Author: Julie

Today I was thinking about the pendulum of emotions my family has been on this past week. We started the week off with the biggest and best of hellos as my new niece came in to the world Sunday evening. Evangline Hope came in her own way, on her own time and is a perfect 6 1/2 pound addition to our family. It was fascinating to watch each of my kids with her. The last baby they held in a hospital was Macy. My kids are baby lovers but there was a certain level of triumph that came with Eva. I think maybe their faith in new life was slightly restored. It was a picture of mercy to see them as proud cousins, doting on their living, breathing baby Eva.

Of course, if we’re on a pendulum that means there is ultimately a giant swing in the opposite direction. That swing came last night as we gathered to tell our sweet friend, Maja, ‘see ya later.’ Maja is my sister’s foreign exchange student who quickly became just another member of the family. Her kind heart, sarcasm, and ability to go toe for toe with my dad’s teasing earned her the honorary title of ‘Mahaffa family member.’ She joined our family a mere 10 months ago and we instantly loved her and began dreading the day that she would fly back home to Switzerland. Today was that day and last night was a night of goodbyes. These sorts of things have become increasingly more difficult for my kids. They understand the sadness that comes with distance between loved ones a little more clearly than most kids their ages….maybe even some adults. Even though we have every intention of visiting Maja and of her returning to visit us, their hearts know that ‘goodbyes’ or ‘see ya laters’ hurt. Every time Andy’s parents or Aunt Kimmie leave our house, we can count on a few shed tears.

In the months following Macy’s death, many people would ask how we were doing. It was very rare that anyone would ask specifically about the kids. That always broke my heart a little for them. I know that mostly no one knows what to say and conversation after a loss, especially of a baby, is…well….awkward…but if you know of a family going through a similar loss, please don’t forget the baby’s siblings and don’t forget to encourage those parents who are left to shepherd their living children’s hearts. We had no clue if what we were doing for our kids was the right thing. Heck, we still don’t know but hearing from our family and friends that we are doing a good job has been a tremendous help. Life for the last 14 months has been a little bit like the blind leading the blind. We included the kids in as much as we have because we really didn’t know anything else and honestly, we have been too emotionally exhausted to do anything different. They came to the hospital  and held their sister. They helped us close the lid of her casket. They helped design Macy’s headstone and celebrated with us when it was finally placed. They have laughed with us as we imagine the trouble she is getting into in heaven. They have prayed every night that Jesus would give her an extra hug from us and whisper in her ear how much her earthly family loves her. They have cried with us and they have comforted us. They have cried out to God alongside us and wrestled their way through some pretty big questions with Him- just as we have.

I never want to shelter them from the hardships of life. I would much rather they get bits and pieces of it now while they are still under my wing; while I still have the opportunity to speak into their lives and point them towards the one and only true healer- Jesus. Last night, as I lie in my daughter’s bed, holding her while she sobbed and cried about how much she already missed Maja, all I could do was pray and remember Mark 10:16, “Then he took the children in his arms and placed his hands on their heads and blessed them.” Lord, take these children into your arms. Make it their place of comfort and rest. Let them know the feeling and security of your hands on their heads. And Lord, in all things- good and bad- bless them despite my own faults and failures.

A few weeks ago I was re-reading the account of Noah in the book of Genesis. I find it fun to re-study some of these “Sunday School” heroes and characters and compare how I interpreted their stories as a child and how I interpret them now, as an adult. I am continually amazed at how God has woven each and every one of these stories together; all relevant, all pointing towards Christ, and all working together to form one manuscript that, through the Holy Spirit, works its way off the pages and into the hearts and lives of His followers. It is fascinating and truly a work only of the Lord.

So, here I am making my best attempt at getting into the mind of a man named Noah. I have always had a soft spot in my heart for Noah. I mean the guy basically built a floating barn and left people scratching their heads as to why. Change the floating barn to an old house in the middle of nowhere, add in a pressure canner and a few chickens and you basically have the Lehman family. I kid you not. God had given Noah a special mission- one that He hadn’t given to anyone else- and when Noah acted in obedience, I’m sure his neighbors were questioning just exactly Who Noah had heard from. I know what it’s like to be misunderstood. God has asked our family to do certain things and walk certain roads that not many around us can understand. Leave the church you grew up in and go do life with a few other families in a house church? Homeschool your children when you know, literally, no one else who does? Carry a healthy child to fullterm but never bring her home? These are just a few of our examples. I’m sure you can think of a number of things from your own life, your own home. We all know what it feels like to be misunderstood or to feel like we are swimming upstream in the sea of American culture. Noah was a dude who was, without a doubt, working against the grain of his culture. The Lord had looked around and found nothing but wickedness and one guy, Noah, who was blameless and faithful in his walk with God. I can imagine that Noah was a pretty lonely dude.

Fast forward to the day the ark was finally finished. God instructs Noah and his family to amass a not-so-small entourage of animals and to board the boat. There they are- 8 adults and all those animals- sitting behind the closed door of a dark, damp and increasingly more stinky boat that was still sitting on dry ground. Let’s slow down here for a minute and re-read that and let it sink in…

…they were in a boat that was sitting on dry ground.

I don’t know if there were crickets on board the ark but I can image if there were, this would have been about the time that they would strike up their leg-twitching chorus. Eight adults looking around at each other and wondering, “Did we hear you right, God?” *cricket, cricket* We don’t know how long they sat there before the rain started to fall but being fully-human, we can imagine that if it were 30 seconds or 30 days, their hearts filled with fear. “Did we hear you right? I thought we had an understanding. Didn’t you lead me here for a purpose?” I don’t know about you but I can sure identify with that line of questioning.

There I was with a needle in my arm administering labor-inducing drugs. Eyes puffy but unable to produce tears. A belly swollen with a child who no longer had earthly-life. This child whose existence had completely caught us off-guard but who we embraced with joy, acceptance and faith- she was never in our plans but always in His. “Did we hear you right, God? Hadn’t you told us that we were to have a fourth child? We accepted Your plan, willingly, in obedience. Isn’t that what you had asked of us? You told us we were to have another child. We said ok. We let her into our hearts and loved her fully. We prayed for her and anticipated how we would raise her to know and serve you. Now you are taking her back? Didn’t we hear you correctly?” I have lived a good portion of my life being told that this kind of questioning was inappropriate. I am here to tell you that asking God these kinds of tough questions is exactly what has lead me to a deeper understanding of Him. In engaging Him, wrestling with Him, being in full-contact with Him, I have caught more than a glimpse of His heart. I still wake up- every day- with a question burning in my heart. In Jeremiah 17, God says, “I the Lord search the heart and examine the mind…” He knows that I have so many questions for Him whether I engage Him in them or not.

Alright, so this post has kind of gone here and there. No turn that I had intended when I set out to write today. I have hit on a lot of different things, many of which I am still processing and bringing before the Lord. I have a lot more to share about Noah and how the Lord is using his life to speak to me. But for the sake of you, my friends, I will draw this one to a close. I pray that these words are seen as a genuine attempt at revealing my walk with the Father in all it’s grit and ick. Life is messy and we are constantly being misunderstood, misunderstanding and wondering exactly what is going on here on Earth. Be encouraged- you are not alone. For His glory!

I have been working my way through Be Still and Know by Millie Stamm. It is a year long devotional written by a lady who was a dear friend to my grandma. The daily readings have a depth that I find lacking in a lot of devotionals and I have enjoyed the first several months of readings. The copy I have is an old, tattered, hand-me-down from my grandma. It is such a joy to come across her notes and underlinings. It’s a great reminder of who she use to be before Alzheimer’s snuck in and stole her away.

I digress. The scripture reading for today was John 10:10, “A thief comes only to steal and to kill and to destroy. I have come so that they may have life and have it in abundance.” I thought I had a pretty good handle on this passage. I can attest to the death and destruction that Satan desires for my life and I cling to the hope of Christ’s offered life in abundance. Then came the conviction. (I feel like this is a recurring theme in my life…like seriously, how many stories could be shared and then after a brief pause be followed with “…and THEN came the conviction…” I’m actually laughing to myself right now as I type…) Ahem, back to this morning’s conviction. Ms. Stamm writes:

“Every Christian has eternal life, but not every Christian has it abundantly in his daily experience. Abundant life is the life of Christ filling us to overflowing in every area of our lives. Any lack is not on His part in giving, but our part in possessing.”

Um, ouch. In the words of the great Jon Bon Jovi, “Shot through the heart…”

When you lose someone, the normal and natural reaction is grief and grief pretty much feels like death. There is a shift in priorities. Sometime that shift is good and sometimes it can be bad. There is a certain isolation and loneliness. There is a very physical response to grief which results in exhaustion, sickness, laziness. There is so little that brings relief from the misery of grief and even the relief itself is taxing. When the Lord created human beings, I truly believe He created us to grieve, to moan in sorrow and to experience the depths of suffering. He didn’t expect us to slap on a happy face and deny the gut-wrenching agony of loss. Jesus himself wept at the loss of his friend Lazarus.

So where am I going with this? I find myself in a spot where I am trying to reconcile my God-honoring grief and living life in abundance. Even in the valley of losing Macy, the Lord has been giving me life abundantly. It’s here that I find myself in an awkward, exposed and even embarrassed realization- I am struggling to do my part in possessing abundant life. I’ m not just struggling. I’m outright refusing. There is an indignant part of my heart that doesn’t want to make the effort. Deep down I feel entitled to a trouble-free existence. It’s terrible and I am ashamed but there is something (human nature? selfishness?) within me that feels like I have given so much to God, including my daughter, that I don’t owe Him any more. And it doesn’t stop there….I feel, think, act like He owes me. “I have given you this, this and this God. Now you owe me a life without financial hardship, I deserve a winning personality that draws people in and you should never allow my children t0 disobey or exercise their own sinful will.” Ugh. Just typing that and acknowledging such ugliness in myself is enough to make me sick.

So, what happens when a bill comes in that we can’t pay? How do I respond when my introverted awkwardness is exposed? What about those darling, willful children of mine? What is my initial reaction to my husband’s humanness? What happens when I don’t get what I think I’m entitled to? It’s not pretty, folks. That abundant life of abiding joy, peace beyond understanding, wisdom and patience in all circumstances? Nah, I throw my fist up in anger and tell Him that it isn’t what I want, that I need more comfort and less trouble. I have a choice- join with Him in abundance or join with the thief. In all things, God is providing His life but in most things I am doing a terrible job of possessing it. Lord, I confess this. I need You more and more and I need me less and less. Show me how to choose your abundance in the midst of grief’s chaos. Come, Lord, come.

Ten months ago today we closed the lid of Macy’s tiny casket; we laid our eyes on her tiny, precious frame for the last time. As I think back on that day, I’m really not sure how we had the strength or the ability to do it. It is astonishing. Really, I think back on April 11th through April 18th, 2014 and all I can see is a God who carried us- in every sense. The conversations, decisions, and actions that took place during that week were otherworldly. They were Him. I mean how could I have handed my baby’s body to a funeral director and still have the strength to walk out of the hospital empty handed? Don’t get me wrong, I was torn apart to have to do those things…but I did them. How? How could I have walked back into my home without her? How could I have labored and delivered her body knowing, KNOWING she would never cry, never open her eyes? How? How could I have picked out her casket? How could I have greeted the multitude of family and friends that attended her funeral? How could I have put her in the ground…and then walked away? How?

As I sat in that hospital bed with labor progressing painfully slow, a verse came to mind. It was a verse that one of my older kids had practiced just a few weeks earlier for Awana.

“But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.” 2 Corinthians 12:9

In that moment, the Lord spoke to my soul and assured me that He had this, that I was in His hands and He was capable. He told me that He knew how scared I was, how unprepared I was, and how terribly weak I was. It was the first of many, many times He would speak His promises to me over the next 10 months but it is the promise that I have come back to time and time again. Friends, this is the hardest thing I have ever done. I wrestle with God. I cry myself to sleep from time to time. I scream in anger. I have gotten so many things so wrong…but…His grace is sufficient for me- His power is made perfect in my weakness. It is only by His grace that I have endured a million pain-filled moments and made it to this day. His power doesn’t take away my pain. His power gives me strength to face my pain head on. His power brings me peace in the midst of my storm.

I don’t know what you have had to close the casket on or who have had to say goodbye to. I don’t know what kind of pain fills your moments or the thoughts that haunt your mind. But I do know that His grace is sufficient for you. He’s there and He’s waiting with outstretched arms, to perfect His power in your weakness. Be encouraged. Be loved. You are worthy despite your weakness.