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….
