Tuesday, February 12, 2013

The Hardest Thing

Last week my friend's 2 year old daughter passed away in her sleep. 

This is Adora.

What follows is memory after memory engraved on my heart like a slideshow.  Cries of grief at the hospital.  Grief so deep I never want to hear it again.  Prayer.  And prayer.  And more prayer with friends and family and Jesus family. 

I've been unable to talk about how I feel about Adora's passing over.  Mostly because I don't know what I feel.  2 year olds shouldn't die.  There should be no pink caskets.  I think part of my heart has just been in rebellion.  I hate this.  For the grief of my dear friends.  For the grief of their friends and family. 

Even more I think that the outrage is right.  If this world wasn't broken 2 year olds wouldn't die.  Her dad Jared said it in the ceremony at the memorial service.  It isn't fair.  It's not.  That part of our hearts that remembers the world before it was broken, that is made in the image of God is outraged.  Grief and tragedy come to everyone in this world though.  And as much as I have asked God why over the last week and a half, God has asked me why not?  Why not Jared and Melissa and Adora? 

Melissa and Jared are just ordinary normal people.  They aren't super special. (Sorry friends)  But to see the faith that has sustained them through this has been extraordinary.  It's still hard for me to put into words the movement of the Spirit in my heart as I heard Melissa talk about the graciousness of God in this toward her.  How she would choose this again if this is God's best for them and for Adora.  While still feeling the incredible grief of loss.   Jared said at the service that as much as his heart hurts so much that he wants to rip it out of his chest he can't blame God.  Adora wasn't his.  Adora was God's. He said he was glad to have had her for 2 years when it could have been 2 days, or a month, or 6 months. 

As they chose Christ, and continue to choose Him in this, the thing that I am keeping.  In all of it.  The sorrow.  The helplessness.  The grieving.  Is the beauty and the hope of our salvation.  Not because we are special, but because God takes ordinary people and makes us extraordinary.  I have seen the power of Christ this last week.  Not in the raising of the dead, but in the life of people who without Him would be dead in grief right now. 

Woody said this week that when the gospel hits you, it should be like a semi truck hitting you.  You don't walk away the same.  Forever changed.  

I would change that a little bit, and say that when the semis in life hit you.  The griefs.  The failures.  The tragedies.  The mistakes.  That in it all if you are a member of Jesus family He changes the impact of the semi trucks.   

It also adds meaning to the words of worship when we sing I Surrender All.  Jesus is so much more than a lifestyle choice.

I want to keep it all in my heart for a long time and meditate on it all.  More than that I want to go deeper in to Jesus.  Further up and farther in.  What an amazing hope and a beautiful Savior. 

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