Friday, October 2, 2015

Another Letter to God - A Little Hope

Good morning, God,
It’s me again.  Remember me?

This morning I did something that seemed quite normal.  I woke up, opened my book of daily Bible readings, and reflected on a few verses.  As I’ve done most of this year, I looked for some words that stood out (today it was ‘set you free’ from Romans 8:1-5).  My aim has been to have these words percolate throughout the day.  In some ways, just another morning devotion.  I muttered a few words of prayer.  A little time spent with you.  Not that amazing, really.

The bookmark in the book opened to September 11th, a day that for me will always be ‘ the day my wife Shannon was told she didn’t have long to live.’  Since that day I’ve had little interest in sitting with you for a morning devotion.  I have known that you remained by my side but I haven’t felt like engaging in a conversation.  I’ve attended worship but have felt like I was just going through the motions. 

God, I admit that the last two weeks have very self-focused.  I’m wrapped up in caring for Shannon, a task which I do with relish.  She’s a wonderful woman and I have nothing else I’d rather do, but being in charge of someone whose health is failing takes a toll!   I'm sleeping in a cot in her hospital room.  I’m coordinating a visiting schedule so Shannon doesn’t get overwhelmed with people.  I’m planning a funeral, I’m making sure that her business continues smoothly, I’m trying to get exercise (to keep sane), I’m wondering what life will be like as a single man, especially once Ben goes off to college.  It’s about me.  Things have turned inward.

This morning, as I woke up and lay there thinking (something that happens around 4 or 5 am every day…it’d be nice to get a full night of sleep for a change), my thoughts shifted to Shannon.  What must life be like to be standing at the brink of death?  Here I am thinking and making plans for the future.  She will never see that future.  Her future is with you, not me.

As you know, my faith has always centered around this hope.  From the moment of my mom’s funeral when I was a mere seven years old I have clung to the resurrection with my whole being.  Now that hope is for Shannon.  It’s the only hope we have.  She’s eating and drinking little.  She’s losing weight and energy.  No matter how hard we try to keep her strong our options are limited.  God, your options are not.  I’m not going to beg and plead for a miracle.  I know all too well that death is a part of life.  Shannon will die, but in you she will rise.  She will life with the glorious saints.  I won’t pretend to understand what that looks like, but I do trust that you have it all under control.


So, for this one morning, I’m reaching out to you.  I’m trusting in your faithfulness.   I know that Shannon will be ‘set free.’   Tomorrow the cares of this world may again overwhelm me, but right now your resurrection floods my soul.  Thank you for that.

No comments:

Post a Comment