Sucess

I have been thinking a lot about success this summer. My daughter works so hard at softball and loves it so much. When I watch her play, I want so badly for her to be successful - throw lots of strikes, get big hits, make great plays in the field, and win. Especially when she pitches, I get nervous and feel a pit in my stomach. I don't really know where this feeling comes from. On some level I couldn't care less how she does; I love her just the way she is and no athletic performance could change that. But I also deeply want to see her be successful and praised. 

I feel this for myself sometimes too. I want people to acknowledge my hard work and abilities. I want measurable results, even if it is just being able to say I checked everything off my to do list for that day. I don't want to struggle with new situations or bad habits. I want everything to come easily and for me to be seen as a success.

But I know God's Kingdom doesn't work like that. God desires intimacy with us and for us to be sanctified. These things don't come from everything going well for us, but from struggle, heartache, and humility. Jesus calls us not to pursue success, but to take up our cross, take the lowly position, and follow Him. 

I wish I could share with you a five step plan for keeping success in its proper perspective and focusing more on growth in Christ, both for ourselves and for our children. But I can't. I don't have this figured out yet. Instead I keep coming back to the things that get mentioned over and over around here: pray, read the Bible, express gratitude, be patient with yourself, and be willing to share your struggles with others. 

Grief During Seasons of Change

I am sure it comes as no surprise to anyone who has lost someone close to them, that during the whirlwind, stress, and excitement of our move, my grief has been stirred and has come to the surface in intense and surprising ways. It’s annoying, disruptive, and healing. It is hard to know what to do with my feelings. We are filled with gratitude about all we have accomplished during our time here and all God has planned for us in the future, and yet we would trade it all for just a few moments with Oliver.

One of my most intense grief responses in months, or maybe even years, came earlier this summer at church. Our pastors have been preaching through 1 Thessalonians. We came to 1 Thes 4:13-18. I knew the verses immediately, and they have brought me much comfort in the past:

Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him. According to the Lord’s word, we tell you that we who are still alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will certainly not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever. Therefore encourage one another with these words.

These words give me hope and encouragement now as I read and type them. They are such a vivid picture of the reunion that is coming one day. But during the sermon, tears started streaming down my face, and it was everything I could do to keep from sobbing. In that moment all I could think about was if Jesus came back even in just a few hours, it would be too long. I felt like I couldn’t wait a minute longer to be reunited with Oliver. I was shocked and embarrassed at the strength of my feelings and my inability to keep my composure and see the hope in the passage.

I share this experience with you today because I have learned it helps to name my feelings and get the words out of my head, to remind myself and you that although the tears feel yucky in the moment but they are ultimately healing, and as a testament to the truth that grief doesn’t follow a linear path, rather it ebbs, flows, and surprises as the Lord wisely leads us.

The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. Psalm 34:18