fall deaths and grieving them
As fall pokes its holes through the air in my world, I feel death looming over and around me; I so wish I just meant the plants and the trees.
I see the death in a dear one's spiritual walk, left me with theological questions, personal questions, angry questions, and no answers.
Of myself, as I watch dear aspects of my comfort, my impatience, my plans die for Him, because of Him, for His cause.
Of real people. With actual lives ended. Moms, sisters, classmates. I'm petrified by this, that death is this close, this permeating; it will stop for no one. I am struck by the unnaturalness of it all. How odd that something so certain for everyone feels so wrong, so off, like we weren't meant to die.
We were not made to die, nor to deal with death. Death was not His intention for us, which is why it shakes us to our innermost being. And death is devastating, because it negates every fiber of both our souls and our bodies. I hear of deaths of precious people I barely know and it deeply disturbs me. How much more grievous for dear ones: so opposite of how our relationships were meant to be (eternal); an unknown so deep and terrifying and uncharted. We were not made for good-byes; this is why the ache is so deep and the grief so shattering.
And, oh of those in distant lands who are searching so greatly for truth and for life and aren't finding it. Trapped in their spiritual death because no one is there to tell them the Truth. I cannot bear to think about this too long... but maybe I should think about it. Maybe I need to weep over these lost people in desperate prayers for them. Was I really born such a lucky one, in such Truth and Light, while these others across oceans and deserts search and search? Words seem inadequate for this tragedy.
But I digress. Such a topic should be saved for the unthinkable, silent, horrid days, perhaps when death comes knocking on the door of my inner circle. I dare not write much about death until I've tasted its bitter cup and see with my own eyes that sin permeates and kills. It would be an injustice to those grieving and coping. I look for the restorations and redemptions He works in and through these deaths. I try to simply trust that good things come from this, so painfully slowly. Restoration. Rebirth. Life. Eventually.
I pray for an eternal mindset, for my foremost desire to be for God's glory & fame--fulfilled on the last day-- but when these deaths happen, the chains of the temporary and the present don't let my mind rest in eternity. I wish I could always clearly see the purpose of it all.
But I know the Story our Author penned from the beginning; this story of life, death, and rebirth. Of His grand power to not stop the death, but to resurrect it (does this not show even greater power than stopping it?!). This plan of abundance crafted for the praise of His glory, which daily we shamefully deviate from, but no matter, because we are but mere extras in this plot. Supporting characters with but a line or two, spotlights shining on this new Character who happens to be the Author: the plot twist of a lifetime.
This grand story devastated by rebellion, but restored through sacrifice on behalf of its Author... yes, in a stunning act of sacrifice, our Author has invaded this now scandalously passionate Love story and died because He wanted us like a Husband wants His bride; inserted Himself to show us there is meaning, there is a purpose, there is something beyond the last page we can see. And that is Himself. We know that, though His handwriting was everywhere throughout this book, we were unable to see Him. But hallelujah, our Author entered our story.
And in this fight, this battle going on in this story... we can now be on the winning side! No longer rebels wanting our own stories where we are the hero (we have tried to write these, but our independent stories have fallen in shocked silence with no words when deaths, grief, suffering, and failure come). We are the Author's children! And at the end, we will forget if our character on Earth endured great triumph or tragedy because we are on the winning side. We will be with the Author, our Father, with our Husband, His Son; basking and delighting in our Author and this story He's written. And these small restorations He's provided for us are not just for our own stories (we know this is not our story!) or our satisfaction, but to satisfy and fulfill this plan of His that we are part of.
Like a blade of grass in His field of redemption.
I must admit I have more unanswered questions than when I started this post. I wish I could fully trust the One who has the answers. My flesh is frustrating me tonight, and those who are lost with no Truth are grieving me tonight.
And my eternal heart is just longing for perfection, for the part where we win and injustices are righted and the forgotten are gathered and the hurting are comforted.
Where once we see Him in the beautiful perfection of His holy glory, all suffering we've endured is validated and so, so worth it.
I see the death in a dear one's spiritual walk, left me with theological questions, personal questions, angry questions, and no answers.
Of myself, as I watch dear aspects of my comfort, my impatience, my plans die for Him, because of Him, for His cause.
Of real people. With actual lives ended. Moms, sisters, classmates. I'm petrified by this, that death is this close, this permeating; it will stop for no one. I am struck by the unnaturalness of it all. How odd that something so certain for everyone feels so wrong, so off, like we weren't meant to die.
We were not made to die, nor to deal with death. Death was not His intention for us, which is why it shakes us to our innermost being. And death is devastating, because it negates every fiber of both our souls and our bodies. I hear of deaths of precious people I barely know and it deeply disturbs me. How much more grievous for dear ones: so opposite of how our relationships were meant to be (eternal); an unknown so deep and terrifying and uncharted. We were not made for good-byes; this is why the ache is so deep and the grief so shattering.
And, oh of those in distant lands who are searching so greatly for truth and for life and aren't finding it. Trapped in their spiritual death because no one is there to tell them the Truth. I cannot bear to think about this too long... but maybe I should think about it. Maybe I need to weep over these lost people in desperate prayers for them. Was I really born such a lucky one, in such Truth and Light, while these others across oceans and deserts search and search? Words seem inadequate for this tragedy.
But I digress. Such a topic should be saved for the unthinkable, silent, horrid days, perhaps when death comes knocking on the door of my inner circle. I dare not write much about death until I've tasted its bitter cup and see with my own eyes that sin permeates and kills. It would be an injustice to those grieving and coping. I look for the restorations and redemptions He works in and through these deaths. I try to simply trust that good things come from this, so painfully slowly. Restoration. Rebirth. Life. Eventually.
I pray for an eternal mindset, for my foremost desire to be for God's glory & fame--fulfilled on the last day-- but when these deaths happen, the chains of the temporary and the present don't let my mind rest in eternity. I wish I could always clearly see the purpose of it all.
But I know the Story our Author penned from the beginning; this story of life, death, and rebirth. Of His grand power to not stop the death, but to resurrect it (does this not show even greater power than stopping it?!). This plan of abundance crafted for the praise of His glory, which daily we shamefully deviate from, but no matter, because we are but mere extras in this plot. Supporting characters with but a line or two, spotlights shining on this new Character who happens to be the Author: the plot twist of a lifetime.
This grand story devastated by rebellion, but restored through sacrifice on behalf of its Author... yes, in a stunning act of sacrifice, our Author has invaded this now scandalously passionate Love story and died because He wanted us like a Husband wants His bride; inserted Himself to show us there is meaning, there is a purpose, there is something beyond the last page we can see. And that is Himself. We know that, though His handwriting was everywhere throughout this book, we were unable to see Him. But hallelujah, our Author entered our story.
And in this fight, this battle going on in this story... we can now be on the winning side! No longer rebels wanting our own stories where we are the hero (we have tried to write these, but our independent stories have fallen in shocked silence with no words when deaths, grief, suffering, and failure come). We are the Author's children! And at the end, we will forget if our character on Earth endured great triumph or tragedy because we are on the winning side. We will be with the Author, our Father, with our Husband, His Son; basking and delighting in our Author and this story He's written. And these small restorations He's provided for us are not just for our own stories (we know this is not our story!) or our satisfaction, but to satisfy and fulfill this plan of His that we are part of.
Like a blade of grass in His field of redemption.
I must admit I have more unanswered questions than when I started this post. I wish I could fully trust the One who has the answers. My flesh is frustrating me tonight, and those who are lost with no Truth are grieving me tonight.
And my eternal heart is just longing for perfection, for the part where we win and injustices are righted and the forgotten are gathered and the hurting are comforted.
Where once we see Him in the beautiful perfection of His holy glory, all suffering we've endured is validated and so, so worth it.
Comments
Post a Comment