the time is short.

Have you ever lived under unbearable circumstances and nearly lost all hope for change? Have you ever longed for something so badly that you couldn't hardly think about anything else? Have you ever found yourself thinking that, despite all your efforts, "this relationship will never, never, never be repaired?" Have you ever sat in your car, rallying every ounce of fortitude and courage you could muster, just so you could open the door and face whatever the next few hours would bring? Have you ever despaired that you could possibly survive the next years, months, weeks, days… minutes?

Yes. I have too.

Through trial and error, and through erring in trials, I have learned this lesson a hundred times over: the pain is only as bad as my perspective is wrong.


Perspective.

Perspective creates space for the truth to be seen.
Perspective teaches proportion.
Perspective gives us a hint of the greater reality: how very little we really know.
Perspective gives us hope that things can be different.
Perspective helps us to bear the unbearable, to love the unloveable, to forgive the unpardonable.


When we lack perspective, our troubles loom large in our field of vision, and we can see and think on nothing else. Our troubles then become our primary basis for our emotions, our decisions, our reactions, even our identities.

Perspective comes when, standing next to our troubles, we have a true vision of God: the Sovereign Creator, the Ever-Gracious Father, the Sacrificial Lamb, the only true Healer, Comforter, and Teacher. Compared to what God is doing eternally, is there any burden we cannot bear for a short while? Compared to the eternal wisdom and might of God, is there any circumstance that could befall us that He cannot redeem? Compared to His long-suffering suffering, is there any pain or longing we endure that outdoes His patience and endurance?

In the hands of our sovereign God, nothing is wasted. The time is short, beloved. He will not delay His mercies. Only remember, your vision is broken, occluded by your woes; for Him a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years is like a day. In a single moment, He may swiftly bring to you a thousand years' worth of blessings and comforts and joys and wisdom. Over a thousand years, He may steadfastly bring to you one monumental day's worth of blessings and comforts and joys and wisdom. Either way, He would not be wrong. Either way, He would be good.





I have seen the business that God has given to the children of man to be busy with. He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also, he has put eternity into man’s heart, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end. ...I perceived that whatever God does endures forever; nothing can be added to it, nor anything taken from it. God has done it, so that people fear before him. That which is, already has been; that which is to be, already has been; and God seeks what has been driven away.

Ecclesiastes 3

This is what I mean, brothers: the appointed time has grown very short. From now on, let those who have wives live as though they had none, and those who mourn as though they were not mourning, and those who rejoice as though they were not rejoicing, and those who buy as though they had no goods, and those who deal with the world as though they had no dealings with it. For the present form of this world is passing away. 
1 Corinthians 7

life and death

"For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For in this tent we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling, if indeed by putting it on we may not be found naked. For while we are still in this tent, we groan, being burdened—not that we would be unclothed, but that we would be further clothed, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. He who has prepared us for this very thing is God, who has given us the Spirit as a guarantee. 

So we are always of good courage. We know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, for we walk by faith, not by sight. Yes, we are of good courage, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord."
2 Corinthians 5:1-8

five short years ago my then-24-year-old cousin Jason was diagnosed with uncurable brain cancer. we prayed for a miracle. we prayed for God's will. we prayed for peace and understanding. we prayed for life.

Jason married Heather a few years ago. we celebrated in the new mexico sunshine without a care in our hearts. we all know that our days are numbered, yet none of us know the number. we prayed for many days together for Jason and Heather.

a few months ago, after many promising treatments, the cancer began again to grow. spread. suddenly it was in Jason's brain stem.

and now we are down to the days. the numbered days. the count-on-one-hand the days we have. this pain is unspeakable. when i think about Heather, and my aunt and uncle and other cousins sitting with him now, reading to him, singing songs of worship, praying, and crying, my own grief for their pain is overwhelming and immeasurable.

--
on april 24, 1985, my mother gave birth to a perfectly healthy, albeit a little loud, baby girl named rachel lynn. someone picked up the phone to call california. my aunt Sharon, who several weeks earlier had given birth to Andrew, answered the phone in a panic and said, "Andrew's not breathing. we're going to the hospital. i'll call you later."

my aunt sharon never forgets my birthday, because it was the day she nearly lost her youngest son. and though Andrew's had his share of medical fun, he not only survived that frightening moment, he thrived. and he now sits at his brother's side as Jason slowly expires from this world.


how can i celebrate my 28 years of life when Jason is losing his? do you know, today my aunt emailed me to wish me a happy birthday. today, while her eldest son is spending his last moments in her arms, she came to share her love with me. how? how is that possible?

we have an unshakeable hope. yes. we a Savior who has gone before us, who has made a home and a body for us in eternity. and for those of us left behind, while Jason sheds his failing body of death, we soldier on, marching down our numbered days until we join him. what great joy and what great sorrow are held in this moment. death and life are held in the same hands.

Jason. Go under the grace. Go see our Savior's face. The angels point your way.

how long, how long, how long?

i distinctly remember reading psalm 13 in high school. i remember it so distinctly because it totally confused me.

how long, O Lord? will You forget me forever?
how long will You hide your face from me? 


how long shall i take counsel in my soul,
having sorrow in my heart all the day? 
how long will my enemy be exalted over me? 


consider and answer me, O Lord my God;
enlighten my eyes, or i will sleep the sleep of death,
and my enemy will say, 'i have overcome him,'
and my adversaries will rejoice when i am shaken. 


when i was younger, no only did it seem totally uncouth and arrogant to ask such questions of God, as if this were a cross-examination to uncover His of malevolent intentions, but on a fundamental level, the inquiries seemed irrelevant for someone whose hope is in the Lord.

i mean, really!? "how long will you forget me?" come on. hey psalmist, don't you know that even if a mother could forget her own child, even then the Lord could not forget his own? our names are written on the palm of His hand? He has seen every day of our lives and can number the hairs on our head? PSH! like HE could ever forget us? why would you ask such a silly question?

and, come on, dude. get your face out of the mud! sorrow in your heart all day long? and seriously, you're ready to die because you're convinced the Lord doesn't see you? can somebody please say it--you're delusional.

or maybe you're just incredibly impatient. don't you know the Lord commands the stars to rise and the sun to set, and He is master over time and space because He created it? i mean, can't you give Him a LITTLE credit that He knows what He is doing inside of time? wait on His timing, it's obviously right. quit your little pity-party and buck up. geez.


that was the mindset of my 16-year-old self. maybe it was because i only asked such questions when i was being selfish and whiney. maybe it was because i was afraid of asking the Lord to faithfully display His own nature to me more fully. maybe it was because i had already been waiting on the Lord for three whole years (since i became a believer), and, you know, waiting wasn't turning out to be all that hard.



until it was. ten years later.




and the dull ache of loneliness starts to settle into my bones.
and the long hours, days, weeks... years of silence from the Lord starts to deafen my ears to the truth.
and the painful struggle against the temptation of habitual sin starts to seem unconquerable.
and the growing emptiness of unrealized hopes and dreams starts to numb me of all desire.
and the futility of every effort taken to repair broken relationships starts to build up walls of bitterness.
the the endless string of morning upon morning, evening upon evening, where all i can say is, "Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner in constant need of grace."

it's wearying.


and now i understand the psalmist, who undoubtedly waited so much longer than 10 years for the Lord to return, repair, restore, resurrect. i understand the plea: how long, o Lord? how long? how long? i'm not looking for an estimated wait time or a countdown calendar. i'm asking for your PRESENCE. be here, with me, now, and fix this. only You can. show up. do it. i'm DONE. i'm so stinkin' done with all this crap.  get here, now. where are you? i know, i know, you're "everywhere." but i mean, where are your purposes and where is your truth and goodness in the middle of all this waiting? i don't get it, Lord, and i'm starting to lose sight of the horizon.



but i have trusted in Your lovingkindness.
my heart shall rejoice in Your salvation. 
i will sing to the Lord, 
because He has dealt bountifully with me. 




there it is. the rooting of our souls. the foundation of our faith. the watch by which we measure all waiting. His nature. His love. His plan for salvation. He has proven Himself in the past; if only we would be reminded more frequently.


and i am not asking to accuse or to whine or to convince Him to change the plan. no, i ask because i need Him to know that i need Him today. i ask because i am so very weary and He is so very good. the only good; the best good. i ask because i need to know that this is not the final chapter, that one day He will be the dawn and the darkness will forever die. i ask because i have not forsaken the hope that He provides. i ask so that i can keep looking forward. i ask so that i can live. i ask because if i don't ask, i may die.


how long? how long? how long until this burden is lifted?
how long? how long is this the song that we sing?
how long until the reckoning?
--andrew peterson--

i'll have no other.

at the end of an empty bottle--
at the end of that ill-fitting relationship--
at the end of an entire tank of gas taken one-way west--
at the end of the roller coaster--
at the end of that first kiss--
at the end of the bowl of ice cream--
at the end of an argument you 'won'--
at the end of your maxed out credit card--
at the end of a Jane Austen--
at the end of a great job offer--


there is thing we like to call "real life." ha. whatever that is.



this is our real life:

we pay high prices to assuage the aching emptiness. we sell our resources, our relationships, our dignity, our time... just for a moment's peace. just for an escape to some sense of perfection, one that's gone in a blink.


andrew osenga sings it this way: "almost every girl i've ever kissed is married//it's not a lot of weddings, but it's sure a crazy thought//now they all seem like someone else's story//i wonder what we paid for what we got."

i wonder what we paid for what we got. 



when will we see? the price is too high and the prize is not worth it! how long until we cry 'uncle,' until we say, 'Enough!'



the things that are real will endure. only the unshakable will remain. and i examine what i've bought with my resources and relationships and dignity and time, and i realize: i'm not gonna have much when it all shakes out. not much at all.







Oh, that You would cure my heart of its bent to passing pleasures. Oh, that You would stay my heart from straying to a quick fix. Oh, that You would be my vision, and that, beholding You, all else would fade away. there is only One true. there is only One good. be all mine; i am wholly Yours, and i'll have no other. 

be still

we sang this hymn last sunday, and being a classical musician with more than a few sibelius pieces under my belt, i've always loved it for the melody alone. but over the past week, the words have resonated in my life and in the lives of many, many friends and family around me.

here is the crux: my faith, and the joy therein, rests not on good or bad fortune, not on circumstance, not on the persuasiveness of clever arguments, not on the merit of my own actions, not on the conviction of my own mind or the force of my own will. no: my faith, and the joy therein, is founded completely in the work of Christ laying death in its grave. death and all its cohorts have been swallowed up in victory. as i sang today with quick said the bird, "as we wait for the dawn//will you stay awake?//we'll be naked again//but we'll feel no shame//everything will be revealed//and we'll have no pain//all creation will sing//our song's refrain."

Christ is the Victor, Christ is our treasure. His kindness is greater than any good thing we could gain on earth, His love is more able to heal than any evil is able to hurt. there is nothing that could happen that would be so bad that His goodness cannot overwhelm it. there is nothing that could happen that would be so good that His goodness would not still be better than it.


in the face of the unknown future, in the face of new challenges, in the face of returning cancer, in the face of lost friends, in the face of broken marriages, in the face of suddenly expanding families, in the face of disappointment, in the face of depression, in the face of sin ... be still, my soul: this is not the end of the story.



be still, my soul: the Lord is on your side.
bear patiently the cross of grief or pain.
leave to your God to order and provide;
in every change, God faithful will remain.
be still, my soul: your best, your heavenly Friend
through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

be still, my soul: your God will undertake
to guide the future, as in ages past.
your hope, your confidence let nothing shake;
all now mysterious shall be bright at last.
be still, my soul: the waves and winds still know
the Christ who ruled them while He dwelt below.

be still, my soul: the hour is hastening on
when we shall be forever with the Lord,
when disappointment, grief, and fear are gone,
sorrow forgot, love's purest joys restored.
be still my soul: when change and tears are past,
all safe and blessed we shall meet at last.

unless the seed is sown

the flower in it never opens.

Jesus replied, "The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls to the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. He who loves his life loses it, and he who hates his life in this world will keep it to life eternal. If anyone serves Me, he must follow Me; and where I am, there my My servant will be also; if anyone serves Me, the Father will honor him."  --john 12:23-26--

vapor

yesterday, i was reminded by events in the lives around me that life is a vapor. i had forgotten, momentarily; i had been seduced by the joys and pains of these moments and had become unmindful of the joys and pains of eternity.


this morning i woke up, i made a cup of coffee, and i wrote this poem. perhaps it will become a song someday, though i am not often brimming with creative melodies. not that my lyrics are much above mediocre, either ... my aspirations exceed my abilities, i know this full well. nevertheless, i digress.



Father Time played his trick on me again.
Seemed I'd found a happy dwelling and I started digging in.
But the Earth, it quaked and rumbled, dancing 'round its daily spin--
Father Time, he stole my days from me again,
Father Time, he plays a game I'll never win.

Mother Goose told me tales to make me yearn.
I was happy 'nough before, but still she knew I had to learn
That the happy-ever-after wouldn't make it to my turn.
Mother Goose told fairy tales to make me yearn,
Mother Goose gave me alonely, not the cure.

Brotherhood dulled the sting of passing through.
My companion did the good and bad as only he could do.
Now I miss those golden moments, but it helps that he does too.
Brotherhood dulled the sting because he knew,
Brotherhood, my fellow man, he struggles too.

Sister Friend left her mark upon my soul,
Held my hand as cru-el enemies brought nights as black as coal.
Sister proved her steadfast love, she stayed as long as River rolled,
But Sister Friend, bless her soul, she didn't know
That Sister Friend, still even she would have to go.

Life is but a string of days and nights in line.
At setting sun we still believe we'll see it rising one more time,
For tomorrow isn't promised, yet I drink as if it's mine.
Then I'm gone, just like a bell that's sung its chime.
The silent shell without a song stands as a sign.

Father God has set eternity in man,
Yet He has made us out of dust, and so we cling to dropping sand.
Holy Spirit sings a song of hope: we can be born again,
For Brother Christ defeated death with willing hands.
Our Brother Christ delivered us to promised land.
Brother Christ, He gives us life that never ends.