Is it time yet, God?
Hi, friends!
So I was scrolling down my Facebook newsfeed, and a meme caught my eye. I shared it on my author page because it resonated with me at the time. Thing is: I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind.
Here it is:
Let that sink in.
We hear that God is never late. I believe it 100%.
But I’ve never considered that “God is never early.” That’s the part that has stuck with me.
I picture a timeline. If one point marks early and another point marks late, then there has to be a certain point on the timeline that is…
- Right
- Perfect
- Exact
- Precise
- Dead-on
Think about the birth of Christ. Jesus didn’t come early to Earth. Neither did He come late. He came at the precise time. In the fullness of time.
But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son. (Galatians 4:4)
When everything was as God wanted, Jesus made His entrance onto the stage called Earth. Nothing and no one could rush his birth. Nothing and no one could stop it from happening. Everything was as it should have been for His supernatural entrance.
Same with His death and resurrection.
He gave himself to pay for the sins of everyone. That was a witness given by God at just the right time. (1 Timothy 2:6).
You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. (Romans 5:6)
And with the death of Lazarus (John 11:1-44). Although Jesus knew about Lazarus’ illness, He waited a while before visiting him. By the time Jesus arrived, Lazarus had been dead four days! Both of Lazarus’ sisters told him, “I wish you had been here! Then my brother would not have died.” Jesus replied, “Lazarus is dead. For your benefit, I am glad I was not there. Now you will believe.”
Friends, I’m going to be transparent here: I have several things I think God is late on in my life. But after seeing this meme, I wonder whether it’s still early for Him to shine. Is it still too early that we’ll think we figured things out on our own?
I feel like time is running out. But I know He is never late.
And now I know, He’s never early. He is on-time. Precise. Exact. Perfect.
The suffering won’t last forever. It won’t be long before this generous God who has great plans for us in Christ – eternal and glorious plans they are! – will have you put together and on your feet for good. (1 Peter 5:10)
Our suffering is light and temporary and is producing for us an eternal glory that is greater than anything we can imagine. (2 Corinthians 4:17)
A thousand years to you are like one day; they are like yesterday, already gone, like a short hour in the night. (Psalm 90:4 2 Peter 3:8)
So … I wait. We wait. With hope and prayer and, many times, wavering faith.
And just when I think time is up…
Come alongside… Do you agree with God never being early? Why or why not? What are you waiting for? Does it feel like time is running out? How can you choose to believe that God will be on time? Please share with us in the box that says, “Leave a reply.” Remember you can reply anonymously.
Forgive and Forget? Not Really. (Part 2)
Hi, friends!
Several months ago, I wrote the post, “Forgive and forget? Not Really.” In that post, I said I agreed with the “forgive” part of that age-old saying. (If you haven’t read it yet, hop on over to that post and chime in on our discussion.)
I ended that post saying I would address the “and forget” part in the next post. Summer came and went. So did the holidays, and still no follow-up on the post.
I haven’t wanted to talk about the “and forget” part–much less, blog about it. Several things happened after the first post that have challenged me in the forgiveness department. It’s as if God was saying:
“Do you really believe what you say you believe, Daphne?”
With God’s help, lots of tears, and the help of my family, friends, and my recovery group, I’m working through the forgiveness part–and doing well, at least, for today. 😉
Lately, the “and forget” part has come to mind, which, if you ask me, shows progress. Does that mean I should just go ahead and forget about what happened? Should I erase the bad things that have consumed me for the past year? Do I pretend the harmful things that have dominated every waking–and “sleeping”–moment of my life since early summer no longer matter? No.
Pain matters.
Forgetting the pain my family and I have gone through would also erase the good that has come from it.
- More conversations about feelings and long-standing issues with low self-worth.
- Healthy boundaries.
- New directions for our family.
- A simple life that treasures even the little things.
- Courage to protect myself and my loved ones.
- Restored relationships with estranged family members.
- Right priorities.
- Tighter family relationships.
- Renewed importance of the fragility of life.
- Better listening skills.
- Learning about each others’ lives–things we didn’t know about each other that we will carry with us for years to come.
- Giving and receiving advice across generations.
Who knew that negative situations could produce such positive change? And this is just a short list of good coming from bad! There were plenty of good things in our lives last year. That’s an entirely different list of God’s blessings. Should I forget it all–2014?
When we “forgive and forget,” we essentially tell God our pain is better left in the past. Nothing good has come from it. I am where I am today by my own merit, not anything God has done.
“Forgive and forget” is an affront to the sovereignty of God who turns evil into good (Genesis 50:20, Romans 8:28).
Pain is important to forgive. It’s also important to remember.
“Forgive and remember” until you can do so without an inkling of anger, bitterness, or revenge. That, my friend, is healing. “Forgive and remember” speaks hope: Look what God did for me in this situation. He can do the same for you. That’s the power of remembering. That’s the hope you can share with others. “Forgive and forget” lacks hope. It has nothing to offer anyone. Your pain is in vain.
My pain is not in vain. God has brought much good from it–and I know He will continue to do so. This is the hope I offer you: God can bring good from whatever wrong was committed against you or whatever hurtful thing was said about you.
Forgive and remember.
All praise to the God and Father of our Master, Jesus the Messiah! Father of all mercy! God of all healing counsel!
He comes alongside us when we go through hard times, and before you know it, he brings us alongside someone else who is going through hard times so that we can be there for that person just as God was there for us. (2 Corinthians 1:3-4)
Come alongside… Do you agree that you shouldn’t forget the wrongs committed against you? Why or why not? What have you been trying to forget that you need to remember? Please comment in the box below. Remember, you can comment anonymously.
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Playing Tug-of-War with Angels
“Right now, we’re just playing tug-of-war with angels.”
The doctor’s voice ushered in reality for us. Our NeeNee–the matriarch in the family–was dying. Doctors resuscitated her numerous times that morning–the day before Thanksgiving.
It was now our decision: To sign or not to sign the DNR form.
My husband, his step-mom Tracy, and I. No one else in the family had made it to the hospital yet.
The three of us looked at each other, tears streaming down our faces.
“We hate to do this to you,” said the doctor, “but we need to know now.”
We knew NeeNee wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. She was ready to go home.
“Do not resuscitate.”
I walked behind the doctor to the room where NeeNee lay, Tracy beside me. My husband left to pick up family members.
Our NeeNee lay motionless in the bed. I held her left hand while Tracy held her right hand. We cried alongside her, prayed over her, but most of all, we loved on her. She was non-responsive, even before the doctors disconnected the machinery. But we knew she could hear us.
Periodically, we watched her vitals, slowing with each passing moment.
Still, she held on.
A chaplain came and prayed with us.
We waited for the others to arrive. Minutes seemed like hours, but Tracy and I treasured every moment with our NeeNee. She took deep breaths every once in awhile, as we reassured her, “It’s okay. Go on home.”
I caressed her hair and rubbed my index finger on her cheek. Every once in awhile, I leaned in to kiss her and tell her I loved her. Her vitals would spike and then slowly decline again.
“It’s okay, NeeNee. Go on home.”
I held her hand and remembered the day I met her–a beautiful smile that welcomed me into her family. She knew no strangers and loved all who came around her. She was the family historian–a storyteller who could take a 5-minute tale and turn it into a 30-minute epic. She remembered everyone’s birthday and anniversary and freely gave out of the little she herself possessed. Her heart was toward her family.
Now her heart was failing her. She was tired and ready–ready to leave this world of physical pain and enter into paradise with her Savior. Her sister, mother, and father would be waiting for her there too.
And yet, the angels tugged at her. We tugged as well.
Pulse.
15-0.
15-0.
15-0.
Outside the room, I heard a noise. Turned around to see some of our family members. “They’re here,” I said.
15.
0.
0.
0.
0.
I bowed my head and cried. She waited. They arrived. She let go of the rope. Quietly, peacefully, she entered eternity. No more pain, no more exhaustion. God, in His mercy, extended her the ultimate gift–not only the freedom from pain and exhaustion, but also the gift of Himself.
But why grant me such a gift? Why would God grant me the gift of ushering a beautiful soul into His presence? To witness the passing of a Godly woman–a daughter, a sister, a wife, an aunt and friend to many? Why would He have me share this life-changing occasion with Tracy? Why?
Love.
The love that took NeeNee home is the same love that shone down on me that day. It’s the same generous love God shines down on me every moment, every day (Psalm 84:11). God’s perfect love transcends suffering and pain–NeeNee’s and mine.
In death and in life, we play tug-of-war with angels. In death and in life, I want to let go of the rope.
We love you, NeeNee, and we’ll see you soon.
Come alongside… In what ways are you playing tug-of-war with God? How can you let go of the rope?
A Suitcase of Ebenezers
My dear friend and fellow writer, Jamie Miles, recently wrote a blog post titled, “Stairway to the Me I Forgot.” In her blog post, Jamie talks about finding items from her childhood in her family’s attic.
Jamie’s final question: “Have you cleaned out an attic lately? What did you find? Or re-find about yourself?”
This got me thinking…
Prior to my wedding earlier this year, my mom gave me a suitcase filled with items from my childhood. I haven’t opened it–yet. I would like to say that I forgot about it–and in some respects I did with all the wedding planning, but now that we’re settling into our home, I’ve walked by the suitcase several times and said, “Maybe later.”
- Later…
- Not now…
- Not a definite time in the future…
- But later.
Sometimes it’s hard to go back. We fear taking that stairway into those dark areas of our lives. Or we think about how tattered our lives are–like that old suitcase– and we just don’t want to go there–to the all-too-familiar, the things we prefer to escape:
- Depression.
- Addictions.
- Abuse.
- Hurts.
- Illness.
- Loss.
Difficult and sometimes downright painful. But in the corners of the attic and tucked into pockets of the suitcase are our Ebenezers–visual reminders that God was with us through the pain and continues to help us to this day (1 Samuel 7:12).
- Ebenezers.
- Reminders.
- Good times.
- Happy times.
- Times of laughter and childlike silliness.
- Times of peace and hope.
In the attic and in the suitcase, we might uncover pain. But we also uncover visual reminders of God’s love, His protection, and His sovereignty. Each has made us what we are today.
Even more, we now hold in our hands God’s reminder: He has helped us to this day.
I think I’ll pull out that suitcase now.
Come alongside…Do you resist going back? What Ebenezers can you identify through life’s pains?
Photo: Hurts and The Cockpit
I took this photo while traveling.
Come alongside … For which hurts are you still in the cockpit? Which hurts do you need to relinquish the cockpit and allow God to fly the aircraft of your life?
Big Hugs,
Daphne
