Eternity

Sorry. I hope the title didn’t put you off. The focus of one in my shoes is a process. Even I have lots to do and much to pay attention to here on the planet. I still can fold and put away laundry. I make meals. I do a little shopping (although the big Winco runs may be a thing of they past…..aerobic grocery getting.) I sip coffee with friends. I tote the compost down to the swamp (while sniffing the apple-scented air.) I get the mail, relishing the cards filled with kind words you all send. Living. I like it. Even with all of Earth’s sadness and such, I know that if Heaven is better than Earth, it must be awesome, because I really like Earth.

As I think about leaving Earth early, I live a day at a time, but with an occasional peek around the bend. A big question has been “What should I be doing right now?” Part of that is preparing for my future, which will be somewhere else.

The other morning, the “scripture of the day” popped up. And it was a doooooozy.

 ^“keep yourselves in God’s love as you wait for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ to bring you to eternal life.” Jude 21

Remaining in God’s love, during this season of transition and wondering. The unknown. The unanswered. Sounds like a safe place. And that the mercy of Jesus would bring me eternal life. His job, not mine. Resting in that. He has forgiven and paid for the sin in my life that separated me from God, and He promises to welcome me gladly into eternity. (That’s an open invite, for anyone who wants to believe. You can totally talk to me about it.)

I went back a verse, wanting to know more:

 ^“But you, dear friends, by building yourselves up in your most holy faith and praying in the Holy Spirit, keep yourselves in God’s love as you wait for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ to bring you to eternal life.” Jude 20 and 21 (There is only one chapter in this little gem.)

So, a few things that God recommended — to build myself up in faith and pray in the Holy Spirit.

How am I being built up in faith?

• Big on the list is the encouragement, kindness, support, and prayers of all of you. Your faith carries me. I welcome you with thankfulness into this process.
• Listening to worship music. Touching a little bit of Heaven.
• Reading God’s Word. Daily bread.
• Praying honestly with God. Thanksgiving, requests, honest questions, developing trust. Calling on Him to sustain me in this season. A frequent conversation.
• Watching what I say to myself. I am careful with this. We can crush our own hearts. Don’t. So much better to rest in a place of peace and joy. I refuse to move from that place. Yes, I let the tears come when they need to, but right now, I am grateful for an abounding sense of trust.

I think I need to learn more what it means to pray “in the Holy Spirit.”

• Truly releasing myself to what God is doing and allowing.
• Trusting that Jesus covers my sin, so God hears me
• Lining up my prayer with the wisdom of scripture
• Worshipping
• Resting and trusting

I’m just me. This crisis has not transformed me into a sage, but I am grateful for the wisdom that God gave us from the beginning, and still offers through all eternity.

With love, dear friends.

Photo by Richard on Mother’s Day, 2018

 

Contemplations

 

 

As I weigh out the possible loss of 40 more years of life, here is one of the things I contemplate on these suddenly quiet days. We all will one day be done here. We expect to get at least 70 years, preferably 80. I always planned on 90. How I would hate to miss out on the second half.

I have spent more than 50 years of my life as an incredibly healthy energetic person. Most of the time, I felt I could do anything. And really, I kinda did. This was lovely. It empowered me to raise five amazing children, my greatest blessing. The confidence God gives sent me off to work in a lovely profession teaching for our local hospital. I loved pouring out my life in the joy of investing in relationship building with many wonderful people. Projects were to be tackled and conquered. “I can do it!” was my cry. And I did.

Last March, things began to slow down and I wondered if menopause was just taking its toll. I tried all the usual good health things that have always worked in the past: rest, drink lots of water, go to the bathroom. (Really, that fixes most things.) But my health was decreasing, rather that improving. Finally, I went to our local family clinic. We tried a few things, but it became obvious that it was time for that oft-put-off colonoscopy.

“Unfortunately,” what the doctor found was colon cancer. We took a deep breath and told ourselves that this was a beatable scenario and the best cancer to have. Then we (I’m talking about me and my faithful husband when I say we) moved on to the CT scan. “Unfortunately” (the doctor keeps using that word), the cancer had wandered over to visit my liver.

Even without googling this, I knew this was now much more serious. I am in the process of making oncology appointments, but we all know that involves chemo. Meh. Nobody likes that. And the statistics are not near as lovely as they were a week ago.

So…..this is the processing season. I am surrounded by an incredible crowd of loving friends and family, all eager to pray, help, encourage, even in the middle of their own challenging lives. I thank them all. It means so much. I feel the prayers that are going up around the world and in church communities where I don’t even know people.

I’m not a crier, but this has been a time of tears. My greatest concern is the people I would leave behind. It is hard to see my children grieve. I had hoped to be a good grandma….and I’m still keeping all of the storybooks I have saved for grandchildren, as it’s not time to lose hope.

Telling my mom was hard. She’s always reminded us that there was to be “no crowding” ahead of her on the road to Heaven. I would just laugh. We never anticipate that we’ll be the one impacted early.

My husband. I tell him I had always planned to bury him. I think it would be hard on him to bury me. These things make me sad.

So this morning, as I began to write, the verse that came to me was from Psalm 90:12-17. Today, it is my prayer, whether my years be 54 or 94.

“Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom. Relent, O LORD! How long will it be? Have compassion on your servants. Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love, that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days. Make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us, for as many years as we have seen trouble. May your deeds be shown to your servants, your splendor to their children. May the favor of the Lord our God rest upon us; establish the work of our hands for us– yes, establish the work of our hands.”

As we contemplate our lives, may we grow in wisdom, seek a merciful God, be satisfied with His love, be joyful, and see Him establish our purpose. I pray this for me, and for each of you, today, and everyday. Amen.