Christian Potpourri

I am surrounded by grief. A friend has just lost her husband to cancer. A cousin has lost her mother. Another friend will soon lose her grandmother. Grief.

A former boss’s father has Parkinson’s. A relative is suffering from advanced ALS. An aunt is falling more and more into Alzheimer’s. Grief.

Grief grabs us with great big hooks and swings us around in a cycle of sadness. To be a Christian does not mean there is no grief. The sorrow over an impending loss, and the loss itself, can be all consuming even to those of us who know that this is not the end. Christians know death is the REAL beginning for those who have placed their trust in Christ. But sorrow still has it’s edge, the serrated edge of a knife that cuts so deeply. Someone is gone; there is an absence. And we are forced to continue without them.

Christ knew what it was like to have a dear one pass. He stood and wept at the tomb of Lazarus. Grief. Christ understood it, and understands it now. And He is there with us as we go through it.

For there is a time for grieving, a time for sorrow, and this is that time for some people I know and love.  It is with great empathy and sympathy that I wrote this poem. I dedicate it to all who are feeling the pain of loss.

It’s not an easy poem. It’s a poem about grief.

Grief
By Mary Hughes

Scorched by fire,
Blistered by heat,
I feel grief’s coals
Beneath my feet.

I breathe grief out;
I breathe grief in.
And watch the ashes
In the wind.

Here in the Hughes’ household we have had an absurd moment. And in this moment of the absurd, we see the hand of God.

From a young age, our daughter, Julie, mumbled. We would have moments of high stress when we had to ask her to repeat herself not once, but twice in order to understand what she was saying. With eyeballs rolling she would sigh that ‘how can you not understand’ sigh. No amount of cajoling worked. My husband and I felt like ‘Pete” and “Repeat”.

At the age of 20 our little mumbler went to college. It was in this freshman year she had her first heartbreak in the form of a broken relationship. Feeling hopeless and not able to cope, she moved back home. She found jobs here and there, but nothing that she saw as a future for herself. I must tell you she was pretty despondent and her Dad and I were very concerned. Then one night she went with her Dad on his overnight shift as videographer for a local station in St. Louis and she had a blast. Overnight she found a new sense of purpose, a future. That future came in the form of The Broadcast Center, a school for media and radio. And we enrolled her, not knowing what field she would choose, or where she would excel. We weren’t sure of anything really; we were just happy to see her involved and interested in something. But before long it became clear: she loved what she was doing! The only thing that concerned us was: it was radio. She wanted to be on the radio.

Her interest progressed as did her education. When she came home with a professionally done radio demo we held our breath in the form of a prayer.

When we listened we were floored. We could understand every word!!!! It was a moment of pure…..incredulity! And we thought, “This was worth it just to be able to understand her!”

Then one day Julie called and left a message on our answering machine. Her Dad and I played it and re-played it, trying to understand what she said. We saved the message. We saved it for Julie.

She came over, listened. She shook her head and said, “I have no idea what I’m saying.” Ah, the absurd!

Since that time Julie has been in radio, from Cape Girardeau to a part-time job in St. Louis doing traffic.Amidst the ups and downs of the economy, and the ensuing havoc it wreaked, she has hung in there. She found full time jobs here and there, but could never quite let go of her part-time job in radio. We encouraged her to stay. We just had a crazy feeing she was supposed to be in radio.

Recently we were at a crisis point. There was a full time position available where she was working, but there was a big hitch. Two people with loads of experience in the St. Louis had applied. One had fifteen years of experience. The tension was incredible. Julie would call us, asking for prayer. So we did, and we asked others to pray, too. Julie would call and ask me, “Mom, do you think I’ll get this job?” I honestly had no clue and it was painful for me to tell her that. One thing I did know was if she didn’t get the job it would probably be the end of her radio career. She simply would have to move on, find a full time job somewhere.

After weeks of a gut-wrenching wait, Julie called. I had no problem understanding her.

“Mom……….I GOT THE JOB!”

It was huge! It was momentous! It was validation. It was affirmation of all that had happened before, the awful break-up, the quitting school and moving back home.

“Mom, please tell everyone who prayed for me I said thank you!” Her voice broke.

“And, Mom. You know what? I wish God was right here beside me so I could give Him a hug.”

You can imagine how I felt hearing that. And as a dear friend said when I told her this, “She did give Him a hug. She gave God the credit and the glory!”

She’s right.

It’s been a five year journey. Julie just turned twenty five this December. It’s been rough at times for her and for us. At times we probably lost confidence. But God is good and He knew all the time.

There will be rough patches ahead. The newness and excitement will give way to reality. Work is always going to be hard no matter what you do. You go through valleys and back up to the mountaintop. And back down again.

We thank Him. Oh, we are still in praise mode big time!

We are glorying in the absurd.

I know I hurt him. I sat, full force, upon his little cat body. He ran as soon he could to the nearest hiding place.
I walked through the house calling to him, “Winston…Winston!”
He wouldn’t come to me and I wondered if he would ever forgive me.
I found him hiding under a bed. I took him his favorite cat treats to cajole him so he would let me pet him, but he wouldn’t. I felt awful that I had hurt him and I wasn’t able to communicate that to him.
Then, it wasn’t even fifteen minutes later and he came to me as if nothing had happened at all. His little cat brain had either forgotten it, or he had decided to forgive me. I kept looking at him expecting him to hiss at me or run the first time I extended my hand to pet him. He didn’t. It was if it had never happened. I believe Winston chose to forgive me.
And I pondered, “What must it be like to be able to forgive so easily?” “Would it be the same if I sat on him on a daily basis?” There is a sliding scale to injustice and how we forgive according to our scale. I’m not sure of Winston’s sliding scale, and I’m not going to sit on Winston every day to find out.
But I will think a bit about forgiveness and how the Lord wants me to do it and do it right, so that when someone sits on my pride, my ego, my ‘right’ to something, I can forgive. I will give up my right to hiss and run.
Excuse me while I find Winston and love on him a little. I find I appreciate him even more now that I am forgiven.