As Elijah stood sheltered in a mountain cave in the presence of the LORD…

 

…a great and powerful wind

     tore the mountains apart

     and shattered the rocks

     before the Lord,

     but the Lord was not in the wind.

After the wind there was an earthquake,

     but the Lord was not in the earthquake.

After the earthquake came a fire,

     but the Lord was not in the fire.

And after the fire came a gentle whisper.

1 Kings 19:11-12

 

After he shattered the immovable; shook the earth’s foundation; flashed flames of fire; and set Elijah’s senses to high alert…

 

…then God whispered.

 

 

What a powerful God I serve. He moves heaven and earth to get my attention; and paints himself with word pictures to let me know his incredible power and invisible presence.

 

Sometimes when he speaks, it’s so clear and nuanced that I’ve no doubt it’s his voice.

 

But other times this unfathomable God, who tabernacles with me, doesn’t speak. So then I try to be very quiet; and use Scripture and common sense to discern what he’s telling me.

 

Because…

 

Who among the gods

     is like you, Lord?

Who is like you—

     majestic in holiness,

     awesome in glory,

     working wonders?

Exodus 15:11

 

Kind words are like honey—

   sweet to the soul

     and healthy for the body.

Proverbs 16:24

 

Good memories are also a little like honey—sweet, sticky, and healthy for the heart.

 

When I told my son I was replacing my truly awful, and original-to-his-childhood, vinyl and carpet floors, he said:

 

Those old floors have just had a lot of memories spilled on them over the years.

 

No argument there.

 

From leaky baby bottles to farm boots clumped with red mud…

 

…from smoky bonfire clothes piled high by the back door to cowboy boots two-steppin’ across the kitchen…

 

…from Curious George waltzes in the living room to kitchen cabinet door climbs up to the big window ledge…

 

Every memory covered scratch, scuff, and stain in the house told part of a laughter-filled love story that I wouldn’t have exchanged for any amount of perceived perfection.

 

We marked our house as we lived and raised our family here; and it occurred to me, the evening before my new floors were to be installed, that I really really wanted to do more of the same.

 

 

…Unless the LORD builds a house,

     the work of the builders is wasted…

Psalm 127:1

 

Following the special ceremony Dan facilitated his last night on earth; I commented that his feet were barely touching the ground. Could I have ever made a more apropos comment?

 

I’ve no doubt Dan’s body will someday rise from the grave and be transformed and reunited with his spirit. Which is what I was hoping would happen right that minute as I sat front row at his funeral three plus years ago.

 

As a pastor’s wife, I attended a lot of funerals over the years; but I avoid them these days as much as I reasonably can. They tangle up my thoughts and it takes considerable energy to sort them all out afterwards.

 

However, I do think it would be flat out amazing to be sitting front row at the funeral of a believer when the body disappears. And I can only imagine the amazing news stories and photo ops that will follow.

 

I rarely go anywhere without my camera; but if I’m at that particular funeral, I won’t be taking any after-the-event pictures. Because my feet will no longer be touching the ground; and I’ll be dancing through the clouds to meet Jesus face to face.

 

I won’t be back.

 

 

…We who are still living

     when the Lord returns

     will not meet him ahead of those

     who have died.

For the Lord himself

     will come down from heaven

     with a commanding shout,

     with the voice of the archangel,

     and with the trumpet call of God.

First, the believers who have died

     will rise from their graves.

Then, together with them,

     we who are still alive

     and remain on the earth

     will be caught up in the clouds

     to meet the Lord in the air.

Then we will be with the Lord forever.

1 Thessalonians 4:15-17

 

First Ahab built a temple

     and an altar

     for Baal in Samaria.

Then he set up an Asherah pole.

He did more to provoke

     the anger of the LORD,

     the God of Israel,

     than any of the other

     kings of Israel before him.

1 Kings 16:32-33

 

Not an accomplishment many would hope to emulate.

 

And I saw a great white throne

     and the one sitting on it.

The earth and sky fled from his presence,

     but they found no place to hide.  

I saw the dead, both great and small,

     standing before God’s throne.

And the books were opened,

     including the Book of Life.

And the dead were judged

     according to what they had done,

          as recorded in the books.  

The sea gave up its dead,

     and death and the grave

          gave up their dead.

And all were judged

     according to their deeds.  

Then death and the grave

     were thrown into the lake of fire.

This lake of fire is the second death.

And anyone whose name

     was not found recorded

          in the Book of Life

              was thrown into the lake of fire.

Revelation 20:11-15

 

“Though I used to complain about the indecency of the idea of God’s wrath, I came to think that I would have to rebel against a God who wasn’t wrathful at the sight of the world’s evil. God isn’t wrathful in spite of being love. God is wrathful because God is love.” *

 

The above paragraph binds it together for me.

(Israeli cityscape)

 

* Free of Charge by Miroslav Volf

 

Grief never ends…but it changes.

It’s a passage, not a place to stay.

Grief is not a sign of weakness,

nor a lack of faith…

It is the price of love.

 

This unattributed quote has crossed my path several times recently. And I’ve learned that criss-crosses  usually mean God is showing me something.

 

I had a clear sense after Dan was killed that I was going to have to be honest with my grief, if I wanted to be healthy on the other side of it. But I had no idea what that would actually require; plus, every part of my life already felt stripped away and vulnerable.

 

But honesty has been my friend. Feelings are real, even if they aren’t always rooted in facts, and it pays to be genuine about them. Not that I could hide them anyway—they had a sneaky way of creeping out of my eyes and rolling down my cheeks.

 

Even though my honest words might have sometimes scared the people closest to me, I had to let that be their problem and not mine. My plate had already “runneth’d” over.

 

One of the things I discovered was that I had to be selfish…the kind of selfishness that a flight attendant says to observe when the oxygen mask drops to your lap. Please put your mask on first and then your child’s. Good reason there. If you pass out, who’s going to take care of you and your child?

 

So I had to learn to take care of myself. Dan used to tell me that if he got tired, he knew to go rest; but that if I got tired, I just went and did something else. I soon realized that wasn’t going to work for me anymore.

 

Practical things I learned:

 

Eat plenty of protein

Don’t eat sugar

Exercise daily

Allow myself to weep and wail

Spend time outdoors

Pray and spend time in God’s presence

Read my Bible like there’s no tomorrow—there really might not be  🙂

Rest

 

One cold colorless February day, about three months into grief, I drove past the campus where I’d attended high school; and it occurred to me that I’d had an entire life before I even knew Dan.

 

Then I heard a clear distinct voice say, “If you’d known back then how it was all going to turn out, would you have still wanted what you had?”

 

Absolute, resounding YES.

 

And it’s still my answer. I’d much rather be left with something enormous to grieve than never to have had what I had.

 

God is still a good God.