Some Clear Joy is Coming

Today marks the end of a long, hard week. Moments of agonizing frustration, of world-weariness, and a sense of loss have taken their place, irreconcilably, alongside moments of unexpected and unbridled joy: A brother at war sends home a troubling note. Audrey tip-taps down the hallway reciting, "Toe-heel! Toe-heel!" An article in the paper tells of a 70-year-old Polish-American who died in the plane crash along with the Polish President. He was killed on his way to achieving his life's dream: to commemorate the Katyn Massacre, which claimed his father's life. I look up from the paper: a vision of red-and-white stripes scampers past me through the kitchen; then sounds of shrieking laughter, of Dutch shouting in his most carnivorous bear voice, "I'm gonna snuggle you into the ground!" A phone call: Dutch, are you free to say a few words at the funeral? Evangeline takes her first steps - one, two, three, four in a row! Oh, how we applaud!

This - this comingling of joy and pain, beauty and horror, laughter and grief - is life, after all, but all I could do, this evening, was shake my head and stand back in bafflement, a fearsome (and even fearful) sense of awe.

It was then I read the resurrected Christ's first words to His disciples when He appeared in their midst: "Peace be with you!" he says (John 21.20). "My peace I leave with you." It would seem empty consolation indeed if not for the fact that Christ's death accomplished just that: Peace. Peace between God and man. Peace where there should be separation. Peace where there should be only wrath.

Now, because of the propitious death of Jesus Christ, we who were once far off have been brought near. A way stands open for us, a door that no one can close, to approach the living God of the Universe and plead for mercy and help in times of need.

And so Christ says to Mary Magdalene as she sits weeping outside His empty tomb, "Go to my brothers and tell them, ‘I am returning to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God’” (John 20.17). His words prove that we who were once only sinners, worthy of destruction, are now Sons, destined for glory; our Savior is our brother and He lives this moment at the right hand of the throne of God, praying for us. We may have trouble - now and always; but we have nothing to fear for our Sanctifier is our Friend; and before He ascended into Heaven He promised us, "Lo, I will be with you always, even to the end of the age" (Matthew 28.20).

Dear, sweet Audrey and Evangeline,

My darling girls. You are so alike. You laugh alike, and cry alike, you both have the same delicate point of a chin; the same finely sculpted nose. Yet you are so different.

As of late you love to play ‘ship’ – to throw all the couch pillows onto the floor and make your ‘deck’ in the empty cradle of the couch. Evangeline, you are so proud of your athleticism! You pull yourself up to a standing position and slap your hands and bounce and squeal and throw your eyes at me as if to say, Look what I can do!

Audrey, you are busy collecting and arranging your toys: princesses and ponies and second-hand purses from my college days. You took all the golden tassels off the doorknobs, and scraps of ribbon out of the hatbox, and fastened them round the necks of your horses like garlands in a Spring parade.

Last night Daddy was in California and we went out for dinner, just the three of us. Evangeline, you contented yourself by sucking on a lemon wedge while Audrey slurped water through her straw like a teenager drinking a dime-store milkshake.

“Oh, how's your day at the Bible study?” you (Audrey) asked, between sips. “How’s your day with – Daddy?”

“We had a lovely time,” I said, feeling suddenly like a child playing grown-up. “We went out to dinner...and we talked... and we prayed that God would make us better parents.”

“Oh,” said you, “You – you tell me a story please, Mudder – about Audrey?”

“Alright," I said, propping my elbows on the table, "Once upon a time there were two sisters: Audrey and Evangeline. And they were the best of friends. One morning in springtime they planted a vegetable garden in their backyard – they raked the dirt and dug holes with their spades. Then they separated the seeds into piles and dropped them one by one into the ground. They covered the holes over with soil and patted and watered them. Because they lived in the desert the seeds enjoyed plenty of sun."

Soon the seeds sprouted; and as the spring days wore on they grew and grew. By the time July came the watermelon plant had grown especially tall – its leafy green stalk stretched as high as the sky and disappeared through a roof of clouds.

One afternoon, Audrey had an idea. ‘Let’s have a picnic!’ she said to Evangeline, ‘Let’s have a picnic way up in the clouds!’"

So the two girls packed a basketful of goodies: crackers and cheese, blueberries and chocolate and lemonade, and they climbed up the watermelon stalk until they had disappeared straight into the clouds."

Evangeline spied the perfect cloud – fluffy and soft as a cotton ball – where they laid out their blanket and spread out their feast. Only there was one problem: the cloud was thin as mist and they kept sinking just like Dumbo all swaddled in the stork’s handkerchief!

Audrey, who was heavier than Evangeline, began to sink first. And when Evangeline saw her she grabbed her arm and pulled and pulled and pulled with all her might until Audrey was safe atop the cloud. But the force of her pulling had caused Evangeline to begin sinking and Audrey hadn’t time to catch her breath before she had to grab her sister's arm and pull and pull and pull until Evangeline, too, was safe.”

“And that my dear girls,” I said with a nod, “is how I hope it will be between the two of you someday.”

“You mean if – if – if she’s sinking then I’m gonna save her?” you (Audrey) asked.

“Yes," I said, "And if you’re sinking then she's gonna save you.”

It's a lovely picture; and I hope it will come true.

Love,

Your Mudder

Desert Blooms

Spring

NOTHING is so beautiful as spring—
When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush;
Thrush’s eggs look little low heavens, and thrush
Through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring
The ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing;
The glassy peartree leaves and blooms, they brush
The descending blue; that blue is all in a rush
With richness; the racing lambs too have fair their fling.

What is all this juice and all this joy?
A strain of the earth’s sweet being in the beginning
In Eden garden.—Have, get, before it cloy,
Before it cloud, Christ, lord, and sour with sinning,
Innocent mind and Mayday in girl and boy,
Most, O maid’s child, thy choice and worthy the winning.

~Gerard Manley Hopkins

Tea with Blueberries

the remains of the day

A Picture of Progress

When Evangeline crawled into the bathroom to find me sitting on a stool reading "Frederick" by Leo Lionni, Audrey threw me a look of exasperation. "Oh, get her out mom! Get her out, please!"

"Why?" I asked, pulling Evangeline onto my lap.

"Because," Audrey moaned, "I need some "preever-seat."

He is Risen Indeed!

Dear Dutch,

Romans 11.29 says, “God's gifts and his call are irrevocable.” The word irrevocable in Greek means “without repentance” or “not to be repented of,” implying that when God chooses to bestow His favor and calling on someone, He never regrets it.

He’s never sorry. And I can’t help but think that this is because salvation and sanctification depend entirely upon Him. He doesn’t doubt Himself. He knows He can finish the work He began in us because the work is His to do – and He has done it!

He knows our end from our beginning. He sees the verdant silhouette of the sprawling tree inside the acorn long before it has begun to sprout. Its telos – or completion – is inevitable because the process of teleological evolution, once begun, cannot be rescinded.

I wholeheartedly believe that God has placed an irrevocable call on your life. My heart is with you just as Deborah’s heart was with Israel’s princes who rode into battle, “with the willing volunteers among the people” (Judges 5.9).

I am so proud to be your wife and I cannot wait to see what He accomplishes in and through you.

Happy, happy, happy birthday,

Love, Your Dutch-ess

Resurrection Life

"I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full." ~John 10.10

On this evening of Good Friday my spirit is greatly burdened: the death of a child, a diagnosis of cancer, the brutal murder of a friend all fill me with sorrow. Perhaps for this reason I cannot help but consider the tremendous lengths that Christ went to in order to grant us life in Him.

Everywhere I look in Scripture I see Christ – His presence in the garden breathing life into man; His spirit in Melchizedek, priest of Salem, or, priest of peace, blessing Abraham for believing what was revealed to him; His pre-incarnate Spirit appearing to Joshua as he prepared to go into battle. Christ, born to woman, “becomes an infant small, He becomes a man of woe” and “doth feel [our] sorrow too.” He dies the death of an outcast and criminal in order to re-infuse man with His breath of Life – to make us holy sons and daughters, inheritors of His riches, and citizens in His kingdom.

In Him we are not only resurrected spiritually – Christ bringing to life that which in us was dead because of sin --- but we have the hope of physical resurrection. Death has lost both its power and sting.

The resurrected Christ returns to Heaven and sits even now at the right hand of the Father, praying for us, but not before giving us His Spirit - “And if the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead is living in you,” says Paul, “he who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through his Spirit, who lives in you.”

How easily the difficulties of life cause me to forget how great is the power of Christ in me! How much I long to let all visions of earthly sorrow and death throw the depth and meaning and glorious fact of His resurrection into high relief!

We are promised trouble in this life; indeed, we look around us and everywhere there is trouble. But the death and resurrection of Christ means that I can endure the trials of life in His strength, drawing life from His life and breath from His breath just as the unborn child receives nutrients from the life of its mother.

Not only so but the more I experience of sorrow and decay, suffering and death, the larger His life looms inside me. Though outwardly I am undergoing a process of decay; inwardly, I am undergoing a process of renewal.

"Since mine eyes have looked on Jesus,
I've lost sight of all beside,
So enchained my spirit's vision,
Gazing on the Crucified."

~Oswald Chambers

(Since when do a plastic potty, an empty coffee cup, and a bottle of red wine go together? Since I started potty training.)

Day four of potty training. Today we went through fifteen pairs of underwear but as of yet, no success. Sigh. There’s nothing like running to and from the toilet every twenty minutes for three days straight to put a damper on one’s resolve. It's hard to resist the sense of futility and failure that rushes to meet me the moment I fall into bed.

I know that when you are training young children "victory" takes many forms. A mature woman recently told me that when she was home with three young children she judged her day a success based on whether she remained clothed and in her right mind.

Still, there is a part of me that wants some tangible proof of all my labor; and I would venture to say I am not unique in this desire: as human beings we all want to have “something to show” for the sum of our efforts.

But here I must remind myself that it is not a matter of what I have to show for my works; it is what He has to show for His. The work of Christ on the Cross means that I am His masterpiece, His living poemas – “written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God” (2. Cor. 3.3).

And as such I am in the process of becoming something more marvelous it is beyond imagining… “It is by grace I am what I am,” says Paul, affirming the idea that it is not what we do that is of utmost importance – it is who we are. Christ is the penultimate finisher of what He starts. He promises that, in the end, He will present us without fault and with great joy before the glorious presence of His Father...(Jude 1.24).

God has given me work to do; plenty of it. But my real labor is in believing “in the living God, who is the Savior of all men” (1 Tim. 4.10); and not allowing myself to get bogged down by all the (in my case, literal) refuse that begs to be the central focus of all my days.

Ultimately, my goal isn’t just to get Audrey out of diapers. My goal is to assist her in acquiring the character qualities that will enable her to become the woman He designed her to be. “For physical training is of some value,” Paul says, “but godliness has value for all things, holding promise for both the present life and the life to come” (1 Tim. 4.8).

“I can’t do it!” Audrey squealed at one point this afternoon. Sweetheart, neither can I, I wanted to say. Not in my own strength; but thanks be to God I don't have to. For His blood sacrifice ... has provided me another way of getting through life: and that is by relying on Him.

The Redemption of Christ means that those things which, on the one hand, seem to oppress me can also be opportunities to be transformed. Thus rather than expending all my energies resisting the challenges of life - whatever their form - I want to embrace these challenges, believing they are ordained by him to drive me further into His arms.

“Let the beloved of the Lord rest secure in him, for he shields him all day long, and the one the Lord loves rests between his shoulders.” ~ Deuteronomy 33.12