You Will Laugh Again

I will never forget the day I learned of my mother’s sudden death. It was in the afternoon as I was heading out the door to go pick up a friend from the airport and then run to my newspaper job for a night shift. There were no cell phones in those days. The airport was almost an hour away. I couldn’t cry. I had to drive.

I returned from funeral leave right before my 25th birthday. Celebrating was the furthest thing from my mind. But my co-workers brought in a card and a cake. Some friends showed up at my door to take me out. I wouldn’t enjoy any of it, but I would endure it.

Nothing brought me joy for the longest time. A beautiful summer day just meant another day when I wouldn’t hear my mother’s voice; a brilliant starlit sky was just something else my mother would never again appreciate.

In those early days, I was certain I would never again know happiness. Guilt would overwhelm me if I caught myself smiling. How could I be happy? All that was left for me was pain.

That was half a lifetime ago. Sometimes it still feels like yesterday, and sometimes it feels as if it all happened to someone else to whose heartache I was a vicarious witness. 

The next few years brought massive changes. Marriage. Recommitment to Christ. Babies. Career shift. New friendships. New priorities. New laugh lines around my eyes. New joy.

It happened slowly, that return to joy. Sometimes anniversaries would hit me unexpectedly hard, but still the joy returned.

This past Friday would have marked my mother’s 75th birthday. It was impossible to miss, what with two of her surviving siblings having birthdays in the same week. All week long, I announced advent of my mother’s birthday to my family, as if to prepare myself. So I was ready. Laying sod that day followed by a wedding that night were excellent distractions.

As I left the wedding, I listened to a voicemail from another of my mother’s sisters, my precious Aunt Ellen. “I was thinking about you today,” she said. And for just a moment, I choked inside. But it was okay. It really was okay. I told her so.

The Lord blessed the latter part of Job’s life more than the first. He had 14,000 sheep, 6,000 camels, a thousand yoke of oxen and a thousand donkeys. And he also had seven sons and three daughters.  – Job 42:12-13

God has been my Rebuilder, my Restorer and my Rewarder. By HIs grace, He has loosened the shackles of grief and filled me with His joy and His peace. And so I may laugh again.

Our mouths were filled with laughter, our tongues with songs of joy. Then it was said among the nations, “The Lord has done great things for them.” – Psalm 126:2

Dear hurting friends, may the joy of the Lord be your strength. You will again smile – not a self-conscious smile, but a sincere smile – and you will again laugh without pain. The Lord will indeed do great things for you, as your laughter will someday testify.

You First

Most of my readers are old enough to remember those awkward moments that come with the first declaration of love: “You first.” “No, you first.” From the beginning, both partners shy away from emotional risks. We humans are just frail like that.

We go through our lives in a mode of avoidance – avoiding risks, avoiding confrontation, avoiding anything that upsets our serene facades. And speaking of serenity, I’m experiencing a flashback of one of the worst movies ever – Serenity – in which the a male character exclaims, “She is seriously beginning to disturb my calm!” We really don’t like to disturb the calm.

Having gone through 25 years of abuse before I met my husband, I’m the poster child for avoidance. In fact, when I was eight months pregnant with our youngest son, my husband and I had an argument right at bedtime. I really wanted to go walk off my steam and avoid a fight, but the alarm system – housed in our bedroom – was set. So I tried to do the next best thing: climb out a bathroom window. It wasn’t a pretty sight. Needless to say, we ended up talking things out late at night when the clatter from the bathroom woke my husband up, and he found me – ahem – stuck. (Can you say hormones?)

Many of us go to extraordinary lengths to avoid uncomfortable situations. We don’t walk past the home of a certain neighbor. We don’t sit in a certain section of the church anymore to avoid that person who used to be our friend. We may even avoid certain social settings once a relationship has been strained. And sometimes those we avoid may not even know why we avoid them.

If you’re remotely familiar with the New Testament, you know Jesus was not wired like us. He was confrontational in a way that made people around Him squirm uncomfortably. And Jesus commands us to take initiative in resolving conflict:

“Therefore, if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to your brother; then come and offer your gift.” – Matthew 5:24

Confrontation, if done correctly, is good because it allows us to emerge from our season of stagnation back into a season of health and growth. The secret: love.

Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will in all things grow up into Him who is the Head, that is, Christ. – Ephesians 4:15

Love for self is often at the heart of our resistance to addressing relationship struggles. “I don’t need that kind of headache right now.” “I’m waiting for him to apologize to me.” 

But Jesus takes issue with our egocentricity. 

Do nothing out of selfish ambition or van conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others. – Philippians 2:3-4

Ouch. There’s that word: humility. But now we’re coming to the really good part, the part where you find your incentive to change.

Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus, who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made Himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. – Philippians 2:6-7

We had a relationship problem with God – aka our sin – that we couldn’t even begin to address. But Jesus took initiative. He gave up the glories of heaven and came down to earth as a man born in the humblest of circumstances, only to be rejected by the people He came to save and then to die an unthinkable death. That’s what reconciliation cost Him. I guarantee reconciliation with the people in your life will not come at such a high price.

So take initiative. You first. 

I Want

Okay, I have a guilty confession. I love to watch HGTV’s Househunters. I live vicariously through people who are at an exciting and critical juncture in life, and I love to offer advice without argument. 

The show also gives me insight into what goes through the head of the average Joe in our society. And sometimes that makes me a little crazy, especially when it comes to hearing the wish lists of potential home buyers.

Maybe some of you are a little lost right now because you haven’t been bitten by the Househunters bug. Let me break it down for you. In each show, a wanna-be homeowner somewhere in the country (or in the international version, the world) is paired with a real estate agent who helps him find a home meeting his budget and other criteria.

What’s maddening is all the first-time homebuyers – generally 20-somethings – whose “needs” exceed their budget. They must have their dream homes right off the bat. In looking at outdated but functional kitchens or bathrooms, their response would be, “This needs to be redone before we can move in.” Oh, and don’t even show them homes without an elaborate master suite with a Ritz Carlton-quality on-suite bath. That’s a need.

I’m so thankful none of them visited my home when we daily beheld concrete floors and a rotting baby-blue Formica countertop. They would have needed Prozac.

Now before young people come after me with high-end machetes, please know you’re not the only sufferers of I Wantism. Many of you live within your means, and that’s applaudable. Though the elevation of wants over needs may be endemic among some young people, but it’s just as common among older people who feel they’ve earned the right to have what they want when they want it.

This is a subject at the forefront of my mind as I struggle with my own flareups of I Wantism. I want a remodeled bathroom with a double sink and a fancily tiled walk-in shower. I want an Alaskan cruise. I want a 2005 aqua Thunderbird – and when I see one on the road, you may think that you would need to give me one just to shut me up.

But God hasn’t chosen to give me any of those things. Not yet, anyway. (I still have high hopes for the T-Bird.) Instead, God’s Word issues a scathing indictment of my I Wantism:

You ask and don’t receive because you ask with wrong motives, so that you may spend it on your evil desires. – James 4:1

Ouch. That hurts because it’s so true. But wait a minute: Are a remodeled bathroom, an Alaskan cruise or a 2005 aqua Thunderbird evil desires? In themselves, no. The problem comes when I yearn for those things more than I yearn for the things of God.

Adulteresses! Don’t you know that friendship with the world is hostility toward God? So whoever wants to be the world’s friend becomes God’s enemy. – James 4:4

My primary focus must shift from the perishable to the imperishable, from the things with which I satisfy myself to the things with which I magnify God.

But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these other things shall be added unto you as well. – Matthew 6:33

Perhaps it would be a good exercise to list our I Wants into two columns – those things that we want for our own sake and those things we want for the sake of His kingdom. Would one column be empty and the other full? 

And as we view that list of I Wants, let’s ask ourselves whether our stewardship strengthens or weakens our Christian witness. By indulging our wants, are we neglecting our commitments – our tithes, our debts or our provision for our families? Yes, even God’s children fall into such traps, sometimes to escape by gnawing off their own hands.

Our first and last desire in all things should be God’s glory. The stuff of this world is going to burn – even (sigh) the most pristine aqua Thunderbird – but the stuff we do for the Lord will endure through all eternity.

But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a roar, and the heavenly bodies will be burned and dissolved, and the earth and the works that are done within it will be exposed. Since all these things are thus to be dissolved, what sort of people ought you to be in lives of holiness and godliness.

 – 2 Peter 3:10-11

Jesus is coming back, my friends, and though I will be judged based upon His righteousness because I have placed my faith in Him alone, I cannot bear the thought that my works will be exposed as rubbish. What I truly want: to hear my Lord tell me, “Well done, good and faithful servant.” Now put that at the top of your I Want list.

Enjoy the Moment

Our two grown sons still live at home. For the past 24 years, my primary focus has been on being a wife and mom, so the idea of being an empty-nester is a little unsettling for me – so much so that I find myself living in dread of it. What then?

My sense of dread has grown the past few months as one son prepares to leave the nest, and the second son is growing stronger land legs with which to navigate his own ship through life. 

The dread has lingered like a toxic cloud over everyday life: time spent in the car together, family dinners, recreation time, holidays. I mustn’t take this moment for granted, I tell myself. Life’s too short.

Yes, that’s very true. Never take anyone or anything for granted. But does that mean we go through life in mourning for what inevitably must take place?

Can the wedding guests mourn as long as the bridegroom is with them? The days will come when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then they will fast. – Matthew 9:15

Think about all the things that will pass in your lives: every season, every penny, every life. If we were to mourn those things we someday – even someday soon – will lose, we would spend our whole lives in mourning!

A beautiful sunrise would become a harbinger of the darkness we know will come.

A smile would point us to the tears that eventually will follow.

A hug would only serve to remind us of the loneliness that is lurking.

We would fail to savor dwindling moments with a patriarch or matriarch, knowing the chair of the one at whose feet we sit will soon be empty.

The gratitude when awaking to a new day would fade to grief with the recognition that our earthly tents will fail.

The joys of a vacation would be swallowed up in the impending dread of our day-to-day drudgery.

The sweetness of family fellowships would have a bitter aftertaste.

A glorious provision would only remind us of our desperate needs.

An encouraging word would fall flat in the face of a struggle.

Instead, I encourage you to enjoy the moment. Yes, it is fading, as are we. But enjoy it. It is a gift from God. Allow yourself an unblemished memory that you can relish on a drier day. 

Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. – Matthew 6:34

This is a short exhortation to you – and to myself. Many seasons have come and gone in my life. I pray I’m able to enjoy every last one, all the way to the very last one. Be at peace, my friends.

Right Where I Want You

Sometimes I wish I could look upon all your faces because, honestly, the life of a writer can be demanding and isolating – in a word, lonely. I stare endlessly at a computer screen and piles upon piles of printed notes. The occasional face-to-face meeting is such a welcome change that I inevitably dress up, even if those I’m meeting are in jeans.

Meanwhile, my two sons and many of my friends are preparing for mission trips. Some of my dearest friends issued an invitation to join them in the Asian jungle. One woman I know has a regular prayer meeting in her home for our country. Others participate in Bible studies or serve regularly at outreaches.

You’ll usually find me at my computer.

My heart yearns to reach the world for Christ, so in a deep blue funk, I recently pleaded, “Lord, please put me in a position to serve You more effectively!” This was my cry for a very miserable couple of weeks while I felt as if I watched opportunities pass me by.

My work wasn’t much of a joy through all this. I often felt overwhelmed and underequipped. But then, in one of those still moments as I reflected upon the work before me, I heard the Lord say, “You’re right where I want you to be.”

That caught me off guard. How can I, Little Miss Isolationist, be right where God wants me to be? But then I thought about it: The very qualities that my clients appreciate about me – my commitment to excellence, my work ethic, my good attitude, my genuine concern for my colleagues – are all reflections of Christ within me.

Though I am not obnoxious about my faith in dealing with my clients, I am overtly Christian. I ask about their families. I make mental notes about areas in which they need prayer. I let them know I pray for them.

And perhaps, when their worlds fall apart – which they will, because it happens to all of us – they will come to me for counsel, and I can speak God’s truth into their hearts. Perhaps. 

The same is true for you, the young mom whose life revolves around feedings, sleep schedules and endless heaps of laundry. And for you, the schoolteacher whose faith must remain veiled in the classroom but who aches inside for the lostness she sees daily. And for you, the sandwich generation mom torn between caring for children to caring for an elderly parent. And for you, the working dad whose days are filled with job responsibilities and honey-do lists. And you, the retiree whose declining health limits his energy and availability.

Young mom, cherish this time of imparting Christ upon your loved ones, and take Him with you to the grocery store, the pediatrician’s office and the playground. To the teacher, know that your nurturing heart speaks volumes of your otherwise silent faith in Christ. Dear sandwich mom, know it is Christ bringing encouragement through you as you minister so tirelessly to your husband and children and so tenderly to your aged parent. Dear husband and father, be assured your light is shining before men so that others may see your good works and praise your Father in heaven (Matthew 5:33). Precious retiree, as your light fades, let His light grow ever brighter before the doctor who cares for you, the man who delivers the oxygen to your home and the home healthcare nurse who visits you regularly.

The people in your sphere of influence may never know another Christian. You may be the only Jesus they ever see. Go bold. Go bright. All the way to the end, no matter where you are. Think supernova. The only limitation on our effectiveness for Christ is our willingness to be used of Him in any and every situation. 

But in your hearts set apart Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. – 1 Peter 3:15

Today I prayed extensively over a story I was assigned to write. I wanted the Lord to inspire me and to let His handprint be evident in my work. My client was moved to tears by my work. By the power of the One who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, I was able to exceed the client’s greatest hopes. Solo deo gloria.

Yes, Lord, I do believe I’m right where you want me. And when it’s time to move on, let me be moved by You.

Access Granted

First, I want to give a shout-out to my readers all over the world: the United States, the Philippines, Russia, the United Kingdom, Canada, Serbia, Romania, Italy, Germany, Brazil, Australia, France, Singapore, Venezuela, Australia, Turkey, Hong Kong, Argentina and probably a few more I’ve missed. I’m truly humbled that God is bringing us together.

Second, I have to apologize for not posting more often. The fact is, I write for a living, and reality demands I tend to the paying work first. And the paying work has been keeping me pretty busy, though not necessarily productive, as you will see.

A few weeks ago, my largest client asked me to take on project management for a newsletter I help write and edit. It was a great fit, and I was honored to do it. The problem – or at least a problem – was that I work remotely instead of on site.

This required I be granted remote access. Turned out that I had been granted access about a month earlier, except that I was notified of the new account and given the password via the account that I couldn’t access without knowledge that it existed or the password with which to access it. See the problem? Resolving all the access issues took weeks of persistence of my part and on the part of a dedicated IT employee.

Sadly, many of us go through an entire lifetime believing envisioning an “access denied” warning when it comes to gleaning the truths of the Bible for ourselves. We believe that we must rely upon others to read the Bible to us, and those same people must interpret it for us because we do not possess the ability to unlock its mysteries for ourselves.

I was there for a long time myself. On Sundays, I listened hungrily to the Scripture passage that was read and always yearned for more. How incredibly freeing it was for me when I learned that God intended for me to read His truths for myself and that He had provided a Helper through whom to understand what He was trying to teach me.

But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you. – John 14:26

But when He, the Spirit of truth, comes, He will guide you into all truth. He will not speak on His own; He will speak only what He hears, and He will tell you what is to come. – John 16:13

You don’t need a degree or title to read and understand the Word of God. You don’t need to stand behind a pulpit or wear a robe. You don’t need to be a scholar or a student of hermeneutics.

Getting our hearts and heads around Scripture is a matter of dogged determination to plunge in head-first by the guidance of the Author of truth Himself. You can pray as the psalmist himself prayed:

Open my eyes that I may see wonderful things in Your law. I am a stranger on earth; do not hide Your commands from me. – Psalm 119:18-19

Let me understand the teaching of your precepts; then I will meditate on your wonders. – Psalm 119:27

When the temple veil was torn, Jesus allowed us common folk into the Holy of Holies. Everyone who believes in Him has been made into a priest before Him (1 Peter 2:9).  And His truth instructs us and gives us assurance of His salvation.

I write these things to you who believe in the name of the Son of God so that you may know that you have eternal life. – 1 John 5:13

The way you get to know someone is by spending time with him. It’s the same with God. Know God by knowing His Word. Access granted.

Fast and Furious

Most days after lunch, I eat a small piece of chocolate – something like a DOVE® chocolate or a Ghirardelli® square. Dark chocolate is my indulgence of choice, though I’ve recently discovered that Ghirardelli® milk chocolate is a pretty wicked second. Anyway, this is my routine. Sometimes that routine will even carry over to dinner hour. I love my routine. I love my routine because I love my chocolate.

But as Ash Wednesday approached, I felt convicted to do something out-of-the-box for someone in my denomination: I decided to fast during Lent. The whole concept behind fasting is to give up something meaningful to you to help you reflect upon Christ’s sacrifice.

But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. – Romans 5:8

I contemplated the various things I could give up. Facebook came to mind, but I use that to know how to pray for people and to stay in touch with long-distance relatives. Television was out because I live in a household of men. The one thing that kept creeping back into my mind was chocolate.

My family certainly knows my penchant for chocolate after a meal, but most days I eat lunch alone. The Lord Himself would have to hold me accountable. But the sacrifice hasn’t been a temptation in the least. My resolve even held up at the fro-yo store as I beheld a treasure trove of chopped chocolates that would beautifully crown my chocolate and vanilla swirl. I smiled to myself as I passed them by. How much sweeter they’ll taste after Easter, I reminded myself (though my yogurt did look a bit naked). 

As we go through this season of our inconsequential sacrifices, remember to count it all joy – as long as it’s not Almond Joy, if you’re sharing my object of abstinence. Don’t make a show of it, as by getting all pouty when you have to bypass semisweet morsels. In fact, avoid the pouting altogether – along with the complaining.

When you fast, do not look somber as the hypocrites do, for they disfigure their faces to show men they are fasting. I tell you the truth, they have received their reward in full.  But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, so that it will not be obvious to men that you are fasting, but only to your Father, who is unseen; and your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you. – Matthew 6:16-18

I apply the fasting principle when I’m sick or weighed down with a pressing problem. The world doesn’t need to focus on my problems; it has enough problems of its own. What it needs to focus on is Christ. If I smile through sickness, sacrifice and pain, then the world is seeing Him and not me. That is especially important when I’m serving the Lord, whether on church property or in my community.

When you fast-forward to Easter, you’ll be reminded that what He gave up – His throne, His dignity and ultimately, His life – were infinitely more valuable than our token sacrifices. So gussy yourself up and put your best face forward. Keep the furious out of the fast.