Do this in remembrance
One year ago today, Noah left this world, to be complete with Jesus in Heaven. This completeness however, seems to, at times, leave a void or emptiness in our lives. So how can this be right? How can it be good? How can pure joy cause such pain?
I was reading a scripture from Job, and it seemed to reflect some of the feelings, some of the words spoken, and definitely some of the thoughts over the last year.
Job 6:8-13 "Oh, that I might have my request, that God would grant my hope. I wish he would crush me. I wish he would reach out his hand and kill me. At least I can take comfort in this: Despite the pain, I have not denied the words of the Holy One. But I do not have the strength to endure. I do not have a goal that encourages me to carry on. Do I have strength as hard as stone? Is my body made of bronze? No, I am utterly helpless, without any chance of success."
Definitely words written from a parent who lost a child, or a spouse who lost their partner and helper in life, or a man who has lost his way. No matter where you found yourself on this landmark day, May 11th, over the previous year, I imagine there were moments such as this, going through your mind. I know there were for me. And in all this mess, I see the hope. I can still hear the Holy One. This mystery of God becomes very tiresome and weary. Maybe I should stop trying to figure it out, and know that His word is Holy and His way is Holy, as He is Holy. Through the journey, the memories and the what-ifs of life, the product of our laments and sorrows is the promise of Hope with Him, through the providence hand of yesterday.
So what about the title? I was watching the Passion of the Christ the other night again, and it finally hit me why we "remember" those we lost. Over this last week, there have been many things in our extended family done to remember Noah, his parents and sister. To recall those few brief moments we had with him, the joy he brought, yet the pain that occured as well. There was hope in his life. And in Christ, we come together regularly to remember him. The life he lived, perfect and sin free, yet died. A death we will never have to encounter. One that tore the fabric of God in pieces as Christ became the very sin he did not possess. This pain I feel today, being without something I desire, is nothing compared to the loss of God in my spirit. But it is that gently, physical reminder, of the love Christ has for me. A feast of remberance. A celebration. Pain, but pure joy in His risen life, waiting for me.
I was reading a scripture from Job, and it seemed to reflect some of the feelings, some of the words spoken, and definitely some of the thoughts over the last year.
Job 6:8-13 "Oh, that I might have my request, that God would grant my hope. I wish he would crush me. I wish he would reach out his hand and kill me. At least I can take comfort in this: Despite the pain, I have not denied the words of the Holy One. But I do not have the strength to endure. I do not have a goal that encourages me to carry on. Do I have strength as hard as stone? Is my body made of bronze? No, I am utterly helpless, without any chance of success."
Definitely words written from a parent who lost a child, or a spouse who lost their partner and helper in life, or a man who has lost his way. No matter where you found yourself on this landmark day, May 11th, over the previous year, I imagine there were moments such as this, going through your mind. I know there were for me. And in all this mess, I see the hope. I can still hear the Holy One. This mystery of God becomes very tiresome and weary. Maybe I should stop trying to figure it out, and know that His word is Holy and His way is Holy, as He is Holy. Through the journey, the memories and the what-ifs of life, the product of our laments and sorrows is the promise of Hope with Him, through the providence hand of yesterday.
So what about the title? I was watching the Passion of the Christ the other night again, and it finally hit me why we "remember" those we lost. Over this last week, there have been many things in our extended family done to remember Noah, his parents and sister. To recall those few brief moments we had with him, the joy he brought, yet the pain that occured as well. There was hope in his life. And in Christ, we come together regularly to remember him. The life he lived, perfect and sin free, yet died. A death we will never have to encounter. One that tore the fabric of God in pieces as Christ became the very sin he did not possess. This pain I feel today, being without something I desire, is nothing compared to the loss of God in my spirit. But it is that gently, physical reminder, of the love Christ has for me. A feast of remberance. A celebration. Pain, but pure joy in His risen life, waiting for me.
posted by sirEller at 9:36 PM
1 Comments:
Nice thoughts.
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