This Stinks

Death stinks.

 

It’s the odor of nothingness, the smell of loss, the end of what might have been.  And there’s nothing pleasant about it.

 

Our sweet puppy went to sleep in the night and didn’t wake up this morning.

 

We just brought her home yesterday, full of excited anticipation.  Our hearts were primed to love her. How quickly our house of joy has become a house of mourning!  Our grief is the sharp pain of a sudden, unexpected cut. And it doesn’t make sense to us, but what I know is this – there’s no shortage of sorrow in the world.  I’m so very grateful for the moments of joy because they are no small thing.

 

This first real encounter with death has prompted a lot of tear-filled questions.  Do all dogs go to heaven?  I don’t know the answer to this, but why not? Why shouldn’t they?  It seems to me that people are the ones who are always trying to make up rules about who gets in and who’s left out.  God always seems to be going out of His way, doing the extraordinary, to redeem His creation so it can share in His heaven.

 

What if I had…?  There’s no blame here. No man can stop death. God ordains all our days, even this one.  He has a time and purpose for every season. He’s redeeming all things, buying back the pain and the sorrow and the loss, as well as weaving the joy and laughter into His good plan.  And it is a good plan.  Our plans are focused on our circumstances.  God’s plans are focused on our hearts. He allows what He allows, He does what He does, in order to bring us into a restored relationship with Him.

 

If God is just, why did He let this happen?  I don’t know the answer to this, either.  Death is the immovable reminder we all run up against eventually that God’s ways aren’t the ways of man.  What I do know, and am completely convinced of, is that God is good. He understands what most of us forget – this world isn’t the end of all things.

 

Sorrow is better than laughter, for sadness has a refining influence in our lives. The heart of the wise learns when it is in the house of mourning.  Ecclesiastes 7:3-4

 

And as I’m comforting my kids and crying my own tears, I’m struck all over again by what an incredible hope we have.  Because here we are faced with a circumstance that we’re powerless over, that we can do nothing to change, and God says, I promise there’s still hope.  It’s a hope that isn’t only for this day, or for this life – it’s so much stronger than that.  It’s a hope stronger even than death.

 

So today we’re sitting with our sorrow and learning hard lessons.  Today we’re being refined in the cold fire of grief. There are tears, but there will be gladness. There is mourning, but there will be joy.

 

In that day, he will remove the cloud of gloom, the shadow of death that hangs over the earth.  He will swallow up death forever! The Sovereign Lord will wipe away all tears… In that day the people will proclaim, “This is our God.  We trusted in him, and he saved us. This is the Lord, in whom we trusted. Let us rejoice in the salvation he brings!” Isaiah 25:7-9

Waiting for Wednesday

Right now my kids can’t wait for Wednesday.  That’s the day we bring our new puppy home. They’re wishing away every moment between now and then in eager anticipation of puppy snuggles and an overload of cuteness.  I love how their eyes light up every time they think of it.

 

Hard as we try, wish as we might, we can never hurry time. It’s as unresponsive to our desires as a mountain.  We can neither influence it nor alter its course. But God can. He made day and night and at least once He stopped time in its tracks (Joshua 10:13).  He exists outside of time. For Him there is no hurry up, no too late or too soon. He always does things at just the right time (Romans 5:6).

 

Sometimes that’s hard for us to stomach when God isn’t operating on our schedule.  We’re eagerly waiting for a much desired event or we’re longing for just one more moment with a loved one.  We want to jump over the growing season to the harvest. But we shouldn’t wish away what God has ordained because there’s a time for every purpose and purpose in all our days (Ecclesiastes 3:1, Psalm 139:16).

 

As I was thinking about this, Esther came to mind.  She’s the Jewish woman who became queen of Persia, a position of access and influence, not long before her people were threatened with genocide.  Her uncle, Mordecai, urged her to approach the king and ask for mercy: “Who can say but that you have been elevated to the palace for just such a time as this? (Esther 4:14)   Esther gathered the courage to approach the king and found favor with him. The king then offered her up to half his kingdom, and all she asked him for was a lunch date. And when he repeated the offer at lunch, she asked him to come for lunch again the next day.

 

I’ve always wondered about that part.  Did she lose her nerve? Was there a subtle bit of statesmanship going on?  But then I think about God, the unseen actor in this drama. Because during the night in between lunches, God stirred up the king so he couldn’t sleep.  And God selected the king’s nighttime reading material, which reminded him of an unpaid debt to Mordecai. It was during that sleepless night, not at the banquet, that Esther’s enemy was brought low.

 

What if Esther had asked on day one?  What seems like doubt or hesitation was really the pacing of God’s perfect timing.  While we would hurry Him along, He’s working behind the scenes to accomplish His good purposes at just the right time. He knows our moments are fleeting, a mere vapor.  He will not delay too long.  He will not miss the opportunity to rescue you, to fulfill His promises to you.

 

Are we willing to wait for God? Will we trust that the One who made the sun stand still will also bring all things to pass just as He has said?  Time isn’t a problem for Him. He’s not subject to it, but Lord over it. It’s a tool He uses to shape our character, to fine tune our confidence that He is the One who is in charge of all things and working them all into His plans for good.  We might not be able to see it – yet – but we can trust Him to reveal Himself and the good He’s been up to at the perfect time.