Thoughts on Death

It's been a really weird, long season in my life of different aspects of pain and death being very relevant to me. Don't take this wrong, I haven't been contemplating suicide. But don't take it lightly either, I feel like my soul has occasionally been overshadowed by the passing of death, and it's changed me. This late spring and summer, just as I've felt that I have been emerging from a difficult personal season, I have suddenly been bombarded by a really disproportionate number of people that I know, or am connected to, dying, facing death, or dealing with some serious trauma. I guess this happens to everyone at some point in their life, but 29 seems like a little young for that, right? The odd thing is, rather than feeling utterly discouraged, I feel like seeing all this has served to bring some cohesion to my new understanding of what it means to live in this world. This world is beautiful in the sense that it is God's creation and imbued with his goodness. But it is also deeply, tragically, mortally broken. When I was young I walked through the world thinking that as long as we followed God and obeyed him, things would and did usually work out well. I'm not sure what evidence I was looking at, but I fooled myself pretty good. I do not deny now that following God's ways often brings blessings and peace, but neither do I doubt that simply abiding in this world brings death, tragedy and sorrow. And for reasons we may or may not understand and/or be able to come to terms with, God sometimes doesn't stop it. He allows suffering. Pain. Grief. Death. He allows rapists to go on raping and bigotry to continue unabated. He allows cancer to steal some of his most beautiful sons and daughters from this world at a young age. But there are some conclusions that I came to in my own pain that give me some perspective in all this. First, Jesus came. And He died. And he rose again. Let me be careful in how I apply this because I know that in the deep deep agony of grief and isolation, Jesus crucifixion and resulting salvation of the world can seem too abstract to be of comfort. But here is the point. What kind of love does it take for Jesus to do that? What kind of intense devotion to our life and well-being could bring God to do something like that? He loves us. He really really really cares. Whatever reason he has for allowing the world to keep turning in it's broken state, it is NOT because he doesn't love us. He loves you. He loves the one you lost. Second, can we all stop pretending that the world is OK on a daily basis? We act like something wholly unexpected and unprecedented has happened when we are hurt, when people are killed. Death has entered the world, friends. We will all face it- some in more tragic ways than others. But there is no time in which it is not profoundly painful to lose someone we love to death. It is our reminder that something is seriously wrong in this life. If you are not comfortable with this idea... no, comfortable is definitely the wrong word. If you have not given thought to this truth and prepared yourself spiritually as well as you can by leaning and holding and clinging onto the Lord, by seeking and seeking him while he may be found and desiring to understand the implications of this life and his calling, you WILL be caught off guard. I urge you, if you haven't experienced tragedy or deep suffering yet, consider finding someone who has, and be a listening ear. Not only will a gentle presence be appreciated, but you may gain some of that wisdom without having to go through the same suffering yourself. Third, there's hope. There are joys in this life that we haven't yet tasted, and those pale in comparison to those awaiting us in heaven. Just hang in there. There are moments when it's all we can do to just keep the infinite broken pieces of ourselves from flying apart in different directions. Just remember that's a victory. Sometimes courage is waking up and washing your face and eating breakfast. Don't let yourself be alone in your pain. Keep reaching out to those that seem like they could be a kindred spirit. Sometimes we forget other people have a story too. Every season of suffering has an end. And don't give up on God even if you're so angry at him you can't pray. Just do what you can. HE is faithful. He will help you. (Note: Some of the ideas in this post originate from the book "Walking With God Through Pain and Suffering" by Timothy Keller.)

OK, I'll do it

So here it is, I'm going to start blogging... a little. When I feel like it and have time. Sometimes I just need to get a thought out and feel like someone out there might see it, so here it is.

In order to simplify, comparison has to go

Comparison. This word used to be my friend in 11th grade English. Now it just gives me the willies. And understandably so- while comparison can be a useful tool in dissecting literary classics, it can lead us to want to break pretty much every one of the ten commandments when applied to our neighbor’s (friend’s/boss’/cousin’s/sibling’s) life. One of my favorites is intellectual comparison. Not in the “I’m smarter than you” sense, but in the “I’ve actualized my intellectual potential by going to grad school, and getting an awesome position in my chosen field. Now I’m climbing the career ladder and getting a sweet paycheck, all while using my growing skills to make the world a better place.” Meanwhile, I’m sitting at home watching my brilliant, funny, amazing almost-2-year-old create huge messes for me to clean up after. Most days I don’t think about it, but then I’ll pull up an old friend’s facebook profile or something and *wham*. “What are you doing with your life?” the voices suddenly ask. “Look at all that wasted potential, you could be doing something really important, and where are you? When you get to the end of all this, you’re going to be sorry you wasted so much time… let so many opportunities slip by… didn’t MAKE IT HAPPEN FOR YOURSELF!” Okay, take a deep breath. I chose this, I have to remind myself. I’m doing this because it’s something I believe in, that these few years of sacrificing pretty much everything else are worth the immense value of the impact they will have on my son’s entire life. That he will know deeply and fully that he is loved and worthy. That he will have the profound benefit of believing that he is worth someone’s time and undivided attention. And I can thank God that I have the choice to do this because he’s provided my husband with a job that pays enough for us to get by. But there’s something more. I’ve learned through experience and intuition (aka the HS) that I’m not cut out to do everything at once. Maybe some people can (or maybe they’re just pretending), but when I try to do it all, I start to fall apart. My heart can’t stretch that many ways at once, and it starts getting pulled away from the things I need to be connected to in order to survive and be me. Yes, God, I want to live in the grace you’ve given me for my life. I don’t need to envy or condemn my neighbor for doing less or more- how can I know what grace you’ve given them? Let me celebrate the way you are calling me to live, and be open to new steps and challenges, but not condemn myself for going at the pace of peace for me.