A Lament

As we teeter on the edge of a new year today, I feel fairly certain many people are looking back on 2013 and considering whether or not it was a good year. I have been. I will say it was a rough year for me. I wanted this New Year’s message to be different than the one I am going to write, but my heart hurts and I am finding it very hard to “count it all joy…” as Peter instructed the early Christians.

This year began so promising. Work was going well, the family was healthy, and I was stable. Every Sunday I looked forward to helping lead worship at church as a part of the praise team. Daily I could look at the blessings God poured out on me and lift up a grateful heart in prayer and praise. There were some bumps in the road, but they were minor.

But then I lost a friend and coworker to a fast moving rare cancer. She died within eight weeks of her diagnosis. It was a blow to me and to my work place. I really wrestled over it. She was young, and left behind a grieving husband and three children under 14 years of age. For reasons only God knows, not more than two months later, I began a slow downward spiral into deep depression.

Medication adjustments did little to help as each day my mental health deteriorated. By August, I was suicidal and with prompting, admitted myself to the hospital my psychiatrist directed me to. I was so demoralized by that point and I felt defeated, hopeless, and helpless. More medication changes, a week of intensive therapy and the start-up of ECT treatments (Electro Convulsive Therapy) and I was released feeling I was on steadier ground. The strong suicidal feelings abated and I felt like I still had a place in the world. But I was off work for thirteen weeks and it took every one of them to climb back up to where I felt I was strong enough to return.

Then my mother fell and broke her upper arm, requiring surgery. Within the month she fell again and broke her hip, requiring more surgery. At 93, it was just too much to take and she began to lose ground. She was three hours away where I could not just drive to the hospital and visit daily. Not being there was difficult.

I went to be with her for a weekend and then made arrangements to get off work and went back down for what would be her final week on earth. We moved her to my brother’s home where she could be surrounded by family and a vigil was kept around the clock. What time was left I spent telling her how much I loved her, and watched and waited with my brother and sister as she slipped first into a coma, and then into eternity. Her memorial service was four days before Christmas.

Stable, healthy, sorrowful, depressed, suicidal, heartbroken, and now it’s New Year’s Eve. The year is over and I am looking back too weary to even ask why. My only prayer is Psalm 61:1-4a.

“Hear my cry, O God; listen to my prayer. From the end of the earth I call to you, when my heart is faint. Lead me to the rock that is higher than I; for you are my refuge, a strong tower against the enemy. Let me abide in your tent forever, find refuge under the shelter of your wings. Selah.”

I suppose this blog entry would be aptly called a lament. I have poured out my soul and complaints in the presence of God and his people. There isn’t much more to say. If anything can be pulled out of this that may be uplifting perhaps it is that God has not abandoned me and I do know that. But I feel raw, broken on the wheel and hurt too much to say more than that.

This is longer than I generally write and if anyone has read it completely, I thank you. You have given me a gift to begin the New Year: friendship, care, and a sense of not being left alone in this maze of pain. You are the face of God toward me that I can see and touch. I earnestly hope when I get back on my feet, I will be the same toward you.

A Time of Tears

There is a wonder about Christmas. The anticipation of Christmas Day causes children to hope to find that desired gift under the tree, whose lists for Santa parents hope they can afford. It’s a time for family to gather for sharing joy. For Christians, the Advent season is a time of remembering the true reason for the celebration. The Son of God, Jesus, the Eternal One, stepped into time in the incarnation. Gathering together in worship just adds to the joy of the coming of Christ, the Messiah.

But for some, the time of Advent is a time of sadness and depression. They are the ones who have suffered the death of a loved one. It’s hard to celebrate when the heart is broken, especially if the loss has come during the Christmas season. There is a pall cast over the day and instead of celebration, there is sorrow and grief. The empty place at the dinner table is a source of pain. The “Merry Christmas” greeting hurts and rings hollow.

Jesus came into the world to save sinners, but he also came to bring joy and hope that only God can bestow. Paul said believers do not grieve as the world grieves because we have the hope of resurrection and eternal life. When a Christian dies, it is merely a transition to another life in the presence of God. If we truly believe Jesus is the Resurrection and the Life, then we know the separation is only temporary. But while there is a joy in the journey, the truth is death is a part of our experience.

I lost my mother just a week ago and right now I am numb. It is the only way I will make it through the season. There will be a family gathering and we will share in a common loss. But I also know my mother would want to us to celebrate the coming of Jesus, to care for one another and share fond memories rather than gather to weep. There will be a time to grieve, but my mother is seeing the face of God and that is reason to celebrate. As Ecclesiastes 3:4 says, there is a time to weep and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance.

I am straddling the fence between grief and joy, trying to find a balance that honors the Lord. He understands my grief. I am neither scolded nor expected to be pain-free. I am only asked to remain faithful and trust in the promises of a loving and merciful God. Grace is not meted out in small doses; it flows abundantly from the bottomless vessel that is the heart of the Father. I do have hope of seeing both my parents again. I said goodbye to my dying mother, but knew she was only a shell of what she is now.

All I ask is to be allowed to grieve in my own way, to be prayed over and to be loved in this place. God meets us where we are. He is near us in our pain and our joy. The day will come when loved ones will say goodbye to me. I don’t want them to lose sight of what is true, that though our vessels of clay will break down, the resurrection will bring life again, a life that will never end. I will remember that when the tears fall. 

The Legacy

Two days ago, my mother quietly slipped into eternity. It wasn’t a surprise.  We knew she was nearing the end of her life on earth. More importantly, she knew she was dying and was at peace about it. She was ready to go home. She was longing to go to her life in heaven and to be with my father who preceded her in death eight years ago. 

My mother lived ninety-three years, and I had the great blessing of knowing her for fifty-eight of them. She was a kind and loving mother, who loved her three children, her nine grandchildren, and seven great grandchildren.  She treated her sons-in-law and daughter-in-law like they were her own children. Indeed, my husband called her Mom because she was so accepting.

My mother was a rock throughout her life. Strong and intelligent, she was someone to emulate. I learned much from her about how life should be lived. She was not a complainer, even during the times of recovery for multiple broken hips and an arm in her later years. She kept her sense of humor and showed our family how to live through hardships without losing faith in a gracious and merciful heavenly Father.

My mother will be richly rewarded in her new life because of the way she lived life while in her earthly vessel. She served the Lord faithfully throughout her years and loved him. She was genuinely grateful for the blessings God showered on her, and remained faithful even in the hardest of times. It is her legacy to me and the rest of my family. There is an estate left behind, but my true inheritance is the gift of faith she instilled in me. I was reared in the church and have believed in the Savior of my soul throughout my life, thanks to my mother and my father.

She honored God and trusted him for everything. And during my years of wandering, she loved me and prayed every day for God to bring me back into the fold. God answered her prayers and I returned to the faith I had been raised in.

Her very favorite scripture verse was Micah 6:8. “He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” My mother lived by that verse. Her walk of humble faith with God taught me the same. It is what I strive for.

In her last lucid moments, I read that verse to her, along with two other favorites, Psalm 23, and John 3:16. My mother knew she was going to see the Lord face to face and had no fear of death. I believed that about her, too. Some of my final words to her included asking for forgiveness for all I had done to hurt, and to tell her how much I loved her. And the most difficult thing I whispered to her was also the most loving gift I could give. I told her it was okay to let go. She said, “Thank you”, and passed away soon after.

My heart aches and my grief is in the beginning stages of a process I will have to live through. But I take solace in the truth that I will see her again someday. We will rejoice in the presence of the Lord forever, because a shared faith and that is my mother’s legacy to me. 

The Valley of Darkness

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of darkness, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me”, so King David proclaimed in Psalm 23. I understand his feelings. I, too, recently walked through the valley of darkness, and if the Lord had not been with me, I honestly think it would have all been over. I was in too much pain to maintain any semblance of desire to continue living.

It began in the summer; a gradual decline into a deep depression. First it was the Melanoma scare, then the rapid death of a coworker from a rare form of cancer. The straw that broke the camel’s back was being told I had the beginnings of Macular Degeneration. The possibility of going blind was too much to bear. I got a second opinion and received a temporary reprieve, but I am in limbo for a few more months to see if there is any progression. It runs in the family and it isn’t a stretch to think I am developing it.

My psychiatrist insisted that I needed to go to outpatient intensive therapy at a hospital she recommended. With little hope I went there and found myself owning up to being suicidal. I went three times and the group and the therapist pushed me to go inpatient. I was interviewed by a hospital psychiatrist and she thought I was truly in a dangerous place and made arrangements for me to go to the mental health ward.

For a week, they adjusted my medications hoping that my mental state would improve, but it didn’t. All is could feel is that the end was near and I simply could not take another step. Finally they suggested what my psychiatrist had talked to me about: ECT treatments. That stands for Electro Convulsive Therapy. They put you out and send electrical currents into the brain and cause it to have a seizure. It is supposed to work by causing chemicals in the brain to redistribute and be more effective in fending off depression. There is short term memory loss, but I had no hope, I was profoundly depressed, so I consented.

It only took about three sessions to begin to feel less depressed, and a glimmer of hope set in. All the while, I knew people were praying for me when I could not pray, and their prayers were heard. Ten sessions completed and two more to go and I am completely restored and am feeling like a new person and for that I praise the Lord. He stayed by my side and whispered to me that I needed to take the drastic step of going into treatment. I would have sunk further had he not held onto me. The evil one wanted me dead, but God is the giver of life and light and for the believer, that is the source of hope when darkness settles in and threatens to overwhelm.

Bipolar depression is manageable with the right medications and treatment, and I am grateful God planned for me to be born in an age where modern medicine and prayer can work together to restore what was lost: peace of mind, hope, joy, and unrelenting faith in God’s abiding presence.

Today I feel like life has begun once again. I am out of the woods and on firm ground. God is truly good to me. He grabbed me as I was standing on the brink and pulled me back to safety, and my joy is overflowing. He is leading me beside still waters and has restored my soul. Nothing in our lives is wasted in the end. We can be witnesses to God’s great love and grace no matter how low we have sunk. We have a testimony to share and others who are standing where we have trod will gain hope that what he has done for us, he will do for those who cry out to him for salvation and rescue.

I praise him for his goodness toward me. Regardless of your state of mind and soul, you can have hope and can testify with full confidence that your life and the lives of others matter very much. When you think of when you have been in the valley of darkness, remember that someone else needs to hear your story, because you are a living witness of God’s enduring love. Amen.

The Suffering of God's Own

“Just curse God and die.”  That was the advice to Job from his wife.  Not very encouraging or helpful when he was making an effort in his pain to remain faithful to the Lord. But it did not last long. Job was visited by three friends who proceeded to tell him why God had done this to him. God would rebuke them later for their distorted idea of God’s ways and character.  In reality, Satan was responsible, but God permitted him to cause Job to suffer in terrible ways.

I have often wondered why God permits suffering to come to his own children. Those who have been faithful, who love God, and have tried to live their lives as Jesus did while he walked among humankind. I suspect I am not alone in pondering this question. And like Job, some people seem to suffer more than their share in comparison to others. Some sail through life while others suffer, and sometimes terribly.

God gives clues as to why he permits suffering to his own. In I Peter 1: 3-7. To give background, in verses 1:3 Peter refers to the hope of resurrection of God’s people. In verse 4, he says this resurrection is imperishable, and being kept in heaven for, “you who are being protected by the power of God through faith for a salvation revealed in the last time.” Verse 6-7, “In this you rejoice, even if for now for a little while you have had to suffer various trials, so that the genuineness of your faith—being more precious than gold that, though perishable, is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.”

The underlined words speak of being protected for salvation, and suffering reveals our faith. That is not the only place in the New Testament that speaks along those lines. But it always doesn't answer the “Why me God?” question.

When Job and his three friends got through their extended discourses, of Job arguing that his righteousness should have prevented all his suffering and that God was being unfair, then a fourth comes along and tells Job straight forward that he isn’t as righteous as he thinks he is. At this point God finally speaks and never answers the question directly, he tells Job to get ready to answer some questions God had for him, and proceeded to say to Job, 40:1-2 “And the Lord said to Job: Shall a faultfinder contend with the Almighty? Anyone who argues with God must respond.”

God then launched into the questions he had for Job, which was, were you there when I created the huge and powerful beasts of the earth? Are you or any other man able to contend with them? Their power is beyond that of a man. Then Job says, 42:5-6, “I heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eyes see you; therefore I despise myself, and repent in dust and ashes.”

God still didn’t say why Job suffered, he just told him that he was the Almighty and no one can thwart him. We get a better glimpse of suffering now because the New Testament reveals more. But in the midst of our suffering, despite clear reasons, many still ask why me. In a way we are still told the same by God to Job.  When he repented of his complaining, accusations of God’s character, and self- deceptions of his own righteousness, God restored all he had lost and more.

The old saying count your blessings is the best advice there is for suffering. You need to be gentle and careful as how to say it. Those exact words can be received badly, but all of us who have suffered should find things in our lives for which we can call blessings. And remember that our suffering is to purify our faith in preparation for the salvation which is ours even now. God is on his throne and has your best at heart. And now we have Jesus who intercedes on our behalf, who defends when the children of God are accused. But there are simply some things we won’t understand in this temporary life on earth. But the day will come when all is made known.  In the meantime, always remember God’s goodness to you, for your faith is being tested, and not in vain.

The Pain of Depression

Stable. That's what I have been for several years. A few minor bumps in the road along the way, but medicine tweaks have put me back on track. It's been eight years since I finally went to a psychiatrist to see what was wrong with me and  was told it was Bipolar Disorder. It took five years to find the right “cocktail” of meds to get me stable, but I had no choice but to hang in there, the other option was not good. And I contemplated it with strong feelings at times.


Stable. Everything was going along smoothly until several unexpected, scary, and painful events occurred. Then suddenly the bottom dropped out from under me and I have been in a severe depression for over a month now. My psychiatrist is doing all she can. But I've already been off work for a month, unable to do my job like this. The straw that broke the camel's back was being told I had the beginning of Macular Degeneration, meaning, I was going to go blind. Another doctor isn't so sure, so now I hang in limbo. After the Melanoma scare, and the death of a close colleague at work, it was too much and I have fallen into a severe depression.


In all this I wonder where God went. I feel like Job. I want to simply say,“The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.”and try to cope. But I still wonder why all this has happened and all I can pray is, “Jesus save me.” I love God . That hasn't changed, but I feel like He is busy in another galaxy and I am on my own. Yet the words I have told people many times come back to me. “It will get better., you will come through this with God's grace.” “There is light at the end of the tunnel. You just can't always see it because tunnels sometimes have curves that block the light.” Now I fight to believe the very things I have tried to encourage others with.


I don't find God in this. Yet, He has promised to never forsake us. Scripture is in my head, but it is often drowned out by words that tell me otherwise. Words that can only be whispered in my ear by the enemy of my soul. Right now there is a war which rages within me. I can thank God that I live in an age of medical advancements that have replaced the days when people like me would be locked up in prisons, sometimes with people allowed to come in to see the crazy people and make fun of them. Yet the stigma is still firmly rooted in the minds of the majority, and shame for having a mental illness lingers in my mind.


God's grace has got to be there. His answer to Job as to why all the trouble had happened to him wasn't an explanation, it was to tell him of His power and that questioning Him was often pointless, and Job repented of doubting. I don't want platitudes. I want to hide, but God even in His seeming abandonment is still on His throne and somehow that gives me a little hope that things can't get worse.


I do believe in spite of my feelings, that my simple prayer is heard and it is sufficient. I don't know when things will turn around. I don't know when God will finally lift me up again. But down in the deepest recesses of my heart and soul I haven't lost faith. I just can't bring it to the surface where I need it the most.


At the end of each church service we say “God is good all the time, and all the time, God is good.” Sometimes I can't say it, I just can't say the words out loud, because I don't understand. But where else have I to go? Psalm 139:9-10 says, .”If I take the wings of the morning and settle at the farthest limits of the sea, even there Your hand shall lead me, and Your right hand shall hold me fast.”


I have the slightest glimmer of hope that the very hopelessness I feel, will be lifted and once again, I will be able to say along with my brothers and sisters that “God is good all the time.” He has to be.

God's Weight Watchers

I recently joined Weight Watchers. I just want to shed fifteen pounds, but I was getting nowhere on my own. I finally knew I needed the help of someone who had a better way, who had a plan for losing weight and so far I have lost 7 and a half pounds. It’s not as easy to take it off as it is to put it on. So I feel pretty darn good about it.

I can say not all if it was eating issues. I was put on a medication that caused me to gain ten pounds in one month. The other five came from taking up my old habit of eating junk food all the time. Well, truthfully, the ten came from the extreme hunger the medication caused and instead of eating healthy. I grabbed fast food, a lot of it. It was just easier to do it, but the consequences were not worth it.

Sometimes we do that when it comes to our spiritual lives. We try to tackle problems on our own, only to find that often we don’t get far if anywhere at all. Then after a while of trying, we may give in to whatever we were struggling with, a besetting sin, an addiction, or maybe an unchristian attitude toward others. There really is no limit to our struggles in this life. God told Paul’s begging to have a “thorn in his flesh” removed that God’s grace was sufficient for him. We face trials throughout our lives and when we try to deal with them on our own, weariness becomes the result and ultimately, we can lose hope and stumble. It is the easier way to deal with the fatigue of working out our problems.

But God waits patiently for us to turn to him for his help and his own plan for situations. Just like I need Weight Watchers to help me do something I can’t seem to do on my own, so, too, we need the Lord to come and show us the way to deal with the struggles we face. It’s so easy to forget we have the abiding presence of the Lord within us in one of the Trinity, the Holy Spirit. Jesus said he would comfort, strengthen and guide us, to reveal God’s plan. The bible says if anyone of you lacks wisdom let him ask it of God, only do it with faith.

Weight Watchers’ wisdom and plan will help me lose the weight I want to, but it won’t help me in any other way. The other struggles I have, I must rely on the Lord who will help me win by the Holy Spirit. And they are more numerous and some are more serious than I want to admit. But the comforter, advocate, strength, the source of God’s wisdom, is prepared for all that troubles us. His help, his plan is what we need to turn to, not our own power and wisdom.

We have an enemy that wants to distract us from that spiritual help. He is clever and has a plan, too. To keep you from turning to God for the grace that is sufficient for all things. Sometimes trials end, sometimes they don’t, but rely on the One to give you strength and wisdom and seek to follow his plan and not your own.

I expect to lose fifteen pounds, but I also will take my trials and tribulations to God, the One who wants me to succeed in all things. His grace is sufficient for me.

Why God?

I have questions for God. There are some things I don’t understand and I would like answers. I guess to some that sounds impertinent, to ask the Creator of all seen and unseen to explain why some things go terribly wrong and why He lets them happen when it’s within his power to stop them. Cue the platitudes: “I guess it was His will.” “They are in a better place.” “God had His reasons.” “God wanted another angel in heaven.”

There are others, but truth be known, when death comes to the young and those in the prime of life, I am left without a satisfying answer and I hate handing out platitudes to the grieving. It feels like it invalidates their pain and offers hollow words that do nothing to truly console those who may be asking the same questions. “Why God?” “Why did You do this?” “Why didn’t You heal?” “Why did You let this happen?” Honest, legitimate questions and to ask them is a natural response to tragedy.

I am steeped in faith in the goodness of God. I don’t believe He gives people cancer or other deadly diseases. So the question of why God makes people sick and die doesn’t haunt me. But that faith doesn’t come so easily to others. And the question of why He allows suffering is one that has been asked since Cain killed Abel leaving a pair of grieving parents to wrestle with it. It’s most common to point to the story of Job who lost all his children, his wealth, and his health and was left in great physical and emotional pain trying to stay faithful, but eventually began accusing God of being unjust and uncaring. Even his wife told him to just curse God and die.

Why God allows suffering is a question I wrestle with along with so many who experience loss in one form or another. It bothers me enough that I have gotten angry with God. I have suffered some very ugly painful things. It took nearly thirty years for me to finally share about one incident in a therapy group. Wherever people gather who have suffering in common, one of two things can happen. Either people will prod each other’s anger, depression or hate, or they will find a way to comfort one another. Fortunately, I was in the latter. I still don’t understand why I could be minding my own business and become the victim of a violent crime. I believed God would protect me, and it seemed He didn’t, at least at the time. But as the wisdom that comes from age has gradually deepened in me, I realize He did protect me from something even worse.

I just lost a friend and coworker to cancer. It was a fast-moving aggressive and rare cancer that claimed her life within months. I prayed, I asked my church to pray. I asked everyone I knew to pray for her, and I have no doubt her family and church were praying, too. But God didn’t heal her. God didn’t stop the spread of the disease or ease her suffering. Instead, He let her die. And it begs the question, “Why God? Why are her children bereft of their mother, her husband left without his life’s companion? Where were You?” We want an answer that makes sense. We want to know why the God of love and mercy let this happen.

Nowhere in the scripture are we promised exemption from suffering. What sets Christians apart is their worship of the suffering Messiah. One who came and dwelt among us and experienced all that we do, including excruciating pain and death. But we worship not just a suffering Messiah, but One who was raised from the dead and lives and promises the same to us. Some call it pie in the sky. I call it faith and I can do that because of how He has touched my life and so utterly changed it from what it had been before I became a friend of His.

I cannot answer the why of my friend’s death, but I can believe she now sees the face of God and Jesus who made it possible. And I can believe that one day I’ll see His face, too, and not only that, but see her, too, and maybe we’ll laugh about some of the crazy things that happened in the library. I believe she already knows why her life ended the way it did. The rest of us will have to wait to know, but God is God and He has the final say over all His creation, and that’s no platitude.

My church ends each service with the phrase, “God is good all the time, and all the time God is good.” That is the only thing that keeps me going when bad things happen. Scripture says all things work together for good for those who love the Lord. We may wrestle with God for a time, but eventually our strength fails and then we discover instead of chastening us for the struggle, he picks us up and holds us, letting His love overwhelm our grief and calm the emotional storm in our souls. It may not answer, “Why” now, but it will help us carry on without bitterness, and that will bring the peace and patience to wait until we finally learn why.