Come Ye Disconsolate

Come, ye disconsolate, wherever ye languish,
Come to the mercy seat, fervently kneel.
Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish;
Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal.

Joy of the desolate, light of the straying,
Hope of the penitent, fadeless and pure!
Here speaks the Comforter, tenderly saying,
"Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot cure."

 

Yesterday, out of no where, I woke up singing this song. I even posted it on my FB page because I was unable to get the words "Earth has no sorrows that heaven can not heal" out of my head. I think I now know why this happened...

 

Have you ever had a soulmate? Someone that you can sense and feel even though they are far way from you? I have that type of friendship with someone I met long ago. While we don't communicate much or see each other often, I keep this person in prayer and can sometimes sense when this person is hurting. Yesterday my friend's older brother passed away after fighting a long, difficult battle with cancer. His brother was a believer and I know the family takes comfort in knowing that their loved one is now at peace.

 

While we have that comfort, and while we do not mourn as those who have no hope, we miss the people we love. We grieve that we will not see that person anymore here on earth. No longer can we pick up the phone and hear their voice. And the death of a sibling must be a different loss than the loss of a parent.  It hits closer to home. I mean, this is a person we grew up with -  our very first friend in life - the person that shares our childhood memories. For my friend, losing this brother must be like losing an arm. I have a feeling these two went through a lot growing up together. I'm sure they gave each other security when times were tough. I'm sure they often leaned on each other during difficult times. Death takes away and it hurts.

 

Even Jesus knew this. When His good friend Lazurus died, Jesus wept. But thanks be to God, death, our great enemy, is something we no longer have to fear. Jesus' death paid our penalty for sin, and His resurrection shows us His power over death. Satan can no longer taunt us with the fear of dying. We have the promise that when we die, we go to Christ. Here, we will be restored - no more aches or pains! We will see loved ones again. And best of all, we will live without sin - we will be restored to  fellowship with God, and we will finally see Jesus face to face.

 

And that's why I believe that God placed this song on my heart yesterday. Look at those strong words in the first verse. Disconsolate. Languish. Wounded. Anguish. That's how it feels to lose a loved one. It's a hurt almost beyond what we can bear. But....

 

With God, there is always a "but" - a transition, a change. Now look at the words of the second verse. Joy. Light. Hope.  God takes our wounded heart and brings peace. It really is true that "Earth has no sorrow that heaven can not heal."

 

So, to my dear friend, I share these words - feeble though they be. I pray that God blesses your grieving heart. I pray that you will find comfort and peace because of what Jesus has done for us. My heart is sad, too, knowing what are going through and I keep you in my thoughts and prayers.

https://youtu.be/VmnnMHGvVJc  A version of this song, sung by Roberta Flack

 

                                                                                                                                

 

There Is A Crack In Everything

This is a post written by Ted Cadd and shared by Mary DeMuth in 2013. I'm sure these words will bless someone today that feels broken and defeated. The truth is, we are ALL broken! But God transforms that brokenness and uses it for His glory! *
     http://www.marydemuth.com/there-is-a-crack-in-everything-tedd-cadd/
 I recently read this in The Gifts of Imperfection by Dr. Brené Brown:

There is a line from Leonard Cohen’s song “Anthem” that serves as a reminder to me when I get into that place where I am trying to control everything and make it perfect.

The line is, “There is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.”

So many of us run around spackling all the cracks, trying to make everything look just right. This line helps me remember the beauty of the cracks…

It reminds me that our imperfections are not inadequacies, they are reminders that we’re all in this together. Imperfectly but together.

As I read that, I was reminded of lighthouses. Each lighthouse has a different light pattern and different paint and different design. Each lighthouse protects ships from dangers unique to its specific position. Should the lighthouse want to mimic another light, it puts the ships in its vicinity in danger. So the ships looking for a safe harbor need to see the real light pattern—not the made up one.

Each person’s story will touch lives but only when the story is told authentically.

We don’t find Jesus because of the parts of our lives that are whole. We find him (or, perhaps, he finds us)because of the cracks.

So the Light comes in—if the crack is bigger, even more light gets in. If we buy into the lie that all is made perfect when he comes in—and if we then start patching up the cracks—then others only see the lie and begin patching their cracks.

If I patch up my cracks and you patch yours, we will never find each other. We remain in darkness.

Like the lighthouses, my cracks and another’s are different but there are some similarities. When I tell you I was sexually abused as a child, you already know some things about me that I haven’t said. But our stories are also unique. And each story needs to be heard.

When I finally got so very weary of patching my cracks—especially the big ones—I gave up. “Whatever you want to do, God, is fine with me.”

I expected him to remove my pathetic spackling jobs and I wasn’t disappointed. I was unprepared for the pain he had to inflict to remove the debris.

But instead of bringing a big bucket of Holy Spackle, he began framing each crack for a window. The most painful of all, he is taking all the broken pieces of my childhood–my life, one by one, and fashioning them into works of stained glass art, each window custom fit to a crack.

We are surrounded with darkness in a world run by the Prince of Darkness. If the Light has come in and if we refuse to board up our stained-glass cracks, others can see the beauty of our cracks—each drawn most desperately—violently even—to the colors in in cracks they share with us. That is where hope begins.

If we insist on patching, we are boarding up a cathedral.

How about you? How has God framed your pain to make a stained glass window?

*So, what do you think? Do you, like me, try to cover up the cracks of life? Do you think it's true that when we conceal our cracks, we are actually concealing our unique life story and a chance for Christ to shine through the cracks? Are there things in our past that shouldn't be shared? I ask these questions because of my own personal quest and any input you share will be helpful and useful for me. You see, I am in the process of wanting to write about my story. But revealing cracks is difficult! But my desire to be a stained glass window overrides my fears. I'm at the point in my life where I want His glory to be seen!! If He can use my life in any way so that His glory is radiantly displayed, then He can have it! 

The Broken Way

Hi, friends!  I've been reading from a new book by Ann Voskamp entitled The Broken Way.
For those of you who are not acquainted with Ann, she is a farmer's wife. She is so much more - a mother, an author, a speaker, a woman of God - but in this book, she talks a lot about the brokenness that naturally occurs all around her on the farm.  She often speaks of the brokenness of a seed in order for it to grow. She uses this illustration as she compares the brokenness that occurs in our lives, reminding readers that there is no shame in brokenness. Only in brokenness can healing and restoration and new life begin!  These words that I read today spoke to my heart and I wanted to share them with you:

You're guilty, but not condemned. You're busted up, but believed in.  You're broken, but beloved.  Whatever you are caught in, I make you free. Whatever you're accused of, I hand you pardon.  Whatever you're judged of, I give you release.  Whatever binds you, I have broken.  All sin and shame and quilt and lack I have made into beauty and abundance.

That is the type of unconditional love a sinner receives from Jesus. Not judgment and shame. but rather the profoundly loving words, "Go, and sin no more." Thank you, Jesus!  

Mother's Memorial Service

     Today was New Years Day, 2017. There's something exciting about the start of a new year - sort of like a big, huge, fresh start to life - a chance to do things over, to start again and do it better.

     Two years ago, my sisters, my daughter and I had a front row seat to the ultimate New Years Day.
In the early morning hours of January 1, 2015, we were with my Mother as she quietly took her last breath here on earth.  It was such a peaceful transition for her, and as we stood around her bed, I often wondered what our eyes could not see and our ears could not hear as she was welcomed to her eternal home.  Our vigil was over. We had been nestled in this warm little cacoon of sorts, never leaving our Mother's side, and now it was time to step out into the world. Plans had to be made. People had to be called. Whether we were ready for it or not, life went on.

     One of the things we discussed during our days of waiting was the memorial service.  My sister Karen had asked Mom months earlier if she had anything in place should something like this happen.  Mom refused to go into much detail or answer any specific questions, but she assured my sister that when we needed that information, we would find it.  Well, we went back to her apartment and guess what we never found?  So, we planned a service for her the best we could.  Over the years she had told us her favorite Bible verse and what song she wanted sung. The pastor came over and we all sat down and gave him the best instructions we could, but it sure would have been nice to find and know her specific desires for this important occasion. He left, we were sorting through some of her things, and you guessed it...we found a little planning guide where she put down all of her preferences.  And you know what?  We weren't too far off!  I did see a space for the Eulogy and she wrote "Joyce - Karen - Nancy if possible."  I told my sisters that I would be willing to speak. I had two days to prepare, but nothing came to me. It was the night before the funeral, and I still didn't have anything prepared. Unable to sleep, I went out to Mom's kitchen table and took another look at her planning guide.  I turned to the page that listed her favorite verses and saw one that I had not noticed before. Psalm 34:5 "Those who look to Him are radiant..."   That was it! I knew what I was going to say.
                                                                                  

     
     The whole time Mom was in the hospital and in hospice, she was on her back and my sisters and I noticed something that started to happen. It was as if lying in that on position was taking all her wrinkles from her face and just ironing them away. No kidding!  She looked so beautiful and serene and her skin was....radiant, just like the verse from Psalm 34. And as if to confirm this, so many people at the funeral home said the same thing.  There was no doubt about it. She looked simply radiant!  So all I had to write about was the many ways I had witnessed first hand my Mom having to look to the Lord and rely on Him, especially in the years since my Dad had passed away. Through the struggles of aging hands and legs, she remained tenacious and strong-willed. So often when I wanted to help, she said, "No, I must do this myself!" I shared with her friends how the Holland Home was more than willing to send a wheelchair over and give her a ride to the beauty shop. She enjoyed that little luxury a few times, but once she felt she could walk on her own, she did it on her own. and believe me when I tell you, it was quite a hike to that beauty shop! But she knew it was the only way she would build and maintain her strength. 

     And she was classy. She told me, "Before breakfast, I like to have on my lipstick and earrings."
And she did. Every morning.  One day I asked her if she thought I looked ok just to quickly run out to pick up something from Family Fare. I didn't have any makeup on. She looked at me and said, "Well, I always try to look my best!" She set high standards for herself and for others. And as a result, she kept a clean home...a home where the floors, the closets, the refrigerator, and the stove could all pass a cleaning inspection any day of the week. Also, she was an exceptional cook.  Her leftovers tasted better than most regular meals. Whatever she did, she did her best. Even in her golden years, she rarely sat down. She could always find work to do!

     I then told her friends about her last day. About how much her birthday party meant to her. How much she loved seeing and hearing from each of them on that day, and how she went to bed that evening with a heart so full of love and contentment and peace.

     And finally, I shared the words to a hymn that she loved and that she had hoped we would sing at her service.  She even had made a copy of it and placed it in her planning guide. But since we didn't find the guide in time, this song was not sung. I concluded my little talk with words from that hymn:

                         Be still, my soul, the hour is hastening on
                         When we shall be forever with the Lord.
                         When disappointment, grief and fear are gone,
                         Sorrow forgot, love's purest joys restored.
                         Be still my soul, when change and tears are past,
                         All safe and blessed we shall meet at last.

     That was the most important legacy my Mother left to each of us - the understanding that yes, life is difficult, full of disappointment and pain. But we are promised that those who look to Him for help will be radiant. Joy will be restored. Loved ones will meet again, all because of Christ!