Precious In the Sight of The Lord

Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his faithful servants. 

(Psalm 116:15 NIV)

It was on this day, one year ago, that I got in the car to drive to Birmingham with Lori and her family. I had driven to Birmingham with Lori many times before to visit Summer while she was receiving treatments and then while she was in the hospital the last couple of months. 

This trip had a very different feel. No laughing or stopping for Doritos Locos tacos or Fruit and Maple oatmeal. 

This time we knew we were going to say goodbye. It was time for our sister, our friend, to go Home to her Daddy. I personally had never been in a situation like that and haven't really lost anyone I was very close to and lived life with. I had no idea what to expect, what to say or how I would react.

(I'm writing this in a public coffee shop. I find I'm having to stop after every sentence to look around and distract myself so I don't burst into tears)

When we got there, Summer was not awake, so I didn't get to speak to her directly. Though I wish I could have said goodbye, I trust that I said everything I needed to say in the months and weeks prior. Honestly that moment wasn't about me at all. She didn't have a need to hear from me. It was I who felt the need to make sure she knew certain things and that I loved her. 

Anyway, the next day and a half is a time I will treasure for the rest of my life. I can't fully grasp the mind of the Lord, but I feel like I tasted what it means for the death of His faithful servants to be precious.

Now, hold on...I'm not saying the fact that she left this world too soon was precious. No. That? Well...it sucks. Big time. 

What I mean is that I count that time spent as the highest privilege (outside of raising my own children) I've ever had. To have been able to sit and hold her hand, to sing (I'm sorry, Summer - I'm not a good singer), to pray, to be silent and just be present is so precious to me. I had made a promise to stay with her to the end of her journey. Whether the journey ended in physical healing or in her homegoing. It was mostly a statement of friendship and loyalty, but I was literally able to be there to the end. 

Charles Spurgeon said this about Psalm 116:15:

"The Lord watches over their dying beds, smooths their pillows, sustains their hearts, and receives their souls. Those who are redeemed with precious blood are so dear to God that even their deaths are precious to him." 

What a sweet image of a loving God, a loving Father, caring for His child. It's what I saw taking place in the room, literally, in people caring for her and wanting to be sure she was comfortable. Sheets were smoothed, pillows adjusted and feet rubbed. And it's what I felt in the peaceful and sweet atmosphere.

(I have now vacated the coffee shop to retreat to the safety of my car)

Y'all, I don't know how to explain the mixture of sadness and joy. It's a paradox. It's indescribable but I felt it. Those hours are so special to me that I almost don't want to let you into them. It's not like I was the only person there...there were many people present. But it's a sacred thing that Jeremy and her family let me into. I am deeply grateful to them for it. I want to protect it somehow. Is that weird? Probably.

When she finally left this world there was a flood of emotion and surprisingly much of it was joy. The grief came, believe me, and it hit like a brick wall. But right then it was a precious thing to know her incredible suffering had ended and she had safely arrived home, into the presence of a loving God.

She crossed the finish line.

And I was there. It's probably the closest I have ever felt to the Lord. You see, this isn't the kind of precious we use to talk about a little girl in a cute outfit. It's the kind that stands at attention, that holds its breath, that's fixated on someone so valued and so special and handles her with great care. It's not the death that's precious. It's the saint.

The last year has been a roller coaster of emotion and memory, but I hold to the thought of her with Him, interceding for us, even now, just like she did in life. 

And she is whole. And that is, indeed, precious.

Overcome

This morning before I drove Caeley to school, I got out my iPad to select a playlist for the drive and decided to choose one called, "Summer." It's a list of songs I used to listen to as I prayed for Summer Kempfer...songs that encouraged my heart and reminded me of God's faithfulness. It's not a list I have selected very often over the last year.

As I listened and thought back about last year I was overcome with the truth that despite what happened, Summer was a warrior. I remembered a day near the end that Lori, Rhiannon and I sat beside her bed praying and reading scripture to her. That particular day my heart was on fire with the truth that even though her body was weak and failing, that she was, in truth, strong - stronger than she had ever been - on the inside. I wanted so badly to communicate that to her and to let her know how proud of her I was.

I couldn't remember what passage of scripture I read to her, but then I remembered that Lori made a Caring Bridge entry that night. Something told me that when I looked back I would see that it was this same day last year. And indeed it was. On October 18, 2012, Lori shared that we had just visited with Summer and she named the passage of scripture I had read (thanks, Lori :).

I'm really awkward with words and I didn't know if she could really comprehend what I was saying, but I read Psalm 18:30-36:

 As for God, His way is blameless; The word of the Lord is tried; He is a shield to all who take refuge in Him. For who is God, but the Lord ? And who is a rock, except our God, The God who girds me with strength And makes my way blameless? He makes my feet like hinds' feet, And sets me upon my high places. He trains my hands for battle, So that my arms can bend a bow of bronze. You have also given me the shield of Your salvation, And Your right hand upholds me; And Your gentleness makes me great. You enlarge my steps under me, And my feet have not slipped. (Psalms 18:30-36 NASB)

My feet have not slipped. I love that.

On the same day, one year later, my heart again was burning with the same message. It's really the message that has been written on my heart from walking through that entire experience. Though I walked it at a distance, as compared to Summer, and to the ones who were there day in and day out, I walked it in my own way, nonetheless. And the word that continues to echo in my heart is OVERCOME.

We hear the words, "spiritual warfare," a lot in church circles, or some of us do, anyway, and I'm not sure a lot of people even understand what that means. Understand something. Spiritual warfare is not simply trying to pray evil away and change our negative circumstances.

It is mostly about standing our ground. It's about standing firm in the day of evil, as Paul says in Ephesians 6. It's about shoring ourselves up for the evil, for the bad, sad, uncomfortable, circumstances that will inevitably come. It's about maintaining our testimony that God is real and He is good, no matter what. It's about never turning back. When you're going upstream and the current seeks to sweep you away, it's about having a stronghold that keeps your feet in place and holds you upright. It's about keeping our minds on things above and on things that are true, when arguments and thoughts that exalt themselves against the knowledge of God come. It's about knowing who we are in Christ, who God says we are in the face of persecution, accusations or misunderstandings.

This is a beautiful picture of Summer, from October 17, 2012, where we see her lifting her weak arms to worship her God. The song playing was "Place of Freedom":



Photo used with permission

There's a calm that covers me

When I kneel down at your feet

It's a place of healing

It's a place where I find freedom

There's a place my eyes can't see

Where my spirit longs to beIt's a place of healing

It's a place I live in freedom

I'm gonna lift my hands

til I can reach heaven

I'm gonna shout your name

til the walls come falling down,

I've come to worship, I've come to worship

This is the heart of the Summer I knew. I have absolutely been marked by this and I continue to be reminded when I find myself in difficult situations, that I am an overcomer, too.

And what I really wanted to share with you today, what's set me on fire this morning, is that in Christ, YOU are an overcomer. If you want to be. It's in you. Do you know that?

To the one going through cancer treatments, stand firm! Overcome! You can do it!

To the one facing major surgery, stand firm! Overcome! You can do it!

To the one in financial distress and uncertainty, stand firm! Overcome! You can do it!

To the one with a troubled marriage, stand firm! Overcome! You can do it!

To the lonely ones, stand firm! Overcome! You can do it!

We have a "great cloud of witnesses" who have gone before us, showing us what it looks like. We can do this y'all.

Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? Just as it is written, "For Your sake we are being put to death all day long; We were considered as sheep to be slaughtered." But in all these things we overwhelmingly conquer through Him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:35-39 NASB)

NOTHING CAN SEPARATE YOU. YOU WIN.

Thoughts on Weakness

Is weakness bad? 

If we accept that God created us with particular strengths, then we must also accept that He created us with some particular weaknesses, if only by virtue of the fact that he didn't strengthen those areas. Note, I'm not talking sin, here, but weaknesses.

Paul said he actually boasted in His weakness.

In 2 Corinthians 12:9 he said, "He [God] has said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.' Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me."

Another way to say this might be that our weakness is like an empty glass and His power is what "adds what is yet wanting in order to render a thing full" (quote from the lexicon for the Greek word for "perfected," on blueletterbible.org).

Our weakness allows Gods power to be manifest and shows that He is active, by working through us despite our weakness. To ever imply that weakness is sin or demonstrates lack of faith would be ridiculous. In fact it's what opens the doorway to use our faith. 

I don't think it means that our weaknesses will necessarily become strengths, either. We will never all be good at everything in this life. Never. There are people who seem like they can do it all, but what that means is their weaknesses are more "under the surface." They have them, no doubt, because we all do. We can't see what goes on behind the scenes or on the inside of a person. So, let's not compare ourselves to one another. 

It's all okay, though, because God will work in us and through us to make things happen, even if we never overcome our weaknesses in a visible way. He isn't limited by us except when we refuse to follow Him. 

 I'm not afraid to admit I'm the weakest of the weak in many areas. And I, too, will choose to boast in my weaknesses if that's what makes room for Him in me.

MY NAME IS ASHLEY AND I AM WEAK.

The Artist

I am a piece of rock

Marble to be exact

Freshly drawn up

Out of the dirt

The Artist stands back and waits

When the time is right

He blows across the surface

Wipes away the dirt

And sets to work

He sees inside of me

What He intends to bring forth 

The Artist chips me away

Carefully chisels 

(I do not like the chisel)

He removes what does not belong

The Artist steps back and waits

Again He approaches

Blows across the surface

Wipes away the dust

And sets to work

More chiseling

(I still do not like the chisel)

But I begin to see a glimpse

Of something taking shape,
Of what He's trying to bring forth

The Artist steps back and looks

And smiles

And waits

On and on it goes -

The chiseling, the blowing,

The wiping away of dirt and dust

He removes the bits of me

That do not belong

I thought some of those bits were rather nice.

What was wrong with that one over there? 

I feel exposed

And, the waiting

Why the long waiting?

Will it ever end?

What is He trying to bring forth?

But, the smiling -

That I like. It reassures.

He must see a glimpse now

Of what it is He intends to bring forth

Finally He steps back and looks 

Only a few minor adjustments remain 

The Artist now has a twinkle in His eye

He steps back and waits

When the time is right 

Carefully and lovingly

He sands away the final remains 

Of what does not belong

The artist steps back

And smiles

(I think I see a tear)

He calls for His friends

To come and see what has been wrought

From this piece of rock

Once rough and covered with dirt

It now stands in completion

In perfection

It's what He always intended to bring forth
It's what He saw inside all along:

I'm pure white marble, made in the image of His Son.

I am perfect.

I am clean.

I am amazed.

And it was worth the pain.

This is not my normal flow, y'all and I really can't even believe I'm putting this out there. I started writing this, mentally, yesterday morning. Interestingly, last night someone shared Isaiah 51:1, which I don't recall seeing before. I'm sure I've read it and glossed over it before, but given what I was "writing," it caught my attention. Though it's written to Israel, the entire chapter encouraged my heart, specifically.

Isaiah 51:1 says, "Listen to me, you who pursue godliness, who seek the Lord! Look at the rock from which you were chiseled, at the quarry from which you were dug!" (Isaiah 51:1 NET)

Signs and Wonders of a Different Kind

There's a verse in Revelation that gets quoted a lot in certain Christian circles. It goes like this:

"They overcame him [the devil, who is called, "the accuser of the brethren" here] by the blood of the lamb and the word of their testimony..."

I've heard it quoted often and it's generally used as a victory/battle cry kind of a thing. That's great. It's even true.

What really struck me a few years ago, however, was the second half of that particular verse, that usually is omitted, which adds:

"...and they did not love their lives so much as to shrink from death."

Upon further reading I realized that the "overcomers" were dead, y'all. Wait a minute. The ones who overcame were killed. So, how did they overcome then? It really caused me to stop and think about my definition of what it means to overcome difficulties.

Many times we say someone overcame a situation when they came out victorious, according to our definition of victory. A person is wrongly accused of something and found innocent. Another person gets a cancer diagnosis and is either miraculously healed or cured through medicine. Nadal comes back from a serious injury to win the US Open. That is a big deal. All these people did, indeed, overcome.

But there's an overcoming of a different kind, and it's the kind Scripture is teaching us about here, and the kind it teaches us about most often, I believe. Jesus guaranteed us that we would have trouble in this world, but He said, "Fear not, for I have overcome the world."

He has already overcome the world by living a sinless life, laying that life down sacrificially and then picking it back up, making a spectacle of the accuser of the brethren. That's why Revelation says they overcame by the blood of the lamb. That was His part of the equation.

He does His part, but we still have our part to do. There are things under our control and for those we are responsible. Our part is to maintain our testimony that God is good, that we trust Him, that we love Him, that we belong to Him, to the point of death if necessary. Our part is to never give up and never turn our backs on the One who didn't turn His back on us.

I'm telling you it is a sign and a wonder when a follower of Christ stands firm under tribulation and trouble. When Chinese believers risk death to meet together because they have fallen so in love with God. When a former Muslim is tortured and burned and will not disown Jesus. That is overcoming.

Those are the more obvious examples, but I'd take it even further. I think that any time we continue to choose to persevere we overcome. Again, Jesus has done His part, but we must do ours.

Miraculous healings and divine interventions are signs and wonders. But I believe there are signs and wonders (so to speak) of a different kind, as well.

It is a sign and a wonder when a wife stays with a husband who has been unfaithful. Or when a couple keeps plowing through a difficult* marriage, because both sets of people believe God is trustworthy to meet all their needs. They are overcoming.

It is a sign and a wonder when a parent loses a child and still worships the Lord. It doesn't mean they don't ask questions and grieve, but the one that keeps saying, "nevertheless I am not ashamed, for I know whom I have believed and am persuaded that He is able to keep what I have committed to Him until that Day," is overcoming.

It is a sign and a wonder when you find yourself in confusing circumstances -when you've obeyed God and things are genuinely hard - and you keep following, obeying and trusting.

It is a sign and a wonder when a woman gets a cancer diagnosis that's not optimistic, and she never loses her faith. When she lifts her weak, feeble, hands in worship in a hospital bed, with tubes coming out from everywhere, she is holding fast to her testimony that God is good. And she makes a spectacle of the enemy of her soul who tries to bring discouragement and feelings of abandonment. She is overcoming cancer.

When we choose to press on, to never give up, to never turn our backs on God, who didn't turn His back on us, we are overcomers. Whatever that looks like. We all have things to overcome and situations along the way that challenge our faith and endurance.

But we must endure, we must never give up. The day will come that it will all seem like light and momentary suffering, as Paul said, though now it may seem like endless misery. Just know that He sees and He honors those who continue to trust Him and who accept that His ways are good.

Believer in Christ, it is in you to be an overcomer. You win.



*Notice I didn't say abusive, but, rather, difficult. Just to clarify.

I'm Coming For You, Wherever You Go

There are two main "faces" of God, that when I think on them or sing about them, bring me instantly to tears - two parts of His character that really stir my emotion.

One is His majesty - the imagery of the throne room in heaven with the sea of glass and the colors and the lightning and thunder and the promise that one day all things will be set to right. That moves me.

The other one is God as a good Father - His parenting of His people. For example, this from chapter 4 of the book of Hosea:

“When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son. But the more they were called, the more they went away from me. They sacrificed to the Baals and they burned incense to images. It was I who taught Ephraim to walk, taking them by the arms; but they did not realize it was I who healed them. I led them with cords of human kindness, with ties of love. To them I was like one who lifts a little child to the cheek, and I bent down to feed them. My people are determined to turn from me. Even though they call me God Most High, I will by no means exalt them. “How can I give you up, Ephraim? How can I hand you over, Israel? How can I treat you like Admah? How can I make you like Zeboyim? My heart is changed within me; all my compassion is aroused. I will not carry out my fierce anger, nor will I devastate Ephraim again. For I am God, and not a man— the Holy One among you. I will not come against their cities. They will follow the Lord; he will roar like a lion. When he roars, his children will come trembling from the west. They will come from Egypt, trembling like sparrows, from Assyria, fluttering like doves. I will settle them in their homes,” declares the Lord. (Hosea 11:1-4, 7-11 NIV)

Do you see that? I think it's because I have children and I have held their arms while they learned to walk. I'm a very visual person and I can see huge, strong hands holding the chubby arms of a toddler, just trying to take the next step without falling flat. I have felt compassion on my children, even when they rebel against me. I don't enjoy discipline. And neither does the Lord. Sometimes it's necessary but His heart is always for us to turn back toward Him.

In the same way any good parent will pursue a child who is going astray, in the way that a loving mom or dad refuses to give up on a child that seems hopeless - in that same way God loves us. And more. If you get lost, overwhelmed, feel hopeless, confused, depressed, angry, make a huge mistake, etc, He will come for you. Of course our part is to turn (aka repent).

This song (below) has so ministered to my heart recently. If I've listened to it once I've listened a hundred times. Take a few minutes to really listen. My favorite line is this:

"Wrestling angels till dawn breaks through,

There's a blessing in the wound,

and you're running, you're running from it."

When we wrestle through our problems with the Lord, it can be painful, but there's a blessing in it if we don't run away. I love the way she repeats, "I'm coming for you. I'm coming for you, wherever you go." That's the determination of a parent, and it's but a reflection of the heart of God.

These are the lyrics in full (well, mostly):

There's a train leaving your heart tonight,

There's a silence inside your head 

and you're running, you're running from it. 

 

Down the tracks on a midnight line, 

There's a red moon in the sky 

and you're running, you're running from it. 

 

But I'm coming for you wherever you go. 

I'm coming for you, I'm coming for you,

Wherever you go.

Wrestling angels till dawn breaks through 

There's a blessing in the wound 

and you're running, you're running from it. 

 

When all your demons are at your door 

It's a soldier they're looking 

and you're running, you're running from it. 

 

But I'm coming for you wherever you go. 

I'm coming for you, I'm coming for you wherever you go.

 

Across the sea, 

the space between everything you think you know 

 the things you keep and bury deep 

underneath the melting snow 

 I'll follow.  

 

Fathers & mothers don't always come through 

But I'm never gonna stop following you 

Prophets and lovers don't always hold true 

But I'm never gonna stop falling for you 

 

So when your wine's all gone and your well runs dry, 

Open your hands and look into my eyes; all that you see here, 

You'll soon leave behind, so open your hands and look into my eyes.

 

I'm coming for you, I'm coming for you,

Wherever you go.

 

The End?

You know that figure of speech about coming to the end of oneself? Someone will say something like, "I finally came to the end of myself."

I've said it before. Here's the thing: I've come to the end of myself. Several times. Which means, guess what: I haven't come to the end of myself yet. And guess what else. We never will, in this lifetime, come to the proverbial ends of ourselves.

I feel like I'm in a relay race, where I finish one leg of the race, only to pass the baton off to myself again, to start another leg. When the apostle Paul talked about running the race with endurance, maybe it wasn't a marathon, so much as a relay. 

Hopefully, when I've come to the end of one leg of my race, I am passing the baton off to a stronger, faster version of myself, able to endure and persevere through the next leg. That is, perhaps, the measure of success. It's about becoming better, more like Christ. It's a becoming not a finally-finishing. 

Maybe holiness is simply enduring and running and never giving up, rather than arriving at "our testimony." You know, the one where we tell about how we used to be that way, but now, finally, Christ has done His work and we are this way. Whew...it was tough, but I made it. Finally.

That day will come, of course. Eventually. But for now, it isn't even the point. The point now is to "throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart...Therefore, strengthen your feeble arms and weak knees. 'Make level paths for your feet,' so that the lame may not be disabled, but rather healed." (Hebrews 12)

The point now is RUN.