Sadness and Joy

It seems there is so much sadness in the world lately. From the Boston Marathon bombings to the tornadoes that ripped through Shawnee and Moore, Oklahoma, it seems tragedy and loss are everywhere. It seems like on Facebook people are having to say goodbye to loved ones, where they be furry or people.

It can be overwhelming if you let it. The magnitude of pain around the world right now is massive. So many people are hurting, so many are suffering, so many seem like they have nothing to look forward to but more hurt and suffering.

But as callous and unfeeling as this may sound, you can still have joy. Joy is not a denial of what happened in Boston or Oklahoma. Joy doesn’t turn a blind eye toward those who have suffered and lost. Joy sees past the pain to the God who waits on the other side. The beautiful part is that God is on both sides of the pain and walking with you through it.

I love an illustration a pastor gave. Jesus isn’t limited by time and space, so he’s in your present with you. He’s also in your future, so that the promises he gave you are already as good as done. He’s in your past in that moment when you were wounded, ready to heal you so that your past wounds no longer bleed into your present. He’s in all three places at once.

I am convinced that sadness and joy can coexist. It’s only right to grieve what’s lost. But we don’t grieve as those who have no hope. We grieve with hope that one day God will set everything right and will restore a thousand-fold what we’ve lost or given up. We grieve as those who know that our troubles are only a blip on the radar screen compared to the glory that awaits and that what we suffer pales in comparison with the ultimate joy that awaits us.

So my heart aches for all those in pain tonight, but my heart rejoices that while there may be pain in the night, joy comes in the morning.

 

Treasuring the Time

I went to a Bible conference tonight. One of the last things the speaker talked about was losing his daughter.

He said that she loved Christmas and was the one who made it fun for everybody else. She always was the one to give out presents on Christmas Day and she loved giving far better than receiving.

But early this year, she died suddenly of a pulmonary embolism. No warning. No time to say goodbye. One moment she was here and the next, she was gone. That family’s Christmas will be very different this year.

That sobered me up a bit.

Life really is precious. We take for granted that not only we, but all those we love, will wake up tomorrow and we will be able to see them at the next holiday gathering. That goes for family and friends.

But tomorrows aren’t promised to anyone. Life is a gift, not an entitlement, and it is fleeing.

I have loved ones I wish I could go back and talk to one last time. I’d tell each of them how much I loved them and how much they meant to me and how I’ve missed them. But I can’t.

I can only say that to the ones still living.

Make a point to let the ones in your life know how much they mean to you. Be deliberate in telling your family and friends how much you love them and cherish them. Don’t assume that you’ll have tomorrow to tell them.

The best part of the Christmas story is that goodbyes aren’t forever anymore. One day, we will see the ones we have loved and missed all these years. One day God will wipe away every tear from our eyes. One day everything we’ve lost will be restored to us a thousand-fold.

Until then, live each day as a gift. Treasure the time you have and treasure the people around you, for you never know when they won’t be there.

 

Old Christmas Movies

 

One of the reasons I love this time of year (and there are many) is that I get to pull out my epic collection of Christmas movies and watch all my favorites again. Especially the old ones (meaning those made before I was born).

Don’t get me wrong. I’m a fan of the more recent holiday flicks, too. I love Home Alone, Scrooged, National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, and even the 90’s remake of Miracle on 34th Street.

But my heart truly belongs to the classics.

It’s not Christmas without seeing old films like The Bells of St. Mary’s or The Bishop’s Wife. I can’t really get into the festive mood of the season until I’ve seen White Christmas and It’s a Wonderful Life. Not forgetting lesser-known (but equally classic) movies like Christmas in Connecticut, A Holiday Affair, Holiday Inn, Remember the Night, and A Christmas Carol (any of the older ones are good, but I recommend the 1951 Alistair Sims version).

Maybe I like all these old movies because Christmas makes me nostalgic. I start missing my childhood and the people that I loved that are now gone. I miss the unadulterated excitement that Christmas brought that made me unable to sleep on Christmas Eve.

I know that the proper etiquette is to wait until Thanksgiving to start watching Christmas movies, but I say to that, “Balderdash!” I’m not waiting. Besides, that’s probably not even a real rule, just something I made up.

What old Christmas movies do you watch every year? And by old, I mean pre-1970. I discovered a couple of gems last year for the first time in Come to the Stable and It Happened on 5th Avenue, and I’m always looking for a good holiday classic.

So send me your recommendations. Email me at GMendel72@united.net or find me on facebook or send up smoke signals. Whatever works for you. Just let me know, ’cause enquiring minds want to know.

 

Baggage Part III: Trials Turned to Gold

I’ll admit that I am addicted to comfort too much of the time. I don’t want to step outside my comfort zone too often.

But I keep thinking about the believers in Thessalonica. They only had Paul and Silas for a few short weeks. They were new converts, yet they still managed to turn their world upside down.

The big takeaway for me was how they endured persecution and ridcule, but how that endurance and trial turned into perserverance. That perserverance turned into character, which led to a hope that nothing and no one and nothing could quench.

What you’re going through will end, but your story won’t. Who better to talk to someone struggling with alcoholism than a recovering alcoholic? Who better to help someone cope with the loss of a child than someone who has walked the same road and cried the same tears? Who better to help someone deal with doubt and discouragement than you after you’ve been through a dark night of the soul when you felt hopeless and alone, but finally saw daylight at the end of your trial?

I love the quote from a movie I saw that said that only those who have lost can truly lead. Only those who have been hurt can help bring healing. Only those who know how they have messed up their lives and what Jesus save them from can truly love well and lead well.

It’s all about loving well. It’s not how religious you can talk or how well you keep the rules. It’s not about how convincingly you can point a finger at people and expose their faults. It’s about how you can be a vessel of God’s love and love people right where they are for who they are.

I’m not really good at loving well, but I’m getting better. Those rare moments when I did love well were moments when I forgot about me and let Jesus take over.

My prayer is that you learn to embrace your story, even the painful parts, and help others to find the good in their stories, too.

Above all, may we all learn to love well.

A Prayer for Those Who Grieve

I found a beautiful prayer for those who have lost loved ones and still feel the void where that person used to be. It doesn’t matter whether the loved one was a few minutes old or 100 years old. The loss still hurts. So hopefully this will being you comfort:

“We seem to give her back to thee, dear God, who gavest her to us.

Yet, as thou didst not lose her in giving

So we have not lost her by her return.

Not as the world giveth, gavest thou, O lover of souls

What thou givest, thou takest not away.

For what is thine is our always, if we are thine

And life is eternal

And love is immortal

And death is only a horizon

And a horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight.

Lift us up, O God, that we may see further,

Cleanse our eyes so that we may see more clearly,

Draw us closer to thyself that we may know ourselves nearer to our beloved who art with thee.

And while thy Son prepareth a place for us

Prepare us for that happy place,

That where they are and thou are we too may be,

Through the same Jesus Christ, our Lord. “

Amen.

Blessed are the mourners

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted” (Matthew 5:4).

It seems like we as a society don’t really do well with mourning. We would rather be entertained and amused. Sadness and grief are things that we move past as quickly as possible, and those that don’t are looked upon unfavorably, like “Why can’t they just get over it?”

The Message puts it this way: “You’re blessed when you feel you’ve lost what is most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you.”

How are we to mourn and what are we to mourn for?

I think we mourn not as those who have no hope, but as those who do. Our sadness is a sadness that is based in the hope of a better day yet to come. Our grief is a grief that has joy at its core– joy that whatever we’ve lost will be restored to us a thousand-fold. We mourn knowing that one day we will rejoice and sing– and laugh– over the momentary afflictions that have been far outweighed by an eternal hope of glory.

What do we mourn for? We mourn over the loss of loved ones, because death is certain for every single one of us. We mourn over the wasted lives around us. We mourn over so many hopes we had that were unfulfilled and dreams we had that were dashed against the rocks of reality. We mourn over sin in the world, and what how it mars and wrecks and leaves a ruin in so many lives. We weep for what God in Jesus wept for– that so many will live and die and pass into eternity separated from Him and never knowing what real hope, faith and love look like. They will never know that God had a better, more abundant life in store for them if they would only say yes to Him.

It’s good to mourn for these things, but also to rejoice that all these things will one day end. Jesus has already overcome all the things that cause sadness and grief.

I would like to close this with words from Rich Mullins that may not quite fit, but I loved them so much that I had to add them here:

“It is the living who mourn at a funeral– not the dead. We mourn because the lives of the dead who made our own more lively, and since we are (or had been) so knit together, the loss of another’s strand will eventually cause our own unravelling. Fellowship is the mingling of threads that make up a fabric, and only in a fabric do we have some kind of meaningfulness.”

As always, I believe. Help my unbelief.