Answered Prayer

“I want you to be ALL MINE, filled with the Light of My Presence. I gave everything for you by living as a man, then dying for your sins and living again. Hold back nothing from Me. Bring me your most secret thoughts into the Light of My Love. Anything you bring Me I transform and cleanse from darkness. I know everything about you, far more than you know of yourself. But I restrain My yearning to “fix” you, waiting instead for you to come to Me for help. Imagine the divine restraint this requires, for I have all Power in heaven and earth. Seek My face with a teachable spirit. Come into My Presence with thanksgiving, desiring to be transformed.” June 8^th devotional reading of Jesus Calling by Sarah Young. 

During this time of grief, as people prayed for us, they have prayed that we might know why this happened, that God might reveal some of His purposes for us in this time. And while I thought that was a kind prayer, the pain in my heart said nothing would matter because it would not bring Lili back. And although that is still true, God gave me a breath of fresh air this morning when I read the above devotional. 

This devotional reminded me of my prayers for at least the last two years. I tended to be a somewhat legalistic Christian who was really quite self-sufficient and independent when it came to daily living out my relationship with God. When I finally was broken and devastated enough by the way I had been living my life – much like an agnostic in practicality – my prayer on and off throughout the last two years had been “Lord, please do whatever it takes to make me more fully Yours. To bring together knowledge about You and who You are, and make it real in my daily living. For me to experience Your love, not just know about it. To walk with You daily, dependent on You and Your guidance.” I wanted change. I wanted to live differently and I finally realized I could not make that happen myself. I remember praying that a bit fearfully, knowing that usually I don’t change easily, but it takes some big traumatic thing. I was even afraid it would mean losing Joa. But there comes a point when you are so tired of where you are at that you desire what God wants at any cost. At that point in my life, I had come to realize that having a true, intimate, close relationship with God was worth any cost. Well, at least I knew that intellectually. 

In the grief of losing Lili, I had forgotten those repeated prayers. It all came rushing back this morning when I read this devotion. Going through this situation with Lili has definitely been an answer, in part, to my prayers above. As I lived in San Antonio for four weeks with Lili while she was in NICU, I truly HAD to depend on God each day just to make it through the day. I had to look to Him for His grace and learned that ALWAYS when I sought Him and asked for help, He gave me just what I needed for the day. No more, no less. I learned if I tried to apply that grace to future worries, I had already spent the grace He had given me for that specific day. I learned that He really is the author and perfector of our faith (Heb 12:2) so that I did not have to “work hard” to somehow on my own “make” enough faith. Any faith I had was already a gift from Him; if I needed more, I could ask Him and He would provide. In the end, it certainly was not about me being self-sufficient or independent, doing what I needed to on my own, but leaning and depending on Him. The same only continued as Lili came home and we waited for a month, not knowing if we would lose her or not. The same needs to continue after we have lost her, and the grief is overpowering at times. God continues to ask me to believe in His goodness, trust His sovereignty, rest in His love, and know that He gives us His very best (even if it feels painful). He asks this of me. But He always provides what I need if I seek Him and ask for it. 

I could never have learned these things, had them ingrained in my heart and mind, without this situation. It was like boot camp, in a way. Painful but necessary training to prepare for what is ahead. God answered my previous prayers through our journey with Lili; it was one of His purposes for our time with her. 

Knowing that still does not take away the pain. No one will ever replace Lili. Yesterday we listed the things we loved and missed about her. Her attentive eyes. Her love of her hands on her head, or her arms crossed behind her head. Her drama queen actions. Her hiccups. Her cuddling. Her wiggliness. Her “the-world-is-going-to-end” scream when she was hungry. Her sleeping peacefully in Joa’s arms. We miss her. The pain of losing her will take a long time to go away. Maybe it will never fully go away, though the intensity will lessen. We loved her and loved her well. But we struggle, and try, and ask God for help – and weakly trust that He has already brought our good out of it and will bring more good. The tiny piece we see is neither the whole story nor the end of the story.

Grace

I wrote this last year but never got around to posting it. Several months later, it's still a powerful reminder of grace to me. I thought it was a good first blog for the new year.

I am tall and I have very bad depth perception. Those two things make an embarrassing and clumsy combination.

When I was little I hated to be so tall. I was so thankful to have a friend, Ruth Anne, as tall as me. They called us Twin Towers. We, the tall ones, survived together while everyone else was at least a foot shorter than us.

Today I love that I am tall but I think the bad depth perception doesn’t help me out at all. I still end up being a bit clumsy. When I first got married, my poor husband had to put up with getting scratched and bumped accidentally. At least I can tell how close he is these days – less accidental hurting going on – but I still am clumsy. A few months ago I literally walked into the bumper of a SUV. I thought it was farther away. And I did the quick look around to see if anyone saw me, as if that changed things for better or worse if there was a witness.

Yesterday, I had relational clumsiness. I had an emotional meltdown at work. As hard as I tried to keep it together and as hard as I tried to hold it back, I couldn’t. I sobbed. It was embarrassing. Then my kind bosses sent me home to take a nap, where I woke up refreshed and thought “who was that sobbing woman”? I am still not totally sure what happened yesterday.

I was so embarrassed. But (after my nap) when I regained my normal senses, I thought the whole event was very significant. I felt God dumping His grace and acceptance on me yesterday in very tangible ways. There is something wonderful about being vulnerable (even if you can’t help it) and being accepted. Being understood. Being cared for. That as clumsy as I can be sometimes relationally (as well as physically!), there is grace in that.

I think we all kind of bumble around in our own ways. We all have days when we are weak. We all have areas - not sin, mind you – but areas simply that annoy us, that make us look weak, that we wish we didn’t have that God says – I gave that to you. Without my clumsiness relationally, I would certainly not have opened myself up at work like I did yesterday. I wish I could have held it together and looked competent instead of pitiful with a tear stained face. But I experienced acceptance that I would not have seen.

I guess I just wanted to say to all you perfectionists (like me) out there – it’s worth it. Stop the lies in your head. You will not be less valuable if you look less perfect or perform less perfect or act less perfect. I hated how embarrassed I felt after my emotional meltdown yesterday. But since God wanted to remind me my acceptance was in who I am, not what I do, He pushed all my buttons (in a good way) so the tears flowed. And I am glad I have bosses who know me and accept me. Thank you Cathy and Phillip.

Wit

I watched a movie a few days ago that I am still looking for the right words to describe it and its impact on me.

You know, that kind of movie that you put in your queue for Netflix and then promptly forget about until it shows up. Then you wonder why you picked it in the first place. I put off watching it for a week. Then it got to the point that I either watch it or send it back. So I started watching it to decide if I should watch it or send it back.

And it sucked me in. Days later I am still thinking about some of the scenes.

It’s called Wit. It was an HBO movie released in 2001. Part of the description reads: “Emma Thompson stars as Vivian Bearing, a disciplined, esteemed English professor dealing with a sensitive issue -- her health. After being diagnosed with ovarian cancer, Bearing is forced to reassess her life and decide what's really important.”

The part that got me was the line where she decides what is really important in life.

It was full of contradictions. Not necessarily the fully fleshed out contradictions of life, but opposing themes laid side by side to contrast each other. Life and death. Those in helping professions who don’t care. Those who care despite their lack of scientific knowledge. The search for salvation. Being found by God. The puzzle of poetry and the simpleness of a children’s book. The elevation of knowledge over the human touch, and yet the simple power of kindness over sterile information.

Uncompromising in her discipline was how Vivian described herself in the movie. She says this with some regret as her doctor – who is very fascinated with research – also is uncompromising in his discipline of research. Uncompromising in this context means no grace, no kindness, no mercy. No human touch. No compassion.

I walked away from it moved and encouraged by its simple truths. There was a pureness to it. A honesty where you were surprised at what you found.

The scene that runs through my mind again and again is near the end. A former professor of hers comes to visit Vivian in the hospital. Vivian is in agony and is moaning with pain. You can see the anxiety and unrest. Her professor reads her a book she has purchased for her great-grandson called The Runaway Bunny. It’s a simple story that follows a baby bunny who threatens to run away from his mother. His mother promises her baby that she will always find him.

The professor adds a few sentences. “Look at that. A little allegory of the soul. Wherever it hides, God will find it.” And Vivian melts into a peaceful sleep.

It was tender and compassionate scene. It reminded me that God sometimes soothes our souls in the littlest ways, with His simple touches of kindness. A sunny day. A soft dog to cuddle with. A phone call from a friend. A hug from a spouse. God touches us, chases us, and finds us every day in ways that are meaningful to us. But sometimes - often! - they are so small and simple, if we are not watching and listening, we miss them.

It also reminded me that we are all humans before we are anything else. Before any profession that we follow, we are humans first. And interacting with each other on that level is the simplest, kindest thing we can do. Whatever our role to play in life is, it should not be lacking kindness and grace.

It was more than a movie to me. It was a fresh perspective. It was a reminder to me of what is really important in life as I interact with others. I can certainly be “uncompromising in my discipline”. Sometimes I have to work at having fun. I become so focused on my tasks that I do not see or care for those around me.Or take the time to enjoy them.

I guess you could say this was my reminder to stop and smell the roses. With the roses being people. And the smelling being extending kindness and grace.