Trusting God through the losses of life

“The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away;
may the name of the LORD be praised.”
In all this, Job did not sin by charging God with wrongdoing.
~  Job 1:21b-22  ~

Loss and the subsequent grieving process seem to always be a part of our lives. We lose loved ones, jobs, our health, our faculties, relationships, material possessions, status and especially our car keys LOL!

Learning to grieve and work through those losses are the most important tasks of our lives, often determining the extent of our spiritual growth and ministry on this earth. Jesus pointed that out when he shared the parable about the kernel of wheat falling into the ground and dying in order to yield a large harvest. (John 12:24)

One of my favorite Bible stories centers around Ruth and Naomi. (The Book of Ruth, chapters 1-4)  Both women suffered heavy losses. Naomi was uprooted from friends and family in Bethlehem to move to a new land where she experienced the pain of being an outsider. Then her husband died, leaving her and her sons to fend for themselves. They were stuck in a strange land because returning to Israel meant a further loss of livelihood – the famine was heavy there, leaving no grazing land for their flocks.

As long as she had her two sons, Naomi felt compelled to be strong – to bear her losses and carry on in this foreign place. She even managed to rejoice and grew to love her new daughters-in-law when her sons married local girls. But when both of her sons died, leaving her virtually alone and unprotected in a foreign place, Naomi’s resolve cracked and a deep depression which had been building up for a long time overcame her soul. She lost her faith in God, allowing the pent up anger and bitterness inside to well up to the point where she wanted to change her name to Mara(bitter).Even returning to her home and friends didn’t help break through her depression.

Orpah coped with her loss of her husband by taking the easier route away from her pain. At the first opportunity, she returned to the safety of her home, despite the fact that she belonged to Naomi’s family through the marriage contract.We can’t really fault Orpah – she was doing what she needed to do for herself to carry on; choosing to be surrounded by family and friends and the potential of remarriage rather than making the drastic life changes involved in staying with Naomi.

Ruth, on the other hand,had discovered something powerful and real through her marriage to Mahlon – she discovered faith in a new God who cared for His people and offered her a way of escape from the hardships of her life in Moab. We don’t know what her life was like before she married Mahlon, but it must have been bad enough to cause her to to be desperate to leave Moab with Naomi, despite the fact that Naomi painted a very bleak picture of the future in Israel for her daughter-in-law.

Through her newfound faith, Ruth embraced the pain of her loss. She worked through it to the point where she accepted the future, no matter what it held, because she trusted God. Sure Ruth keenly felt the loss of her husband, but the thoughts of losing her relationship with Naomi and Naomi’s God hurt worse – a loss she couldn’t bear. So she worked through her feelings of loss with trust in her new God to take care of her even if things got as bad as Naomi said they would.

Her attitude, like that of Job in today’s quote, pleased God. He brought her into a new land where she put down roots and flourished under His care. Her tears were wiped away and her life morphed into more than she ever dreamed it could as she married Boaz, had a son and was welcomed into Bethlehem’s society. God even blessed her by incorporating her into the lineage of the Messiah. Through Ruth’s healing, the lives of all around her were touched. Naomi eventually overcame her own depression and learned to live again.

I wish I could say I always reacted to loss the way Ruth did.But I can’t. I’ve experienced deep depression many times over the course of my life resulting from painful losses. I’ve also coped by taking the easier way out rather than trusting God to walk me through the hard places. But in those times when I have managed to trust Him through the losses, I have seen phenomenal growth and healing in my life.  I have reached some of my goals that I never believed possible!

We all suffer loss, but my prayer for you today is that you might know the comfort, strength and even joy of the Lord through those losses; that you might experience the healing, growth and overcoming power of the Lord to bring you to new heights because of those losses like He did for Ruth and Job. Amen!

Today’s In Other Words is hosted by Miriam over at her blog MiPa’s Monologue. If you’d like to play along, blog about today’s quote on your blog site, then hop on over to Miriam’s blog and leave your URL with the Linky tool

Be sure to leave her a comment so she knows you visited and if you have time, visit the other blogs listed there to see everyone’s take on the quote. You’ll definitely be blessed!.

Who’s an April Fool?

Ok, I know April fool’s day has come and gone, but it was kinda fun this year….

No, I didn’t play any jokes – at least not intentionally. I was baby sitting for my 2 grandkids in Maryland and handing out money to my d-i-l  whose birthday was a joke on her mom 37 years ago. But it was a good day nevertheless.

Six year old Avery is in Kindergarten and is such a cutie. We started talking on Friday afternoon after his parents left. I made a statement and in typical six-year-old fashion he asked, “Why?”

“Why?” he asked again after I gave him the answer.  After my third reply and yet another, “Why?” I couldn’t help myself; I started laughing out loud. I don’t remember my own children going through the “Why?” stage, but I guess they did. It just tickled my funny bone to hear Avery do it with such a serious expression on his little face.

While I giggled, he looked at me as if I suddenly sprouted bunny ears. Then a grin spread across his face and he said, “Grammy, you’re making April Fools!” 

Saturday evening, Avery told me Mother Nature was making April Fools because  it was snowing with thunder and lightning outside. I guess so! We ended up with 4 inches of wet yucky white stuff on the ground which the forecasters did not predict. Every bit of it melted away by Sunday afternoon so I could travel the back roads home with no problems.

Once home, I began to get caught up on the weekend mail and noticed an interesting story on the front page of the northern NY newspaper where I used to work. The paper comes out once a week on Fridays (which just happened to be on you-know-what day this year LOL!) The lead story showed a photo of SOMETHING with a head and several humps swimming in the Oswegatchie River. An Oswegatchieness Monster perhaps??????

What a great story. The writer hooked his audience right from the beginning with an outrageous, yet believable story about a trucker passing through town who saw this thing on the river as he crossed the bridge.  The trucker photographed it with his cell phone and then called the local paper.

After the interview, the trucker climbed into the cab of his truck and told the news editor, “I’ll be driving slow and looking into the river again…. just in case.”

To which the editor laughed and replied, “I happen to see gullible readers who read this story all the way to the end before realizing it’s April Fools Day.”

Got me again!

Keep a craft room (or household) journal

Why Bother to Journal? Part 8

Several months ago, I ran across a discussion on a rubber stamping forum about cataloging our supplies. When I walked into my craft room, I nearly suffered a heart attack thinking of the task that lay ahead!

That room is filled with  so many cool tools and so much…well…stuff. But it’s my stuff and I do use it. So, I began a craft room journal  of all that “stuff” in an organized fashion, listing the items and their use and replacement cost.

As the thread suggested, I started with my markers and coloring supplies. But I soon gave up because I had so many run-of-the-mill dollar variety sets, purchased during those back to school supply sales each summer. However, I did manage to catalog all the more valuable items like punches, scissors,  die cutting supplies and non-consumable tool items in the room.

Oh my aching head! Why would I put myself through this tedious torture?

• One obvious reason is for insurance purposes. Heaven forbid if a disaster ever struck my craft room and all its contents were lost (No, I’m not talking about those whirlwind creative days when hurricane Bonnie blows through the room. LOL!)

I use many of my craft items on a continuous basis and would definitely want to replace them if something happened. But in the aftermath of a fire or other destructive event, I know I wouldn’t think clearly enough to remember all the items I have. After all, I’ve been purchasing tools and supplies for this card-making passion of mine for over 15 years.

• A second reason to keep this type of journal for my craft room is to be able to see at a glance what supplies I have to prevent duplication when shopping.

It’s true. I come from a family of habitual hoarders! When we began clearing out my parents’ home to sell it, we started with only a pathway to get through the rooms. As we worked our way to the outer walls, we found several  cases of paper towels and a dozen unopened 3 pound cans of coffee. New sheet sets still in the wrappers and brand new bath towels while the shredded ones hung on the bathroom towel bars.

Groan! I promised myself then that I would never succumb to the family disease, but I do have a craft gadget fetish. If there is a new tool that will do the job more efficiently than one I already have, well….. But at least I’m not buying the exact same tool or Cricut cartridge twice, though I have found some duplicates among my $1 stamp sets.

• Perhaps the most important reason for me to keep this craft room journal is to see how much I have invested in my craft hobby (obsession). What an eye opener as I went through my supplies and tools shelf by shelf!

I found consumable supplies I purchased on sale thinking that “someday” I would use them. But someday never came and here they still are taking up space while I buy more sale items to squirrel away! I have wonderful stash of design paper, cardstock, brads, embellishments and other assorted treasures – enough that I shouldn’t have to purchase anything for a loooooong time. And those addictive little $1 stamps…I have over one hundred of them, most of which haven’t seen ink yet.

So the challenge is now to use it or lose it as I streamline things. Not only am I reclaiming valuable space in my craft room by whittling away at my consumable stash, I’m saving money. Before buying new stamps or consumable items, I can see what I have at a glance and peel my fingers off that I’ll-use-it-someday sale item.

I’ve even been able to sell a few of my tools that have duplicate functions. Hmmmm….Florida, here I come!

The Shortcut Less Travelled

“If you don’t change the direction you are going,
then you are likely to end up where you are headed.”

~ ~John Maxwell~

Every once in awhile,  Dan and I enjoy taking a drive off the beaten path, turning onto roads we’ve never travelled before to see where we end up. What a great way to get to know the communities where we live, a chance to see unusual and beautiful sights and  time to chat, uninterrupted by phones or the television.

A few years ago, we headed toward home in Maryland after visiting family in PA. There was no rush to get home and the day was gorgeous for driving so we decided to turn off the Interstate onto a less travelled road that went through a state park. We knew generally where we were and where the road should come out so we opted to take the scenic route. We still had about 30 miles to reach home, but we thought the road might offer us a shortcut. No problem.

At first it was a nice two lane, well-maintained road with houses on either side – a typical country road. Then we entered the state forest land.  The road was still paved, and there were no signs indicating  a dead end, so we kept going. But the farther we travelled, the narrower the road became, turning into  gravel, then a packed dirt road.

Since Dan grew up in the country, he wasn’t fazed by the changes and decided to keep going. After all, we knew that a road bearing the same name came out near our home road.

But soon the dirt road narrowed into a single lane, grassy wooded path. There were even muddy puddles from a recent rain which I was sure could swallow us up and no one would ever find us since there was absolutely no traffic. No signs warned us to turn back.  I got a little worried and wanted to turn around, but there wasn’t even any place to turn around.

Still unfazed, Dan kept going, slowly but surely down the path, navigating  around the water puddles and careful to avoid branches which had fallen on the path. I’m not sure whether the Royal Ranger, explorer side of him kicked in or whether he was just too stubborn to backtrack and make our trip home even longer after wasting so much time on our current path.

Just when I had almost persuaded him to try to turn around, patches of gravel appeared on the path, sparse at first, then more often until we were back on a gravel road. Soon we were back on a real road again, complete with the white no passing stripes down the middle. Whew!

We ended up near where Dan thought the road would come out and with a few minor course adjustments, we soon turned onto our tried and true shortcut road home. It was an INTERESTING afternoon jaunt.

I’ve been on the journey with the Lord long enough to know if He directs me down a certain path, I’d better take it! It might lead me through some interesting, narrow, muddy, tree-strewn places – some places where I’m tempted to bite my nails and feel like turning back, but as long as He’s guiding me, I will come out exactly where He wants me to be.  Thanks Lord!

     Today’s In Other Words  is being hosted by Nina  of Mama’s Little Treasures. If you’d like to play along, share your thoughts about John Maxwell’s quote on your blog today.  Then, visit Nina’s blog  and share a  link to your blog.

Be sure to visit the others who have also written on it and leave them a comment so they know you were there! Happy Tuesday!

Why bother to journal?–part 7

The Family Journal

Time has a way of dulling even the most important memories of our lives.. We don’t intend to forget things, but ultimately we do.We can’t see the faces of loved ones who’ve passed away without a photograph to remind us. We can’t remember the everyday little things that used to give us so much pleasure – at least not until something triggers those memories. So here are some ideas to help keep those family memories safe.

• Keep a daily diary of all the funny, important, memorable things from each day. When my mother began showing signs of Alzheimer's, I lived far enough away that I couldn’t visit her very often. I began to write down at least one story from that day to share with her the next time I visited – anything from funny things my children did to memorable sermon points. Sometimes I included photos so she could read and see the family since it helped her remember.

Remember Anne Frank? She left a permanent record of her family’s struggles in World War II in the pages of her diary – a slice of life during a difficult time which has helped countless children and adults remember the horrors of that time in history.

• Interview parents while they are still here to get a good picture of what their lives were like and important lessons they learned, family traditions, stories, etc.

Too often we lose a valuable part of our heritage when family members die. Little things like their favorite foods and recipes are lost. How did they celebrate Christmas? What kind of games did they play? Where did they travel?

My father fought in World War II and has many photos of himself and his buddies standing outside his barracks in Hawaii, though he refused to talk about his experiences. The things I learned I had to piece together from his discharge papers and other small snippets of memorabilia I found after he passed away. Sites like www.military.com help to fill in the blanks. but I still feel as though I lost some valuable insights into my family history.

• Create scrapbooks with journaling of the family photos and the stories you collect. Include important papers like military discharge papers, old letters, photos, and other memorabilia you can find. One of the best pieces of memorabilia from my mother was an old autograph book with cute rhymes from her 10th grade schoolmates. 

Take some family time to go through the old family photos and write down who is in each one, the dates if possible and any memories the photo triggers. It will help to create a visual family tree of relatives long gone or ones you know little about. One of my mother;s relatives put together a genealogy of the family which dates back to  the 1700s when the family first arrived in the US. Around the early 1900s they began including photos as well which is a rich source of my Mennonite heritage.

My mother and father kept all the little remembrance cards from the funeral homes. For many of them i was able to piece together small snippets of memories about their lives and family connections.

• Keep a record of family illnesses too. For example, I know almost every member of my dad’s family developed diabetes before they passed away. My mother’s family illnesses included arthritis, Alzheimer's and  some cancer. The information is important to pass on to my children and grandchildren.



• In the days following the death of a loved one, write down all the memories that come to you – not only will it help you to grieve through their loss, it will give you some tangible memories to look back on later, memories that could fade and be lost over time.

As you sort through their things, save their diaries, writings and personal memorabilia that you find.  You may not have time or  the heart to go through it right away, but later on you will value it and be better able to judge what you want to keep.

I’m not sure why, but the older I get, the more important it becomes to me to  remember my family heritage and pass on those memories to my grandchildren.  While they are busy growing up and changing their world, I have slowed down and find myself trying to document the important things my generation changed. We need the energy and enthusiasm of youth along with the wisdom of age and creating a family journal can help keep it all in perspective – not to mention give the grandkids a fit of giggles when they look back at our funny hair styles and clothing. LOL!

A Touch of Mercy–In Other Words Tuesday

“Nothing humbles and breaks the heart of a sinner
like mercy and love.
Souls that converse much with sin and wrath,
may be much terrified;
but souls that converse much with grace and mercy,
will be much humbled.”

~ ~Thomas Brooks (1608 – 1680) ~

A Touch of Mercy
Bonnie Winters © 6/5/2006

A short story based on John 8:1-11 (NIV)

Gritty dust caked on her teary cheeks as she lay panting on the ground where she fell. It mingled with blood seeping from the cut on her mouth where a heavy-handed man slapped her to quiet her protests.

“Get up, harlot. Let’s see how Jesus judges you today.” A rough hand hauled her to her feet and shoved her forward. She willed herself to keep silent against the pain as she stumbled into a circle of leering men. Regaining her balance, she lifted her chin in an attempt at a haughty pose. Her clenched teeth bit back the retort she would have made to the Pharisees who dragged her here.

Fools, she thought, raking the circle with her eyes. She masked her fading bravado as she realized there was nowhere to run. The bawdy crowd blocked her escape, calling for the Master’s decision.

“Stone her. She was taken in the very act of adultery. She is guilty!” A sallow man, dressed in the gaudy robes of richness, stroked his beard with one hand while he shook his other fist in the air. She recognized his beady eyes and harsh features; he was the man who had been spying on her every move, waiting and baiting her.

She spat her contempt in his direction as the crowd took up his accusation. “Stone her! Stone her. It is the law.” She could almost see their fingers twitch in anticipation against the rocks in their hands.

On the fringes of the tense crowd, enterprising young men lay odds on the outcome of the spectacle. Anger and fear warred in her breast as her breathing quickened through her clenched teeth.

The icy bitterness in her eyes focused on the one they called “Master.” Go ahead. Condemn me, just like everyone else. What’s it to you if I die? There will just be one less harlot in the world. Why should you care that a Roman soldier stole my virginity before I was even a woman? You are a man just like all the rest, taking what I offer, then spitting in my face. But at least when I ply my trade, I hold the power.

Jesus met her glare. Like the warm wind of spring blowing over the land, His gaze melted the ice in her eyes. The catcalls and demanding shouts from the crowd faded until He was the only one in her world. Suddenly the air grew thick as she gulped back the tears, trying to steel herself against the searing compassion in His eyes. Her heart burned as though a flame had scorched it - burning away all her defenses, her hatred and bitterness, leaving her soul naked before Him. She pulled her torn cloak tighter around her shoulders, grasping it about her neck. If only she could run and hide her shame from His eyes.

Unable to break the hold of His powerful gaze, images of her life flashed through her mind. She was a cowering child with a tear-stained face, an angry adolescent declaring she would overcome her oppressors, a haughty woman taking control of her life in the only way she knew how. His eyes reflected a frightened and hurting lioness ready to turn back toward her enemy in self-preservation and rip him to shreds. The total love and forgiveness she felt in his visual embrace shamed her to the core of her being.

How can He love me with all the bitterness and hatred I see in my heart? I can never be good enough – never be clean enough to be worthy of Him. She held her body rigid, fighting against His love. The only evidence of her inner struggle was the trembling of her lower lip.

When He turned his gaze away and stooped nearby to write in the dust, the burning faded. The air chilled as though the sun had disappeared behind a gray cloud. Her soul was alone again with its icy bitterness.

She became conscious of the crowd once more. “What is he doing?” Necks craned to read His words. “Why isn’t he doing something?” The crowd began to shift nervously. “He must call for stoning. It is the law!”

When the woman’s accusers continued to badger Him, He rose and met each man’s eyes with a level gaze. “If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her.”

“No!” Fear swallowed her last shred of hope as she raised her arms to cover her head for what little protection she could muster. He had deceived her! Lulled her into a false hope that He was different, caring. This Jesus was throwing her to the ravenous Pharisee dogs. She tensed, closing her eyes and waiting for the first stone to pelt her body. But the pain never came.

Nervous feet scuffed the ground, as the crowd dispersed man by man. Silence. She opened her eyes; slowly lowering her arms, daring to glance around her, yet ready to cover herself if needed. The Master still wrote on the ground, but the men were gone.

Her eyes stared at the man drawing pictures in the dust. She willed him to look at her, to face her and explain why – how He could move her heart to repentance in one moment then turn on her the next. But she dare not voice her thoughts. He was after all a man with the power to break her.

Finally Jesus stood and gazed around the empty street. “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”

The dragon of self-protection rose in her heart, spewing haughty words. “No one, sir.” As their eyes met for the second time, she flushed with self-condemnation for her shameful actions. She sniffed back the tears. Her lips trembled again, awaiting His judgment.

Why don’t you condemn me? Why don’t you stone me? You know what I am. You know the anger and hatred I feel. Do something! Please don’t just stand there staring at me. I deserve to die.

“Then neither do I condemn you.” He smiled, His understanding and love reaching out to her lonely heart. “Go now and leave your life of sin.”

She turned and fled from His presence, running until her breath came in hard gasps. Nausea roiled in the pit of her stomach. Bile burned her throat as she retched onto the hard-packed earth. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

Kneeling there beside the road, she poured out her sins and hurts to her God. I am so sorry, God, so sorry. She wept bitterly.

“Neither do I condemn you.” His words reverberated in her mind. “Go now and leave your life of sin.”

A feeling of lightness, newness, seeped into her soul. She could never, would never go back to that life again. He had seen the raw nakedness of her soul and showed mercy in spite of it. Behold, He made all things new

***

Today’s In Other Words is hosted by Twinkle Mom at her site SunflowerFaith.  If you’d like to participate, share you thoughts on your blog site.  Then, visit Twinkle Mom’s blog  and share a  link to your blog.

Be sure to visit the others who have also written on it and leave a comment for each one as well, so they know you were there.You will be blessed!

Why Bother To Journal? part 6

Leaving a family legacy

During some lean times several years ago, I wanted to give a special gift to each of my children at Christmas. I’m not sure where the idea came from, but I decided to put together a family cookbook with favorite family recipes. Along with each one, I included some journaling - family trivia like where the recipe came from, who liked it best or stories about when the recipe was served.

Using clip art and some word art from my computer, I printed two to three recipes per page, inserted them into page protectors and  categorized them into recycled three ring binders. There was Aunt Alice’s Jewish Apple Cake, the Father’s Day chicken marinade from a friend in northern NY and  my favorite chocolate-peanut butter owl cookies from Halloweens past, among others.

When we cleaned out my mother’s house to sell it several years ago, I claimed the family photos and her recipe books. What treasures! I found hand written recipes, many of which will find their way into the cookbook in future years with little anecdotes about my parents. Using the scanner, I can include them in her own handwriting, perhaps with a family photo to go along with it – a kind of recipe scrapbook sharing family food and traditions.

When my children were born, I started a baby journal for each of them.  My favorites were the spiral bound ones with pockets for each age group where I could file news clippings, samples of artwork, journalings of important events in their lives – spiritual as well as family events, medical shot records and photos of my kids from each age. I wasn’t very good at organizing the info in these, but when the children grew up, I had a nice fat packet of memorabilia to send with them.

My daughter and sister-in-law both create great scrapbooks for their families. They chronicle everything from important events to physical growth, blending photos, journaling and embellishments on each page to make them aesthetically pleasing. I look forward to receiving these photo journals each Christmas.

Scrapbooking has become so easy these days with all sorts of digital programs, both free and elite which allow you to upload photos,  make pages online and have then printed into coffee table type books for a modest fee.

Why do we create these scrapbooks, cookbooks and baby journals? I think it’s because we are wired that way. LOL! The older we get, the more important it becomes for us to leave our mark on the next generation. To be remembered. To help our children know their heritage.

In Deuteronomy, God instructed Moses to  teach the Israelites about Him from the time they were small. He knew how easy it was for them to forget the pain and suffering of slavery in Egypt. He understood they would soon forget the 40 year wilderness trek when they settled into their new homes in Canaan. The idolatrous ways of the local inhabitants would infiltrate Israel’s traditions and their worship, distilling it.  Eventually the influences of the world around them would lead them away from their dedication to God.

So God used visual things like the furniture of the Tabernacle and food items in the feasts like Passover to remind them of their heritage. Mothers repeated the family stories of their ancestors – Abraham, Isaac and Jacob -  to their children, beginning when they were tiny infants to help them remember.

God inspired men to write “journals” if you will, of their history and interaction with Him to be read on each Sabbath or holiday to remind the people of their special relationship with Him. These ancient writings became our Bible of today.

We may have more fancy technology to help us pass our stories and heritage on to our children, but one thing hasn’t changed. We are still charged with the responsibility to be sure our children remember who God is and what He has done for us. Through writing down our family stories, by writing down our testimonies, by sharing our day to day faith in journals and diaries, we can help our children know who God is and His plan for their lives.