Thanksgiving this year took on new meaning for our family. As most of you know by now, we went to the doctor on Monday (11/20) for a routine ultrasound and to find out the gender of our baby. The technician was unable to find a heartbeat and we ultimately found out that we had lost the baby sometime since Erica's last appointment (between her 13 week check-up where she heard the heartbeat and the 17 1/2 week ultrasound). While this has happened to many couples, it doesn't necessarily make it any easier to go through. The ensuing hours and days seem like a blur now, but the fact that it was "thanksgiving" week was a constant reminder to us that a very important aspect of the Christian worldview is the recognition that we rejoice and give thanks to God even when things happen in our lives that we would not have chosen for ourselves. In other words, Christians don't (or shouldn't) change their tune about how great God is when things like this happen. We recognize that God still does all things well. Some might call that blind faith, but it might be better termed "complete" faith since believers are expected to have the kind of faith that doesn't reserve the right to call God out when we think he messed up. That's not to say that either of us did this perfectly, nor does it mean that we will never falter in the future, but, ultimately, it's good to know that none of our changefulness will negate the character of God.
Reflecting on the past two weeks, there are a few verses that have come to the forefront of our thinking on several occasions. Erica had been working on memorizing the first chapter of James since that is what her Bible study group at church has been studying. I had been thinking these verses in the wake of the news, and several people have written them in cards. The verses come from the first chapter of James (vv. 2-4):
"Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, 3 because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. 4 Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything."
Sometimes, we want to know why, why, why-what is the purpose? Why did this happen? And while our minds can come up with possible reasons, we have objective revelation that tells us simply that trials produce perseverance. So we're going to stick with that and try to persevere.
These words are reflective of the attitude we hope our hearts "choose to say":
Blessed be Your name
When the sun's shining down on me
When the world's all as it should be
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be Your name
On the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name
You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord, blessed be Your name
Let me tell you just a little bit about her. She was born in 1927 and contracted polio when she was very young. In fact, by the time she was 3 she would never walk again, and she has been in leg braces and walked with crutches ever since. She was married to my grandfather, Philip, for 56 years. They weren’t sure if she would ever have children, but she had 3, not to mention 4 grandchildren and 1 great-grandchild. She moved with my grandfather to Virginia soon after they were married as he had taken the pastorate of a small country church. My grandmother was not babied by her parents when they learned she had polio. Growing up she had to do her chores just like everyone else including scrubbing the floor on her hands--she would drag herself across the floor to get the job done. That kind of upbringing prepared her to do the things she needed to do as a wife and mother in somewhat difficult rural circumstances (running water wasn’t always a given in that area). She was able to scoot up and down the stairs to do the laundry, dragging a basket as she went, and she was never afraid to try anything like baseball (hitting only of course) and even sledding in the winter. My grandmother lived with cancer for many years, post-polio complications, and chronic pain due to a steel rod that had been placed in her back decades ago to keep her spine straight. Her last few months were spent at a Mennonite care facility in Pennsylvania. My grandmother wasn’t perfect and all I’ve said doesn’t mean there were no mistakes or less than desirable circumstances at the end of her life. But she was a remarkable and determined woman, and needless to say, she endured a lot more physical suffering and hardship in life than many of us have or will. And I can honestly say that she did it without complaining. That isn’t hyperbole-she just didn’t ever complain.
I’ve been reflecting a lot since we returned from Pennsylvania, and I was struck with this thought. As much as my grandmother suffered in life, and as glad as we are for her to be free of suffering forever, I don’t think that’s the chief thing on her mind right now. Yes, Christians have the hope of an eternity without pain, suffering, tears, inequity, disappointment, frustration, and all the other things that taint literally every second of the human existence. But I don’t think the first thing my grandmother did when she opened her eyes was look at her now-braceless and fully functioning legs in delight.
I think she opened her eyes and looked at Jesus and delighted in him. After all, isn’t he what heaven is really about? My pastor has said on several occasions that heaven is not primarily about the streets of gold and the pearly gates and the “Mansion Over the Hilltop” (that’s a rough paraphrase). In fact, if all those things were there, but God wasn’t, it wouldn’t be heaven. Heaven is about GOD! It’s about Jesus! It’s about truly unbroken fellowship for the first time in our existence with the one who created us. Heaven is heaven because of WHO not WHAT is there. It’s not an eternal Rodeo Drive that will fulfill our every want for all eternity. We can and should be happy about all that eternity offers, but I think our first joy will always be in the one who in mercy gave his life for us and who in mercy has given all kinds of blessings to those who have believed in him. Being with him is, indeed, the greatest reward one could ever hope for. And I couldn’t be happier for her.
