Hope, God's presence, God's nearness, God's goodness

"And not only this, but we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance' and perseverance, proven character' and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us."
 

This is where I am hanging my hat today, God.  On your word of truth-on hope in You alone.  I have put my hope in so many other things lately-mom getting better, Christina's situation getting better, our church family, life calming down, feeling joyful again, friendships, ministry, everything but You, God.  I think when we define better, good, well, etc....we have such a different image and such different goals than You.  Your goal is the glory of Your name and our holiness which ultimately brings glory to Your name.  Our goal, oftentimes, is comfort, relief, release, change in circumstances, favorable outcomes for us.  What is more favorable than the deep intimacy of Your presence that can only be had through pain?  What is more glorious than character that has been tried, refined, and proven?  Hoping correctly does NOT disappoint.  Our only hope is You.  "For I put my hope in Your unfailing love."  That is all we have.  "And now, Lord, for what do I wait?  My hope is in Thee."  "Why are you in despair, O my soul?  And why are you disturbed within me?  Hope in God, for I shall again praise Him, the help of my countenance, and my God."   If our hope is in You, God, there is no despair.  "But as for me, I will hope continually, and will praise Thee yet more and more."  MORE AND MORE.  That is what I want.  That is what hope produces.  The more life presses you down, the more people disappoint you, the more injustice done-more and more praise to You, God.  You never change-You just ARE-perfect and good and holy and full of hope and grace.  There is so much beauty in that. "But as for me the nearness of God is my good."  Your nearness God-that is what is true goodness-not life going my way or people who love me, not to be fully understood or for justice to happen but YOU.  You are good alone-I just need to fix my eyes on You.  "Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen."  Those "things" are nothing in this world-it is You, God-our hope is in You. We have assurance of You alone, and Your unfailing love and unchanging character and gracious salvation.  That is our hope. And it anchors our soul.  I am ready for storms to come and for Satan's worst-every time I think it cannot possibly get worse, it does, and it does and it does.  But my hope is in God alone-He is best every single day and as I get nearer and nearer, the hope of His presence is better and better.

DeClove

I miss my little dog of 12 years.  She was my girls' childhood dog and the bearer of so many good memories.  Now one girl is grown, almost married.  The other is almost grown.  The passing of Clover signifies the passing of time.  I have never been good at this.  Here goes, Dee:

I remember driving out of Austin to get you as a puppy from a breeder-Rachel researched carefully and we had to have a pure bred Border Collie.  The man was  a rancher and was a little rough with you but you were so sweet and I believe the only girl.  We chose you-or maybe you chose us.  You were covered in mud with nasty ears and worms.  Eric promptly bathed you when we got home and we got you to the vet and all taken care of.

Right away we knew you were going to be a handful-Border Collies are very intelligent and high strung.  We wanted a smart dog.  Eric and I would wake up at 5 am. discussing whose turn it was to get up and take care of you.  It was like having a newborn all over again.  You ate our kitchen table legs-yep, that's right.  We had to put chicken wire around our baby trees out back and set up electric fence around all our flower beds.  We called it the DMZ.  We did not take it down until you were around 6 years old.  You were a wild thing-tried to herd everything in sight-us, other dogs, whatever moved.  You were bred for it.  We always talked about finding a random field of sheep and letting you loose in it.  I wish we had done it.

The girls were young, so we finished school around noon.  They would leash you up and run out the front door screaming "THE HILL".  The hill is now covered in houses.  But it was open and magical back then and we let you off leash to roam freely.  You would run full speed, pulling the girls behind you and we would roam the hill and let you be free for a while.  I remember one day we found a piece of pipe that the construction workers had left out and I put you and both girls in it and rolled you down the hill and the girls screamed and you peed all over them.  It was a wonderful memory.  They also used to leash you to their scooters and let you pull them down the sidewalk.  Probably not the brightest idea.  The first time we took you out on the boat, we put you on while Eric was backing it into the water and you promptly jumped off the back of it into the lake-no fear of the water then!  We took you to the lake many times-once you got in, you loved to swim.  We even took you to a hole in the neighborhood that filled up with water after a rain and you swam around like crazy.  Don't know why it was funny, but it made me laugh.  We used to take you on the nature trails and Turkey Trail-you just loved being outdoors, smelling all the smells, soaking it all up.  So did we.  The girls used to sneak you into the neighborhood pool late at night so you could go for a swim.  That was bad, but I let them do it anyway.  They loved you so much.

One of the big things they used to do was set up obstacle courses for you in the garage-boxes, etc...for you to work your way around.  It was pretty funny.  When you were smaller, they would get a big blue tub from the garage, get in their swimsuits and give you a bath.  You had such a good life, little dog.

You loved your squeaky ball and we probably threw it way too much, contributing to your arthritis.  However, in our defense, we could not even sit outside without you squeaking it mercilessly until someone threw it.  You loved it so much.

There is no possible way to record 12 years of life here but some random memories are:

Taking you upstairs (a big "no no") with a bow around your neck for Rachel's birthday.  Bringing you in the house and putting a Santa hat on you for Christmas pictures.  You and Daffodil playing through the broken screen-you sticking your nose in and her swiping at it with her paw.  Daffodil attacking you when you would come in at night.  You getting impaled on the fence-ugh, that was awful.  Our African American nicknames for you and Daff:  DeClove and FoDill.  All our silly songs we used to make up about you.  The girls will know.  Taking you to Colorado-that is probably where you got your death tick-but you loved it so-the cabin (Squirrel!!!)-the snow-the bears-the stream-all of it.  Oh my gosh!!!!!  The very first time we took you to Colorado and we had you in the cage in the back of the Expedition and you had a HUGE blowout right in the middle of a construction zone where we could not pull over for about 30 minutes-we had all the windows rolled down with our heads out!!!!!!!  You trying to eat the water that came out of the hose, or sprinklers-snapping at it over and over again.  The girls hiding your ball in all the leaves they raked up and making you look for it.  Making you homemade doggie biscuits from a kit I got them for Christmas-like I said, you had a good life.  They loved you so much.  They used to bring the neighbor dogs over so you could have friends to play with.

I know the girls will remember so many more things about you.  They spent much more time with you than I did.  But the one thing that melts my heart that I will miss more than ever is looking into your loyal, loving brown eyes.  You could get me to do anything with those eyes.  I miss you more than I can say, Dee.

Venus

I looked out the window early this morning and saw your star in the sky.  It broke me.  You have been taken out of this world.  You were such a beautiful person.  You taught me so much about life and family and loving Jesus with all your heart.  I still remember our very first conversation at Real Life Group when we were talking about how we wanted to set up our group and the topic of whether we should have food or not came up.  We both agreed that our food should be Jesus-that our focus should be Him and why would we have silly, superfluous things when He was there for the taking?  I remember laughing and being amazed that someone else felt the exact way I did about it.  I remember you.  You made such an impact on me that night and from then on.  You never complained-about anything.  You did not tolerate me complaining either.  The day Rachel left for Nepal I was so full of fear.  I emailed several friends about it.  They all consoled me-all except you.  You put me in my place telling me "she has kingdom work to do" and to basically snap out of it.  I loved you for that.  You always had God's perspective on life-always an eternal mindset.  I can still see your smile and you shaking your head and your beautiful heart spilling out of your eyes-your heart of love for the Father.  I will never forget you and Steve's testimony of how Jesus saved you, your heart for your family, your love for the Persian people.  I remember our lovely dinner at the Persian restaurant and the times you had us over for dinner.  I remember the night we invited the Iraqui couple over and the girls hid upstairs, spying over the railing to hear Steve share Jesus with them.  I remember every time I left you, you told me you loved me-and I know you did-I saw it.  You loved my girls like they were your own. The pink whisps of morning clouds are in the sky now and your star is gone-like you, my friend.  I will never forget you and the beautiful, passionate way you loved our Jesus.  I got a message from your sweet daughter last night-just like you-resolute, focused on Christ-gentle and sweet.  What a legacy you have left.  Dance with Jesus, my friend.  You are home now.

Fall

Hi Mom-First rain of the fall-first promise of cooler weather coming, of a break in the heat.  Corresponds to my heart-this is the first week I have felt a small break in the agony of losing you and although I know it is a permanent wound, it hurts a tiny bit less this week and hey, I'll take it.  I still think of you all the time, in so many small and large moments of each day.  Yesterday I decorated my house for fall-a season you taught me to love with all its colors and cool weather.  You taught me to make my home a sanctuary of beauty and peace for my family and I will honor your memory in this.  Christina has been having a hard time lately.  Last night I took her to a movie, just to get her out and get her mind off of things.  I thought about you and what an advocate you always were for your kids and grandkids.  That is something you would have done.  You always entered into our sadnesses and tried to bring light.  I love that.  Thanks for that example, mom.  I live it every day.  So....happy fall, happy relief, happy that you are where you are even though I miss you here like crazy.

Souvenirs

"Here's to the twilight, here's to the memories, these are my souvenirs, my mental picture of everything......I close my eyes and go back in time, I can see you're smiling, you're so alive......."

I have so many souvenirs, mom, of your time here on earth-physical, mental, emotional and spiritual.  I carry them with me.  They are my memories of you and at times they overwhelm.  This morning was our first cool morning of the fall-I sat out on the patio and happened to glance up at the clouds-they were glorious!  Rays of light were bursting through, shouting their presence and I wondered where you were-"up there", "out there".  What does that even mean?  You are no longer in space and time.  Your soul is safe with Jesus but man, I miss you down here.  Life is NOT the same at all.  Never will be again.  A huge rip in the fabric of life-an irreparable one.  So I will treasure my souvenirs of our time together-I will hold to things you taught me and the person that you were and the love you gave me.

Bask

Dear Mom-  It doesn't seem right that you are not in this world.  I go about my day, unaware, distracted and then this overwhelming sorrow starts in my gut and moves up until it overflows through tears out of my eyes:  you are gone.  Really gone.  I won't see you on this earth ever again.  I try not to let it overwhelm me but it is sad and I miss you.  Every day.  Really miss you.  Life is hard and people are mean and sometimes I just need my mom.  However, I am so thankful you are where you are.  I would never ever want you back here. The only light here is Jesus-everything else is darkness.  Even with Him, some days, I just don't understand life at all....or people......or why things have happened as they have and why my heart is sad all the time.  No, mom, you are better off where you are.  So bask in it-bask in God's glorious presence.  And I will be happy for you.

The Last Night That She Lived

Oh mom-last night I was sick and my nose was plugged up and I could not breathe so I had to breathe with my mouth open and my throat got sore and I was so miserable.  All I could think about was your last 3 days and how you labored, with your mouth open too, and dehydrated, and how miserable you must have been.  But then, "death is swallowed up in victory."  That is what it is, mom.  You are free.  Your trials are over.

I found this Emily Dickinson poem last night upon planning Christina's school for the week.  It took my breath away and I had to reread it several times.  I cannot believe how almost perfectly it describes that last night with you.  Here goes:


The last night that she lived
It was a common night
Except the dying-this to us
Made nature different.

We noticed smallest things-
Things overlooked before
By this great light upon our minds
Italicized-as 'twere.

As we went out and in
Between her final room
And rooms where those to be alive
Tomorrow were-a blame

That others could exist
While she must finish quite
a jealousy for her arose
So nearly infinite.

We waited while she passed
It was a narrow time
Too jostled were our souls to speak
At length the notice came.

She mentioned, and forgot
Then lightly as a reed
Bent to the water, struggled scarce-
Consented, and was dead.

And we-we placed the hair
And drew the head erect
And then an awful leisure was
Belief to regulate.

Wow, just wow,  mom.  This says it so well from our perspective.  I wonder what your poem would be like from heaven?