An evening Encounter

Brushed across the sky, the subtle rainbow of color caught my breath as the sky darkened into night, closing out the day. Parallel streams of streetlights intensified against the deepening shadows of nature. It was an ordinary evening turning into night, but it shouted, “God!” The certainty of His genius and creativity was etched into His handiwork and declared His eternal presence and absolute sovereignty. God. Creator, Sustainer, Ruler, King of Kings and Lord of Lords. Holy, majestic, perfection of purity, with a heart that pulsates deeply and passionately for the people He has given life to. The lover who would give His all to meet the needs of those He loves – and He did. I saw it all and felt it all, and rehearsed its truth as my spirit swelled with the grateful awe of worship, and I was riding in my car, alone, on my way to church. The songs of worship led by the young people on the stage added to the praise that was already in my heart. And then, the young woman who stood before the congregation, paused, hesitated, and attempted to quiet her emotions as her words spoke of tragedy, very recent tragedy, the death of a child who had begun a ride to school on his bike within the immediate neighborhood of our church, and his life was ended by a vehicle whose driver did not see him until it was too late. A family will never be the same again, their hearts as twisted and trampled as the small bike their child had been riding. A family that loves God and worships Him, a family who can know the hope of eternity for a little boy, but a family who will grieve with a pain that suffocates. And then again, we were singing. How great is our God, sing with me, how great is our God, and all will see how great, how great is our God ..... Age to age He stands, and time is in His hands, beginning and the end, beginning and the end ..... Name above all names, worthy of all praise, my heart will sing, how great is our God. And with the reality of tragedy still close and fresh, we sang once more, How great is our God, sing with me, how great is our God, and all will see how great, how great is our God. I pondered our God and I pondered life. Does His greatness still stand in the wake of tragedy? Does heartache obliterate His worthiness and His eternality? I knew the answers even as I asked the questions. The lover who gave His all to meet the needs of those He loves – still loves and still gives. The one whose heart pulsates deeply and passionately for the people He has given life to, He understands our sorrows, He carries us and holds us. The sustenance He gives to His creation profusely flows from His insatiable love to comfort, to care, to wipe away the tears that stain the darkness. Let all that I am wait quietly before God, for my hope is in him. O my people, trust in him at all times. Pour out your heart to him, for God is our refuge. He tends his flock like a shepherd: he gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart. – Bev (Related Bible reading: Psalm 62:5-8; Isaiah 40:11)

Your Story

Romans 1:11-12 “I long to see you so that I may impart to you some spiritual gifts to make you strong – that is, that you and I may be mutually encouraged by each other’s faith.” The older I have become, the more I am aware of moments in my life and the power that moments have. Moments, whether they are good or difficult, can give us clarity and can change a mind. A moment can take us in a totally different direction. It can even save a life. The moment a child is born we become a mother. When our child dies, in that instant our life is changed forever. We, from that moment, determine what and how we will spend the time we have left here on this earth. It is in the flash of tiny moments we have options that can either lead us to a life with abundance or turn the rest of our moments into destruction. God lets us make that decision. Chuck Swindoll wrote about our each individual makeup and moments. He wrote, “Because God gave you your makeup and superintended every moment of your past, including all the hardship, pain, and struggles, He wants to use your words in a unique manner. No one else can speak through your vocal cords, and, equally important, no one else has your story.” Your story needs to be heard. Your moment in time must be told. Your story might be the one story someone needs to hear. It is the cadence and the words only you use that can bring clarity to that one mom who is blinded by grief. Your words might be the very words that will make a mom decide to live instead of die. We need to hear your story told in your words about your child. Come and spend a moment in time with us at any of our future Umbrella Ministries Conferences. I know I can speak for many moms that it was in the tiny moments of a personal story, in a weekend, that their lives were changed. I know mine was. Lord, I thank You for tiny moments, a sincere heart, and a personal story, all of which have the power to change a life. – Michele

Leslie's Story in Her Painting

Anniversaries

Anniversary. Usually, the word brings an anticipation, a celebratory sense of something good that has continued or something perhaps you were honored for many years ago, and it deserves to be given recognition and even festivity. My husband and I were approaching our fiftieth wedding anniversary, although we were far too young to be doing such a thing. And we were anticipating a celebration, maybe a river cruise in the Northwest or up the Hudson in New York. The word though is sometimes suffocated more in dread with nothing celebratory even being appropriate, and yet it is still an anniversary, one we cautiously, apprehensively, shrink from while at the same time knowing the disillusionment or heartache of its significance and knowing there is nothing within us that can ignore it or simply let it be another day. And sometimes such anniversaries come in a stark, foreboding parade. It’s the birthday that precedes or follows the anniversary of the death of a child or a spouse. And the memories come year after year after year. It’s the tragedy that made national, even international, headlines, but you and your family, in the midst of that tragedy faced loss upon loss. The calendar marks the holiday, but your own heart marks the anniversary that leaves your loved one absent. Even decades after the death of our infant daughter just before Christmas, we take time first to remember the daughter God gave before we remember the Son He gave. And for some, such timing gets very complicated. The week of 9/11 brings stark reminders of the tragedy our family was personally impacted by in many ways, but it also brings memories of the death of a brother, a son, and a dad who died just a few days before 9/11. And within that same week is a wedding anniversary of the mom and dad of the son who died, and their own marriage splintered while eight siblings struggled to survive childhood and teen years without a place called “home,” and then the dad who left his family, died, and that anniversary comes too in that same week of 9/11. Anniversaries. We can grow special memories through the good ones and celebrate with smiles and laughter. But, what do we do with the ones that bring a return to anguish, sorrow, and pain? I hear the pain in the voices of many moms who are drawing close to the anniversary of their child’s death. And it’s not just the first anniversary, or the second, or the tenth, or ............ It’s a time to remember and it’s a time to ask God to pick us up, hold us close, and let us feel the warmth of His embrace, let us ask our questions, and let us share the feelings that swell a mother’s heart. It’s a time, not to hide, but to seek out a friend. It’s a time to rehearse God’s promises, over and over and over. It’s a time to remember the good God has given even in our brokenness. It’s a time to be intentional. Do the things that are best for you to do – for some, it will be a quiet place; for others, it will be a place you once enjoyed together. And know the turmoil of emotions will quiet and soften once again, for another season, and your God will stay with you, encourage you, and grow within you a place of refuge you can share with still others. I waited patiently for the Lord to help me, and he turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the pit of despair, out of the mud and the mire. He set my feet on solid ground and steadied me as I walked along. He will feed his flock like a shepherd. He will carry the lambs in his arms, holding them close to his heart. He will gently lead the mother sheep with their young. He has given me a new song to sing, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see what he has done and be amazed. They will put their trust in the Lord. – Bev (Related Bible reading: Psalm 40:1-3; Isaiah 40:11; Isaiah 30:18-21)

A Rose From Heaven

It was April of 2011 when my husband Richard and I moved south, just west of Richmond, Virginia. We had lost our beautiful 14 year old daughter, Lacey Richelle, in 2002 from a fast and furious brain tumor; diagnosed and gone to Heaven in four days. Then two years later, her older brother, Matthew McKinnley, began a six year battle with a brain tumor, and went to Heaven on January 5, 2011. To say it was a difficult time would be a bit of an understatement. The Lord still was our strength and yes, our song, in all the pain and sorrow. Matt’s journey was not a new journey to us, but the same journey, with new strength to forge the uphill battle in the strength of our faithful Lord. He had never failed us and we both KNEW for certain where to go for hope, help, peace and yes, JOY!! How I prayed for JOY to return ..... again!! When May came around in our new home, I was surrounded by gardens of glorious beauty. God had given us our last seven months in Pennsylvania, a home one mile from the amazing Longwood Gardens. I was constantly grateful to the Lord as HIS creation feeds my soul like nothing else since childhood. It seemed I was made to live in the forest or a garden. This new home had 15 azaleas, camellias, nandina, roses, mahonia japonica and much, much more. We were surrounded by very tall trees. My favorite, a split leaf red maple in the front yard. It all brought me great joy after so much loss. Suddenly it was Mother's Day....again. Most of you know how difficult the week up to and including Sunday that week can be for all of us!! Early morning I woke, and knew I had had only four months into this loss; I had a rough day ahead of me, also tears were already falling. My dear man asked me, "Do you want to go to church?" I promptly said, "No, I don't want to see anyone -- just be alone and go kayaking." He was fine to go to church alone, perhaps, but I don't recall if he went or stayed home as well??? I was soon in the middle of our lake, crying and begging God for His HOPE and PRESENCE and SOMETHING to show me He saw me and was with me. I remember when Hagar SUDDENLY knew HE was the GOD who sees [Jehovah El Roi]. There was not another boat on the lake, only me. I began paddling as quickly as I could to see what could be out here in the water. Suddenly, lying perfectly in the water was floating a perfect PINK ROSE, stem down, as if it was in the biggest vase EVER. I began to cry even more knowing the GOD of this universe sees me and knew my sorrow and wanted me to know that HE is Always with me and sees me. This particular Mother's Day was unforgettable for me, and I hope a blessing to you. May the God of perfect peace give you all joy and peace as you trust in HIM alone. – Jeannette Taylor, laceymom88@yahoo.com

Came to Believe

John 11:25-26 “Jesus said to her, "I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in Me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?"

The stage is set, a loved one has died, and all of us who have loved this person are present at their funeral. There has been a lot of work that has led up to this day and thankfully, the busyness of all that is required of us has kept our mind from wandering. We have reserved the date and the venue; we have gone to the funeral home to make arrangements; we have chosen either a casket or an urn; we have prepared a program; we have gathered photographs, and we have carefully considered the music that will be played, and the day is finally here. We are grieving, full of sorrow, broken hearted that the life of this individual has come to an end, and even though it is over, hopefully this event will mark the final celebration of a life that was well-lived. But when it is all said and done and everything is cleaned up, everyone goes their own way, you are left with your own memories, your own thoughts and a very personal grief, and so begins the journey down a road that you may have never traveled before. It is about this time, in your loneliness, in your brokenness, that doubt begins to creep into your mind and a battle begins to war within your soul.

There is another funeral that takes place in the New Testament; it’s the story of Lazarus and his two sisters, Mary and Martha. This funeral takes on a completely different twist, where the dead is raised to life once again, but not until Lazarus has been in the tomb for four days. Mary and Martha have been grieving the loss of their brother, and when Jesus finally arrives on the scene, it is too late, Lazarus is dead. But Jesus says to Martha, "Your brother will rise again," to which she replies, "I know he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day." (John 11:23-24) At this point, Martha has a theology, she has a belief in Jesus, she knows who He is and she believes in the power available to Him, but she says to Him, “Lord, had You been here, my brother would not have died.” (v.21) I love it that Martha spoke the words we will only dare to utter in the privacy of our own thoughts and prayers -- where were You, Lord, when my loved one died; how could You have let this happen?  But Jesus is not offended by her words, and I can visually see Him lovingly cupping His hands under her chin and lifting her downcast eyes toward Him, drawing her in so she can fully see Him face to face, bringing her to a place of profound personal intimacy with Him, and asking her, “Do you believe this?”

Time must have stood still and it must have seemed like an eternity in that moment. Four days of grieving the loss of her beloved brother had seemed like forever, and this very personal tragedy had left her with feelings of anger, doubt, unbelief, searing pain and overwhelming sadness. Her eyes must have been puffy from weeping and her heart aching, longing to hold her brother in her arms once again; the finality of it all was more than she could bear. His question may have caught her off guard, because she would have had to look away from the tomb, away from the reality that all hope had been lost and become aware of her overwhelming personal need to gaze upon Jesus, and to really consider and ponder His question. When she finally looked up at her dearest Friend and replied, "Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, who is to come into the world," (v.27)   Instantly, in the twinkling of an eye, something changed in Martha. That tiny little ember of hope turned into a flicker, a flame, and immediately she knew, all was well within her soul because she was face to face with her Savior. It really was irrelevant that Lazarus was raised from the dead, because the miracle had already occurred, Martha came to believe right then and there that Jesus had the ability to pour new life into her and He was able to resurrect her broken spirit and bring her to a place of hope and peace through her personal and intimate belief in Him. Do you believe this can happen to you? 

The balcony

Attending a conference for moms who have suffered the loss of a child brings all kinds of emotions, regardless of how long a mom has walked her journey of grief. And I do realize our journey travels through crushing darkness and suffocating pain, but it will emerge into the light of God’s presence, hope, and enabling grace as we allow Him to walk with us and uphold us. And with His grace actively and intimately at work in our lives, both the darkness and the pain soften, and we begin to find what God has for us as our loss is woven into the very fabric of our lives. But, bring all of those moms together, or at least enough to fill 40 rooms in a hotel, plus a bunch commuting from the local area, and the freshness of grief or the memories of loss will re-surface emotions as they come together to find what God is offering through Himself and through other moms. My friend and I attended together, sharing a double room for the long weekend. Our room opened up to a private balcony, ended by thick concrete walls, and at the front, a railing that framed the usually tranquil scene of the desert mountains. Spring though was changing into summer, and the wind advisory wasn’t unexpected. Comfortably seated on the balcony, we watched the usually tranquil scene being jumbled by the wind. Our room was on the third floor and the palm trees that circled the fountains below stood taller than our third floor, but tonight, they were bending and swaying with the winds of thirty to forty miles an hour. The sprays from the pool below followed the direction of the wind, dancing in their wetness, captivating our thoughts as we watched. By desert standards, it was a relatively mild wind storm, but still neither of us had any desire to go for a walk that evening. We were “comfortably seated,” secure and safe, tucked away from the wind, watching with fascination, and yet strangely, feeling very peaceful. As we watched, we contemplated. Didn’t each mom at our conference represent a storm of loss and pain? Aren’t there still other storms we would prefer not to walk through, and yet sometimes we can find ourselves being bent and swayed, tossed and jumbled by the things that can happen in our lives? Whatever the storm, whatever the intensity of the storm, whatever the reason for the storm, it is still unsettling and it still totally distorts the tranquil scene of life we would much rather enjoy. And in the storm, we long for a safe place, a secure place, a quiet place, a place of peace and comfort. And God provides. The “balcony” is there. Securely framed within the concrete strength of His love and His grace. And my God is there, offering me a place to sit in the peace of His presence. Tucked away from the wind. Safe, even when the storm blows. Matt Redman said it well, Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, Your perfect love is casting out fear. And even when I'm caught in the middle of the storms of this life, I won't turn back; I know you are near. ...... For my God is with me. And if my God is with me ..... through the calm and through the storm .... Oh no, [He] never lets go, in every high and every low. ...... Lord, You never let go of me. Stay on the balcony. God provides. – Bev (Related Bible reading: Psalm 23:1-6)

Forgiveness

Ephesians 5:1-2 “Therefore, be imitators of God, as dearly loved children and walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave Himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.” I sat on my bed and I was finishing the homework for my weekly Bible study on discipleship. The Scripture in Matthew 5:44 said that we are to “love our enemies” and the question was posed, “Who is your enemy?” I honestly could not think of one person. But then, the next question was this, “Who has hurt you?” Okay, well, that’s a different story. I was able to jot down quite a few names, and the first person on the list was the dental surgeon who performed my son’s surgery, the surgery which ultimately ended his life. In the next step of our homework, we were instructed to spend some time in prayer, praying for and interceding for the names of the people we had listed, those who had hurt us. This was easy for me to do, since the Lord had been putting this particular person on my heart and in my prayers for the last 10 months. As I was driving to work I listened to a sermon by John MacArthur entitled “Forgiveness in the Day of Rage.” As he was speaking, he said these words, “Unforgiveness imprisons people in their past. As long as you refuse to forgive offenses and the offenders, you are shackled to their offence. As long as you refuse to forgive, you keep the pain alive, in fact, you pour gas on the wound.” I knew it was no mistake that the Lord was speaking to my heart right there and then. He had gently been calling me to forgive this doctor who I have held personally responsible for the death of my child. Ephesians 4:31-32 says, “Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ, God forgave you.” There is no greater calling for a believer than to imitate our Lord. We are called to be living testimonies, sanctified and set apart from the rest of the world, and to live our lives as an act of worship to our God. The reason for our existence here on the earth is to bring glory to our Creator and to become more and more like our heavenly Father so that others who may never darken the doorstep of a church, or who may never crack open the Living Word of God, would be able to see Him in our countenance and in our character. The very purpose of the sanctification process is to grow more and more into the likeness of the Lord while serving Him here on this earth. A believer’s life is designed to reproduce godliness as modeled by our Savior, Jesus Christ, in whose image we have been recreated through our new birth. However, there are certain stumbling blocks that will hinder our ability to live out a life that is fully glorifying to our Father, and those stumbling blocks are sin. It was no mistake that the Scriptures I was looking at in the morning were all tied together with the sermon I was listening to on my way to work. The Holy Spirit was speaking to my heart and telling me that I must get rid of my bitterness and my anger toward this person who had hurt me and who I felt robbed me of my child. I knew I must remove all of the hate that had turned into bitterness, all of the anger that I have harbored in my heart toward this doctor these past years. When that “putting off” is accomplished, then I must “put on” forgiveness, compassion and kindness, I must clothe myself in His divine nature, His holy character, His abundant love, His everlasting peace, and then, and only then, will I able to walk in the freedom of being an imitator of God, a living sacrifice and a fragrant aroma to our Lord. And that is exactly what I did. After years of harboring unforgiveness in my heart, I finally sat down and penned a letter to the dental surgeon. When I dropped it in the mail, I knew my Lord was so incredibly pleased and it felt good, really good, to finally close this chapter of my grief journey by letting him go. – Melody