Love Believes All Things

There is a careless streak in love. It can be careless with goods, pouring expensive perfume on a Master's feet and hair (John 12:3). A careful person would have measured it out beforehand--not too much (keeping some for oneself), not too little (ensuring that impression of generosity is given). Love is also careless with one's self. It is risky to put oneself out for another, to go out of one's way to help another person--when one is not sure of how to do it well. One may be misunderstood, deceived, hurt. We could flub our overtures of love and end up looking ridiculous. Moved by love, however, we overpower our fear and take the risk.

Love is careless, too, with trust. Love is ready to believe. Love can throw off reserve. It does not worry too much about being cheated, because it has eyes only for the other's needs. If love seems a little naive it is not for lack of experience with people, but because love does not bother to calculate the odds on people.

~~from Love Within Limits by Lewis B. Smedes

This is taken from one of my favourite books. I loved this part of the book, a chapter based on the 7th verse of 1 Corinthians 13, "...love believes all things." I have to confess that I love this excerpt more for my own sake than anything else. My heart tends to love people before my head has had a chance to calculate the odds on them. I have always been this way and I have grown to accept it and work with it, but it also means I hurt more than I otherwise might.

I wondered for a time...or maybe I wondered many times...if it wouldn't just be better to be a little more indifferent, a little more callous, a little more calculating. Give people a chance to prove themselves before I throw my heart into the ring. Try a wait-and-see approach.

It sounds like an idea with merit, but my heart will not agree to it. When you put it that way, it doesn't seem so much like love anymore, but rather more like bargaining. Like demanding a safety net before you put yourself on the line. Like writing up a pre-nuptial agreement before you'll go out and buy the ring.

It does hurt, sometimes, to love someone and have them not prove worthy of your love. Or to love someone and not be loved in return. Or to love someone and have the friendship fade for lack of time and interest. But it can be survived. More than that, it can be an experience which brings growth and wisdom and change. Love may come with a cost, but I believe it is worth the cost.

I wrote yesterday about the death of my Grandpa Bill. For all of the years that he knew me, he loved me well. It is one of the things that I will always carry in my heart...seeing what it means to love someone well. I know love, at times, came with a cost for him, but he is Home now. And he can clearly see all that his love meant to each person whose life he touched.

"Beloved, let us love one another, for love comes from God."

1 John 4:7

My Tribute to Grandpa Bill

Yesterday I learned that my Grandpa Bill has died and gone to Heaven. He was the adopted grandfather of my heart and I will miss him greatly. He lived on Orcas Island in Washington state and many are my memories of him and his beloved island. This is my tribute to him.


How do you say goodbye to someone you dearly love? Maybe by remembering the things that made that person so special…by taking those things into your heart and letting them change you.

Grandpa Bill was special for so many reasons. He loved his wife, Dorothy, faithfully and tenderly for many years. After she died, he longed to see her again in Heaven. He spoke of his favorite memories of her each time we visited…of their courtship, of her wonderful sense of humor, of her love for God. Grandpa Bill showed me what it meant to love someone daily, moment by moment, for a lifetime. He showed me what it meant to honor someone above yourself. I pray that I will love my own husband as truly as Grandpa Bill loved Grandma Dorothy.

Grandpa Bill treasured each person in his life in real and tangible ways. He remembered their birthdays. He phoned them. He drove miles across the continent to visit them. And he did all of those things for me, too. He came to my wedding and stood in as my grandfather, since my own grandfather had died some years before. He rejoiced at the news of each child born to me and my husband, and came to visit them. I was his “Canadian granddaughter” and they were his “Canadian great-grandchildren.” Our youngest child, Isaac, was born the same month that Grandpa Bill turned 90 years old.Isaac attended Grandpa Bill’s 90th birthday party as a newborn baby. Now a 2 year-old, Isaac sees Grandpa Bill’s picture on our refrigerator and talks about “Papa Dill”.

I watched the way Grandpa Bill cared for each person in his life, and I realized what a beautiful thing faithfulness is in a friendship. It can be enough to make someone feel like family. He once said to me, “Sometimes you just need to be there for someone.” Grandpa Bill was always there. He always had time. He always cared.

Grandpa Bill was very special. Thank you, Montgomerys, for sharing him with us. We love him deeply and will remember him forever.

Be Unto Your Name

We are a moment You are forever

Lord of the ages God before time

We are a vapor You are eternal

Love everlasting reigning on high

We are the broken You are the healer

Jesus Redeemer mighty to save

You are the love song we'll sing forever

Bowing before You blessing Your name

CHORUS

Holy holy Lord God Almighty

Worthy is the Lamb Who was slain

Highest praises honor and glory

Be unto Your name

Be unto Your name

~Lynn DeShazo and Gary Sadler

I have always loved this worship song. I first heard it on Robin Mark's Revival in Belfast CD. A beautiful love song for the Creator of the Universe.

It became even more precious to me when I was going through a very dark time in my life (see Inscrutable below). Our worship pastor, who was new to our church at the time, played it at a ladies' meeting. The words, "We are the broken, You are the healer," touched me in the very depths of my heart. God used it to show me that I would not always feel so broken and alone, that the darkness would sometime lift.

I love the way He uses simple, daily things to touch our hearts and change us. And I love the way He directs our thoughts toward tools which will help us in our growth. A few weeks ago I suddenly knew that I had to read The Lord of the Rings. I have never read this book before (although I read The Hobbit when I was a kid). It was just one of those God-thoughts. And this book has opened a whole new realm in my heart. I am savouring each page...and there are 1349 of them to savour!!

He is a good God, weaving the details of our lives into a beautiful whole. He is the love song we'll sing forever, bowing before Him, blessing His name.

Beautiful Hope

I have been thinking about moving next door to the Children's Hospital. My son, Raine, has broken his arm for the second time in five months. (sigh) The first time it was the left arm. This time it is the right arm. But much of the experience will remain the same--two months' worth of orthopedic appointments and x-rays, waiting rooms, cast removals, painkillers. Just thinking about it makes me weary in my bones.

And there is weariness in my heart, too. This is such an emotionally demanding process. Raine is my super-intense, super-persistent second-born. He requires every ounce of energy, creativity, and patience that I have to give. And more, actually. A broken arm means that many of the outlets he uses to expend his energy are now unavailable. I am sometimes hard-pressed to find enough activities to take their place.

That is the bad news. But I am finding much to be thankful for, too. Terrific doctors, to start. Raine seems to come up with some "interesting" breaks, and the orthopedic specialists at the hospital have been doing a great job at making him as good as new. I am thankful for good health care for my son.

I'm also thankful for the many small mercies that accompanied this second arm-break. My husband was in town, so he was able to meet me at the hospital right away. There was no one else in the waiting room (!!). I knew where to go and how to get there this time. I was able to stay with Raine throughout the whole procedure, instead of having to take my other kids out of the room. Most of all, they put Raine under when it came time to set the bones.

You see, the first time he broke his arm, he was conscious for the whole bone-setting procedure. They gave him morphine as a painkiller, but he was still in so much agony that he screamed and thrashed and begged them to "stop bending it". And it took two tries to get the bone set properly. It was so traumatic for both of us, I could hardly sleep that night.

With this second break, when it came time to head to the procedure room, Raine looked at me with naked fear in his eyes and said, "I don't want to go in there. This is the terrible part, Mommy."

I stroked his hair and told him that this time they were going to give him some medicine that would make him sleep, so that he wouldn't feel them fixing his arm.

Remembering a previous conversation about what happens to cats in animal shelters, Raine looked at me with wide blue eyes and asked with a tremble in his voice, "Mom, if they give me sleep medicine, will I ever wake up again?"

My heart ached to see his fear and vulnerability. I assured him that this was different, that he would wake up when it was finished to find me still beside him, stroking his hair.

And that was how it happened. He slept through the most traumatic and painful part of the whole process, and woke later to find me at his bedside, stroking his hair.

It made me wonder what it might be like someday to fall asleep, for the last and final time. To wake and find myself in the arms of Jesus. All of the pain and trauma of life on earth behind me. Only His eyes holding me in their gaze. I think it will be worth every day I have ever lived, every heartache I have ever known. It is the most beautiful hope I know.

Most days are not traumatic, but there are many weary ones. Many more than I would wish. Many more than I imagined there would be when I was young and idealistic. How I long for Home, for the place where my heart was created to be. For the place where I will be made whole.

He gathers the lambs in his arms

and carries them close to his heart.

Isaiah 40:11

Inscrutable

Getting out of the boat.
That was the theme for the ladies' retreat that year. "Are you going to go?" my friend, Cindy, asked, anticipation in her voice.
"No, I don't think so..."
"Why not?" she pursued.
"Because I did try to get out of the boat...," my voice trailed off.
"...and you almost drowned," she finished for me.

Yes, I almost drowned. My husband and I had spent the last five years following what we believed to be God's call on our lives--missionary service overseas. It had involved the deepest surrender I had ever known as I relinquished one thing after another in my life.
My children...their health and their future.
My parents.
My home.
My language.
My culture.
My lifestyle.
My friends.
My church.
It seemed that no part of my life would be left untouched by this decision.

We had completed many parts of the lengthy process--cross-cultural training, psychological testing, and some fundraising--when I began to fall apart, little by little. Looking back, there were so many things contributing to my downward spiral, that it seems inevitable now. Our ties with our friends were loosening; we had been keeping up a demanding fundraising schedule; a friend was caught in an unrelenting crisis; our families were struggling with our decision to pack our kids off to a "closed country"; I was aching with the reality of a lifetime of goodbyes...and there was still no end in sight to our fundraising.

I fell hard and fast. I felt as though God--by His own hand--had led me to a cold, dark place and then abandoned me there. I prayed, but He seemed silent. I begged Him to help me, but the despair persisted. I felt myself start to question everything I had known and believed about Him. He had always been there before. Where was He now? And why this, when I had only been trying to follow and obey His voice?

My pastor, seeing the depth of my pain, said, "I can see you are going through deep waters. I wish I could help you, but I don't know how."

Deep waters, yes. I succumbed to the raging storm in my heart. I felt shaken to the very core of my being. I did not know if I would ever be the same again.

A year later another friend went through a similar situation...also trying to follow God's leading into cross-cultural service. As we talked and cried, she gave voice to the questions that had been haunting me for months:
Did we really hear God's call to go...or was it just our imaginations?
Did He change His mind?
Did He mean for us to go, and now we have failed to follow?
Or was it just a test, to see if we would be willing?

She concluded in frustration, "There is no good answer. Every possibility leaves me empty and in pain. I have no way to answer this."

There is no good answer. Her words echoed in my heart for months. There is no good answer. No way to understand God's apparent silence. No way to explain why everything fell apart, when we only meant to follow and obey.

It was an experience that left me utterly shattered. Did God still love me? Would I ever be able to trust Him with my heart again?

Some words from Chuck Swindoll left me with a strange and hollow comfort: God is inscrutable. He cannot be explained.

It wasn't enough. But it was something. I let go of the questions. I gave my heart time to rest and heal.

In time, God came to me in my cold, dark place and lifted me out. In unexpected and beautiful ways He showed me that He still loved me...and He gave me the courage to love Him again. I still do not have any answers. But I know that He loves me. And I know that I love Him.

Wednesday afternoon. Another friend, beautiful and dignified, is struggling to understand God's leading. In trying to follow Him, she and her husband have found themselves in a seemingly precarious and difficult situation. She is uncertain and confused. I don't have any answers for her, but I tell her what I do know: I know that He loves me. And I know that I love Him.

I pray that this will somehow be enough for her, too.

Then the Lord answered Job out of the storm.

He said:

"Who is this that darkens my counsel with words without knowledge?

Brace yourself like a man;

I will question you, and you shall answer me.

"Where were you when I laid the earth's foundation?

Tell me, if you understand.

Who marked off its dimensions?

Surely you know!

Who stretched a measuring line across it?

On what were its footings set,

or who laid its cornerstone--

while the morning stars sang together

and all the angels shouted for joy?"

Job 38: 1-7

Most Improved

My daughter, Sylvie, is a dancer. She has been learning ballet and on Sunday we attended her year-end recital. Honestly, I was afraid it was going to be boring. It wasn't. It was beautiful.

She has only been dancing for a year, so I haven't seen much of the studio outside of her Ballet 1 class. But the dancers coming out of this studio in our little town are really good, and the instructor is nothing short of amazing. Her choreography is beautiful, imaginative, creative, and inspiring. I loved every moment of the two and a half hour recital.

The best part of all came at the end. My little girl was awarded the Most Improved award. Her instructor said that it went to the dancer who learned her skills thoroughly, carried them over into the next class, and practiced on her own every day just for the love of dancing. It touched me so deeply. Her instructor sees such promise in her! It was a magical moment...and the magic hasn't faded yet.

I always wanted to be a dancer. I wasn't allowed to take dance lessons, so it didn't happen for me, but my spirit soars when I watch a good dancer perform her art. I tell myself that one day I will dance in Heaven, for love of the One who put this desire in my heart.

In the meantime I am going to follow my daughter's example. I am going to try and learn on earth the skills God is teaching me...how to love people, how to love Him. I am going to try and carry those through into each day I am given here. I am going to try and practice them just because I love the One who has given me life. And when I stand before Him one day perhaps He will give me the Most Improved award.

Friends

I have a friend who is publishing her first book. A dream come true for her, and yet she has mixed feelings. She is a deeply private person and she feels as though she is putting the innermost thoughts of her heart in a public place.



That is a little how I feel about blogging. So I have resisted it for a while. But I have another friend--a little younger than me and a lot hipper than I am--who told me about Facebook...and that led to Blogspot.

So here I am on a new adventure...thanks to the Anne of Jules. Maybe I will meet some new friends along the way.

Hold a true friend with both hands. Nigerian proverb