A Prayer from Cerys

I just put Cerys down for a nap, and this is what she did while I was making her bed (she's taken to ripping the sheets off her bed every morning so she can make a tent with them. A tent being her wrapping the sheet around her head and body, curling up into a ball and saying, "look, Mom, I'm in a tent!" So I have to re-make her bed every day before naptime and before bedtime. But I digress...)

Cerys to Pooh bear: "Let's pray." Then she kneels down next to her bed with Pooh bear on her lap and says, "Jee-zsus, pray for Mike and Stacy that they not be sad." Then to Pooh bear: "Oh, you don't want to pray? Okay. Ay-men."

She's been pretty concerned about her pals Mike and Stacy since I went away for five whole days. Every day I was gone I would speak to her on the phone and she would say, "You still with Mike and Stacy? They still sad?" Her two-year-old mind can't quite comprehend what they're sad about and that they'll be sad for a long time, so it's a simple prayer "that they not be sad." Its sweetness cuts me to the heart.

Understanding God's goodness

I've really been struggling with the concept of God's goodness this last week. I have always counted my blessings--two healthy, beautiful children, a loving husband, a "normal" life not badly affected by what could be termed a rather dysfunctional childhood, healed relationships with my mom and dad, Tim's growing business, wonderful friendships, unexpected gifts, etc.--and said "God is so good." And of course He is. But the death of Will caused me to do a bit of a double-take because I was so convinced that God, though not performing the great miracle so many of us had asked for, was indeed performing little miracles every day by giving Will breath, better-than-expected growth and development, and an approaching surgery that would bring relief for his overworked heart. Will's death has not made me question whether God is good, rather what my understanding of that goodness is. Because if God being good can be somewhat measured by the many blessings in my life, then does it not stand to reason that the loss of Will was an act of God's cruelty? But I don't believe God can be cruel, so what then? Was Will's death an act of God's goodness? How is that possible? His indifference? Surely not. His big-picture view that allows him to sacrifice one for the sake of many? I have no idea. It's all bigger than I can comprehend.

So here I am trying to be in relationship with this God whom I love but don't really "get". And I start to think, well maybe God's more about character and kingdom building than He is about personal circumstances. But then I think about Him caring for the hungry throngs that followed Him and miraculously providing them with superfluous food and raising Lazarus from the dead and that little girl, too. He definitely cares about circumstances. But maybe He's powerless to fix some things that are the result of Satan being the ruler of this world. Maybe Satan and God had a little discussion about the Stavs the way they had about Job and God said, "Yeah, give them your best shot." Somehow that seems a bit far-fetched to me. But maybe. Or maybe disease and death are just part of creation groaning knowing that right now it is totally at odds with God's perfect kingdom, and God not stepping in is just a way for Him to remind us of what we should be hoping for. The point is, I just don't know. And I probably won't know until I'm rid of this flesh.

The question then becomes, "Am I okay with not knowing?" Am I okay with saying, "God I don't really see where your goodness fits in here, but I believe in it anyway." And it's one thing to say that now, but will I be able to say that if one of my children ever dies? It's a scary thought. For me, these are scary times. But they're also exciting times. Because I feel like I'm having to press into faith harder than I've ever pressed before. I'm having to let go of some ideas that perhaps were inaccurate or even wrong and just ask God to teach me. I'm in a place of longing and wrestling and waiting. And I think that yes, at least right now, I am okay with it. As long as God's okay with me screaming "WHAT?" when the not knowing gets to be a bit much.

Grief

I'm having trouble coping with this grief. I feel like I need a day to just lay in bed and cry. But as so many have noted, the clock keeps ticking, the daily grind continues grinding, and people here in Bedford just have to keep going. And people in the US have to keep going to. There are doctor visits, money to be made, laundry to do, dinners to make, children to play with, floors to scrub, dishes to clean, ad nauseum. And through it all in the back of my throat is a little catch and tears sting the fronts of my eyes as I don't know quite how to return to life as normal. I have never been to anything so sad as Will's funeral. I will never get the sound of Mike's sobs as he looked at his son's casket out of my ears. I will never get over the feeling of sheer helplessness as I watched Stacy silently cry throughout the weekend. So I just keep going back and watching the slide show and reading the eulogy and the homily and trying to process this weight and wondering how I'm going to relate to this God whom I don't understand. But as Peter said "Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life." So though I don't get what He was thinking when he didn't swoop in and rescue Will in the way I would have chosen, He's all I've got. And so I cling to Him. And carry on.

A Prayer for the Stavs

Will is gone. And my friends are mourning in a way I cannot comprehend. Holy Spirit, comfort as only you can. Give hope. Give courage. Give Ella the love she needs. Give us the wisdom and compassion we need to mourn alongside our dear friends. Be our light in this darkness. Intercede with sighs too deep for words. Father God, we cling to you.

The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on rock. Mt 7:24

Uncommon Friends

I was beyond pleased the other day when I noticed on my good friend's blog that I have been listed as an Uncommon Friend. Think of the person you most admire in the world and then imagine them listing you as a friend on their blog and you will know how I feel. The Stavs are my heroes. Their generosity, faithfulness, grace and courage inspire me daily. I got to talk to Stacy today, which made my day. I just love her honesty and encouragement. What fantastic friends. And what an honor to know that they count me as a friend, too.

It's weird writing something like that knowing that they're going to read it. Because maybe it might come across as insincere. But in all sincerity, I love the Stavs. And they ought to know it, so there.

10 Reasons Why Getting Burgled Sucks

1. Your child incessantly asking to watch Lion King and you having to reply that she can't because the mean boy came and took her DVD player. (Perhaps this should also go on the list of reasons why you should never introduce children to tv.)

2. The wasted hours on the phone with the insurance company.

3. The horrible feeling of knowing that you may have to look your neighbor in the eye whilst giving the testimony that may land him in prison for a long time.

4. Equally horrible to have to see his mom knowing that you are putting her son behind bars.

5. Giving statements to the police for 4 1/2 hours in an uncomfortable chair and not being offered tea, coffee, or snacks.

6. Having silver finger-printing dust in various places of your house that annoy you, but not enough to make you just clean it off.

7. Feeling a little unsure of whether you are being watched when you enter your house or walk past a window at night.

8. Having to use an old-fashioned phone with a cord, making it impossible to multi-task whilst having a conversation and nearly impossible to get to the phone in time to answer it.

9. Not knowing whether things that you can't find have been stolen or if you just can't remember where you put them.

10. The general feeling of annoyance I've felt since arriving home from a very wonderful vacation.