Hi Sweet Friends,
My family has experienced some life-changers this past week that I wanted to share with you. We had the wedding of our beloved daughter and the funeral of Kevin’s beloved mother within three days of each other. Kevin’s mom took her final breath the night before the rehearsal dinner. She wanted to be at the wedding. We all wanted her to be at the wedding. We had extreme emotions going on at the same time: unspeakable joy and unspeakable grief. And yet, is not God in both? Do both not reveal the character of God and His heart for us? Do both not reveal what our hearts believe is true about Him? I can testify boldly to the grace and goodness of God because I’ve seen it, experienced it, and lived it. But please know that the grace and goodness and love of God are true whether I recognize it or not. It’s not my experience that legitimizes the truth about God, but rather the truth about God legitimizes my experience. I can see the truth about God in every circumstance and emotion because His character never changes. His love and work on my behalf and for my good are constant, regardless of my experience. Psalm 100:5 tells us, “For the Lord is good. His unfailing love continues forever, and his faithfulness continues to each generation.” Kevin and I are middle men. We are between the generations of our parents and our children. We find ourselves needed by both, and blessedly so. We have seen the provision of God in each generation. And not just when life was sweet and it felt good to be alive and sing praises to our Maker; but also when darkness covered our hearts, and it was hard to breathe, and we struggled to remember whose we were. He is God of both, and again, blessedly so.
Kevin’s mom had a neurological disease that slowly took the capability of her body to do her bidding. Her mind stayed clear while her body became more and more debilitated. We watched. We prayed. We begged. We grieved. We hurt for her and for the loss of her to us. God asked something very hard of her. He asked her to glorify Him in suffering and loss. He entrusted her with pain and asked her to steward it well, and that’s exactly what she did. Her precious caregivers helped her volunteer at the Boys and Girls Club. She went to listen to the children read and to play board games. She showed up at her grandchildren’s ballgames. She continued to go to church and social events and meet with friends. She continued to eat out even though it meant someone was feeding her and keeping her clean in public. She had her caregivers dress her up like a clown last Thanksgiving because she knew it would make us laugh. It did. She loved. She prayed. She just kept living and giving testimony to the goodness and grace of God as her body withered. After she passed, we had ten hours of visitation at the church to allow people to honor her and love her family. In all that time, there was seldom a lull, just people lined up waiting patiently to tell the family what my dear mother-in-law meant to them. There was testimony after testimony of how she had reached out to welcome and include newcomers, of how people’s lives were drawn to the Lord because of her faithfulness and love, and of how her kindness and selflessness changed the world. Many times I heard people say they wanted to be like her. I was one of them. Kevin’s sweet mom glorified God in her death because she glorified Him in her life. Her refusal to complain, be angry, shake her fist at God and say, “How dare you,” or drown in self-pity painted a beautiful picture of the character of God. She refused to believe the lies from the enemy that he persistently shot at her. She had laid down her will, her rights, her demands that life go a certain way and simply said, “If it is God’s will.” I feel like a quote from Elizabeth Elliot beautifully describes my mother-in-law’s heart and disposition: “This job has been given to me to do. Therefore, it is a gift. Therefore, it is a privilege. Therefore, it is an offering I may make to God. Therefore, it is to be done gladly if it is done for Him. Here, not somewhere else, I may learn God’s way. In this job, not in some other, God looks for faithfulness.” Pat Gaunce knew that there are purposes and stories going on beyond her understanding. She had a part to play in God’s story, and she nailed it. Such suffering. Such joy. Such hope. Such glory.
The wedding of my daughter felt like a movie I was watching. I had a hard time discerning my emotions. Such joy and dreams come true, so why the ache? It is indeed the end of something precious and dear, but it is also the beginning of something glorious. It wasn’t luck or good timing that caused Hannah and Nick to find each other on a medical mission trip to Brazil. It was God faithfully orchestrating and directing their lives. As I watched Kevin escort Hannah through an arbor in a beautiful garden, something spiritual overwhelmed me. I caught a glimpse for a moment of us as believers being the bride of Christ. Those had always been sort of unrelatable words to me until this moment. The love and longing and sacrificial selflessness that my daughter and her beloved have for one another is such a beautiful picture of Christ’s love for us. I long to have that same love for Him, to be presented to Him unblemished, with no other loves occupying His place in my heart, no competing passions, no holding back from being one and united with Him. When a bride and groom say “yes” to each other, they have said “no” to every other love on earth. Everything and every person and every relationship is now filtered through the grid of that one relationship, and it is fiercely guarded. They will work and play and minister and love others and make decisions based on their relationship. That is the relationship I want with Jesus. Everything in my life now is for His sake, His glory, to achieve His purposes. I’m no longer living for myself, clawing and grabbing at what I feel like I must have. Jesus sacrificed all to have me. By saying “yes” to Him I have said “no” to all other loves. There is no competition for my affections. I belong to Him. It’s no longer about me. All of life is now a picture and example of our relationship with God and His love for us. But what do I do with the hurt of my daughter no longer being a child in our home? I remember the bigger story and what we’re called to. In the wedding ceremony, Kevin shared with us the words of Jim Elliott to his parents when he was leaving for the mission field in the 1950’s. “Grieve not, then if your sons seem to desert you, but rejoice, rather, seeing the will of God done gladly. Remember how the Psalmist described children? He said that they were as a heritage from the Lord, and that every man should be happy who had his quiver full of them. And what is a quiver full of but arrows? And what are arrows for but to shoot? So, with the strong arms of prayer, draw the bowstring back and let the arrows fly – all of them, straight at the Enemy’s hosts.” And so the next generation begins their part in God’s big story. Soon it will be their turn to “…tell the next generation the praiseworthy deeds of the Lord, His power, and the wonders He has done.” (Psalm 78:4)
God is faithful to each generation. Lord, make us likewise faithful. We’ve each been given a spot here, a time. It’s not so we can be happy and comfortable and prosperous, even though those are great things and I want them. They’re just not the greatest things. We are stewards of the gospel, keepers of the flame. While we are here, it is our turn to show the heart of God to the world. I heard Kevin present the gospel at His mother’s funeral and his daughter’s wedding. I heard him urge everyone to not miss why we’re here. “Please, don’t miss Jesus.” May that be our generation’s cry. In joy, in grief, God is over all. And His grace is sufficient. He promises.
I witnessed the best in humanity and saw the image of God this last week in the joining of hearts and lives in love and purpose for the kingdom, the victory over death bought by Jesus in the celebration of the home-going of a precious believing soul, the sacrifices of sweet friends who gave hours of their time to be by our sides in our life’s most tender moments, the sweet testimonies of people who had been loved well, the tender face of little Mrs. Carter as she recalled praying with Kevin to accept Christ when he was seven years old, the classmates now in their 80’s who had started first grade with Kevin’s dad and just wanted to come say, “You matter. You are valuable to me. You are worth the sacrifice.” So humbling. So precious. It is an earthly revelation of the heart of God for us. As Jesus said in Luke 10, “Go and do likewise.”
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