A Month of Thanksgiving~Because Hope Isn't Buried With Our Loved Ones

When a loved one dies, our life's foundation is exposed. Is our faith, our life, built on Jesus, or was it built on the one who's no longer here? I witness a precious friend fight for joy in the Lord as she grieves the loss of her son, and I witness others continuing to sink lower in a state of despair, their grief years old, but the defeat coming fresh with each sunrise. One has hope, but the others live as if all hope is gone, something that was buried with their loved ones. They have forgotten who they are in Christ Jesus. They have forgotten that He is their hope!

Here is truth given by a pastor who recently buried his infant son. As I was reading his words, I was reminded of the goodness of God in using the afflictions of others to encourage and strengthen the body of Christ and to bring Him glory!

"The sting of death was sin, but when sin has been fully paid for, there is no more sting. The sting is gone, and now death is swallowed up in victory. Death is still hard. It is like a long journey, like going into the wilderness. But it isn't loss. It isn't the end. It isn't defeat. Now, for all those who know Jesus, death is a great adventure, a new beginning. For when we die, we go down into death armed with the Spirit of the well-beloved Son, the Son back from the dead, who holds the power of unending life. For those who believe in Jesus, though we die, yet we shall live."
~Toby Sumpter

Please read the rest here:
The Gospel of the Well-Beloved Son

Praising God today for the hope we have in Christ Jesus, a hope that keeps us from being swallowed up by our grief, a hope that allows us to rejoice in the midst of great sadness.

With love,
Trisha

10 Ways to Comfort A Grieving Heart

I'm not an expert on grief. While I've known the heartache of four miscarriages, and I've had family members die, my life's canvas isn't dominated by dark strokes of loss. Of course, grief is not borne out of death alone. Divorce, loss of health, aging, severed relationships, empty nests, barren wombs, and many other circumstances evoke grief. This means it will be the rare time in our lives when someone we know isn't grieving.

As a child I was insulated from death and from grief. The first funeral I attended was just four years ago, when my father-in-law died. The second was just a little over two years ago for my Dad. I didn't have my first miscarriage until I knew the joy of four children.

I can only guess what a poor comforter I was prior to those times, for experience is often a master teacher. Our own trials let us taste the comfort of God, which then allows us to better comfort others. (1 Cor. 1:3) Here are just a few of my lessons learned:

1) Listen. This is essential. Let the grieving heart share its memories and regrets and questions. Let the grieving heart tell you how great God is even in the midst of unspeakable pain. Don't listen with an agenda of telling YOUR stories. Just listen to the stories being told. 

There will be time for you to relate later how you might know what the person is feeling--that's part of comforting others with the comfort we have known-- but initially, pure listening ears are a beautiful gift to a grieving heart.

2) Banish the "But" or "Be careful little tongue what you say." While standing in the receiving line after my Dad's memorial, a woman I've never met came up to me. "I'm so sorry about your Dad, BUT it's a blessing." I'll spare you the rest of her comment and say that her idea of it being a blessing had nothing to do with the fact that my Dad was released from his body of sin and present with the LORD.

"I'm sorry your baby died, BUT at least you have other children."
"I'm sorry you lost your job, but at least you have money in the bank."

When the grief is so fresh, "I'm sorry" works just fine.

3) Remember no act of kindness is too small. As I watched people come in and out of my Mom's home after my Dad died, I was struck by the fact that each person simply did what he could. Some acts of kindness were small, and some were big, but they all were a comfort. Don't convince yourself that your offering of compassion won't matter. It does, and it leaves a soothing impression on that grieving heart.

4) Remember time is standing still for the grieving heart.  Life moves on for everyone else, but the grieving heart often struggles to put one foot in front of the other and do the next thing. Ask if you can take care of phone calls or little tasks that can't wait on grief. And because time seems to stand still, remember that two years can seem like just yesterday to one who is mourning.

5) Pour out grace and patience. The grieving heart can be snippy or forgetful. It can be easily overwhelmed and tearful. It can find it hard to make decisions or commit long-term to something. Don't add to the pressure by burdening the grieving heart with YOUR expectations. 

6) Don't judge what the grieving heart does or does not do. How the grieving heart spends its time is not a proper gauge of grief. We all process the pain differently. Just because the mourner goes out to dinner, spends time on the computer, or has a "good" day, or buys a new dress, doesn't mean she's not struggling or hurting.

7) Pray, and remind the grieving heart of the tender, limitless compassion of Christ. Is there a better gift to give the grieving heart? How precious is the question, "How can I pray for you?"

8) Send a card, a real card. In an age of e-mails and texting, we've forgotten what it means to read real words across a page, words written by loving hands. This type of comfort is special joy. And cards are great months, and even years later, when others have forgotten, but the pain is still there.

9) Customize the comfort. All too often, we comfort only in a manner that appeals to us. But how is the grieving heart most comforted? With silence? With much talking? With a surprise? With planning visits ahead of time? With gifts or with words? With a meal in or a meal out? Ask "How can I best help you during this time?"

10) Sometimes a rebuke is necessary. I know. There will be those who chafe at this, but when grief consumes us, when our loss becomes the focus of our lives, then we are sinning. To stop living because we no longer have a family member in our world or because we can't have that one thing we've been praying for for years is to say that our treasure is not found in Christ, that He's insufficient, that our hope and purpose have been in something other than the God who's made us. Directing a grieving heart back to the truth of who they are in Christ is true comfort. Of course, these hard words require wisdom and prayer and come best from those closest to us, who have been beside us in our grief instead of  just showing up one day and telling us to "get over it." 

May God grant us tender hearts that honor God and love others as we weep with those who weep, pouring out real compassion that lasts longer than our initial whispers of condolence.

With love,

Trisha

**revised from a previous post written for my A Multitude of Mercies blog

A Case of Reversed Punctuation

"Exposing our misguided expectations is not pessimistic. On the contrary, 

it is a first step in the direction of real, biblical optimism. False hopes add up to so 

much spiritual debris that gets in the way of our seeing what 

God has truly promised. The debris has got to go."

~Paul Wolfe

****

My sister's husband is dying of cancer. As in, hospice is now their friend. And as they all ponder Pete's stepping into eternity, the question that frequently comes up from friends and family is, "But you haven't given up hope, have you?"

Of course, when we know Jesus, we know our hope is in Him, not in temporary things, including our time here. But, what people often want to know when they ask this question is, "You haven't accepted this dying stuff, have you? I mean, God can still do a miracle." We want to tie our longevity to whether or not we believed hard enough, had enough positive thoughts, or drank enough green smoothies.

So, my sister and I discussed this tension--the tension between knowing God can heal while seeing the ugliness of a body wasting away right before our eyes or bad lab reports that shout, "The winner is: Cancer." The tension between knowing nothing is impossible with God, while affirming the truth that we are all dying-- sin's curse is real.

And the truth is that we often doubt God's promises while we declare assuredly things we have no assurance of. Paul Wolfe, in his most wonderful book, My God is True, Lessons Learned Along Cancer's Dark Road, calls this tendency "spiritual punctuation reversal."

"We put exclamation marks after the uncertain things because we have managed to convince ourselves that they will certainly turn out in our favour. Even we who repudiate the sort of health-and-wealth prosperity nonsense peddled by some popular preachers may find that those lies have found a lodging in our own hearts. Even if we would never come out and say it, deep down we may be thinking, 'Surely my loving heavenly Father would never make me suffer disappointment and disaster.' This amounts to putting promises in God's mouth.

Conversely, we put question marks after the promises of the gospel because we struggle to believe that something so wonderful--and so unseen--can really be true. Or if it is true, can it really be worth all this? The ancient lie began with 'Has God really said,' and deep down we are prone to treat even his most precious promises that way."

Is there a place for optimism in the face of devastating life circumstances? Of course! We're all living out stories that include amazing providences. But optimism, Wolfe reminds us, is not the same as gospel certainty, and our hearts must guard against confusing the two.

Because the result of mixing up our questions and our exclamations is a life, Wolfe explains, that looks like this:

"Our picnic will certainly be a smashing success!"
"I will definitely get that job I interviewed for!"
"But will God really abide with me in everything I go through, including death?"
"Is heaven a real place, and am I truly destined to arrive there in the end?"

It's living like this, reversing the certain and uncertain, that truly drains our hope. And this is the temptation of all of us, whether we're facing cancer or not. There are endless questions in our lives to which we must answer, "God only knows." But, praise God, there are so many questions that demand the answer, "God said..."

With love,
Trisha


***I cannot recommend Wolfe's book enough. It is a beautiful declaration of the truth of God's sovereignty, and all will benefit from it, cancer or not. Also, my sister covets your prayers and gave me permission to share her story here. Prayers for family unity. For peace and calm in this midst of this very hard providence. For God's spiritual and financial provision. That Christ would be their treasure and their hope would be firmly planted on His promises. Thank you.

If You Were Here

Dear Dad,

I'm amazed that the heart knows anniversaries. Mine has been especially heavy for the past week as I think on last year at this time when I watched you take your last breath.

What a gift from the LORD that I was able to see you in time and that you were able to take your first look at Jedediah in person. I'm glad his little hand was able to touch your arm, that arm that used to hug us or throw a baseball or work on an airplane or make homemade pizzas.

Our relationship those last several years of your life wasn't at all what I hoped it would be. And even though you kept me at a distance, I don't think it's what you wanted, either. But that's what living often does to us. It makes us think we'll always have tomorrow even though we know tomorrow never comes.

To watch you nod when I asked if you were glad I was at your bedside was a priceless gift that I hold close in my heart. It's one I'll tell my children, as I remind them of God's grace and how He loves us like a Father, tending to every detail of our lives. It's a moment that I'll repeat, too, to remind them that we don't want to hang a lifetime of loving on a nod of the head, but rather we have to be mindful to love well and fully every day.

If you were here, I hope God would have mended our broken fences. If you were here, I hope you would have been able to say you love me. If you were here, I hope you would have known anew just how vast the ocean of God's grace is.

If you were here, you would know the wonderful news that we'll, God-willing, welcome another precious son into the family in September. (I can picture you shaking your head, wondering how we'll manage it all.) You would know that Ink is enjoying three weeks in Mexico with a godly family. You would know that God has faithfully provided through a miscarriage last year, Michele's death, broken appliances, leaky roofs, strange objects in ears, seizures, jury duty, and a whole host of other trials.

If you were here, Mama would tell you about the latest adventures from the desert, including Jedediah's saying, "Bang, bang!" when I mentioned he'd be getting shots, or Ella wondering why, after hearing us pray for a relative's "wife to be", anyone would name their wife "tobe." And even if you didn't say a word, I know you'd be smiling inside.

I remember talking with you once and asking if there were things in life you had always wanted to do and never got to. I remember the sadness that colored your face, and at that moment I realized you were human like everyone else, that you had unfulfilled dreams, that maybe there were many things you wished you could do over.

If you were here, I'd say "thank you" for all you did for us. I'd remind you that God chose you to be my Dad, warts and all, and how grateful I am that He's made me a mother, though He knows so well what a wretched sinner I am. I'd speak of His providence, and the truth that He works all things together for good.

If you were here, maybe I could tell you I better understand how broken people live broken lives and are capable of the grossest of sins, how we don't do what we want to do and do what we don't want to do. And I'd tell you how His grace is sufficient for all of our brokenness, and that when we've been forgiven much, we can only forgive others much. Maybe I'd even look you in the eyes, gently grab your shoulders, and ask you if you knew this, really knew it. Maybe you'd listen when I told you the great news of the Gospel is for every moment of every day, no matter how long we've known Jesus. Even the oldest of saints sometimes forget this.

But, Dad, as much as I often wish you were here, so I could hear you say, "I love you," or watch you strain hard to see the dim outlines of your grandchildren, I know Here is the last place you'd want to be.

You knew so well how disease ravages the body and how exhausting the daily battle against our flesh can be. I know you were weary and wanted to be delivered from it all. You now know better than any of us here how sufficient and amazing His grace is.

I move among the days without you here, but I take comfort in the truth that when we see each other again, it will be even better than my memories of your doing science projects with me, singing those hymns so boldly at church, giving me chocolate for Valentine's Day, or my watching you slap your knee as you laughed so heartily. There will be no hearts broken by hard words and stubborn ways or hasty choices. We'll know what it is to perfectly reflect our Savior's love. We'll be consumed by His glory, worshipping Him for all of eternity.

What a day that will be.

Loving you and missing you,

Trisha

***Tomorrow marks one year without my Dad here on this earth. If yours is still with you, I urge you to love better, forgive more, and treasure, in word and deed, the gift of a father, warts and all.

Learn Again to Lament

Because it's in the midst of our trials and singing our own lamentations that we learn best how to comfort other hurting hearts, to show our children that true Christianity requires many sessions in the school of affliction, and to clothe ourselves in compassion and mercy to minister to those who don't know Jesus.

"...let us learn once again to lament. Read the Psalms over and over until you have the vocabulary, grammar, and syntax necessary to lay your heart before God in lamentation. If you do this, you will have the resources to cope with your own times of suffering, despair and heartbreak, and to keep worshipping and trusting through even the blackest of days; you will also develop a greater understanding of fellow Christians whose agonies of, say, bereavement, depression, or despair , sometimes make it difficult for them to prance around in ecstasy singing 'Jesus wants me for a sunbeam' on a Sunday morning; and you will have more credible things to say to those shattered and broken individuals--be they burned-out bank managers or down-and-out-junkies--to whom you may be called to be a witness of God's unconditional mercy and grace to the unloved and the unlovely. For such, as the Bible might put it, were some of you..."
~Carl Trueman, The Wages of Spin
"What Can Miserable Christians Sing"

Mothering Like It All Matters and a Giveaway in Honor of Denise Sproul

How quickly a mother's vision fixes on what doesn't matter. Whether your daughter has the most stylish pair of jeans or haircut. Whether your son gets the latest technological wonder. Whether you have the biggest house on the block or the best homeschooling curriculum.

Wrapped up in the mix of our everyday decisions is the truth that our focusing on what doesn't matter matters. It all matters. 

It's the wise Mama who remembers that each of her decisions, each smile she gives when she's grumpy, each meal she cooks when she's too tired, each sacrifice she makes when she's tempted to pursue her own "dreams," each moment she slays self and lives out the gospel before her family, each look in the eye she gives her children instead of the classic "back turned and uh-huh" response, matter. They shape her family today and families for generations to come. And in ways I don't understand, they matter for eternity.

And yes, it's all by His grace. 

Denise Sproul, wife of R.C. Jr., is with Jesus now, and Doug Phillips reminds us that she's now free from pain and full of joy and waiting the resurrection of the dead and "the reunion of her dear R.C., children, and loved ones in Christ."

He also offers this sobering exhortation, which I remind myself of every day and which is at the heart of so much of what I post here. 

"Tonight, stop and take a really good look at your spouse. Next, look at each of your children. Look really, really long and hard. Take a moment and thank God for every whisper of a moment that God has given you with them. Thank God for the little kisses offered, the stories told, the tickles dispensed, the games played, the readings shared, the silent moments cherished, the victories experienced, the losses endured, the kind words presented , the songs sung, the glances exchanged. These moments not only count for eternity, but they will be remembered for the next billion years after you leave this minuscule moment in time called “life.” Every moment with your loved one matters. Someday they or you will be gone. Every conversation matters. Every kind deed in the name of Christ matters. It all matters." 

(Read the rest here.)

If you're already mothering like it all matters, praise God. Pray you won't lose your focus and get sidetracked by the schemes of Satan, the temptations from the world, or your own flesh. Keep yourself humble before the LORD by remembering every thing you do in your mothering to honor Him is because of His grace.

If you're not mothering like it matters, then make changes. Start on your knees in repentance. Cut the stuff out that's keeping you from living out and speaking of the gospel to your children.

Denise's children are remembering good things about their Mama. They are rising up and calling her blessed, not perfect, but blessed. None of us knows how much longer we have to mother like it all matters, but while we still have another breath, it's never too late.

"But do little ones forget? I suppose the events that we best remember in advanced age are the things that happened to us in our earliest days. At any rate, I have shaken hands with gray-headed men who have forgotten nearly all the events that have intervened between their old ange and the time of their childhood, but little matters that transpired at home, hymns learned at their mother's knee, and words spoken by their father or sister have lingered with them. The voices of childhood echo throughout life. The first learned is generally the last forgotten. The young children who heard our Lord's blessing would not forget it. They would have His countenance photographed upon their hearts and never forget His kind and tender smile. " ~Charles Spurgeon 

Mamas, let's ask ourselves.... 

What will my children remember? 

Will they remember authenticity or hypocrisy?
Will they remember smiles or frowns?
Will they remember kindness or harshness?
Will they remember patience or frustration?
Will they remember joy or despair?
Will they remember trust or anxiety?
Will they remember peace or strife?
Will they remember forgiveness or bitterness? 

Will they remember the life-changing love of Christ and the gospel lived out before their eyes? 

Help us, Lord, remember that they will remember, and let them remember Your love and grace and mercy.

We're blessed to have Denise's parenting wisdom set before us in a book she wrote called Tending Your Garden. 

I'd love to bless one of you with this treasure of wisdom. It can be for yourself or for another Mama or Mama- to- be. Just leave a comment letting me know you'd like to be entered. US only, please. I'll draw the winning name on January 6, 2012. That gives everyone plenty of time to enter and share the word even in the midst of this busy season.

And please remember the Sprouls in your prayers.

Much love,
Trisha

The Real Truth About Our Unmet Needs

I shared with a dear friend that grief often has a stubborn companion...loneliness. I've been saddened and hurt by close friends who haven't really been close friends in the sorrow. I've expected more good words, more encouragement and have been disappointed by what is sometimes even complete silence.

And while my grieving has made me more sensitive to others' grief, more resolved to do unto others as I would want done to me, and I will be the first to say we should bear one another's burdens, God has shown me that even our desire for compassion and comfort from others can be sin when the lack of it disturbs the quiet of our soul.

The truth is that the only One who completely understands my suffering and your suffering is God. Jesus suffered more in those hours on the cross as He bore the wrath we deserved than any of us will suffer in our lifetimes. And yet, unlike our sometimes fleshly responses that make suffering a competition, "My heartache is bigger than your heartache," Jesus looks upon our sorrow with more compassion than an earthly friend could ever offer.

That is true comfort!

If you turned to Psalm 62 in my Bible, you'd find lots of notes and these words underlined, "Truly, my soul waiteth upon God: from Him cometh my salvation. He only is my rock and my salvation; He is my defence; I shall not be greatly moved." Before Michele died, and I had a miscarriage, I wrote the following:

"Only God is my salvation and only in Him should I put my trust, not in my roles as a wife and mother, my family, my friends, my things, my hobbies, my skills or talents. Only Him."

In the past days, I've added, "not in the good words or encouragement of others."

Whenever we're hungering for something other than God Himself, and we're hurt or angry or bitter because our desires are frustrated, it's a timely reminder that God alone is our salvation and only He truly satisfies. He alone comforts our hearts perfectly. He is so good that He often keeps those very desires from being fulfilled that we may realize He is our EVERYTHING.

And because He is our Everything, we don't have to be moved by unmet desires or disappointing friendships or painful silence. We don't have to be bitter or withdraw or throw a tantrum, pick up our toys, and resolve to play elsewhere, with other friends who will surely treat us better.

God has not set us in isolation. We're to rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep. We're to love one another and bear one another's burdens. But we'll never do that perfectly, and if we look to people or things for our salvation, we'll always be disappointed.

So we praise God for the many ways we can bless and encourage one another's hearts. We praise Him for those He's put in our lives who have rejoiced with us and wept with us.We praise Him we can give one another grace as we learn to love each other better. And we praise God that He is trustworthy and always ready to hear the rejoicings or sorrows of our hearts, most perfectly. (Psalm 62:8)

With love,

***And I praise God for the mercies He's poured out on me through so many of you who have never even met me. Thank you!

When Darkness Settles In

"You can no more kill the darkness than you can raise the sun."

~Andrew Peterson

We woke up to a snow-spattered landscape the other morning, the clouds masking the mountains. It was quite beautiful, and I find days like these comforting and cozy.  But the darkness of it all reminds me of the place God has me now. Like a cloud, the heaviness hangs over me, and I feel I'm clinging with all my might to all the hope and joy that He's given me these past couple of weeks.

My flesh prefers short-term grief. I'd like to move on to the sunny paths of His providence, but my heart knows that there are priceless lessons to be learned right where I am. So, I'm praying for enough hope to not be overcome by despair, and I'm rejoicing that God has kept me so powerfully in this trial.

He's kept me from bitterness.
He's kept me from doubt.
He's kept me from murmuring and fist-shaking.

He's kept me rejoicing and moving through the days with increased dependence on Him.

It's all a gift of His infinite wisdom and His endless mercies. The growing pains. The grace. The eyes-wide-open to see the daily load of benefits I enjoy. I'm so thankful.

So, while I feel the darkness in an almost crushing way, my heart and lips are still spilling over with praise. I know. How can this be? Only God.

As He continues to refine me, by His grace, I know what I'll still be doing. I'll still be laughing with my children. I'll still be crying in the quiet. I'll still be making our home a place that reflects the love of Christ. I'll still be fighting. Not fighting against God's providence, but fighting hard and praying hard for a heart that doesn't cry to be moved from the darkness before I'm ready and for God to continue to be merciful to this slow learner. Oh, LORD, be merciful to me, a sinner!

And I'll still be on my knees for those who are in an even darker place. Praying you'll know God's peace and comfort and joy, right in the midst of your sorrow.

The darkness will last for a season, and God, in His perfect timing, will lift the heaviness, and we'll be walking in sunshine, stronger and more like Jesus, and ever ready to glorify Him when the darkness comes again.

"And call upon me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you, and you will honor me."
~Psalm 50:15

With love,

Notes From the Reading Chair~Book Briefs

I think I lost my reading momentum back in June. I've gotten sidetracked with life's circumstances and have been reading books not even on my book list. Lately, I've been camped out in the Psalms for my Bible reading, and I've been devouring books about grief and affliction.

But, here are some thoughts on a few of the books I have managed to finish so far this year. Please remember that a recommendation doesn't mean I agree with EVERYTHING an author says nor everyone the author quotes, but that I do think a read is worthy of your time and effort.

A Place of Quiet Rest by Nancy Leigh DeMoss: Reading Nancy's books is like having tea and conversation with a true friend. She speaks the truth in love and does it well. This book focuses on cultivating a regular time with the Lord in the Word and in prayer.

I'll tell you now that I diverge from the many wise women and Moms who insist there's no need for a quiet time. I'll defend the necessity of this discipline, this habit, whatever you choose to call it, until I die, and this book is a great teacher for beginners as well as for Christians who have cherished their daily time alone with the LORD for years.

Facing Grief by John Flavel: Flavel was a Puritan writer. I bought this soon after my Dad died, and I found it most encouraging, and I highly recommend it with a couple of cautions. This is not the book to give to a mother who has just lost her baby. Flavel, though speaking the truth and knowing well the pain of losing a child, approaches the subject with some rough edges that I think might be discouraging for the newly grieving Mama.

I also don't recommend passing this book along to a weaker Christian who just lost a loved one. But, for the well grounded, mature Christian, Flavel's words will be convicting and comforting at the same time.

For the Love of God Vol. 1 by Don Carson: I love this book, even though I've gotten off track with it since my Dad died. Carson offers the "big picture" of God's Word in this devotional that is a great companion to your daily Bible reading. It covers the Bible in a year, and Carson offers a second volume as well. Highly recommended.

Death in Holy Orders by P.D. James: I read Children of Men by James several years ago, but I honestly couldn't remember enough about it to know if I should try another one of her books. Needing a break from the heaviness of some of my non-fiction reads, I decided to try this book. James is a captivating writer who knows how to tell a tale, keeping you in suspense at every turn of the page. However, there was too much sensuality in this story (and I'm thinking Children of Men was the same) for my comfort. I recommend Dorothy Sayers instead. Her Nine Tailors was an excellent, suspenseful read without the unsavory relationships and details.

Humility by C.J. Mahaney: This is probably my favorite read thus far this year. Highly recommended. We enjoyed this as a read aloud and found Mahaney to be practical, funny, and encouraging. If your family struggles with conflict or lack of unity or you find yourself struggling to find evidences of grace in those around you, read this book.

Making it All Work by David Allen: No, Allen is not a Christian, but when it comes to organizing and scheduling, he's spot on. His Getting Things Done method clicks with me, and I've found his books to be very beneficial, even though I'm a homemaker. I think his system is brilliant! Again, Allen is not a Christian and this is obvious in his writings, so proceed with caution if this might be a stumbling block for you.

The Power of Words and The Wonder of God by John Piper and Justin Taylor, editors: I was greatly encouraged and convicted by this book ,which is a collection of essays addressing the power of the tongue. I found it ironic that Mark Driscoll was a contributing writer, and I was offended by some of his potshots at homeschoolers, but found his essay, overall, surprisingly edifying. Even with Driscoll as a contributor, I recommend this book.

Treasury of David by Spurgeon: This is a collection of Spurgeon's writings on the Psalms, and it is wonderful! Highly recommended. I even sought out a used set because the current publications of this are abridged. I've been feasting on the Psalms for several months now and have found these books to be great companions.

Contentment: A Godly Woman's Adornment by Lydia Brownback: Wonderful book that gets to the heart of our murmurings and disputings. I found her essays so encouraging, I quickly finished this one. Makes a great gift.

The Real Scandal of the Evangelical Mind by Carl Trueman: "What is an evangelical....and has he lost his mind?" Great read worth your time. Be prepared to read it a couple of times. Trueman is brilliant.

Large Family Logistics by Kim Brenneman: Even if you don't have a large family, you'll find this book helpful. Brenneman deals with the practical and with the heart. Encouraging and brief chapters that cover everything from scheduling to pregnancy to feast nights to homeschooling. A great reference to have on hand and go back to again and again.

Read on!

With love,

I'll See You at Home, Michele

Michele

1964-2011

When I was with my Dad in June and watched him die, there was a finality that came with being with him. The realness of it all didn't escape me. 

But when someone who is miles away from you dies, it's strangely surreal. I expect the phone to ring and someone to say there's been a mistake. I want to rewind the day and play back a different ending.

I want to scream, "Noooooooo!!"

And as much as I want to do that because I want to hug Michele again and hear her voice, I know that her homecoming this evening is something to rejoice over. And I know that in time, my breaking heart will rest more firmly in that.

She's with Jesus! She's free from all pain and sorrow and cancer and dialysis and steroids and heart attacks and swelling and every other complication that she's suffered these past years. She's free from sin!

But I will miss this bosom buddy of mine. I will miss my Sister-Cuz. I will miss how she cheered me on and endlessly blessed me. 

Oh, she fought the good fight. She finished the race well.

"The Lord has again taken one dear to you all, but much dearer to Himself, to her happy home. While all here are sorrowing, she is rejoicing. She is not far from us. Heaven is very near, nearer than we imagine. All sorrow and pain is over now, and all tears are wiped from her eyes. She is in possession of the mansion prepared for her. Oh, were our faith but stronger, we should never shed a tear for one so dear to Jesus, who had left a world of trial and a body of sin and death for the glorious inheritance. It is true we lose their society for a little while, but you and I, dear friend, shall soon meet again with those we once loved on earth, and enjoy them to all eternity. How should this encourage our hearts, and fill us with holy gratitude to Him who has brought life and immortality to light through the gospel. "

~Mary Winslow

Heaven Opened

My cousin treasured each one of you who prayed for her. She was so grateful. Thank you again for your kindness and your encouragement. We serve a mighty God who does us good, all the time. Oh how Jesus knows our sorrows and brings comfort like no other.

I ask for your continued prayers for David and their children and Michele's mom and siblings. Michele was only 47. There's so much her children will experience that she won't be part of. Pray for grace to draw them all closer to Jesus during the difficult days and years to come. May they cling to Him tighter than ever and find in Him complete satisfaction.

With much love and gratitude,

His Impression

"Whatever thy grief or trouble be, take every drop in thy cup from the hand of Almighty God. He with whom 'the hairs of thy head are all numbered,' knoweth every throb of thy brow, each hardly drawn breath, each shoot of pain, each beating of the fevered pulse, each sinking of the aching heart.

Receive, then, what are trials to thee, not in the main only, but one by one, from His all-loving hands; thank His love for each; unite each with the suffering of thy Redeemer; pray that He will thereby hallow them to thee. Thou wilt not know now what He thereby will work in thee; yet, day by day, shalt thou receive the impress of the likeness of the ever-blessed Son, and in thee, too, while thou knowest it not, God shall be glorified."
~E.B. Pusey
quoted in Keep a Quiet Heart
by Elisabeth Elliot p.61

In Memory

The last time my Dad visited our home was at this time of year 5 years ago. He was with us to celebrate Ella's and Jake's birthdays. I could spend hours making a slide show to remember him, but this will do for now.   Remember to turn off the site music before watching.

You can watch it on YouTube at the link below for a bigger picture.

Click here for YouTube version

Home

We walked through our front door late Tuesday night, and the best children in the world greeted us!  I know they were happy to see me and Mountain Man, but it was obvious who they really wanted to get their responsible, trustworthy hands on.

I think they would have divided this guy into pieces if they could have. And, I must say, after a minute of thinking we had dragged him into another hotel room where he'd be confined to the bed (sorry...the thought of crawling babies on hotel room floors just isn't cool with me), Cap'n realized he was home, and that meant lots of brothers and sisters and tons of hugs and kisses. His reaction?

He was beaming.

I'm thankful for God's preservation of our family in all of our comings and goings. I'm thankful for plenteous grace notes scattered throughout the house....a clean home, partially filled menu board of Emma's handwriting, food in the refrigerator (some provided by gracious hands of friends),  and beautiful pink roses waiting for me.  I'm thankful that Little Bit's collision with a hot pan didn't result in a more severe burn. I'm thankful for Mountain Man's job and that he was able to be with us the whole way. What a gift God has given me in my Beloved! I'm thankful for piles of laundry to do and dirty dishes to wash and conflicts to settle. I'm thankful for friends and family and the many who put feet to their words and blessed us beyond measure.

I'm thankful that I can't stop counting God's mercies.

Truly, is it not a gift of grace, that in the midst of our grief, eyesight blurred from our abundant tears as we mourn our losses, we can still see so clearly the mercies He has poured out on us, the mercies that move us to praise Him unreservedly for His lovingkindness? That's grace. All grace.


Love,

Goodbye, Dear Jessie

"My little dog--a heartbeat at my feet."

~Edith Wharton

"Scratch a dog, and you'll find a permanent job."

~Franklin P. Jones

"We long for an affection altogether ignorant of our faults.  Heaven has accorded this to us in the uncritical canine attachment."

~George Eliot

Best Dog Ever

April 1998-December 2009