My Worship Revolution

Today we lost my mom to a 9 month or so battle with cancer.
4 months shy of her 60th birthday.
There’s no easy way to lead into that, so there it is.
Walking through that (along with stupid distractions like Facebook games and Catan online) has contributed in part to my spotty – at best – blogging lately.

She took a serious turn for the worse over the past several days.  I was supposed to fly out Tuesday, but changed my flight to today being unsure she would make it til Tuesday.  This morning my sister called me at 4:30 a.m. to let me know that she was gone.

Many of you have been at least somewhat aware of what was going on and have been praying for and supporting my family continually.  Thank you so much.  And for those who didn’t know, no worries, we still need much prayer as we process it all and deal with all the details that come with the death of a parent, sibling, grandparent.  Perhaps I’ll share more from the journey over the past year now on the blog. Perhaps I won’t.  We’ll just see.

So many thought and feelings are running through my heart and mind right now that I can hardly begin to process them all.
We’ve known for a while now that this day was coming.  I lost my father at 16 and thought I’d have some idea what to expect and how to prepare.  But this has proved to be, by far, the most difficult event – or really…process – I’ve ever experienced.

My mother will be deeply missed.
She already is.

I’m sitting right now in the Salt Lake City airport waiting for my flight to San Diego.
As I was sitting on the plane, I asked myself what the date was, knowing that it will more than likely be forever burned into my memory.
8/28.
It took mere seconds for Romans 8:28 to wash over my dome as I recited the number to myself silently.

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.

There is little that seems good about a time like now.  But what a great reminder that while it may not feel good, and while I definitely don’t understand the master plan, God has one.  My prayer is that one of the good things that can come is that God would be glorified as we, her family, embrace our own brokenness and rest in a peace that has to be beyond ourselves.  I am reminded of a popular quote from John Piper that has deeply impacted me for years, “God is most glorified in me when I am most satisfied in him…especially in the midst of pain and suffering.” (Perhaps a loose quote.)

As I was on the first leg of flying, I was reading through a great little book by Henri Nouwen, The Life Of The Beloved.
In considering God using this painful time in my own life and in the lives of others, this paragraph from his chapter on brokenness seems insightful…

“The deep truth is that our human suffering need not be an obstacle to the joy and peace we so desire, but can become, instead, the means to it.  The great secret of the spiritual life, the life of the Beloved Sons and Daughters of God, is that everything we live, be it gladness or sadness, joy or pain, health or illness, can all be a part of the journey toward the full realization of our humanity.  It is not hard to say to one another: ‘All that is good and beautiful leads us to the glory of the children of God.’  But it is very hard to say: ‘But didn’t you know that we all have to suffer and thus enter into our glory?’  Nonetheless, real care means the willingness to help each other in making our brokenness into the gateway to joy.”

The reality is that right now, it mostly just hurts.  But through your prayers, support, and friendships, one day it can be redemptive in pointing to God and  bringing strength and joy to all of us who loved and miss her.
In the meantime, we’ll cope by taking this week to remember her life and to celebrate the gift that God gave us, in the midst of our grief.
I love you mom.
You’re missed already.