LAMENTING IN THE GOOD LIFE
This past week I listened to two sermons from the book of Psalms that were sweet manna for a weary soul. I have also been reading Elisabeth Elliot's book, Suffering is Never for Nothing. Through each of those, I have found myself reflecting on the goodness of God in both current and past affliction. I was reminded, yet again, that suffering is a good gift from a good and faithful Father. He is good and does good (Psalm 119:68). However, my response to God's goodness in affliction is often a tangled assortment of joyful songs of praise and tearful dirges of lament.
I love Kara Tippetts' story of grace. Below is a quote from her book,
That the story of breast cancer could possibly be a good story? A great story even? It would be easier to shake my fist at the test results and scream that this isn’t the right story, but to receive—humbly receive—the story no one would ever want, and know there is goodness in the midst of its horror, is not something I could ever do in my own strength. I simply cannot. That receiving comes from the One who received His own suffering for a much greater purpose than my own.
Who would ever consider the death sentence of breast cancer to be a good gift from a good Father? Who would ever consider leaving behind a husband and four small children a good gift?
How can we make sense of the unfairness and pain of this mortal life? Who can provide the justice that our hearts long for? Who can make sense of all the wrong? Has God forsaken us? Has He withdrawn His favor? From where does our help come from?
Our help comes from the LORD,
the Maker of heaven and earth.
Psalm 121:1-2
God has been faithfully and painfully working good in my life for almost 5 decades. Though (shamefully) I often pout, fret, and shake my fist at God in the midst of them, I know trials are for my good. Why? Because they are drawing me closer to God, and the nearness of God is GOOD!
I have tasted and seen God's goodness and faithfulness in two of our adoption stories. As I share these stories, I pray you will see a good Father that writes good stories. I pray that you will see His glory and grace unfold in a melodic hymn of faithfulness. For He is the author and perfecter of our faith, the lyricist of a trillion hymns of praise!
But I will sing of your strength, in the morning I will sing of your love;
for you are my fortress, my refuge in times of trouble.
Psalm 59:16
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This year, my husband and I will be celebrating 25 years of marriage! As newlyweds, we were young and bright eyed, eager to start a family and serve the church through pastoral ministry. Yet, for seven years we wrestled through infertility. Tearfully, we watched everyone around us welcome new babies year after year as we mourned over hundreds of single-lined pregnancy tests. Then, on August 17, 2004 (exactly 7 years and 1 day after getting married) the Lord blessed us with a baby girl, Lydia Grace. She was born to a 16-year-old girl in Cincinnati, Ohio, and though her adoption story is wonderfully glorious, it is not the one that I will be sharing today.
Summer of 2007
After several years of
battling with severe endometriosis, we prayerfully made the decision to undergo a
complete hysterectomy. It was an extremely difficult decision to make. I feared
that I was being faithless and limiting God by having this surgery. We had spent years praying for healing & biological children. A hysterectomy would
permanently shut the door for God to do a great and miraculous work. As I laid
on the pre-op table, waiting for the surgeons to arrive, I could not stop crying.
My heart was full of fear, agony, questions, and even anger."God, this is NOT my story!"
The recovery that
summer was painfully long. Pouring through my Bible, desperate for crumbs from
the Master’s table, the Lord began His healing work.
This is my comfort in my misery,
that Your word has revived me.
Psalm 119:50
Journal entry from July 30, 2007
Spiritually . . . I have had an abundance of time in the Word. I have been journaling daily God’s promises, and I have been greatly humbled to see how He has addressed specific fears and questions that I have been struggling through. I am learning a great deal about on what it means to walk by FAITH. What a blessing it has been to spend this intimate time with the Father.
Emotionally . . . There are days where I feel as if I have been swallowed up in a sea of death. I often think of the words of Jonah as he plunged to the bottom of the sea (2:5-6): "Water encompassed me to the point of death. The great deep engulfed me, weeds were wrapped around my head. I descended to the roots of the mountains. The earth with its bars {was} around me forever."
I cry a lot. I cry every time I think about what has happened – I had a hysterectomy. It seems like a nightmare. Surely this has not happened. Did I really make the decision, by choice, to have this surgery? Am I really void of all reproductive parts? What have I done? What is happening to my body? Would God allow me to make the wrong decision?
Have you ever experienced that kind of darkness? Have you ever felt the raging waves of doubt and
despair? Have you been tempted to question God's faithfulness and goodness?
Journal entry continues
I am, however, cautious about clinging to the hope that God will give us more children, as so many people have been encouraging us in this manner. I am reminded of Peter, when he rebuked Jesus for saying that He would have to suffer and die. And then Jesus said to Peter (a beloved brother), “Get behind me, Satan, for you have your own interests in mind, and not God’s.” I pray that as I mourn and deal with the loss of my womb, that I will not leap from one stronghold (the hope of getting pregnant) to another (the hope that God will give us more children through adoption.) The hope that God has given me has not been His promise to give me more children. Rather, the hope I have is that I am, and will forever be, satisfied in Christ alone. He is (and must be) my hope and ultimate joy.
I do not have all the answers right now. In fact, I may never know the full extent of God’s will and glory in this situation. But I do know that I am running “the race” (the imagery Paul so often uses in his letters to the New Testament churches); and I want to feel every ache and cramp along the way (and not just brush it away with a short afternoon cry). God IS at work in me. I want to feel the sting of my tears and I want time to hurt. How much time (as folks often want to know)? I don’t know. I DO know that I do not want to miss a single drop of what God wants to teach me, and how He wants to comfort me as I mourn, for I feel His presence every day through this trial. The trials that have made the greatest impact on my life have been those times where I have struggled long and deep.
One of the two sermons that ministered to my soul this week was preached by Pastor Nathan Sawyer from Grace Church Memphis. His sermon was on Psalm 77. In fact, it was this sermon that compelled me to finally
put (proverbially) pen to paper on what the Lord did, and is still doing, in my heart through two of our adoption stories. Pastor Nathan said the following about lament: Lament is
defined as a passionate expression of grief or sorrow or an honest conversation
with God through our suffering and pain. Lament is a prayer of pain in the
midst of suffering that leads us to trust in God. It is a prayer for help that expresses confidence in God. Days of trouble and wearisome
nights give opportunity for us to flesh out our theology of God, and lament
helps us connect these dots.
In suffering, it is good to lament. After my hysterectomy, I needed time to lament. I needed
time to ask honest questions. I needed to be reminded that I CAN trust in God's loving watch care. Because of His faithfulness and goodness, He is trustworthy. He is the most trustworthy person in the universe!
Know therefore that the Lord your God,
He is God, the faithful God,
who keeps His covenant and His faithfulness
to a thousand generations...
Deuteronomy 7:9
Journal entry continues
A life in Christ Jesus can be GLORIOUSLY painful. And though I see with such dim, tear-filled vision at the moment, I know that one day I will see how all of this was indeed the most gracious, and loving gift, my heavenly Father could give to me.
Lord, help me to proclaim the praises of Jonah (2:6-9): "But You have brought up my life from the pit, O LORD my God. While I was fainting away, I remembered the LORD, and my prayer came to You, into Your holy temple. Those who regard vain idols forsake their faithfulness, but I will sacrifice to You with the voice of thanksgiving. That which I have vowed I will pay. Salvation is from the LORD."
God be
praised for an empty womb
that caused my heart to worship!
As I began regaining strength, I prayed, "Here I am, Lord, send me!"
That summer the Lord began a stirring in my heart. My eyes finally opened to see all the needs around me. Everywhere I looked I saw opportunities to give and serve.
Back in 2007,
Craigslist was a big deal. Many folks used Craigslist to sell, advertise, or
ask for help. (It was a personal family favorite, for most of our house was
furnished by it!) One day, I saw an ad from a lady who needed clothes for a job interview. Timidly, I picked up the phone and called her. "Hello, Rachel? I saw your ad for help." With sizes in hand, my husband and I jetted off to the store for clothes and dinner (even though she had not asked for food). Approaching her second floor apartment, I was filled with both excitement and fear. As she opened the door and welcomed us in, we were shocked to discover that the only items
she and her 5-year-old daughter had in the apartment were a mattress and a blanket. They literally had nothing.
We sat with our
new friend, Rachel, and her daughter that evening and listened to their story. It was a story full of pain and grief. Our hearts broke for them. We left that night telling
them that God was going to do something big! We also told her that we would be
back the following day with household items and rent money. (She was about to be evicted from her apartment.) The next evening,
multiple families from our church (with cars loaded with toys, food, clothes,
household supplies, cash, and more) headed over to Rachel’s apartment. I wish you
could have seen Rachel’s face when she opened the door! She was FILLED with joy,
brokenness, and tears! She could not stop rejoicing in the Lord that night as
person after person filed into her apartment with goodies that were now hers to
keep. Weeks later she came to our church. She shared that she had contemplated
killing herself the night before we came, but God rescued her! God saved her and
her daughter.
In God's goodness & faithfulness, He continued to supply family after family who were in need. Being that we
were a short drive from Fort Hood (one of the largest military bases in the US), we
received a lot of requests from young gals who were pregnant and alone. (Most
of their husbands were overseas fighting in Iraq.) Our little church began collecting
baby items for military families - anything from diapers and formula, to cribs, clothing,
and strollers. We sat in many living rooms putting together baby furniture - laughing, listening, and sharing the Gospel with young mothers from all over the United States.
Of the dozens
of times that we gave away baby stuff, I could NOT bring myself to donate the items that had belonged to our daughter, Lydia - all of which had been meticulously stored away in our attic for a future child.
I had given away our living room furniture, beds, clothes, and money for mortgage
payments (to name a few), but I could NOT give away what had once been used by Lydia. I just
couldn’t. Then we received a desperate call for a family in need. They had just brought home a baby, and they had nothing for her. I knew right away that it was finally
time to let go of those boxed up dreams in the attic. This little baby girl was
going to be blessed with the best - my best.
That evening
our church filled this family’s apartment with every item they could need.
What was missed was quickly supplied the following day. As folks were
in the second bedroom putting together a toddler bed for their two-year-old little boy, I went to the master bedroom
to put together Lydia’s crib for their baby girl. I wanted to make sure that everything looked
perfect! This little girl was going to have everything that I had for my little
girl. I couldn’t help but smile and rejoice in the goodness and faithfulness of
the Lord to this family.
The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few.
Matthew 9:37
That year we
were able to bless many needy families in our area. We were able to share the
love of God in many wonderful ways through our church’s Mercy Ministry. I will always
remember that sweet season of God multiplying loaves & fish so we could
feed the multitude. God opened my near-sighted eyes to see the needs that were all
around me. It was also during that same year that my husband and I became certified foster
parents. With the Mercy Ministry in full swing, God was about to open the door
for even greater opportunities of service and faith.
We received a
call on April 1, 2008, from CPS for our first placement. They had a brother and
sister who needed a temporary foster home. (Providentially, Lydia had JUST
prayed that morning asking God to give her “a brother AND a sister”.) As we walked out the front door, we watched two social workers exit their car with two small, sickly-looking children. I instantly recognized them! You see, it was the little boy and girl we had helped a few months back. This little girl was the child who received Lydia’s baby items!
We were foster parents to this “brother
and sister” for exactly 9 months. It was not an easy 9 months …
most of which felt like birthing pains! (You can read more about their eventful story HERE.) But, after 9
months of drug detox, 2 rounds of lice, ringworm, malnutrition, ear infections, rotten teeth, sleepless nights, bonding issues, discipline issues, adjustments, hardships, tears, and heartache mingled with pure joy … we adopted
them. In God’s goodness and faithfulness, He gave us a son and another daughter. He answered our prayers of lament, and we began a new chapter in His GOOD story for our family.
We gave
Abby, our new daughter, the middle name, “Faith” as a reminder of God’s
faithfulness that year. He alone is faithful and good.
But the Lord is faithful
2 Thessalonians 3:3
Fast forward
to the summer of 2012
During the summer of
2012, we were blessed with another adoption opportunity. We received a phone
call from a friend that knew a gal who was pregnant, homeless, and addicted to heroin.
She wanted to give her baby up for adoption. After a few phone conversations
with the birth mom, she asked us to adopt her child! We quickly began the process
(again) of going through the hundreds of things that need to be completed to
adopt a child - homestudy, finger printing, first aid training, background
checks, health checks, family interviews, and more. We had less than 3 months to get everything done.
Journal entry
On Sunday morning, October 21, we received the call. I was at home taking care of BJ’s dad (who was bedridden at the time), and BJ was with the kids at church getting ready to teach and preach. We were both in shock . . . the birth mother's water broke - a month early! That afternoon I took a flight out of Memphis. Three flights later I landed in Baltimore, Maryland, just shy of midnight. Some ladies I had never met picked me up at the airport and whisked me away to the hospital. And there the baby was . . . perfectly healthy and beautiful in every way.
On Thursday, October 25, the court granted temporary guardianship to our family. The baby left the hospital that day with me. The next day BJ and the kids arrived. We were all so excited to be together again with our newest member of the family. It was sheer bliss seeing the children hold this little one as they grinned from ear to ear. We felt blessed beyond words. Praise Him, praise Him!
Sunday, November 4, BJ received a call from our attorney stating that the birth father was contesting the adoption. Our hearts sunk. That was the end of it. This father did not want an adoption and there was absolutely nothing we could do (according to the state of Maryland). That day, we all sat on the bed and cried. Oh, how it broke my heart to see the children crying and asking, “But I thought you said we could take the baby home?” Little Abby, who had grown so fond of being a big sister, cried herself to sleep in my lap. I felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest. I wept and wept. Why God? Why get us this far just to take this baby away? Why do this to our children? Why God?
The next two nights I could not sleep. I laid awake feeding and holding this precious little child, pleading with God. All night long I would beg, Please God! Please God! In fact, I even tried to reason with God on how giving this child to us would bring Him more glory. Why else would so many people be involved with this adoption, praying for and supporting us? If He stopped it now, how would He receive the glory and fame due to His name? If He stopped it now, it would only discourage people from adopting. . . Please God! Please do something!
Soon BJ and the kids needed to get back home. I remained in
Maryland with our baby and Lydia. Each week we moved to a different hotel,
waiting for God to perform a miracle (to part a Red Sea), so we could return home. Every night I held
this tiny little baby on my chest to keep the cries from waking up sleepy hotel guests. Every
night, with tears, I begged for God’s mercy and pleaded for His help. Days and weeks passed.
It seemed like God had stopped listening. It felt as if He did not care.
I lift up my eyes to the hills.
From where does my help come?
Psalm 121:1
The week after Thanksgiving we received a call from our
attorney. The adoption had officially failed. The birth father, though he did not want to see
or take care of the child, refused to sign off on the adoption. In the state of
Maryland, there was simply nothing else we could do. We had to give the baby back to a homeless, drug-addicted birth mother. Even CPS would not get involved to place
the child in a safe home.
On Monday, November 26, after packing up all the baby stuff
we had accumulated from our time in Baltimore, I handed over everything, including our precious little daughter
(whom we named Miriam Hope), to a mother who did not want her. Lydia and I left
Maryland that day without our daughter. I had spent thirty-seven days in
Maryland (most of that without my family) and yet, God was sending me home
empty handed. That Monday was one of the worst days of my life.
What happened? Where was God? Why did He allow this to happen to our family?
I wrote the following on November 30, 2012
Sorrow
Merriam Webster defines SORROW as “deep distress, sadness, or regret especially for the loss of someone or something loved.”
You never know when sorrow will penetrate the heart. There will be moments when you don't feel the depths of distress and sadness and you begin to find normalcy again. You might even laugh at something silly or forget for a time all that has happened. But then, there are moments – completely unexpected – when all the emotions coming rushing back.
Today started off as a good day. I was laughing with the children. I enjoyed putting together one of my favorite puzzles. I did not feel weighed down with grief, but hopeful – HOPEFUL that Christ would help us through this. Then, I decided to read a book and lay down for a nap … I woke up a few times and was completely convinced that I was back in a hotel room caring for Miriam. Completely disorientated, I would sit up and look for her, but she was not there. And, after a minute or so, I would remember.
That past two days I have been surprised at the things that have triggered grief and sorrow...
- I wake up constantly in the night, tossing and turning, feeling like I need to get up, and I remember . . . I was up all night/every night with Miriam the past 32 days.
- I open the fridge and see leftovers that I did not make, and I remember . . . I was not here to feed my family because I was with Miriam in Maryland.
- I hear the cry of a baby on a cartoon that the kids are watching. My heart breaks, and I remember . . . It was Miriam's cry that I listened for day and night.
- I pick up my wash cloth in the shower and wonder if it's clean. It's dry, but I remember . . . It's dry because I was gone from home for a month with Miriam.
The pain, devastation,
and sorrow I felt in the weeks to follow was immense. I felt like Miriam had
been handed a death sentence. I felt like I had just buried a child. I questioned
God’s goodness. I saw nothing good or faithful in what God allowed to happen.
The second sermon that I heard this week was a sermon on Psalm 77 by Pastor Tim Cain. He shared an adoption story that is very
similar (if not almost identical) to ours. As I was listening to his sermon on
an early morning hike along the Wolf River Trail, I was profoundly impacted by God’s goodness & faithfulness. Pastor Tim spoke of the same pain and sorrow that we had felt. He shared
that he and his wife suffered a failed adoption - a sweet little girl named
Cynthia would never be their daughter. He recalled the agony of packing up all her belongings and delivering her to her birth father. Shortly after pulling away, he
and his wife pulled their car over to the side of the road and wept. He said he
could not get Psalm 77 out of his head as they cried and cried. Then, he took
his wife’s hand and said, “Beautiful, we have the good life. Right here. Right
now. We already have the good life.” It was at that moment that I felt like my
heart literally exploded. It didn’t merely explode because someone else could
identify with my pain; it exploded because (even 10 years out from this failed
adoption on a dusty trail in the middle of Memphis, Tennessee) I am reminded that the nearness of God IS the good life! How quickly
I forget that simple truth.
The nearness of God is the good life!
For over a year (after
losing Miriam) I would repeat the phrase, “God is faithful. God is faithful.” I
would say this over and over again … Why? Because (and it is hard to
confess this) my heart struggled to believe that God really was faithful. I
had to keep saying it until I truly believed it … “God IS faithful. God IS
faithful." And though it took well over a year of God's patience and unrelenting love, I finally began to believe and rejoice (again) in His faithfulness.
Despite the trials and pain of all the yesterdays, I was/am living the good life. In His faithfulness, He was/is always near ... He is my rock, my salvation, my fortress, my refuge.
You pen our GOOD stories from the foundation of time. Goodness and faithfulness adorn You! To You alone belongs all praise, glory, and honor! Thank you, Lord, for this GOOD life!
But as for me, the nearness of God is good for me;
I have made the Lord God my refuge,
so that I may tell of all Your works.
Psalm 73:28
___________________
To hear Pastor Nathan's sermon:
Psalm 77 - SUFFERING, GRIEF, and LAMENT
(8/25/2019)
To hear Pastor Tim Cain's sermon:
Psalm 73 - WHAT IS THE GOOD LIFE?
(11/10/2019)
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