Sarah Lang

Image Bearer

Eating dinner with my friends, the conversation gradually loosens like the release of bound up hair.  We start opening up, trusting each other, as we step out from behind our images.  One step, then another, testing the waters, “Are you really trustworthy, we silently wonder?  Will you still like me no matter what I say or how I am?”  Then I hear it, that lie we women are cursed to fight against.  The one that says our value is tied to our appearance. 

Such dissatisfaction I hear.  It grieves me.  The women long to hear words of genuine affirmation, approval, and adoration.  Yet, their value is so tied to an idealized image that any compliment falls on deaf ears.  Until somewhere in their hearts that chain is broken – that lie is dismantled – they will continue to strive, to improve, to thin down, to make-up, to hide behind a broken beauty. 

Oh, ladies, you’ve got it!  You’ve got the beauty!  You’ve got all you need!  Don’t let the enemy steal that assurance away.  No matter how hard we strive, how much weight we lose, how much we tone up, we will still feel that dissatisfaction in ourselves until we come face to face with God.  We are created in the image of our Creator:  “So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them” (Gen 1:27). 

Did you hear that?  We are created in the image of God.  Male and female, God created us to reflect God’s image.  We are both equally created in the likeness of God.  God created men and women as complementary partners, blessing us both, giving us both dominion and stewardship over the earth:  “co-image bearers and co-regents” (quote by Manfred Brauch in Abusing Scripture).

Lift up your chins, sisters, and know that no matter how hard you strive to “improve” nothing will remove the dissatisfaction except that fact:  created in the image of God.  Our striving becomes an insatiable monster.  Only momentarily satisfied by our self-created fix, the hunger pangs return, just as strong as before.  So, what do we do?  Return to the same cafeteria line, order the same entrée as before, then later wonder why we feel just as empty.  Didn’t we take care of our hunger?  “Why this void?” we wonder. 

It’s time to get out of our line – our way of doing things.  And really look at the Lord.  Sit at Jesus’ feet.  Be like Mary for a while.  Put aside the striving, the doing – the Martha.  Listen to what God says about you.  Imagine sitting under the gaze of our Lord.  Imagine your worth.  Imagine Jesus saying about you, “There is need of only one thing.  Mary [or Sarah, or _____ ] has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her” (Luke 10:38-42).

Realizing the blessing God has bestowed on us as women helps us to attain the full measure of the giftedness God has in store.  When we deprecate ourselves or settle, we diminish the full person God is creating us to be.  How can we attain maturity when we think ourselves as “less than”? 

“You are a woman.  An image bearer of God.  The Crown of Creation.  You were chosen before time and space, and you are wholly and dearly loved.  You are sought after, pursued [by Jesus] … You are dangerous in your beauty and your life-giving power.  And you are needed” (quote by Stasi Eldredge in Captivating).

Noise

Seeking to spruce up my time alone with God, I have turned to the spiritual disciplines.  One such discipline is most enticing, yet slippery, like that annoying bar of soap:  solitude.  During moments of solitude, the television of my mind turns on.  I jump on the sofa, comfortably pick up the remote, and start channel surfing.  Some of my favorite shows include,

· WWF – Let’s wrestle, get bruised and bloodied over various thoughts, concepts, and theology.

· Dr. Sarah – Let’s criticize, analyze, tease apart situations, ideas, and best of all – people.

· Fantasy Island – Let’s take a trip down imagination lane.  Imagine all the pretend dialogues, situations that will never happen … all the “what ifs.”  Then, let’s replay previous conversations and interactions.  Imagine all the “should-ofs” and “could-ofs.”  Then, let worry take over. 

· Cooking with Sarah – Let’s whip up some savory, “I have a lot to do!”, followed by the frothy, “Why am I sitting here?”.  For dessert, we have the creamy and rich, “Oh, I forgot to do that.”

Needless to say, this TV is very boisterous, like a rebelling teenager.  However, like the fabulous show, Nanny 911, taught me, it takes gentle persistence and an upper hand to move that apathetic teen off the sofa, to put down the remote, and to gain cooperation. 

However, the TV must be unplugged for the goal is quietness … in the soul.

Check out Isaiah 30:15-22, “… In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength …. Therefore the Lord waits to be gracious to you; therefore he will rise up to show mercy to you.  For the Lord is a God of justice; blessed are all those who wait for him.”

Through the spiritual disciplines, I find freedom, not stagnation.  Allowing my aloof teen to vegetate on the sofa will only lead to entrapment.  Indulgence leads to enslavement.  In contrast, God rewards those who seek him.

I look to Jesus’ model.  Read Mark 1:35-39, “In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed…”  Jesus’ desire to have solitude must have been extrememly strong.  He had to fight fatigue, hunger, and the cool dampness of the morning.  All that Jesus did, teaching, healing, reconciling, extends from God.  Jesus received a clear picture of his ministry and purpose.  Revived, he left the crowds of people who still sought healing to go elsewhere, where God was leading.  Jesus could not have received that message if he didn’t exercise solitude and prayer with God. 

So how much more true is that for us?  I need God to pour into me his purpose for my life.  Only by sitting at God’s feet will I be renewed to hear and have the ability to be the person God is calling me to be.  Solitude and communion with God is not an option for me, Sarah, the Jesus-follower, because God is my Source.  So, I will continue to persistently walk over to that cantankerous TV, pull out the plug, and seek quietness with God in my soul.

Intimacy

(I have to give credit to my professor, Emmanuel Itapson, for inspiring this blog.)

Is it possible to believe in a God who is not far off, but is near?  Isn’t that what Genesis addresses right off the bat?  God created.  When God created, it was good.  God spoke and brought life into being.  In Genesis 1, God said, “Let there be…”  And you know what?  There was.  “And God saw that it was good.”  God spoke and creation came into existence.  The universe was not a series of random circumstances.  We are not the product of a series of random accidental events with no purpose to life.  No!  God created.  People are formed in the image of God.  “…in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.” (Gen 1:27).  We are created to reflect the kindness, compassion, love, faithfulness, strength, and beauty of God.  We have the potential to reflect God’s character.  That’s where our value is based; on no other virtue is our worth found.

The startling thing between Genesis 1 and Genesis 2 is the pace.  Genesis 2 slows and God becomes a personal God.  Instead of speaking, God bends down in the dirt and forms people, crafting with his own hand, breathing breath into us, and giving us life.  What care and intimacy is shown through that act!  When God created people, God came down on bended knee and played in the mud, fashioning us personally and intimately.  Can you imagine it … Creator of the universe forming and breathing the breath of life into us?  Now, not only is creation good, but very good (1:31).  No distant God exists. 

Whenever feeling like God is far off, consider Genesis 2.  God came down and played in the dirt.  What a picture of intimacy, love and care.  God is not far off, the Lord is much closer than we realize.  Sometime in the pace of the day, stop and contemplate the picture of God Genesis 2 paints, and relish in God’s care.

Dance

Amidst the clamor and din of our daily lives, we scarcely notice God’s pulse intertwined in our daily lives.  Imperceptibly to us, God beckons us to slow down and tune into him.   His voice never ceases, only waits for us to respond.  Our attention diverts as we work to feel successful, important, and relevant.  We think human success fills our hearts.  Instead, we need to first chase after God’s heart. 

 

How often do we dance for others what we perceive they want to receive?  We dress up, add, flourish, and embellish the dance, secretly craving other’s approval.  When the praise is dished out, the leaps become higher and longer.  But at the end of the day, we feel exhausted and empty.

 

God places this dance within us, but too often we add to it.  He invites us to strip it down, to dance barefoot, to remove the decorative slippers, and the fancy garment.  “Stop striving!” God beckons.  “Untie your hair and dance the dance I have placed in your heart."  Plain and simple.

 

Striving for other's approval leaves us miserable and unnourished.  We may think we’ve risen above dancing for others, but then a tendril sneaks in and trips us.  Author Sue Kidd reflects, “No matter how many ‘badges of love’ you collect, they are never enough because they are empty of real nourishment and cannot seem to feed the hunger gnawing deep inside.  So you keep doing more, working a little harder….  Despite our ‘head-knowledge’ that God loves us just as we are, there is usually some sneaking notion curdling way down inside that we will be loved best by God when we are doing the right things and achieving for His kingdom.”

 

We have grown accustomed to the pervasive message that acceptance and love come as a result of what we do and accomplish.  “To be loved, you must be lovable.”  Conditions hang on human love to some degree or another.  Internalizing this message sets us on a rat’s race of approval ratings.  Our value then vacillates depending on our performance in the eyes of people.  Up one day, down another.  Instead we must fight to see our never-changing value as beloved children of our extravagant, love-giving God. 

 

Nothing we do can make God love us less or more.  To hear it is one thing, to believe it in the depths of your heart is quite another matter.  C.S. Lewis notes, “How difficult it is to receive, and to go on receiving … a love that does not depend on our own attraction.  We want to be loved for our cleverness, beauty, generosity, fairness, usefulness.  The first hint that anyone is offering us the highest love of all is a terrible shock.”

 

When we dance only as a response to the song placed in our hearts by the Lord, we become centered.  The extravagance falls away as does the striving for others’ approval.  We are to seek first God's Kingdom.  (Matt. 6:33). 

 

Opening ourselves to God makes us vulnerable, but it is in those moments of solitude with God that we consent to God’s transformation and healing.  Isn’t that what our souls crave – to be known fully yet loved for the very person we are?  We are safe in God’s presence to step out from the pretenses we create.

 

The defenses we hide behind become so interwoven into our identity, we scarcely know where our real self ends and our false self begins.  God is already aware of our short-comings and sin.  Why hide?  Becoming aware of our self-deception is the starting point for God to work and transform what we’ve so long been trying to fix for all those years.  An easier and freer way exists and that begins and ends in our identity in Christ.  Slow down, get quiet and listen for God’s pulse.  God’s heart is beating for you.

Divine

Monday morning rolls around, and I am exhausted (because I stayed up too late Sunday night).  I reluctantly roll out of bed in the dark leaving sleep and warmth behind to spend my morning time alone with God.  I am reading the book of Jeremiah.  I put off reading the Old Testament prophets during the "Read the Bible in a Year" plan because of their doom and gloom prophecies.  Funny, now all I have left are the prophets.  You know the theme:  Israel has messed up again.  Now the consequence of their abandonment of God is coming to its full fruition, but God is promising restoration at the end of it all.  

This time around I am smacked with a different view:  Jeremiah is a relentless love ballad.  God pursues his beloved children; even though, they turn their backs.  God's heart is broken.  "'Return, faithless Israel,' declares the Lord, 'I will frown on you no longer, for I am merciful,' declares the Lord" (Jer. 3:12).

The majority of people have turned to doing things their own way.  God has become nothing more than a duty, an afterthought.  He has moved to the periphery.  "My people have committed two sins:  They have forsaken me, the spring of living water, and have dug their own cisterns, broken cisterns that cannot hold water" (Jer. 2:13).  The people have in essence told God, "Leave me alone!  I will do it myself."  However, the consequence of that attitude is disastrous:  greed, envy, broken relationships, pain, war.

In spite of our waywardness, God seeks, calls, pursues.  Divine love:  radically pervasive, scarcely recognizable, wholly encompassing.  Divine love shatters any conception of love we regularly experience.  We withhold; we're stingy and conditional.  Can we abandon our ideas and allow such extravagance to penetrate our lives?  We must first get out the seam rippers and tear out the old stitching - that slow, tedious process.  Then with God's presence, we reshape, repin while God restitches us anew.  Rethink love.  It is unlike anything we humanly experience.

"'Is not Ephraim my dear son, the child in whom I delight? ... I still remember him.  Therefore my heart yearns for him; I have great compassion for him,' declares the Lord" (Jer. 31:20).

Realignment

          Funny how initially bad things can turn out beneficial.  In the throes of an illness, I was forced to put aside all my responsibilities:  no laundry, no cooking, no computer, no Bible reading, no word-filled prayers.  I finally had permission to set everything aside … with no guilt.  My prayers consisted of, “Here I am God, in your hands.  I’m listening.”  All I heard was … peace.  No worry, anxiety, or fear.  Stripped down, peeled back, exposed, I lay before God, not pursuing, not striving, not doing anything.

                Looking back, I suspect, in part, I’ll miss that week of being sick.  While I’m up to my neck in school, family, and church life, I’ll look for those quiet reprieves, longing to be still in mind and spirit.  Getting away from the noise of life sometimes comes in unexpected forms.  Not realizing how I was striving, I was surprised at what God revealed.

Too often “doing” defines our faith.  We do the right things initially for the right reasons, only to be left frazzled and tired.  Author, Sue Kidd, remarks, “Maybe we are meant to journey not only toward God or even for God, but with God.  With.”  What a huge difference a preposition makes.  “My yoke is easy and my burden is light,” Jesus reminds us in Matthew’s Gospel.  However, certain sly behaviors and expectations get added to what God says.

Slapping on frill and superfluous deeds, we burden ourselves.  Sometimes our lives develop such a routine and rigor that joy is squeezed dry.  The antidote is Christ, our rest.  “We must not put any confidence in the righteousness of works, and we must not ascribe to works any glory,” the 16^th century reformer, John Calvin, reminds.  Nothing we do can earn our salvation.  Our good works are like dirty wash rags when compared to the purity of God.  We cannot be right with Christ if any part of us remains tainted with an attitude of “I can do it myself.”  Being right with God by faith is contradictory to trying to earn right standing with God by deeds. 

                Now hear me loud and clear, I am not talking about the deeds that stem from an intimate relationship with God.  The Holy Spirit is not silent and stirs believers into action who bear the sweet, ample fruit of the Spirit.  If believers are not in engaged in such acts, then you wonder if they have any faith at all.  No, I am not talking about that.  What I am talking about is works righteousness:  where we rely on our strength to draw us closer to God:  “… [To] appear before God’s face unto salvation we must smell sweetly with his odor, and our vices must be covered and buried by his perfection.” (Calvin’s Institutes).

                So how often do we find ourselves striving and reaching instead of waiting on God?  How often do we pick up our faith on our shoulders and try to grow it through self-will?  We cannot make our hearts upright.  That’s God’s job.  Only when united with God’s Spirit can any work be seen as pleasing God.  No one can fulfill the perfection of God.  Too vast a separation exists between God’s holiness and our humanness.  That gulf exists because of our self-will, pride, sin.

                Our acts don’t make us right, only faith can do that - faith imparted through the blood of Jesus.  God begins our faith; God will grow our faith.  We simply need to respond:  to seek to know and be known by God.  But I know that no matter how persistent or studious or tenacious I am in my pursuit of godly things, I cannot grow my faith or even make myself love God more.  That’s God’s job!  I’ve crossed the line.  Back up, back down, and relax.  More importantly trust God’s rhythm.  Sometimes all I do is hinder. 

Submit?!

         Now, I’m reading through Ephesians, following along with the Bible-in-a-Year plan (or a year and a half…maybe two – I’m busy!).  I love the book of Ephesians, written by Paul, a passionate, devoted, insightful, cranky-at-times man of God.  He wrote it around the year 60 to a body of believers who lived in Ephesus in modern-day Turkey, mainly as a letter to strengthen and encourage the churches in the area. 

However, I have to admit, it has a few verses that cause me to cringe.  I have to slow down and read deeper.  You, ladies, know the ones:  “Wives, submit to your husbands as to the Lord.  For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church…Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything.” (Eph. 5:22-24 NIV).  Ok, I confess, I hear nails scratching down the chalk-board when I read that.  Now, this is the hundredth time I’ve read this book – not really – but I’ve already worked through this; why is this bothering me again?!

Before my life in Christ, I prided myself on my fierce independence.  I wanted no one to support me!  I worked; I paid my bills.  I was smart, capable.  Dependence showed weakness.  In fact, when I had my first child, I wretched in the fact that my heart wanted to stay home with my son; I wanted to quit working.  I hated my vulnerability!  But my heart won out.  I took the step of complete trust in my husband.  And you know what, it was one of the better decisions I’ve made.

So, I stop, I read the verses right before and right after.  Paul implores all the readers – husbands, fathers, brothers – free and slave – to “submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.”  Then in verse 25, “Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her…”  Paul is talking about a mutual submission of sorts here.  This isn’t the twisted worldly view of the word “submit” where there is an abuse of power.  In Paul’s use of the word, it is a yielding to each other.

            Paul was inherently concerned for the welfare of the church.  He sought to build up the body of Christ.  That couldn’t happen if people were concerned for their own self-interest.  He sought unity in the body.  As Christians, we must yield to each other, putting each other’s needs above our own.  If my husband were attempting to love me (and I believe he is) the way Christ loved the church, to love me as his own body, then what fear do I have in yielding to him?  There is nothing twisted or abusive about that.  He has my best interest at heart, as I do for him.  Beauty arises out of that kind of mutuality.

            This kind of submission is walking in harmony with my husband, recognizing and appreciating his unique gifts and abilities.  It is being a source of support and encouragement.  It is respect.  It is love.  And wow, when it’s reciprocated – watch out!  It’s hot!

Humility

…All of you, clothe yourselves with humility toward one another, because, “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.”  Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time.  Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.

(1 Peter 5:5-7)

 

            Darting across the lush expanse of the lawn, my son chases me down.  Feeling like a gazelle being chased by a lioness, I scream with anticipation as he tags me. “What!?  He can catch me?”  I was sprinting as fast as possible.  When did this happen?  He’s becoming stronger, taller, and faster.

                “Tag!  You’re it!”  Hysterically laughing, I spin around to chase after him.  I can’t reach him.  Hmmph!  Strategize… Let him come to me.  I’ll have to pretend not to pursue him.  I’ll run after my other children.  Yet, I’m only a few years away of being outrun by them too.  In a sense, I must grow lesser as they grow stronger allowing them to become independent and autonomous.  I must let go in an act of humility.  

Not that I’ve come close to mastering it, but I see the beauty of humility.  Revealing the path to unity, humility places the needs of the other above selfish pride.  Humility is a realization of God-given purpose, not at all derogating, weak, or permissive.  It is an act of love, an act of strength.

                Humility is placing myself under the authority of God.  The root of humility stems from a trust that God cares and has my best interest at heart.  Humility deepens the more I seek and know the God of the Bible.  It is the lessening of my willfulness so I can honestly say, “Have your way in me, God.”

                Humility is an act of the will – my will.  It is a decision – a way of being in relation to God (and others).  It is an act of love, of adoration, of gratitude.  It is realizing the full potential of God working in me by allowing him to work unrestrained in and through my life.

                I am learning to shed my view of God based upon my view of earthly relationships and focus on the true God of the Scriptures.  I am learning to strip back the layers of self-preservation, fear, and mistrust that keep me guarded and isolated from knowing the full love of God:  the God whose love is so wide and long and high and deep that I couldn’t even swim its depths (Eph. 3:18).  God’s love is so rich that we would joyfully pay any price to keep (Matt, 13:44-46).  God’s love protects like a mighty fortress overcoming all the attacks of the enemy without retreating (Ps. 91). 

                God’s perfect love inspires, stirs hope, and imparts life.  His love heals – not just superficially, but profoundly – to the core.  The love that penetrates to the darkest recesses of our souls, never shrinking back, but always pursuing, waiting for us to decide…

                What will it be?  Will we choose to mask over the darkness, separation, and pain that exist, closing ourselves off from God?  Or will we humbly and courageously invite this loving God in to shine his light and love which at last brings the deepest healing?  Our souls have been unknowingly yearning for that freedom.  We are captive until he sets us free. 

                Overwhelming gratitude emanates when we experience and believe in the goodness of Christ.  Humility is one of many responses, but it takes a faith which can only be imparted by God.  What an immeasurable treasure!  

Paige's Story, Part 2

“…what we see is that anyone united with the Messiah gets a fresh start, is created new.  The old life is gone; a new life burgeons!  Look at it!  All this comes from the God who settled the relationship between us and him…” (2 Cor 5:17-18)

 

            Opening the book, she acquiesced and softened to the easy style of the author.  What he wrote was clear.  It made sense.  He certainly offered a new perspective.  Immediately, she fumed.  She felt the impotence of her former churches.  Why hadn’t she been spoken to like that:  clear and relevant?  In her experience, church was a ritualistic and hollow experience, something done to pacify the guilty conscious.  It was a deed.  But of course it was for her; it could be nothing else.  The service could be beautiful, but not transformative.  It didn’t hold the power to communicate to her heart.

            However, something strange was happening during the reading.  Instead of responding with skepticism, she started agreeing.  What Graham was writing made sense in her heart.  For the first time, she began to glimpse a God who loves, a God who is good, and incomparably perfect and holy.  In comparison, she was filthy!  She had never viewed herself like that before; she was good and always trying to improve.  But in that moment, the floodgates of agony over her pride, self-sufficiency, fear, and anxiety overtook her!  The desire to be right with God and to finally believe felt confounding.  She was agreeing with God!  The door to God’s amazing love opened and the tears of confession fell.

            Adjusting in her seat, she felt awkward about the close proximity of the man sitting next to her.  “What’s up with her?”  She imagined him wondering.  Standing up, she made the way back to the cramped, malodorous bathroom.  At least she could be alone to process what was going on.  Door locked.  “Oh, God!  What’s happening to me?  I’ve been wrong.  I had no idea.  Forgive me…”  She sobbed, letting it go, breaking off from the past.

            After a while, the intensity subsided.  She regained composure returning to her seat and the book.  Devouring every word, she inhaled every concept Graham was writing.  She didn’t want to miss a point.   A raw hunger arose from within. 

            The plane landed.  Walking through the airport, she grappled with the experience and her newfound feelings.  She felt a freedom which lifted her a mile high.  Were the darkness and anxiety gone?  She had always carried those weights around; they weren’t there anymore.  In their place serenity, purpose and love – unexplainable love – remained.  Laughing aloud she wondered, “Was this for real?  Did I just have a conversion experience?  Is this love I now feel toward God?”

She saw differently too.  It was as though she were looking through a clear lens; the scales that colored her world gray had fallen from her eyes.  Now, the vibrancy of God’s truth colored everything she saw. 

Residing in a peace about what lay ahead, she no longer wrestled with the inevitable end.  She felt peace in spite of the outcome.  That made no human sense!  The sorrow remained, but it wasn’t tearing at her soul.

Is this change sustaining?  “Oh God, let this be the new me, not a fleeting experience.  This is too good.  What I’ve missed out on!”  She cried from her heart.  She paused at the thought of returning home to her husband and children.  How would they receive the “new” her?  Would her husband scoff or understand this metamorphosis?  

In spite of that, a passion was fanning into flames.  She needed to know this God, this Jesus.  She needed to read the Word, to grow, to pray, to seek after this God who set her free.   A new direction marked her life:  a life radically altered, set free from the power of sin, a life now lived out of gratitude and in harmony toward God – never to be bound again.

Paige's Story, Part 1

“It wasn’t so long ago that you were mired in that old stagnant life of sin.  You let the world, which doesn’t know the first thing about living, tell you how to live.  You filled your lungs with polluted unbelief, and then exhaled disobedience.” (Eph 2:1-2)

 

            Stepping onto the plane, she had no idea the outcome of the weekend.  Her mind wrestled, twisted.  Her heart, darkened and heavy, filled with foreboding at what lay ahead.  As wet leaves suffocate the verdant grass, so doubt and questions seemed to strangle her life.  Was there any hope of resuscitation?  She didn’t want just to return to her old normal life; there had to be more.  “Oh God!” she wanted to cry out, more out of desperation than faith, “Where is the meaning in this?  Is there more to life than this?”  If not, then the twisted, hopeless situation would surely threaten to overwhelm her, leaving her bare and naked.  Life had been hitting her squarely in the gut leaving her breathless, hurting, and writhing.

            Finding her seat, she stuffed her bag under the seat and settled down.  Lost in her thoughts, she avoided making eye contact.  “Just get me there,” she mumbled.  The plane filled and before long they were in the air. 

            The darkness seemed to be a comforting friend; even though, it was a vile enemy.  It snuck into her life during those conflicting adolescent years, dimming her sight, coloring her actions with various hues of gray.  Even though, she was well past that era of life, that pervasive cloud always threatened on the horizon to overtake her.  It mocked and called her.  Attempting to ignore the plea, she bore down and tried to focus her mind elsewhere.  Her needs were more than amply met.  She shares the love of a husband and children, so why this deep longing and dissatisfaction?  Why does one hard blow from life leave her as though she is standing on the edge of this cavernous pit?

            The month prior, in desperation and inspiration, she drove to the bookstore to search for something:  answers, hope, reason.  As if a bookstore could provide all that!  Walking tepidly to the religion section, she grabbed an armload of books that looked like they may contain answers:  books about suffering, the will of God, the historical Jesus.  The earnest searching became driven and focused.

            She reached into her bag diverting her attention from the task that lay before her upon arrival and pulled forth one of those books.  A book by Billy Graham.  She snickered, “How cheesy is this? Why did I pick this one?”  A flash of embarrassment flushed over her cheeks.  Other than his national fame, she knew little about him.  Skeptical, yet hopeful, it was more the topic that appealed to her:  death and heaven.

            The news of her father’s impending death loomed large in her mind:  a man who was full of life, humor, and love, but is now stricken, suffering, withering away.  It seems a pathetic, merciless end as his dignity and abilities are stripped away leaving him helpless.  And here she is flying to pack up his belongings and go through the remainder of his life – all that he worked for, all that he is…was – into little boxes.  The knife twisted leaving a lump in her throat.  But, she hardened, decisions need to be made; the roles have reversed.

 

            To be continued…