When I question my purpose in life or find myself at a crossroad not knowing which way to turn, the truth in God’s Word reminds me that He chose me for a specific purpose. The gift of knowing that God has a plan and purpose for my life encourages me. Along with that fact is the beautiful promise that the days of my life were written in a book even before time began – knowing this gives great security and peace. When pain was inserted into my life, I held onto the simple phrase, “for my good and His glory.” Oh how I wanted to see God’s glory and for Him to be glorified. For me, God’s glory to and through me was the purpose for my suffering.
1. “For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God; not as a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand so that we would walk in them.” – Ephesians 2:8-10
2. “My frame was not hidden from You, when I was made in secret, and skillfully wrought in the depths of the earth; Your eyes have seen my unformed substance; and in Your book were all written the days that were ordained for me, when as yet there was not one of them.” – Psalm 139:14-16
3. “I know that You can do all things, and that no purpose of Yours can be thwarted.” – Job 42:2
4. “As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good in order to bring about this present result, to preserve many people alive.” –Genesis 50:20
5. “For all things are for your sakes, so that the grace which is spreading to more and more people may cause the giving of thanks to abound to the glory of God.” – 2 Corinthians 4:15
When trials come that seem to intercept God’s plan, I know that God is still there. He promises to use what was meant for evil for good, nothing can stop His plans, and God is always at work for my good and His glory!
On September 25, 2015, my wonderful 30-year-old son-in-law, Patrick, suddenly passed away from an unknown heart related condition. He left my only daughter, Brittany, who was 25, the mom of 3 small boys. The oldest son, Peyton, was one day from turning 3-years-old, Evan was 1 1/2 years old, and Nathan only 3-months-old.
My wife was out of state so it was just Brittany and I at the hospital crying together. My tears were not for Patrick because he knew the Lord and was in heaven, my tears were for my daughter and 3 young boys without a father. God immediately placed in my mind and heart that I must do my best to provide a father figure for those boys.
At nearly 58-years-old and with a busy life of my own as a realtor and flipping houses, I was already spread thin, so I prayed for God to help me help them. They stayed in our home for approximately 6 weeks before they went back to their home and then stayed with us a lot of weekends and holidays. I also stopped by to see them as they live only 25 minutes away.
It has now been almost 4 years and these 3 boys are well balanced, good kids that I believe will do great in life despite not having a father in those early years. These are 3 of my 14 grandchildren, at the time of Patrick’s death, all were 5 or younger and 12 of them are boys! During the early days it was obvious that I spent more time with these 3 than the rest and my 3 sons and daughter-in-laws graciously understand that.
At times, I was their 3rd mom behind my daughter and wife, but most of the time I am just “Pops” to them. I was, and still am, very intentional about everything I do with them.
Her 3 boys are young and resilient and will be good God-fearing successful men with their own families someday soon enough. I’m glad that God somehow gave me the time, strength, energy, and wisdom to be there for them in this season of their lives.
I was not alone in the quest to help these boys, they were blessed to have their other grandfather, several uncles all living nearby, and other men who had also been intentional to pour into them. They are loved and prayed for by many of us and that all combines to make for a great support system for them.
These past.4 years, especially the first 22 months, I changed many diapers, got up during the night more times than my tired body wanted to, fed, cleaned up, clothed, bathed, and did what a father would normally do with them and what their amazing father, Patrick, did for them. We also played, wrestled, rode the 4-wheelers and zip line, went fishing, did routine house chores, like taking out the trash, repairing things, and have many other great memories.
We cannot control what God allows to happen to us but we can choose to make the best of it. I choose to embrace the task and enjoy the journey and that makes all the difference!
My head is clear up here. Maybe because I have time to think and nowhere to go but to seat 35F. The perspective from 30,000 feet is almost life altering. It makes me think about my suffering and the suffering of the world all around me, like most things tend to do these days! On the ground we only see what’s around us, the baggage lifting, the hustling, the inevitable security snafu, plans changing, planes leaving on time, off time, really whenever they want. And for us, the passengers, we don’t really know why in the world we can’t just get on the plane and get to our vacation, our home, our final destination. But then, we finally do get the kids moving, the bags sent off, and all our clothes back on after the security assault. Boom! Trays are locked and seats are upright; we take off. It’s then that everyone takes a deep breath because, for one, drinks and snacks are on the way but mainly because we can see that we are actually going somewhere.
Isn’t it like that with our suffering? We are on the ground level and all we see is chaos. Plans didn’t pan out. Frustrations are mounting. Finally, we fall to our knees screaming, “Get me outta here, I didn’t sign up for this. I just want to get to where I am going.” I’ve been there 1,000 times over. I don’t want the process I want the paradise. I want to skip sanctification and get to the “well done, now come and rest.”
Christ must have felt that too. He is the King over all, yet came down to ground level to live in the hustle and strife of earth. In the garden he pleads with God asking him to deliver him to the destination any other way than the one that was planned, but that’s not what happened, so Christ submitted to the plan, knowing what was to come – purpose, restoration, and life, life for all.
So, when life around you starts to crumble and you think your heart can’t take anymore, bring your hope back up to 30,000 feet. From there you can see that Christ is working for your good. All the little and big things were indeed painful but also momentary and purposeful. God knows every last thing we need to get us to where we are going. What seems meaningless to us on the ground, may not seem so meaningless from the aerial view (thankfully they take the extra time to double check the engine, right?). The cross sure seemed that way too. From ground level it was the brutal death of a faultless man. Keep your hopes high because you have cause to. That dark picture on earth was God working for us an eternal salvation, an eternal final destination with him.
Keep your eyes on the final destination because it’s coming. The anticipation of the destination gives us the endurance we need to fight the stresses and pains of the day to day.
May always used to be my favorite month. The beginning of truly warm and sunny weather, everything that was once lifeless for the winter now lush and green, the end of the school year, and my birthday. Aside from the intense pollen we have here in North Georgia, there wasn’t much I didn’t like about the month of May.
Now it’s a strange month. I stray from saying “bad” because there’s always good to be found, so it’s just a strange month. As April nears its end and May approaches, I find myself becoming easily annoyed and impatient. I know I’m a sinner, it doesn’t take spending much time around me to find that out, but this specific time of year is different. All of my tasks seem overwhelming, and I can’t think clearly.
Then I realize it’s a larger, unanticipated wave of grief crashing on me with strength and persistence. The days surrounding painful anniversaries bring on a sometimes surprising level of grief.
I could say May is a bad month for me, but the truth is it’s a blessed month. The sweetness of salvation becomes greater juxtaposed with the bitterness of loss. And it’s strange, but it’s the good kind of strange.
When grief hits hard, whether expected or unexpected, I encourage you to lean into the One who is strong enough to carry all the pain of the world. We all need relationship with our Heavenly Father. A relationship where we know we are destitute of any hope, and the only hope we have rests in the Savior of the world, Jesus Christ.
I could tell you a million things to help you along your walk with grief, but there’s only one true way to healing and without that all the rest will only momentarily cover your pain. That one way is Jesus; fixing your eyes on Him, thinking on Him, dwelling and meditating on His word, talking to Him and listening to Him. When we want to scream at the ones we love because we feel strangled by grief, we can cry out to Jesus to not let our flesh be overtaken by the pain of this world. When we feel like we haven’t a bit of energy or mental clarity left to get us through the day (or even begin the day) we can call on our great God to hold us up throughout the day. There is victory in Jesus alone. May is my strange month, but it’s a month filled with the deep reminder that Jesus is the Victor of my life – not me.