Tag Archives: Tomorrow

Commencement

In April, we celebrate new things.

Like our new baby birds :)

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Last week

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This week. Hello world! What’s for dinner?

And new flowers – 20140424_101018

New shoots on our lantana. Love to see these come back year after year!

New shoots on our lantana. Love to see these come back year after year!

New babies

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Aww … Elisabeth Grace – my great-niece. Isn’t she precious?

Since this is a season of new things, I’m excitedly introducing a new blog today. From now on, I’ll be writing here – @ Eternity in Our Hearts.

If you’ve subscribed to Dimly Burning, I would be thrilled and grateful for your support of the new blog. You have been dear, patient friends to me as I’ve journeyed through seasons of grief, parenthood (with a tween!), marriage, and faith. These seasons have taught me that in the midst of heartbreak, life continues because – as a responsible adult – I  have to show up everyday whether I want to or not. But in my heart of hearts, I know that this is not all there is. God has placed eternity in our hearts.

For everything there is a season, a time for every activity under heaven. A time to be born and a time to die. A time to plant and a time to harvest. A time to kill and a time to heal. A time to tear down and a time to build up. A time to cry and a time to laugh. A time to grieve and a time to dance. A time to scatter stones and a time to gather stones. A time to embrace and a time to turn away. A time to search and a time to quit searching. A time to keep and a time to throw away. A time to tear and a time to mend. A time to be quiet and a time to speak. A time to love and a time to hate. A time for war and a time for peace.

God has made everything beautiful for its own time and has set eternity in our hearts, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end. Ecclesiastes 3:1 – 11).”

 April is what we longed for during the long, cold days of January. But sometimes new seasons, with their closures and beginnings, are messy.

For instance:

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“Helicopters” or “whirligigs”

These little maple seed pods are covering our yard, sidewalk, driveway, flower beds, and our lazy dog (no, just kidding).  As a kid, I used to love to throw these things up in the air and watch them twirl to the ground. But now, I have to sweep them or pluck them out of the beds before this happens:

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A tree where I don’t need a tree

Often, when we think of “new” we think of things shiny and efficient. But “new” in life is not like a new car. Many times, “new” blows in with a storm, a crisis. New creates a mess. A new divorcee or the new widow knows this. Anyone with a new diagnosis knows this.

Today I’m celebrating a blog with a new title and a new look. I kinda like it and I hope you do too.

And yet, friend, the sufferings and experiences that I’ve witnessed this week tell me that it may be spring outside, but it’s not necessarily spring in your soul.

My husband and I were recently eating outside at a deli on a beautiful day, and a couple walked past us. Because both of them were formally dressed in black, I instantly thought “funeral.” And I remembered how I wore a black dress not so long ago on a day when lots of other people were stringing Christmas lights.

We live in this tension between merriment and mourning. Those who have trusted in Christ live in the now and the now yet. More than ever, I believe that eternal life in Christ begins the moment we say “yes” to Jesus. Living as if we believe this can change everything about the “now.”

We’re entering the season of graduation. At some schools, this final ceremony is known as “commencement.” It’s the end. Yet the beginning. Life will continue as a series of conclusions and commencements. Some people will be ready for these adventures while others are riddled with anxiety. I’ve been both. I suppose it depends in part upon the season but more fully upon my measure of trust in the Timeless One.

I wrote the following words on a January day when the year was young and my heart felt old. I read these words now and I can’t come up with any different words to close one chapter (one blog) and begin another:

“The cyclical nature of seasons, even in the bleak midwinter, serves a preparatory purpose. Growth awaits. New life. Hope.

Duke Cancer Center, where I’ll be spending the day tomorrow with Daddy, is newly refurbished. It’s pretty and shiny, and no one wants to be there … You go there and realize that while the seasons of climate are relatively predictable, the seasons of physical life are sometimes not.

And so, when we think we know what to expect, we really don’t. In a mortal world, we see through lenses that are scratched and dulled by the jagged edges of sin, brokenness, and grief.

Even still, in seasons we couldn’t and didn’t predict, there are preparatory purposes. Even here, growth awaits. New life. And Hope. The truth, as told in Ecclesiastes, is that we were created for an eternal world. A different set of eyes are needed.

The season of Hope is not contained to Christmas or Easter morning. It’s not boxed in the attic or hauled to the curb.

Because ultimately each of us needs Someone who created the seasons and knows the scope of time from beginning to end. We need His eyes to see beyond the exterior and into the eternal. To see beyond the mess and into the meaning of it all.

The eternal cannot be boxed or packed or managed. One day everything that once looked messy will have meaning. We will see. For now – in whatever season we find ourselves – let us live with anticipation, fully and with purpose.

The seasons, those present or those that have passed away, hold for us purposes unfolding and promises coming.”

I hope you’ll join me for new seasons at Eternity in Our Hearts.

And if you are in a place where it’s not spring in your soul, I’d like to pray for you … If you want to leave a comment with a request, it’s truly my honor to lift your concerns to our Father.

Holy and eternal Father,

Thank You for being the God of all seasons. I praise You for being the same yesterday, today, and forever. You are before all things and in You all things hold together. I pray today with thanksgiving for the community I’ve come to know through Dimly Burning. I lift these dear ones up to you and ask that You would hold their hearts, especially those who are in a season when circumstances and hope seem dark. Lord, would You open their eyes to Your Word, Your faithful and good character, and Your promises? Give them grace to trust that You are the Guide who makes a stream in the desert and a path in the wilderness. Where they feel weak, rekindle a new dependence upon You that makes a dimly burning wick shine as a lantern for Your glory. When storms blow in, may Your hope be the anchor of their souls. Allow their hearts to rest in the love of the cross and the promise of the empty tomb. May they stand on the truth that any suffering on this side of heaven is nothing compared to everlasting joys that await believers in Christ. May we give all new opportunities and circumstances to You – whether we rejoice or grieve – in the faith that Your unfailing purpose is to make beautiful, eternal things.

Amen.

“Many Joys Are Waiting Yet…”

When I finally get there, I’m gonna stay!”

I laughed, but it was okay because Muriel and I have been friends for awhile now. Muriel says lots of things that make me laugh. All these years (and hardships) haven’t diminished her witty sense of humor.

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I had been reading to Muriel a few verses that she had written years earlier (when she could still see) on the front page of her Bible. She remembered most of the verses and said them along with me, especially Psalm 23:6 – “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.”

When I finally get there, I’m gonna stay!”

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Of course you will, my friend. Surely you will receive a beautiful reward from your Lord and you will joyfully lay every crown at His feet.

As we officially welcome summer this weekend, Muriel will celebrate another year on earth even as she longs for heaven. I understand her longing, but I’m thankful for more time with her – to chat and pray and read Scripture and talk about heaven. No matter what kind of day I’m having, time with Muriel changes my perspective. Let me share with you part of her story in her words, and you’ll understand why she is an extraordinary person:

Seventy years ago I set sail for Africa to become a medical missionary. The war (WW II) was still on so the only way to get passage was to go as the ship’s nurse. We sailed in full blackout down the coast of the U.S. to Brazil where we began our trip across the Atlantic. Most ships that were going went in convoy in case of a German submarine attack. Ours was a very fast ship so we went alone. We got across the Atlantic near to the coast of Africa when we were sighted by a submarine. Because of our speed, we were able to outrun it and land safely at the Port of Matadi in the Belgian Congo.

I was assigned to a station on the border between Congo and Uganda. I was thrust into a place where I knew no French, no native language, and nothing about tropical medicine!  I had to learn the native language, to sew up the wounds of Africans gored by buffalo or torn by lions and leopards, deliver babies, and treat tropical diseases. I was in charge of a dispensary where we treated 50 – 80 patients per day.  Before work began we had a Gospel service that every patient attended.

At the end of five years I returned to America for a year of furlough. Then I went to Belgium for one year of study in tropical medicine – all in French!

When I returned to Congo I was assigned to a new station up near the border of French Equatorial Africa. There I was in charge of a leprosy colony of about 100 patients. There was no cure for leprosy then, only care of ulcers and making patients as comfortable as possible. I was there for 4 years, then a year of furlough.

About 3 years into my third term at the leper colony, Congo got its independence from Belgium and became a very troubled nation with much fighting among tribes for supremacy.  We were evacuated from the country. I waited four more years, hoping to return, but the situation did not improve, so I resigned from the mission. I was thankful to God for the privilege of serving Him as His ambassador.”

These days, this amazing ambassador who nursed hundreds of broken people depends on nurses herself. While her earthen vessel is weak, Muriel’s spirit is strong. She chooses to be thankful. Some days are better than others, but Muriel chooses to look beyond what she experiences in any given 24 hours.

The lyrics to a song are taped to the door of Muriel’s room in the nursing home. I don’t know where the wrinkled piece of paper came from, but the words there perfectly describe how Muriel has lived.

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Dearest Muriel, I celebrate your life with deep gratitude and rejoice in the eternal joys that are waiting for you. Thank you for your example of courage, sacrifice, faith, and obedience. I can’t see beyond today, but my prayer – if I live to be 95 or just one day older – is to, like you, “cling to Him the more.”

If We Could See Beyond Today – by Norman J. Clayton

If we could see beyond today as God can see;

If all the clouds should roll away, the shadows flee;

O’er present griefs we would not fret,

Each sorrow we would soon forget,

For many joys are waiting yet

For you and me.

If we could know beyond today as God doth know,

Why dearest treasures pass away and tears must flow;

And why the darkness leads to light,

Why dreary days will soon grow bright,

Some day life’s wrongs will be made right.

Faith tells us so.

If we could see, if we could know, we often say,

But God in love a veil doth throw across our way.

We cannot see what lies before,

And so we cling to Him the more.

He leads us till this life is o’er.

Trust and obey.

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“Leave that to Me”

Life simplifies when we walk by faith, one day at a time:

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“I’ve many a cross to take up now,

And many left behind;

But present troubles move me not,

Nor shake my quiet mind.

And what may be tomorrow’s cross

I never seek to find;

My Father says, ‘Leave that to Me,

And keep a quiet mind.”

~ Anonymous poem printed in Keep a Quiet Heart by Elisabeth Elliot (my very favorite book!)

Psalm 68:19 – Praise be to the Lord, to God our Savior, who daily bears our burdens.

Isaiah 33: 2 – O Lord, be gracious to us; we wait for You. Be our arm every morning, our salvation in the time of trouble.

Matthew 6:34 – … do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

Lamentations 3:22 – 23 – Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness.

“This present day has trouble enough attending it, we need not accumulate burdens by anticipating our trouble, nor borrow perplexities from to-morrow’s evils to add to those of this day. What a folly it is to take that trouble upon ourselves this day by care and fear, which belongs to another day, and will be never the lighter when it comes? By our daily prayers we may procure strength to bear us up under our daily troubles, and to arm us against the temptations that attend them, and then let none of these things move us.” Matthew Henry’s commentary on Matthew 6:34

Are you asking “What if….?” today? Your Father answers, “Leave that to Me, and keep a quiet mind…”