Looking for Hope and Home

hmm, I've got several posts floating around in my head, and I guess we'll see what comes out. Coming soon to a blog near you are posts on "Great books vs. Cultural Literacy," reviews of Twilight, thoughts on Advent, and some other random things.

Thanksgiving has always been one of my favorite holidays. It doesn't seem to have the same commercialism as Christmas and everything else. This year just seemed different. Black Friday a year ago is when my grandmother went into the hospital for the beginning of the downward spiral that took her Home. I've really been grieving for her this week - sometimes really randomly. I guess that's kind of how it works. 

Today was the first Sunday of Advent, and it was my first time to really participate in Advent in a Methodist church. I've always kind of considered myself Methodist, and been around that tradition, but have spent the majority of my life in non-denominational churches. I've been aware of Advent and the candles and all that, especially when around my Methodist-pastor-uncle's house at Christmas, but it was really cool experiencing and participating in the ancient tradition of anticipating the HOPE of Christ's arrival. 

So I do not grieve as one without hope. I live because Christ lives in me, the Hope of Glory. 

I'm loving Brooke Fraser's "CS Lewis Song."

If I find in myself desires nothing in this world can satisfy

I can only conclude that I was not made for here

If the flesh that I fight is at best only light and momentary

Then of course I’ll feel nude when to where I’m destined I’m compared

CHORUS

Speak to me in the light of the dawn

Mercy comes with the morning

I will sigh and with all creation groan

As I wait for hope to come for me

Am I lost or just less found,

On the straight or on the roundabout of the wrong way?

Is this a soul that stirs in me,

Is it breaking free, wanting to come alive?

‘Cause my comfort would prefer for me to be numb

And avoid the impending birth

Of who I was born to become

For we, we are not long here

Our time is but a breath

So we better breathe it

And I, I was made to live

I was made to love

I was made to know you

Hope is coming for me

Home - random thoughts

My grandmother went home to be with Jesus last night. It was time, and I'm glad she's Home; at the same time, I'm still sad and I grieve. But we do not grieve as those without hope.

An oft used phrase around here as of late has been, "We look to heaven. Our hope is in heaven." (Clarification: this concept of heaven is not about it being a cool place, but rather, it is the very presence of God.)

Along with Ted Dekker, Bodie and Brock Thoene are my favorite authors. This week I was reading their book Seventh Day, the seventh in a twelve book series about the life of Jesus. These books are unlike any other work. They understand the historical Jewish perspective and weave amazing stories into a wealth of Scripture insight.

In Seventh Day was the coolest scene I've read in a long time. Abel, son of the widow at Nain, and Deborah, daughter of Jairus of Capernaum, were raised from the dead by Yeshua (Jesus) at different occasions. But here they meet and talk about the things they both experienced.

Abel: "There were many who I knew must be from of old. Though I can't name them, they seemed as though I knew them from my Torah studies...But the first one I met was my father. ...[my father was in] a garden...such color!"

Deborah: "Yes, I was in the same place. The garden. Flowers! Such fragrance! No thorns! Waterfalls so high I couldn't see the top. Rainbows. Hues so deep the air hummed with the music of color. I never knew color is music. Seven colors matched seven musical notes. But all with different shades and voices. Reds and blues and greens, a thousand pitches of every color. I can't explain it. I try, but I can't...it's so...."

They laughed and huddled with heads close together. They seemed to me like old friends meeting unexpectedly on a lonely and distant shore. They rejoiced as they remembered the familiar sights and sounds of their much loved home. In this case heaven was home. This present world was the strange and distant shore to which they had returned.

Wow...

I've been looking at I Corinthians 15 lately. Amazing chapter, all about the Resurrection. I'm sure I'll bring this up again soon...

Oh yeah, Happy Patriot's Day! It's the anniversary of the day 'twas fired the shot heard 'round the world. My favorite source for political news/commentary is http://patriotpost.us/, and they've got some cool stuff on this.

We Go In Jesus' Name

My mom and I spent most of this evening at the hospital, as we have many times this week. My grandmother is currently hospitalized with multiple serious problems, and she is probably close to death. At almost 88 years, she is aware, as are we, that the clock alone is against her. Tonight, however she was doing better, able to joke and laugh with us and my aunt.

Awhile after my aunt left, my mom and I also prepared to go home. We prayed with her for a good night's rest and that God's presence and peace would fill the room. Her nurse, Carol, came in as we were praying, and when we were finished, she said "Amen! I'm glad you know how to pray." From her previous mannerisms and choice of words, we had suspected she was a believer, and she now confirmed it. "Yes, we're all believers here." Mom wanted to make sure my grandmother understood. "You hear that, Nanny? She loves Jesus, just like us." "Oh, yes," Carol agreed. "I couldn't make it through without Him." She took Nanny's hand then, and spoke as if she had known our family for a long time.

"Whatever happens, we go in Jesus' name. See, I had told you that you were blessed, having four kids who turned out like this - and one boy is a pastor too,right? See that's blessing; luck has nothing to do with it. It's only by the
grace and love of Jesus."

"Amen!" my grandmother agreed as forcefully as I have heard her in recent days. "That's right," my mom agreed. To Carol she said, "She's loved God all her life. She was always faithful to have us in church." Carol couldn't have known of the courage Nanny displayed daily to raise her kids in a rough and unpleasant, and at times dangerous, environment. My family is a testimony to the grace of God. All of this was dead on and true.

But it was the first sentence that struck me. "Whatever happens, we go in Jesus' name." I immediately took it for a double meaning, or perhaps one meaning that is not nearly as dichotomous as it first seems. We go with Jesus in life, obeying and walking with Him through everyday challenges. But we also go with Him in death. And whatever happens, we trust in the power of His name.

That's where I'm at right now. I trust my God, and He alone numbers our days. I will soon see my grandmother go with Jesus in death, but it is not an end. When she goes with Jesus, she will know what life truly is. I will continue to go with Jesus in this life, on this earth, struggling to see the rays of heavenly life through the dark mist and fog that so often surrounds me in the valleys.

Her walk with Jesus will differ from mine for a few seconds. She will go on before me to join the great cloud of witnesses, cheering me on as I go with Jesus, running my race on this planet. But then eternity will come, and I will know true life as she has known it for a few moments longer than I. We will dwell in the presence of God forever. That is our hope and our peace in times of trouble. And it is very beautiful.