Category Archives: Pain and suffering

December 8, 2023 · 6:01 am

Christmas, Downside

A Lifetime of Christmas Poetry

My mom, Raynette Forister Eitel, passed away in September of 2022, age 85, drifting away into dementia. It was tragic to watch this woman who loved words, who was a poet and teacher, fade away into wordlessness after a lifetime of crafting poetry.

Mom had a tradition of writing a new Christmas poem each year and sending it to friends and relatives. The mailing list grew each year, and people always told us they looked forward to mom’s Christmas poems. She published some in a couple little books. There are too many to post just once a day during the month of December, but I’ll choose some of the best.

Christmas, Downside
by Raynette Eitel

Children are starving in this plum-pudding world
And on this Peace-on-Earth planet,
Wars are raged on men by men.

Christmas lights twinkle
While poor souls search the darkness.

My tinsel days have lost their luster.
I wonder which shepherd or king could have guessed
The innocent Babe would grow up to say,
“Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

Leave a comment

Filed under Christmas, dementia, Pain and suffering, poetry

Tagged as , ,

August 14, 2023 · 6:24 pm

Godly Grief

Sometimes a phrase will pop up in the Bible that takes me by surprise. Though I’ve read it several times through, still I find new things as if I’d never seen them before! This is the beauty of God’s Word, this living text, that inspires and convicts and breathes life into the believer.

Recently I came across the phrase “godly grief,” found in 2 Corinthians chapter 7, also called “godly sorrow” in another version.

We are familiar with grief and sorrow, and those terms are found in scripture. But what is different about godly sorrow, as it is used in the Bible?

First real grief (or sorrow). There is a deep feeling of loss in the death of a loved one, or the loss of one’s health or material goods such as income or property. This is the ache, the emptiness, the yearning, mourning, for what you’ve had.

Job, in the Bible, lost everything: his family, wealth, and health. All he had left was his life, such as it was, and his integrity. We know that he never cursed God for his losses. His quote is familiar to us: when his wife advised him to “curse God and die,” he replied, “Shall we indeed accept good from God and not accept adversity?” (NASB, Job 2:9-10).

And then there is godly sorrow—something I believe is more heart-wrenching, but it is God’s tool which produces great joy in the end.

Paul mentions godly sorrow in 2 Corinthians. In his first letter, he had chastised the church in Corinth for the way they had returned to their previous lifestyles, not displaying their new faith. He set them straight in several areas, sternly and lovingly, as a parent would a wayward teen.

In his next letter, he says that though he regrets causing them sorrow, he does not regret the “godly sorrow” that his letter produced in them. What kind of paradox is this?

Just like a parent who says, “Believe me, you’ll thank me later,” Paul knew that he needed to reprimand them so that they could make changes and become more mature in their faith. This was Paul’s method to bring them to repentance.

“As it is, I rejoice, not because you were grieved, but because you were grieved into repenting. For you felt a godly grief, so that you suffered no loss through us. For godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation without regret, whereas worldly grief produces death” (ESV, 2 Corinthians 7:9-10).

Repentance is God’s gift, one step along His way of saving us. We cannot be saved until we know we need saving. And how do we come to that knowledge? We face our sins, those myriad ways we have fallen short of God’s perfection. Suddenly we see them; the Holy Spirit has laid them all bare to us, in all their ugliness. We realize there is nothing we can do to save ourselves, to make ourselves clean from the sins we have committed.

This is not a “Gee, I’m sorry I got caught” kind of grief. That’s easy to manufacture, and it doesn’t produce true repentance leading to salvation. No, God is gracious to show us how guilty we are, and He mercifully teaches us that there’s no way we can make it better on our own.

My desire for cleanliness, for mercy when I should be declared guilty, comes about because God has granted me the godly sorrow that leads to repentance.

Peter denied Christ three times on the night of His arrest. He had no self-awareness of the fact that he had sinned so blatantly—until a rooster crowed, something Jesus had told him ahead of time: “Truly I say to you that this very night, before a rooster crows, you will deny Me three times.” In self-protection mode, Peter denied Him to anyone who thought they’d seen him with Jesus, and when the rooster crowed, “…he went out and wept bitterly.” It was the remembrance of his vow never to deny Jesus, and Jesus’ prophecy that indeed he would (NASB, Matthew 26:34, 75). Peter was heartbroken that he had sinned by denying Jesus in an attempt to protect his own skin. Imagine how deeply Peter grieved.

Mercifully, upon Jesus’ resurrection, He asked Peter three times, “Do you love me?”  Three times Peter answered that yes, he did. Peter was distressed that Jesus would ask three times, but here Christ showed Peter the sweet grace of forgiveness after his deep, godly sorrow. One declaration of love for each denial Peter had made.

King David took another man’s wife and then arranged to have that man killed in battle. When the prophet Nathan pointed out David’s sin (we refuse to “see” our own sin until God reveals it to us!), David repented: “I have sinned against the Lord” (2 Samuel 12:13). For seven days he fasted, on the ground, in great grief. He penned two Psalms, Chapters 32 and 51, recounting his godly grief, repentance, and forgiveness.

“How blessed,” writes David, “is he whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered! How blessed is the man to whom the Lord does not impute iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no deceit! When I kept silent about my sin, my body wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night Your hand was heavy upon me; my vitality was drained away as with the fever heat of summer. I acknowledged my sin to You, and my iniquity I did not hide; I said, ‘I will confess my transgressions to the Lord;’ and You forgave the guilt of my sin” (Psalm 32:1-5).

How beautiful to see one’s own sin for what it is—a crime against God—and recognize it, and experience first great grief—godly grief—and then the sweet relief of forgiveness when we have repented!

Godly grief, then, is a gift from God, the means He uses to bring us to repentance that leads to salvation.

Leave a comment

Filed under Biblical Worldview, Pain and suffering, Sovereignty of God

Tagged as , ,

July 6, 2023 · 11:15 pm

Strive With Me in Prayer

God’s presence in the midst of your prayers
Part 2, Striving with Me

When writing to the early Christian church in Rome, Paul the apostle has what seems to be a strange request. “Now I urge you, brethren, by our Lord Jesus Christ and by the love of the Spirit, to strive together with me in your prayers to God for me…” (Romans 15:30). Sometimes the Christian life is described as hard, and here it seems even praying is hard work (striving)! What does he mean?

Paul was one of the early missionaries, having traveled throughout much of the Mediterranean region to spread the Gospel. Writing his letter to the Romans while he was in Corinth, he laid out some of his plans. Although he wanted to come to Rome to speak with Christians there, he knew he needed to bring some financial aid to Jerusalem first. Then, he told the Romans, he planned to head to Rome on his way to Spain. However, as we Christians could understand, he knew his plans might not exactly have been God’s plans! And it turns out that though he did make it to Rome, it came about through completely different circumstances.

As the book of Acts describes, when Paul got to Jerusalem, a mob attempted to kill him. The Roman soldiers in Jerusalem, seeing a riot ready to break out, took Paul, bound him in chains, and dragged him away.

Arguing that he was a Roman citizen with rights, Paul was eventually brought to Rome (with many adventures and trials along the way). He didn’t go as a free citizen, but as a prisoner. But Paul was able to preach the Gospel along the way to anyone who would listen—including the soldiers who held him. How many people heard the Gospel who might not have otherwise? How many more directions did the Gospel travel in, as a result of his detours? We will never know, but we do know that Paul didn’t resist; he used his circumstances to preach the Gospel and bring God glory.

Given the dangers he went through after he wrote that letter to the Romans, his small reference to striving in prayer has more significance. Paul knew that though he had plans, God is ultimately in control of all the details, and so he submitted himself to God’s will before all things.

Why did he ask his readers to strive with him in prayer?

Prayer is, above all things, submission to God’s will. Prayer acknowledges God’s sovereignty. Paul submitted his plans and desires to his Lord, and let his Lord take care of the details.  Essentially Paul was saying, “I’m turning my feet in this direction, but I will let You turn them aside however and whenever You want.” Ultimately, Paul says, God’s plans are more important than his own.

Imagine Paul praying. He lays out to God what he wants to do to spread the Gospel. But he knows this is not about Paul; it’s about God. So if God has detours along the way, Paul trusts that God will care for him.

Now imagine how he asked the Romans to pray: strive with me. Do the hard work of praying that nothing gets in the way of God’s plan. Pray that whatever happens, God will accomplish His will. Pray that I can come to you safely, he says, but if not, God will get the glory anyway.

Someone else prayed similarly, back in the Old Testament. In the book of Daniel, when Daniel’s three friends Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego refused to worship another god, their punishment was to be thrown into a fiery furnace. They said to the king, “Our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the furnace of blazing fire; and He will deliver us from out of your hand, O king. But even if He does not, let it be known to you, O king, that we are not going to serve your gods or worship the golden image that you have set up” (Daniel 3:17-18). The three friends trusted God more than some handmade gods, and they were absolutely certain in their trust of Him. They didn’t back down. When they were tossed into the furnace, not only did God spare them, He allowed the onlookers to see the visible presence of another person, perhaps an angel or the pre-incarnate Christ, walking with them in the fire. Walking with them in the fire!

So strive in your prayers to God. Do the hard work of submitting your requests to Him. Be assured that He will answer your prayers, not always in the way you picture it, but His presence will be with you regardless of the outcome. And He will walk with you in the fire.

1 Comment

Filed under Biblical Worldview, Pain and suffering, Prayer, Sovereignty of God

Tagged as , ,

June 23, 2023 · 7:56 pm

Striving in the Christian life

Strive With Me, Part 1 (Part 2 here)

A pastor of mine, years ago, preached that the Christian life is very difficult. That got my attention. Is Christian life impossible?

It’s hard to stand up in a culture that is so antithetical to the message of the Gospel. It’s hard to withstand temptations that bombard us from every direction. It’s hard to overcome past habits and present distractions.

Then we read verses like Luke 13:24: “Strive to enter through the narrow door; for many, I tell you, will seek to enter and will not be able.” What are we to make of that?

That word “strive” means struggle. The Greek word for “striving” gives us the English word “agony.” Well, if that’s what it means to be a Christian, how can I ever manage it? How can I ever work so hard that my striving becomes agony?

I could give up if I were to stop right there. But the Christian was never meant to stop at striving. I could never achieve heaven by striving alone. I could never succeed in my Christian walk with endless struggling.

Late theologian RC Sproul commented on this passage from Luke: “What Jesus is saying is that there must be passion, real effort in striving, not that human effort would ever get anybody into the kingdom of God, but the person who has been quickened by the Holy Spirit, who has caught a glimpse of the reality of Jesus, must make the seeking of the kingdom of God the main business of his life” (A Walk with God: An Exposition of Luke). The element of most importance here is the Holy Spirit.

We sometimes forget that the Christian walk is not a solitary one. I mean that in two important senses.

First, and foremost, before He suffered on the cross, died, and rose again, Jesus made a promise. He would not leave His followers alone. “These things I have spoken to you while I am still with you,” He says in John 14:25-27, “But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, He will teach you all things and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you. Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.”

The Holy Spirit is the power of the Gospel living inside each believer!

Second, the Christian walk was meant to be lived alongside other Christians. The walk was never meant to be solitary.

If you are discouraged in your faith, if you are a new Christian just trying to figure it out, if you’ve been one for a long time and find yourself running low on energy, answer these questions:

Are you part of a fellowship of Bible-believing Christians? Do you study the Word with other believers? Are you looking one another in the eye and holding one another accountable?

You can’t do that if you’re still watching church services online. You can’t if you are only reading blogs about Christian living either!

You need to be walking side by side with other believers. Praying with them. Studying with them. Worshipping with them.

Many examples from the New Testament support this. In Acts chapter 2 believers “devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.” The book of Acts describes many times the early believers—the early Church—had gathered together to hear preaching, to worship, and have fellowship with one another.

Paul tells believers in Ephesians 5:15-21, “Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of the time, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is. And do not get drunk with wine, for that is debauchery, but be filled with the Spirit, addressing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody to the Lord with your heart, giving thanks always and for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, submitting to one another out of reverence for Christ.”

When you isolate, you will begin to doubt. You’ll get discouraged. You aren’t giving others the opportunity to know you, to love and encourage you, to hold you accountable to the faith that you profess. And you will miss out on the opportunity to build meaningful relationships with other believers. You have no idea of the riches you will miss out on by NOT getting involved!

So Christian, if you are discouraged by trying—striving—to be a Christian in an un-Christian world, stop striving alone! Realize that the Holy Spirit is with you to encourage you and give you peace. And know that a Bible-preaching church is where you need to have the fellowship with other believers who will help to build you up in the faith. You’ll find other people who, just like you, find life challenging, and who know that there is power in the Holy Spirit.

If you’re struggling to find a Bible-preaching church, you can start at 9marks.org for churches in your area.

1 Comment

Filed under Biblical Worldview, Pain and suffering, Prayer, Sovereignty of God

Tagged as

June 18, 2023 · 9:36 pm

But what about my doubts?

Faith in a world full of questions

It’s easy to know what you believe when everything is going well. When the sky is blue, and your pantry is full, and you have a job to go to tomorrow.

But then there are the dark days of doubt. When what you believed you understood last week, you’re not sure about this week. When one thing after another goes wrong. When it’s hard just to get up every morning. What about then?

The answers don’t always come easily, and they aren’t always easy to accept. But if you are a Christian, if you believe that there is a God whose truth is universal and unequivocal, then the answers are there, within your grasp.

And if you’re wondering if there is truth you can always rely on; if you’re wondering if there’s something better, something bigger than yourself, you need to ask yourself one thing: What do I know to be true?

Truth is, there is a God. He is the one true God, the all-powerful Creator of heaven and earth. Truth is, He holds the answers to every deep, philosophical, existential question ever pondered. Whether you believe Him or not, this is the truth.

Now, for those dark days. Because He is the author of life, nothing in this world surprises Him.

God knows your doubts, and where they come from. And He wants you to rehearse to yourself those truths that comprise the Gospel. (If you’re not a Christian, hang on–you might just find what you’ve been missing!)

Here they are: Sin exists. It’s real. And each of us struggles with sin every day. Sin misses the mark of what God requires. And there is a consequence of sin: eternal death, for which there is no release, no hope of a do-over.

BUT.

But there is one person who never sinned, who walked this earth, and who defeated the evil in this world. And because He never sinned, because He preached good news that had been promised from the beginning of time, his enemies put Him to death. That man is Jesus.

And that man who died, who was buried, He rose to life again, conquering death. He ascended into heaven and sits at the right hand of God the Father.

What does that have to do with you? That essential truth is everything. Hang on to that truth, because it means eternal life to you. It means that though you die, you will be raised again to live eternally with Jesus in heaven.

And here’s that BUT: But what if I don’t feel it? What about the terrible things that are going on in my life? What about the worries I have, that are very real, that don’t seem to go away? What about that deep hole I dug for myself, that I just can’t seem to climb out of?

God has the answer:

BUT GOD.

Here’s what He says in His Word, the Bible, in the book of Ephesians, chapter 2: “But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which He loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ–by grace you have been saved–and raised us up with Him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages He might show the immeasurable riches of His grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.”

If you’ve already believed that, hang on to it. It’s the one truth that never dies. Believe that God sees what you’re going through, sees the doubts that you have, sees the darkness threatening to overtake you. What’s more, He doesn’t tell you to hang on for dear life because you might slip and fall.

Instead, He tells you this: “I give them [my own–my sheep, He calls us] eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand” (John 10:28). His sheep are precious to Him, and He guarantees that once they believe, they will never get left behind.

But what if I don’t feel it? But what if I have too many terrible things in my past? But…?

But God.

1 Comment

Filed under Biblical Worldview, Pain and suffering, Sovereignty of God

Tagged as ,

April 29, 2021 · 11:08 pm

The Magnificent City

[Note: I wrote this many years ago, and very recently a friend asked for a copy. I had thought it was lost, but this friend managed to dig one up. I hope this story blesses you.]

© 1992 Shaunna Howat

There she was finally, in God’s presence, where she had wanted to be for so long. There was no need for sunshine, because all the light they needed radiated from God the Father.

She was clothed in a splendid white gown made of cool, silky rich cloth she had never felt before. Looking about her, she saw that everyone was dressed the same. They all glowed in their garments. Just how she imagined them to look.

She watched them as they stood or sat in small groups, talking, relaxed. They would laugh quietly at something shared intimately, all at ease with one another. Old friends, long departed, now reunited.

She had been told to wait where she was; there would be an Escort meeting her.

How she got to this place she couldn’t exactly remember. Most of the people with whom she had spoken here didn’t really remember their own deaths much either. Or they just didn’t need to talk about it. They had all died, hadn’t they? Nothing remarkable in that.

When she had first arrived, she was given a tour of the Magnificent City. Mansions of precious stones lined streets of gold. Marble, rose quartz, aquamarine, ruby, diamond, emerald—all the beautiful stones on earth, plus more she had never seen before. The mansions were huge, immaculate, with perfect gardens lovingly tended by numerous white-clad individuals.

She entered the Great Palace, an enormous structure the likes of which she remembered seeing before in pictures. The Temple in Jerusalem, she decided, must have looked much like this. Entering the Holy of Holies, the most central room, she looked out upon vast legions of saints like herself, all bowing before the throne of the Most High God. Angels flew up, around, and back, singing “Holy Holy Holy is the Lord God Almighty.” The train of His robe filled the temple.

At the right hand of the Lord God sat His Son, brilliant in glory.

Then she had the chance to do what she had longed to do most of her life: She fell at the Lord’s feet to worship Him face to face. She dropped to her knees on the golden floor, tears of joy streaming down, and marveled at the look of pleasure on His beautiful face.

Countless others worshipped all around, singing joyously with the angels. Strains of music poured forth from a choir of golden voices, an orchestra of unearthly instruments.

“Welcome, my daughter,” He said. To her! “I have been waiting for you. You have a room reserved here. Your name is written in the Book of Life.”

She never tired of being on her knees in that splendid room. It seemed like years went by as she knelt at His feet, listening to Him speak, drinking in His glory. Then she realized that time had no meaning while she drank in the blessings and sang praises to her Lord. She never wanted to leave.

After a while, her Escort took her outside and told her she could return to worship any time she wished. She followed him to a mansion where large golden books lay open on tables. Their leaves shone with a heavenly light and spoke softly to their readers as, wonderingly, they each turned pages to hear more.

Going to a book, she stood amazed to find it speaking to her!

“Welcome, daughter, my chosen one,” it said. “You have been brought to this place because of your undying faith, because I called you and you believed in Me; because you held fast to your faith and I held you in the palm of My hand. You have wondered why so many times—why there was so much suffering in the world, why friends and family were taken from you, why the world is the way it is.”

She turned another illuminated page and listened as it spoke to her.

“Now you may spend time finding out the answers to all you have wondered and more. Understand how the earth was formed by My hand. Watch Jesus as He was brought to life again. Learn the answers to all the questions you have ever asked, to which there seemed to be no answer. Watch, daughter, and listen, to all the glorious, perfect answers. Then you will know.”

Tears of joy, of understanding, of thankfulness flowed, as she read endlessly, watching and learning. She didn’t want to stop. She had spent her years on earth asking, wondering, wishing she knew the answers to all of life’s questions—and here they were for her.

“At this time,” the book said softly, “you wondered why your father was taken from you. And here is the reason.”

And on yet another page she read, “At this time your heart ached because you lost your child in the womb. And here is why.”

The answers were so clear to her! On earth she had held fast to her faith that God, in His infinite wisdom, had reasons for everything that occurred in the world, and that God’s ways would be made clear to her in His time. And here, in her own book, were the answers.

Finally, her heart content with all she had ever wanted to know (and strangely aware that all of life’s mysteries really did not matter much after all, compared to where she stood right now), she was ready to move on.

She was ushered into a Banquet Hall where the others gathered to feast. There she found family and friends who had gone before her. Their appearances were different from what she had remembered, but they were still the same people she had known on earth. And though they were different, they were also the same.

Her earthly father, whom she had not known since she was a child, was the same smiling, tender man she remembered, only he was different. There was a countenance of peace upon him that had not been there. And the suffering body she had known in his last days was transformed to perfect, unageing health and clad in a pure white gown.

What a marvelous time all her friends and family had in the Banquet Room! They had no trouble getting to know each other again, sharing memories and talking about the Glory of the Lord.

She wondered aloud when she could once again sit at her Heavenly Father’s feet and worship Him. They all smiled and nodded knowingly at each other. It was the favorite pastime of all who lived in the Magnificent City. When they were away from Him, they hungered to return.

“You can worship whenever you like. That’s the beauty of this place. We like to worship regularly. We spend our moments in worship and fellowship. There is no measure of time here; all our moments are like grains of sand in a limitless hourglass.”

So her days were spent just as she liked: she walked down golden streets with her loved ones, worshipped the Lord, and marveled at His wondrous works. To worship endlessly at His feet was all they desired. Banquets of beautiful food were set before them, and they broke bread together in fellowship.

Soon she was made aware that others around her had tasks they were delighted to perform. Gardening, singing, playing beautiful instruments, preparing food for others to enjoy. Some escorted new arrivals. As soon as she became aware of these tasks, her Escort appeared beside her.

“Your job is at hand,” said her Escort, whom she had learned to find at her elbow just when she had a question that needed an answer.

“What is my job?”

She was so eager to perform a task for the Father that it seemed impossible she had spent so much time in the Magnificent City not doing anything for Him.

“Do not worry; everyone is expected to spend a large amount of time adjusting before beginning their tasks. Yours is now at hand. It was designed for you because of your deep compassion on earth for the little ones.”

She followed him to a mansion and through doors of precious jewels. They paused in a hallway before an enormous door of pearl.

“Inside awaits your task,” he said with a secretive smile.

She could hear the sound of bubbling laughter coming from the other side of the door. The sound that had always melted her heart: the chortling, breathless belly laughs of her own children and grandchildren. She smiled just remembering their laughter, almost wanting to return to that time.

Her escort pushed open the door and stood back to let her see. The room, bigger than nearly every room she’d seen in this Magnificent City, stretched as far as she could see. It was filled with babies.

Babies of all sizes and colors. Beautiful, happy, chubby babies held in the arms of loving men and women in rocking chairs. Babies crawling after sparkling, tinkling, golden balls on floors as soft as cotton. Babies nursed by mothers who sang heavenly lullabies as their infants drifted off to sleep.

Millions of babies.

“This, too, is reserved for you,” said her Escort. He indicated a baby who crawled up to her, sat unsteadily on her fat little bottom, and lifted her arms up to be held.

Tears flowed down her face as she stooped to pick up the dark-eyed baby. The infant laughed delightedly and clapped her dimpled hands.

“He knows, doesn’t He, just what I love?” She whispered into ringlets of hair at the nape of the baby’s neck.

“Yes,” answered her Escort. “This task was reserved for you and for all who love babies. And for all those who fought and prayed and argued and marched against the scourge of the earth, the devastation that killed millions of babies before they could be born. This room is filled with those babies.

“They need so much love and tenderness, because many were rejected before they took their first breath. They need patience and encouragement, because their earthly parents had no room for them in their busy lives. They need soothing lullabies and soft beds because they knew violence before they could see the light of day.

“Come and go as you wish. Worship whenever you like, and feast with your departed friends and family as often as you want. Your task will always be here waiting for you. These babies will always need you, and there will always be more.”

He turned to go.

“Wait!” She remembered a question that she had not asked before.

He knew the answer before she could form the question.

“The child you lost in your womb is in your arms now.”

She gasped and looked into now-familiar eyes, the same laughing, chocolate-brown eyes as those of her other children.

Her Escort smiled with pleasure as the secret was revealed. How he loved his job!

“Yes, she has been waiting for you. Waiting for you with confidence, for you to hold her and love her, too.”

“But you said this room is full of—”

“All babies who do not have a chance to be born come to this room to wait. All babies.”

He turned to go. “I must return to my tasks.” And he disappeared.

Her time was spent joyously. As she rocked sweet-smelling babies to sleep in the golden room of downy-soft floors and pearled walls, she looked forward to worship. After her hours of adoration at the Father’s feet, she reveled in time spent with family and friends in the Banquet Hall.

Angels who traveled from the City to the earth to bring messages to the faithful, to guard the believers, would return and share their stories. She was surprised that, as it seemed years had gone by for her in her deep enjoyment of the Magnificent City, only a day or two had gone by since she had departed from earth.


Time began to matter even less to her as she immersed herself in long worship sessions, endless family reunions, and armloads of babies who never seemed to get enough cuddling. Her task, her worship, and fellowship kept her busy, just as she loved to be.

One day as she left the Worship Hall, headed for a banquet, her Escort appeared at her elbow.

“You need to know that your dear friend is arriving shortly.”

“She is? How delightful!” Her friend’s face came to mind, a loving memory of one of the dearest friends she had had on earth. She remembered how they had been mothers together, raising their children to know and love the Lord, and wondering if they were doing the right things for their children.

She remembered how they longed to sit together on cold winter days before a fire with hot cups of tea, just to chat, and were never able to because they were so busy raising children.

They had spent time together with their husbands, the four of them, sharing dinners and evenings out, worshipping together in church.

Then, as they got older and their children moved away, they had had more time to spend together, just enjoying each other’s company. Children and grandchildren came and went, playing across their floors, and they grew old through winters by the fire and summers under shade trees.

Suddenly she longed to see her friend again and spend long days showing her the glory of the Magnificent City!

“I am her Escort, too, you know.” He smiled broadly. “I escort kindred spirits, and the Lord foreknew you to be kindred spirits of the first degree. You loved and worshipped the Father together with all your souls. You cried and laughed together in the raising of your families and in the loving of your husbands. You prayed fervently. You fought the battle valiantly. And she is coming to find her reward, just as you have before her.”

“You don’t know how pleased I will be to see her again!”

“Yes, I do.” And he disappeared.

Upon reaching the Magnificent City, her friend spent such a glorious time at the Lord’s feet, and in reading her golden book. And she, watching her newly-arrived friend, enjoyed seeing her happily reuniting with friends and family who had come to the Magnificent City before her.

“Now it’s your turn,” whispered a voice at her elbow. Her Escort nudged her forward, and then they saw each other.

With a little sigh of recognition, her friend called her name. “I knew I would find you here!”

There were hugs, and happy tears, and laughter as they reunited. Linking arms, they walked the streets of the Magnificent City, she telling her friend all about each mansion.

They worshipped together again, smiling as they remembered the countless times they had agonized over their families and how they were being raised. Now they knew how the Father’s Hand had worked in their lives, and they were comforted to know that He had superintended every moment, all according to His perfect plan. Not even the mistakes and messes could change God’s plan.

One quiet day in the Babies’ Room, the door was pushed open and their Escort stood, her friend by his side. She watched from her rocking chair, and he winked at her knowingly as her friend stopped to pick up a fair-haired child whose arms were raised up to her.

She could not hear what he said, but she knew. She watched her friend take in the room full of babies as their Escort explained. The task fit her so perfectly.

She knew, too, in the gasp of recognition as her friend looked at the child in her arms. She knew as she watched a soft, cushioned rocking chair appear next to her own, and their Escort pointed it out to her. As her friend made her way over to where she sat, she saw tears of joy and knew again the familiar, aching desire to rock a child so long departed from her.

Cups of tea appeared nearby, and they sat thus, rocking bundles of warm, cuddly babies, chatting, and laughing.

Leave a comment

Filed under Pain and suffering, Parenting, Uncategorized

March 5, 2021 · 8:53 pm

Resting on a Promise

For the believer, a state of rest comes not from an emotional high or low. Rest is a quieting of the mind. In the midst of a pandemic, in uncertain times, when we aren’t certain about the world around us, can “rest” be found?

 

Christian, rest comes from knowing that your future is certain. Of course we do not “know the future,” like a fortune-teller claims to do. Instead, we look beyond our present situation, beyond the uncertainty of what the next few days, months, and years will hold, to eternity. That rest is a promise, a confidence, a contentedness, for today.

 

“Rest” can be a time or place of refuge or safety, shelter in the eye of a storm, in the midst of a hectic time, or at the end of a crazy day. A mental state—the ability to remain calm while everything else around you is a jumbled mess. Peace when you’ve lost a job or a family member. A quiet heart when you feel so alone.

 

What if you can’t attain that calm place of rest? Christian, I’ve been there too. The answer isn’t to do more or try harder, as Michael Horton calls the endless striving in his book Christless Christianity.

 

First, last, and always, go back to what you know to be true.

 

Christian, the one source of truth is the Gospel. It is found in God, through His Holy Spirit, and guaranteed by the Lord Jesus Christ. I–and all believers–need to remind ourselves of the Gospel every day. Here’s the Gospel—the truth and the promise:

“Remember that you were [once] separated from Christ, … having no hope and without God in the world. But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. For he himself is our peace…. And he came and preached peace to you who were far off and peace to those who were near. For through him we both have access in one Spirit to the Father. So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus himself being the cornerstone, in whom the whole structure, being joined together, grows into a holy temple in the Lord. In Him you also are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit” (ESV Ephesians 2:12-22).

 

This is the promise for rest and peace, a peace that is soul-deep. More than I rely on myself, my family, my friends, I trust the promises of God: “It is the Lord who goes before you. He will be with you; He will not leave you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed” (Deuteronomy 81:8).

 

Remember the promises of God to help you in the midst of trouble, when you’re not sure who your friends are, why you are so sick, things are going so badly, or when it will all end. Remember how Psalm 27 opens, written by someone who had seen his fair share of turmoil:

“The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid? When evildoers assail me to eat up my flesh, my adversaries and foes, it is they who will stumble and fall. Though an army encamp against me, my heart shall not fear; though war arise against me, yet I will be confident ” (Psalm 27:1-3).

Do not fear. Remember Who is greater than all your troubles. Rest.

 

Leave a comment

Filed under Biblical Worldview, Pain and suffering, Uncategorized

March 1, 2021 · 12:02 am

Pursue Peace

In 1776 the British pastor Augustus Toplady penned a familiar hymn called “Rock of Ages,” a beautiful statement of his assurance of faith.

This assurance, this confidence gives him a sense of peace, a sense of rest.

Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee;
Let the water and the blood,
From Thy wounded side which flowed,
Be of sin the double cure,
Save from wrath and make me pure.

The world is full of trouble. Dangers lurk everywhere, as we saw especially in the year 2020. We didn’t know how bad the pandemic would become; we couldn’t believe the destruction we saw in the streets of many cities. We wondered whose business would fail next, who would lose their jobs.

We worried, we fretted. We lived day to day, week to week, in a sort of daze. What could possibly happen next? Can it get much worse? Is this the new normal?

As much as we’d like, we can’t see the answers to such questions. But there is a comfort in the midst of the heavy, haunting weight of anxiety and unrest.

Think of worries as twofold: the temporal—what is happening in the present time or the immediate future, and eternal—where this is all heading at the end of days.

To some measure, we are able to affect our temporal worries, soothe them, perhaps change them, or try to manage them. But those eternal worries—who can know? This is the question that every generation has tried to answer. Whole religions have been invented trying to answer them. How can we know for sure?

History from all over the world tells of people who claimed to have the answers to all that troubles us. They begged wise men to impart some truth, something they could hang onto. Imposters every day invent new schemes to gain followers, enriching themselves and plunging poor souls into debt and depths of despair.

The prosperity gospel, for example, promises your best life now, but it ignores the truth that regardless of how much we pray against it, hard times do come. It ignores the truth that Jesus promised: “In this life you will have tribulation, but take heart; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33).

The promises from man-made religions might make you feel okay for awhile, but eventually the nagging worry creeps back in.

That’s because the answers are only skin-deep, and they leave you feeling dissatisfied. Ultimately all the pretense cannot bear up under the weight of uncertainty, and you are back where you started.

But one God, the true God of Heaven, Creator of the universe, offers the only answers that hold up under scrutiny, answers that soothe the soul and offer a deep sense of peace and rest. Promises that are not empty, because Jesus has guaranteed them with His own life, which He laid down. And then, to seal the promise, He came back from the dead.

Not the labor of my hands
Can fulfill Thy law’s demands;
Could my zeal no respite know,
Could my tears forever flow,
All for sin could not atone;
Thou must save, and Thou alone.

Peace, comfort, and rest come from this assurance: the God of the universe is my shelter. Knowing that the almighty, all-powerful God cares for individual souls like mine. Knowing that there’s nothing I can do—not the labor of my hands, but simply trust.

Trust in God’s grace, given to those of us who recognize how sinful we are. Realize there is nothing we can do to save ourselves from the deadly consequences of those sins, and repent: ask for and receive the cleansing power poured out for us at the cross by Jesus Christ.

In this I have confidence, comfort, and contentment, and I know God will never leave me nor forsake me.

My worries, my doubts, my fears can plunge me into despair if I don’t stop and remind myself: What do I know to be true?

Emotions can cause me to doubt, cause me to run, and when they try to take over, I have learned to ask myself that question.

What do I know to be true?

The answer is the Rock I cling to, the Rock in whose cleft I can hide my face, my shelter in the storm. The answer is that God is the one true source of peace and rest, even when the heaviest burdens weigh me down.

What do I know to be true? What about when things are at their worse and I can’t stand on my own? I must remember—and Christian, you must also remember—that you have been saved by the grace of God, and not the work of your hands. This is what you retell yourself when everything around you seems to be crumbling.

Nothing in my hand I bring,
Simply to Thy cross I cling;
Naked, come to Thee for dress;
Helpless, look to Thee for grace;
Foul, I to the fountain fly;
Wash me, Savior, or I die.

While I draw this fleeting breath,
When my eyes shall close in death,
When I rise to worlds unknown,
And behold Thee on Thy throne,
Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee.

Let me hide myself in Thee. I cannot save myself. Wash me, Savior, or I die.

1 Comment

Filed under Biblical Worldview, Pain and suffering, Uncategorized

Tagged as , ,

December 6, 2017 · 11:27 pm

Great Expectations, adjusted

A mom asked me for help in what to do for her child, who was going to be out of class for the next two months due to some radical chemo treatments. Her young teenager has cancer. This wasn’t the first mom I’d met with a child in need of special treatment.

And in such cases I have to talk to mom and dad about adjusting their–and their child’s–expectations. There is no hard-and-fast rule out there for dealing with interrupted plans. The typical plan for a high school load each year wouldn’t work for this atypical situation. No rule says that at age 18 a child should graduate from high school and head off to university. Not every child fits that stereotype. This mom, and others like her, must adjust other circumstances in order to accommodate the family’s present needs.

Cases like this rise up often as I advise parents about educating their children. The whole child needs to be considered, I tell them, not just the amount and type of classes he is going to take each year. The family whose father just passed away: how does mom homeschool the children and find a job to support her family? The international move because of dad’s job: how can we consistently educate the children while we all adjust to a new living arrangement? And on and on the stories come.

Our great expectations continually need adjusting–the expectations of what my life will look like, of what my children will grow up to become, of good health all the way through my life, and more. What happens when the bottom drops out of my great expectations and I am left to reconsider everything?

What do I do when life hands me something other than what I had planned all along? What do I do with that disappointment?

compassion

A friend whose daughter began exhibiting signs of a mental illness wept. “This isn’t something her brothers and sisters should have to watch. They have the right to be normal teenagers, and not have to deal with their little sister unravelling in front of them.”

A family member who discovered her husband’s unfaithfulness after 35 years of marriage lamented that this shouldn’t happen to her after all they had been through together.

The mom–and many like her–with a daughter in chemotherapy wept as she and her family struggled to adjust to the heartache, the fear, the whirlwind that has been visited upon them.

As much as I weep with these friends and family members–and also in my own quest of adjusting to a life with chronic pain–I want to remind them that “normal” doesn’t exist.

And who can say that family members shouldn’t have to live with a sibling whose world has unraveled due to mental illness or life-altering illness? In God’s economy, nothing is wasted. He uses all things for good, for those who love him and who have been called according to his purpose (Romans 8:28-29). Living with someone’s illness can teach countless lessons in empathy, compassion, caregiving, unconditional love, and much, much more. The illness of a loved one is not a surprise to God; he will use it for his purposes and for his glory!

While it’s difficult, and maybe even feels insurmountable, I’ve found that I must adjust my thinking about expectations, looking more realistically about what “normal” means. In reality, we know that life is full of disappointment, tragedy, and challenge. Maybe that’s what’s “normal.”

Christian believers have been promised that life will be full of troubles. But–and here’s the most important BUT–we’ve also been promised that Christ will be with us nevertheless. Christ promises us, “I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33).

Being visited by tragedy, challenge, disaster, or just run-of-the-mill teenage rebellion doesn’t mean the end for your family. It means that this is another opportunity to place your faith, your trust, in a God who will never leave nor forsake you (Hebrews 13:5).

1 Comment

Filed under Biblical Worldview, Health, Pain and suffering

February 23, 2016 · 2:27 pm

I didn’t need another dad

Jim2aI didn’t need another dad. My dad died when I was 15, and I mourned that loss for years. By the time I was in college, I was doing okay–at least I said so to anyone who asked–and didn’t want another dad. One stepdad had moved in and then out of our lives, and it wasn’t the best experience for anyone concerned. That confirmed that I had been right: I didn’t need another dad.

Married, done with college, another stepdad entered the scene, and I was determined not to like his imposition into our family. But I saw how much he loved my mom, and how he took my teenage sister under his wing. She really needed a firm hand during her rebellious years, and he did a great job. He might be okay for them, I decided. But me, I’m out of the picture.

A couple more years went by, and I was pregnant with our first child. Suddenly, with pre-term labor at 30 weeks, I was on bed rest. And the stepdad (who I didn’t need) came to stay with us, to bring me lunch as I lay like a beached whale on the couch. He painted, set up the baby’s room, puttered around in the yard, and made sure I had plenty to eat and drink. I could see how well he might fit into our family.

Then when our son was born, there was Jim, video camera rolling, as proud as if our son was his very own flesh and blood. And as each child was born, there he was again, beaming. He’d already had his own grandchildren, but he was pretty thrilled with the crop of step-grandchildren he was getting from my sisters and me. So maybe he was going to fit in pretty well.

We moved a lot as a young family, and there were my mom and step dad, visiting, playing with the children. Jim and my husband undertook several remodeling projects wherever we lived. He brought a crowbar and hammer and loved every minute. And my husband felt pretty sure he could use a father-in-law like that.

High school and college graduations, and a wedding in our family, would find Jim beaming again, photographing every minute, the happiest grandpa in the room.

Thirty years later, we all gathered to wish Jim a happy 90th birthday. And suddenly I realized that I had needed a dad all along. He had been there, with a hug and a kiss, ready for adventure with the kids, for remodeling with my husband, for a raucous game of cards every evening, with a strong shoulder to lean on in joy or pain. He had been there all along, strong and steady.

He had been the only grandpa our children remembered. He had been the dad my teenage sister needed, and he did it well. He had been a dad to my older sister and me, in ways we didn’t anticipate. He was a father-in-law to Kyle, who loved thinking through home improvement projects while wandering with him through the Home Depot. He’d been our dad.

And on his 90th birthday, with all the family gathered together, we found that we were losing him. He was slipping away. I was able to tell him how much he meant to me, to my husband, to our children, and to thank him for every loving thing he did for us. We were thankful that he heard us and responded with a hug, a hand squeeze, a little pat on the arm. We moved him into hospice at home and said goodbye to him, one child and grandchild at a time. What a miraculous gift, that most of us could gather together at the right moment.

I realized why I hadn’t wanted another dad. The pain of losing my own father was so great, it left a huge hole in my heart. No attachment to another dad meant no more great holes in my heart. But Jim snuck in there anyway. And I realized, in spite of myself, that the memory of all those loving years was even worth this sharp, momentary pain of loss right now. We are all the more rich now, because he was our dad. Our grandpa and father-in-law. Mom’s husband.

I love you, Jim. Thanks for being my dad.

James Eitel: husband, father, stepfather, grandpa. 1926-2016

3 Comments

Filed under Pain and suffering, Parenting, Uncategorized