All in Hope
Until several years ago, I had a complete set of china dinnerware. In spite of moving households every few years, each fragile piece remained perfectly intact. Then as I packed the dishes one last time, a tea cup slipped from my fingers and broke in two pieces. My spirit was crushed in disappointment.
It looked simple enough on the box. Let’s face it, how hard it is to do a 300-piece jigsaw puzzle? Boy, was I wrong in my assumption! I dumped the pieces on the table, and the colors were so alike.
I don’t know what made me notice the article about birds. But as I scrolled through it, the author said something that caught my eye--birds continue to sing through the pain of a broken wing. The main reason researchers think they do this is to keep predators away.
Pain and loss have deep purpose in Kingdom work. We don’t simply move through lament, find healing, and consider it the end. We should ask the Lord, “What have I learned? What do I do now with this experience?”
When we faithfully practice lament, diligently search the Scriptures, and incorporate Scripture into our prayers, we unlock the experience of profound peace. This is an experienced peace—not the resolution of every “why,” nor the sudden release of burdens that may have weighed on our hearts for years.
In lamenting, after naming your pain and honestly telling God how you feel about difficult or disappointing life experiences, the next step is anchoring yourself in Scripture. Our feelings are real and must be acknowledged, but Truth always steadies us more than emotion ever can. To do this well, we must know God’s Word and apply it.
In recent years, the topic of biblical lament has surfaced in teaching and writing. About two years ago, I began exploring it myself and realized there was something deep within me I needed to face—something I had pushed aside instead of bringing honestly before the Lord. How do you we well? What does healthy lament really look like?
I stood at the window of the drivers’ license bureau, feeling confident I had all the information I needed. When my number was called, I was ready. I could finally check renewing my drivers’ license off my to do list. The lady behind the counter barely looking at me said, “License and birth certificate, please.”
I love all beach sunrises—even the gray ones—because… well, we’re at the beach. But my absolute favorite is when sunshine and clouds meet. There’s nothing quite like the beauty of colors revealed as sunlight breaks through the clouds. Only a Creator God could design something so breathtaking.
I am in the sandwich generation. Do you know what that means? If you have lived it, you do. I am in the season of life where I have aging parents on one side of me and on the other side of me, I have young adult children with small children. As a result, I am sandwiched by the two generations. It is a privilege to serve both sides! But sometimes, it can get a little busy, with so many ways to help and serve others.
In 95 A.D. the apostle John, exiled on the isle of Patmos, was given a peek into the forever Heaven—after the return of Christ, after the “lake of fire” (20:14), when God will make His dwelling place with the redeemed (20:3).
I am a very sentimental person. One item that is very dear to me is a Raggedy Ann doll. It was a birthday present from my dad when I turned four. I loved Raggedy Ann as a child. My room even had Raggedy Ann drapes, until I got too cool for the drapes. But not the doll.
Staring at the lab reports, the doctor said, “I just don’t know what to do to help you. Nothing makes sense to me.” He had been studying my condition and found there are several forms of Stiff Person Syndrome (SPS). The first step is to determine which one I have. “You are stable now,” he added, “but time is of the essence.”
When my daughter was young, she had a princess birthday party. Each child was given one of those free cardboard crowns from Burger King. Something about a crown makes us feel special, even a cardboard one.