has healed my brother’s heart. I looked at it all Christmas and what Donna said was true. It was healing for my heart and comfort to know God has my brother’s heart.
After Christmas I could not put it away. I asked God what to do and then my eyes landed on an 8x10 photo of my birth mother when she was 18 years old. She was carrying me in her womb at the time of the picture. Gene and I are adopted from two different families. I found my mother but he, painfully, never found his. I hung the beautiful ornament on the top left corner of the photo saying, “Gene, I give my mother to you to be your mother.” It is by my bedside and I look at it every night knowing God has healed Gene’s mother wound. Thank you, Donna, for giving me something so tangible that has lasted all year.
Then my wonderful 17-year-old, artist son, Zack, gave me something that also has been a daily source of healing. He fashioned and painted a small clay lighthouse with a sign on the front that says, “Gene’s”. That it came from one of my precious sons at Christmas and symbolized light in darkness blessed me to the deepest core of my spirit. I have it in front of my favorite picture of Gene and me. Thank you, beloved Zack.
These gifts taught me the power of a gift in the form of a tangible object associated with the one you lose. It is just a symbol that God can powerfully use especially when you fall deep into the pit of despair.
From the beginning, my lovely Susie has walked with me. Our grief affects all those who love us and especially those closest to us. Susie has been faithful though I know many times it was hard for her. I know she needed grief relief. The comfort we give is not just to the one who has lost but to those closest to that person. Thank you, Susie, for coming alongside me and staying like the Holy Spirit does.
I learned that within a few weeks most everyone forgets about your loss, but it is just getting started for you and the roughest days are still ahead. I foresaw this and early on made an important decision. I decided that I would not hold anyone under resentment who was not present for me in my grief, realizing for various reasons that they were unable to be there. I would accept from God which comforters He decided to send me. There are people you expect to draw near you that don’t and people you never would have expected who do.
One of those was my dear friend, Jen, who lives many states removed from me. Jen is truly the angel God sent me. Phone calls, texts, cards, and emails nearly every week. She made me feel free to call her anytime. She listened, and listened, and listened some more. She never showed impatience. It was as if I had a broken leg healing and she walked alongside me letting me lean on her for support. I felt her support every day though we never had a personal time together. Thank you, Jen, for the gift you gave in friendship that I can never repay.
Then there was Shelley and Kristie, my ministry mates, who I see daily. They constantly drew me out when I wanted to withdraw. That is one of the greatest dangers of grief. But Shelley and Kristie wouldn’t let me do it. At times I felt like a club kid against the wall who didn’t want to play the game. Then Shelley and Kristie would pull me into the game for my own good.
My friend, Lydia, lost her sister 11 years ago. When I began to sink beyond the grief into self pity she, like Shelley and Kristie, would not let me. She disciplined my thinking onto Jesus with my grief to find His peace.
Yet, even with a small circle of wonderful friends it was a journey I have had to travel with God alone. I was thrust into the arms of God in mercy and grace. And did God ever show up! There have been countless visitations from God to encourage me, comfort me, and hold me up. I have learned that when we free fall, He really does catch us. I have learned as I draw close to Him how intimate He is with me. I have experienced His wooing and drawing me to Himself like the lover in the Song of Solomon. I have experienced His specific reassurance that my family is not lost to Him but He holds them in His heart. He has consoled me to know that our little story of a small, poor Italian immigrant family, living together on a farm is all a part of His larger story and is one of the millions of God’s chapters in His book of life!
I have learned that good memories can begin to emerge that start to overshadow the grief. Yet, my loved one will never be forgotten. There will be a sadness that cannot fully be healed until heaven. And yet this simply deepens the experience of life and character. For me I feel a greater urgency to love the people God has placed in my life and tell them so. I realize life is fragile and someone you love can be taken at any time. So I must be attentive to these relationships and savor them. I cannot let my “to do” list take priority over my “to be” list. My list of who I am to be present to with encouragement and attentiveness. I am taking more intense joy and gratitude at leaves falling silently in wonder this fall, in a hot cup of black coffee while sharing my life with a friend, in a family dinner, and in a card received or given. Pain is making me more sensitive to the gentle prompting of the Holy Spirit.
I have had to remind myself that grief is different for everyone. My grief is unique as well as how long it takes; a fact I want to carry for the rest of my life when someone in my life loses someone. There is no one size fits all. Like Jen has been to me I want to be present, patient, sensitive, and listening to the friend who has lost someone; and to the Holy Spirit’s prompting about how to help.
One morning a couple of months after Gene’s death I had coffee and conversation with Amira. Amira and I love books, movies, coffee, and conversation. We are such dear friends. She said, “I don’t know how to ask this or if I should but how are you doing with your brother’s death?” I know Amira was concerned she would cause me pain, but it is the opposite. I told her that it meant so much to me that she asked. It freed me to talk and reminded me that I am not alone. When someone is in grief I encourage you to ask how they are. Many people don’t know what to say so they pretend like nothing has happened. That’s what makes the pain worse.
I have learned to grieve but not as those without hope as Paul says in Thessalonians. What an unsurpassable gift we have as Christians. We have real rock solid hope of eternal life. I know for a fact that I am going to reunite with my brother, father, and mother in a joyous reunion. My precious friend, Lydia, and I take a prayer walk every Wednesday. Our relatives are buried in two different cemeteries across the street from each other. We regularly go to each on our walks, talk to our loved ones while praying, and remind ourselves we have the hope of Christ and will reunite soon. The early Christians met in cemeteries and rehearsed this certain hope of unspeakable joy.
I have learned that God, rich in mercy, fills the holes in our lives. This year God has so gently and intimately spoken to me this: “I am God your Father and I am your Father in the loss of your father. I am Holy Spirit and I am mother to you in the loss of your mother. I am Jesus and I am your big brother in the loss of your brother. I am your holy family in which you belong.
There is so much more but I better stop here. Friends, go to our club kids. Go with mercy, comfort, and grace being slow to speak, slow to anger, and quick to listen! Let the Holy Spirit make you a gracious, ever-present comforter to our friends!
In His abundant mercies,
Nick
This past year has had two parallel tracks. One has been an unparalleled grief in my life. It has been lonely and overwhelming many times. The second track has been an unparalleled experience of the mercy and comfort of God. I’ve experienced God in a deep fathering and mothering way.
I want to share with you some of the things I’ve learned on unexpected and unwanted path. I think you will find some of these helpful in relating to our friends’ losses and anyone in particular who suffers. I offer this in humility with my desire and prayer to be a blessing to you and your ministry.
I learned in those first moments that nothing can prepare us for the shock of losing someone you deeply love and who lives in the fabric of your life. It is a painful tearing with accompanying shock. In those moments you learn to receive from others. The simple gestures of phone calls, cards, and flowers are like taking medicine to keep you alive.
Early on there were three gestures that came in the form of material gifts that God used all year long to steady me and comfort me.
My friend Jody Strathman, in Colorado, sent me the most beautiful card with artwork from a young friend who drew it just before she died in a car accident. It was three hands working to repair a broken and bleeding heart. Three hands represent the Trinity who lovingly and steadily work to do emergency surgery on our ruptured, injured hearts. In the card, Jody wrote the most beautiful and tender encouragement to grieve and let God love me. Jody was like a nurse helping me to know the way to heal. Thank you dearest Jody! ♥
My dear friend of many years, Donna Hatasaki, took me out to lunch telling me that she wants to hear everything and just listen. Donna is one of the greatest listeners I know in my life. Nothing has been more important to me than someone willing to listen over and over again. The shock of grief demands a retelling of the story to emerge into the reality of what has happened and eventual acceptance that does not have a time limit on it.
Donna lovingly listened. Then she gave me a beautiful gift that I will forever cherish and always remember my brother by. It was a gorgeous, ornate, white heart Christmas ornament. Donna told me it was for the healing of my broken heart and to remind me that God has healed my brother’s heart. I looked at it all Christmas and what Donna said was true. It was healing for my heart and comfort to know God has my brother’s heart.
After Christmas I could not put it away. I asked God what to do and then my eyes landed on an 8x10 photo of my birth mother when she was 18 years old. She was carrying me in her womb at the time of the picture. Gene and I are adopted from two different families. I found my mother but he, painfully, never found his. I hung the beautiful ornament on the top left corner of the photo saying, “Gene, I give my mother to you to be your mother.” It is by my bedside and I look at it every night knowing God has healed Gene’s mother wound. Thank you, Donna, for giving me something so tangible that has lasted all year.
Then my wonderful 17-year-old, artist son, Zack, gave me something that also has been a daily source of healing. He fashioned and painted a small clay lighthouse with a sign on the front that says, “Gene’s”. That it came from one of my precious sons at Christmas and symbolized light in darkness blessed me to the deepest core of my spirit. I have it in front of my favorite picture of Gene and me. Thank you, beloved Zack.
These gifts taught me the power of a gift in the form of a tangible object associated with the one you lose. It is just a symbol that God can powerfully use especially when you fall deep into the pit of despair.
From the beginning, my lovely Susie has walked with me. Our grief affects all those who love us and especially those closest to us. Susie has been faithful though I know many times it was hard for her. I know she needed grief relief. The comfort we give is not just to the one who has lost but to those closest to that person. Thank you, Susie, for coming alongside me and staying like the Holy Spirit does.
I learned that within a few weeks most everyone forgets about your loss, but it is just getting started for you and the roughest days are still ahead. I foresaw this and early on made an important decision. I decided that I would not hold anyone under resentment who was not present for me in my grief, realizing for various reasons that they were unable to be there. I would accept from God which comforters He decided to send me. There are people you expect to draw near you that don’t and people you never would have expected who do.
One of those was my dear friend, Jen, who lives many states removed from me. Jen is truly the angel God sent me. Phone calls, texts, cards, and emails nearly every week. She made me feel free to call her anytime. She listened, and listened, and listened some more. She never showed impatience. It was as if I had a broken leg healing and she walked alongside me letting me lean on her for support. I felt her support every day though we never had a personal time together. Thank you, Jen, for the gift you gave in friendship that I can never repay.
Then there was Shelley and Kristie, my ministry mates, who I see daily. They constantly drew me out when I wanted to withdraw. That is one of the greatest dangers of grief. But Shelley and Kristie wouldn’t let me do it. At times I felt like a club kid against the wall who didn’t want to play the game. Then Shelley and Kristie would pull me into the game for my own good.
My friend, Lydia, lost her sister 11 years ago. When I began to sink beyond the grief into self pity she, like Shelley and Kristie, would not let me. She disciplined my thinking onto Jesus with my grief to find His peace.
Yet, even with a small circle of wonderful friends it was a journey I have had to travel with God alone. I was thrust into the arms of God in mercy and grace. And did God ever show up! There have been countless visitations from God to encourage me, comfort me, and hold me up. I have learned that when we free fall, He really does catch us. I have learned as I draw close to Him how intimate He is with me. I have experienced His wooing and drawing me to Himself like the lover in the Song of Solomon. I have experienced His specific reassurance that my family is not lost to Him but He holds them in His heart. He has consoled me to know that our little story of a small, poor Italian immigrant family, living together on a farm is all a part of His larger story and is one of the millions of God’s chapters in His book of life!
I have learned that good memories can begin to emerge that start to overshadow the grief. Yet, my loved one will never be forgotten. There will be a sadness that cannot fully be healed until heaven. And yet this simply deepens the experience of life and character. For me I feel a greater urgency to love the people God has placed in my life and tell them so. I realize life is fragile and someone you love can be taken at any time. So I must be attentive to these relationships and savor them. I cannot let my “to do” list take priority over my “to be” list. My list of who I am to be present to with encouragement and attentiveness. I am taking more intense joy and gratitude at leaves falling silently in wonder this fall, in a hot cup of black coffee while sharing my life with a friend, in a family dinner, and in a card received or given. Pain is making me more sensitive to the gentle prompting of the Holy Spirit.
I have had to remind myself that grief is different for everyone. My grief is unique as well as how long it takes; a fact I want to carry for the rest of my life when someone in my life loses someone. There is no one size fits all. Like Jen has been to me I want to be present, patient, sensitive, and listening to the friend who has lost someone; and to the Holy Spirit’s prompting about how to help.
One morning a couple of months after Gene’s death I had coffee and conversation with Amira. Amira and I love books, movies, coffee, and conversation. We are such dear friends. She said, “I don’t know how to ask this or if I should but how are you doing with your brother’s death?” I know Amira was concerned she would cause me pain, but it is the opposite. I told her that it meant so much to me that she asked. It freed me to talk and reminded me that I am not alone. When someone is in grief I encourage you to ask how they are. Many people don’t know what to say so they pretend like nothing has happened. That’s what makes the pain worse.
I have learned to grieve but not as those without hope as Paul says in Thessalonians. What an unsurpassable gift we have as Christians. We have real rock solid hope of eternal life. I know for a fact that I am going to reunite with my brother, father, and mother in a joyous reunion. My precious friend, Lydia, and I take a prayer walk every Wednesday. Our relatives are buried in two different cemeteries across the street from each other. We regularly go to each on our walks, talk to our loved ones while praying, and remind ourselves we have the hope of Christ and will reunite soon. The early Christians met in cemeteries and rehearsed this certain hope of unspeakable joy.
I have learned that God, rich in mercy, fills the holes in our lives. This year God has so gently and intimately spoken to me this: “I am God your Father and I am your Father in the loss of your father. I am Holy Spirit and I am mother to you in the loss of your mother. I am Jesus and I am your big brother in the loss of your brother. I am your holy family in which you belong.
There is so much more but I better stop here. Friends, go to our club kids. Go with mercy, comfort, and grace being slow to speak, slow to anger, and quick to listen! Let the Holy Spirit make you a gracious, ever-present comforter to our friends!
In His abundant mercies,
Nick
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)