Grief

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Sometimes the news comes quick. Sometimes the news comes slow. No matter how or when it comes, grief travels in the wake of the news. Grief is heavy, weighty, a burden, especially when it involves someone deeply loved. Grief is not meant to be carried alone. It’s too heavy and may last a while—and that’s ok. That’s what family and friends are for, to share the load. Jesus stood outside the tomb of his friend and wept but He did not weep alone. It was a deep, human moment. “ Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted ” (Matt 5:4). If anyone knows how we feel in grief, it’s Him. But His grief did not linger long, as at the mention of his name, Lazarus came forth. We are not meant to dwell in grief, but should leave room enough for it. Let it run its course. Like the song says, “ Every Storm Runs Out Of Rain .” Another song says, “ The storm We will dance as it breaks The storm It will give as it takes And all of our pain is washed away Don't cry or be afraid Some things...

Strong in the weak places

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It's all catching up to me again:
  • Sunday School, we are taking a break from Mark and spending a couple of weeks on Philippians 4:1-9.
  • Ethics--spending the next couple of weeks on Genetic Engineering, which to me is a "non-issue" when you remember how a theological basis redefines everything (short version: man is not God). We find ourselves awash with all these ethical delimmas that should not be happening! I will be introducing the topic tonight with Huxley in one hand and Chesterton in the other (Brave New World vs. Eugenics and Other Evils). Writing these lectures are killing me--getting a theological response to these issues is necessary, but not easy!
  • Family: this whole teenager thing is really rocking the boat. I learn something about kids: you feed them, they grow. I am learning every day how much parenting is more about discipleship than anything else.

A friend of mine (a Kenyan pastor) smiles when I complain. "Look at how strong God is making you in all of those weak places!" And he feels my arms as if assessing strength . . . smiling.

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