Thursday, September 9, 2010

Running on Faith

I wish this was a lighthearted post about an Eric Clapton song, but it isn't.  My faith has been the only thing keeping me going.  And I'm clinging to that faith, clinging desperately so that I don't just let go.  I can't let go.  I won't let go because I have a husband and a son who need me.  It is my duty to put one foot in front of the other and let life go on, no matter how badly I want to sit and wallow in my grief.

I became a Christian in 1999 and shortly after my conversion, I chose Proverbs 3:5 as my life verse: 

Trust in the LORD with all your heart
and lean not on your own understanding;

It has been impossibly difficult to trust in the Lord lately.  I don't question my faith or my God, but at times it has been really tough to trust.  Those very close to me know all the turmoil that 2010 has rained down upon my entire family.  I thought 2006 was a rough year, but 2010 has been devastating.  However, this year has also brought two miracles for a loved one and I praise God for that.

Christians are told to give thanks for everything.  This was wonderfully illustrated in the book The Hiding Place by Corrie ten Boom.  If you've never read it, I highly recommend it.  I know it sounds ridiculous to a non-believer, but that's what's written in the good book.

I don't know why my brother is gone.  I can't make any sense of the situation.  My faith tells me that it's not my place to make sense.  Christians might not grieve the same as non-Christians (a belief in Heaven is a great comfort), but Christians do grieve.  Even Jesus wept.

Today I weep.  Someday, somehow, I will find a way to give thanks.

* * *

A friend dropped off a very kind note at my doorstep sometime last night or this morning.  She shared something that gave her comfort when her grandmother passed.  It touched me and I'd like to share it with all of you.  I feel it's particularly fitting as my brother was a Navy man and he put in 20 years of service to this country.

The Little Ship

I stood watching as the little ship sailed out to sea.

The setting sun tinted his white sails with a golden light and, as he disappeared from sight, a voice at my side whispered, "He is gone."

But the sea was a narrow one.  On the farther shore, a little band of friends had gathered to watch and wait in happy expectation.

Suddenly they caught sight of the tiny sail and, at the very moment when my companion had whispered, "He is gone," a shout went up in joyous welcome, "Here he comes!"

I don't doubt that my brother was welcomed by all of our grandparents, including the grandfather whose name he bore.  A name that my own son shares.  I'm thankful that he had a personal welcoming committee to Heaven.  And I'm thankful that one day, one day far in the future, I will see my brother again.  And he will welcome me to Heaven.

No comments:

Post a Comment