Reflections written in August

The month of August hasn't been what was expected.  I wrote this first reflection/devotion  the week of 8/14, mainly about my job loss.  The second one is a bit of how I'm processing the death of Ethan.

 

Climbing

Lately, I’ve been thinking of one of my favorite verses: “So Abraham called that place The LORD Will Provide. And to this day it is said, ‘On the mountain of the LORD it will be provided.’” Genesis 22:14

Three days earlier, God had told him to sacrifice Isaac, the promised child he waited 25 years for, as an offering to Him.

I wonder during those three days what went through Abraham’s mind.

Did he plead with God at any point, asking, “Please tell me how you are going to fix this.  Please tell me exactly how you are going to provide. ”

But no response came. He had to keep climbing the mountain, trying to sort out the things God had told him:  Isaac was the promised child, but now must be sacrificed.

Sometimes, that is where we are, climbing a mountain we didn’t want to be on, knowing God is faithful, but wondering how He will work things out this time. 

Maybe climbing is exactly where we need to be.

The night before he died, Jesus told his disciples in John 16: 21-22, “A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but when her baby is born she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child is born into the world.

So with you: Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy.”

For another three days, people were left wondering what just happened and what was going on.

They cried and hid in fear for their lives.

They only had words and past miracles to cling on to.

Was it all just in vain?  Would what He said really come true?

God doesn’t always tell us how long we’ll be climbing, but He did tell us that it’s okay to be dealing with uncertainty, confusion, and loss.

Maybe without the climb, we wouldn’t appreciate the providing.

Maybe without the grief, we wouldn’t appreciate the joy.

 

Ethan

(6/9/17 to 8/26/17) posted on facebook

 

It is hard to process everything that happened this past week.  In the early hours on August 26th, all I could do was pray over and over for Jesus to help us. I also thought of a song by Switchfoot called “Twenty Four” that says, “Life is not what I thought it was twenty four hours ago….” 

When Ethan left earth, life and death no longer were what we thought they were.

Many of you don’t even know Lee and Der so it has meant so much to them and us that not only would you pray, but you would also hurt with them. 

I know the power of prayer, but now have seen another layer in how we connect as God’s children.

It occurred to me a few days after Ethan’s death that we have the pain because we love.  We love Ethan, Lee, and Der.  If we never loved them, it wouldn’t hurt so much.  Even if you didn’t know them, you are still able to love them because God made us to connect in the highs and lows of life.

And “we love because God first loved us."  Jesus is there in the blessings of life, and in the sorrows this fallen world brings. He hurt with people, for people, ultimately sacrificing His life and defeating death with the resurrection so that we would know forgiveness and that He cares about our pain.

Emmanuel-God with us. 

I love name meanings, so I looked up the meaning of Ethan: “strong and firm.”

Ethan’s middle name (Yeng Cha), chosen by his maternal grandfather, means “Wins the most.”

Strength and victory aren’t words that have ever come to my mind in describing a baby.  But Ethan’s life has made an impact far greater than we ever imagined. The smile and pureness of this tiny, sweet baby we held in our arms will hold us in the depths of our pain. 

We will have an intense void without Ethan.

We will struggle in trying to reconcile his death with God’s truth- that He is good, faithful, and powerful- even now and to come.

I don’t know or understand how Ethan’s story continues, but I do know it hasn’t ended yet….