The problem is, sometimes we really don’t like any of our choices. And that’s kind of where I am at this moment in my life. Actually, I find myself with an undesirable choice every single morning – and multiple times throughout each day.
After all, no one wants to be the mother of a child who died. It’s the club that no one wants to join. But here I am, ready or not.
I still have a choice to make though – whether I want to choose or not. Will I wake up each morning, grateful for the new mercies God offers, and live out the Christ-centered mandate on my own life? Or will I crawl deeper into this hole of despair and give up?
To be honest, there are days that the dark cave of despair seems my better option. At least in the darkness of that hole, I can hide from the reality of living each earthly day without our son. Yep, in the dark, I can avoid the world that marches happily on without him.
But in the dark, I cannot see the beauty of all he left behind for each of us to remember – and pass on. And in the blackness of despair, I cannot see and appreciate the gifts of grace, mercy, and love that my faithful Savior continually sends me through His people.
So, this morning, once again, I made the choice to get up and follow Him into His Light. And I must admit that it was a glorious choice.
After a little rain shower last night, the 97-degree heat of yesterday was replaced by a much cooler, foggy morning. So, I sat on the back patio in my new lime-green Adirondack chair (a gift of love from my husband who also makes a choice each day to come out of the cave of despair), and I drank my coconut coffee and had some time with God in His Word.
I was drawn to read Revelation 3:14-22, to be precise, and it was a familiar passage written to the church at Laodicea. Now, I am not a theologian, but I have sat under some wise Bible scholars. These steadfast and insightful men of God taught me the history of the seven churches of Asia addressed in Revelation, all of which were founded in the earliest days of Christianity.
Many of those same scholars suggested that this passage might also be a symbolic reference to modern-day Americans, or at least, a timely admonition to today’s self-centered culture of prosperity and rebellion against God.
Regardless of how it’s read and interpreted, I knew the basic gist of the story when I started reading this morning. But my bruised and broken heart was not quite ready for the stark, loving truth the Holy Spirit spoke to me in Verse 18:
I counsel thee to buy of me gold tried in the fire, that thou mayest be rich; and white raiment, that thou mayest be clothed, and that the shame of thy nakedness do not appear; and anoint thine eyes with eyesalve, that thou mayest see (KJV).
I sighed loudly and said, “Yes, Lord! We are definitely being ‘tried in the fire’ every single day as we have to live this earthly life without our son. And worst of all, there is no way out of this fire. Chris is gone, and we are still here, doing our best to carry on without him.”
My words hung in the air a moment before I heard His still, small voice lovingly reply, “So why not bring Me all your treasures into the fire with you and let Me refine it all?”
I practically yelled, Wait! Say that again.
He quietly did: “Why not let me go ahead and refine every part of you in this fire?”
Talk about tough love! But I knew the truth when I heard it!
And since we are facing the most trying time of our lives as a family, why not let God use it completely and fully? Why not make sure each moment of this pain carries His purpose to total fruition?
I mean – if we must endure it, let’s not waste it.
After all, 1 Peter 1: 7 reminds us, “That the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise and honour and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ” (KJV).
And Psalm 119:90-91 declares: “Your faithfulness endures to all generations; you have established the earth, and it stands fast. By your appointment they stand this day, for all things are your servants” (ESV).
Wow! All things are His servants – even grief. God sees, He knows, and He cares. In fact, Psalm 56 reminds us that He collects all our tears in a bottle and records them in His book.
How amazing to know that whenever I cry for my son during this fiery time of grief, the very Maker of the Universe loves me so much that He catches my tears, and He is recording each watery drop of my sorrow as it falls from my eye.
No, I readily admit that I do not understand why or for what purpose we are enduring this pain. But my Lord does, and I trust Him, for He alone is the Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and the End.
Yep, this morning I made another choice, right there at the foot of Jesus.
I chose to bring all my treasures into His refining fire. I purposed to give God everything, even my absolute despair and my lack of understanding. With complete trust, I asked Him to take every part of this pain and make it into something beautiful. Something He could use. Something that would point others to His mercy and grace – His salvation.
And now, as I write the last lines of this blog with tears flowing down my face, I purposefully make that choice again. I choose Jesus, over and over again.
For I know that one day, when I finally see Him (and I see Chris again), I will fall at the feet of my precious Savior and pour each and every one of my bottled tears in grateful worship onto the nail-pierced and fire-bronzed feet of the One who walked through and conquered the very flames of Hell for me, for my child – and for you.
So why not just go ahead and give Him everything, even your fieriest trials? After all, He’s right there in the fire with you. He always has been, and He always will be. Choose Jesus because He first chose you.
That the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise and honour and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ….(1 Peter 1:7)
