Any of his people among you may go up to Jerusalem in Judah and build the temple of the Lord, the God of Israel, the God who is in Jerusalem, and may their God be with them. Ezra 1:3 (NIV)
The temple in Jerusalem lay in ruins. It had been destroyed by Nebuchadnezzar’s army just as had been prophesied by Jeremiah and others. Now, time has passed and the wind has changed. God’s people living in exile in Persia have been granted permission by Cyrus to return home and rebuild.
This morning, I’m thinking about the seasons of life. All of us will face times of rebuilding that may or may not be physical. Some suffer the loss of some natural tragedy, but more often than not our rebuilding is the rebuilding of our lives after the loss of a loved one, rebuilding after a divorce, rebuilding after a significant move, a job change, or the rebuilding of life after our hopes and dreams shatter.
Whenever my life journey has brought me to a season of rebuilding, I have always, always felt overwhelmed by the task. It is the nature of the process. It stretches us, tests us, and generally requires an increased measure of faith. How apt that Cyrus’ decree to the Hebrew exiles included “May their God be with them.”
Facing a time of rebuilding life? May God be with you.
One day when Job’s sons and daughters were feasting and drinking wine at the oldest brother’s house,a messenger came to Job and said, “The oxen were plowing and the donkeys were grazing nearby,and the Sabeans attacked and made off with them. They put the servants to the sword, and I am the only one who has escaped to tell you!”
While he was still speaking, another messenger came and said, “The fire of God fell from the heavens and burned up the sheep and the servants, and I am the only one who has escaped to tell you!”
While he was still speaking, another messenger came and said, “The Chaldeans formed three raiding parties and swept down on your camels and made off with them. They put the servants to the sword, and I am the only one who has escaped to tell you!”
While he was still speaking, yet another messenger came and said, “Your sons and daughters were feasting and drinking wine at the oldest brother’s house,when suddenly a mighty wind swept in from the desert and struck the four corners of the house. It collapsed on them and they are dead, and I am the only one who has escaped to tell you!”
Last night Wendy and I attended a special healing service at our church. The theme of the service was healing our losses. It was about facing those griefs that have us mired on life’s road, about processing them so we can spiritually move forward. There was a large crowd on hand, and a good portion of the night was spent in quiet worship. There were stations set up around the perimeter of the room for people to receive communion, prayer, holy water, or to symbolically surrender their losses. Wendy and I have both had our share of losses in life, and it was good to meditate, reflect, and have some personal conversations with God about those things.
What struck me most last night, however, was the tremendous compassion I felt for others. I was surprised how many people I knew. I was also surprised at the pieces of their stories I knew. The abused who became an abuser and whose life fell completely apart. The person who lost a spouse. The person whose marriage ended in terrible pain and whose life is out of control. The person with incurable disease that is wreaking havoc on the home front. On, and on, and on. My heart broke for friends and acquaintances. My own whining and petty complaints were silenced in relation to the pain I saw realized in the lives of others.
Job seemed an appropriate book to start this morning. I was struck by Job’s terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. We all fear getting “the call” telling us tragedy has struck, but Job gets four of them in rapid fire succession. Assets gone, employees gone, business gone, children gone. We all have our share of pain in this journey, but I imagine that precious few of us know the sheer terror of losing everything we own, and nearly everyone we hold dear in a matter of minutes.
Psalm 112 is a psalm that I’ve internalized as a foundational text for my life journey. It describes the kind of person I desire to be, and I found myself reciting it over and over in my heart last night at the service. It came to me again this morning as I read of Job’s unforeseen calamity:
“He has no fear of bad news, His heart is steadfast, trusting in the Lord. His heart is secure, he will have no fear. In the end he will look in triumph at his foes.”
I am going to have my share of tragedy in this journey. It’s inevitable. Worrying about it, fearing its arrival, and being anxious about what dark tidings the future may bring do nothing to make this day worthwhile. In fact, I’ve come to realize that the unholy trinity of worry, fear, and anxiety serve only to suck the life out of me and keep me from living this day fully and abundantly.
Today, I’m thinking and praying about those who are suffering tragedies and losses in life that I can scarcely imagine. At the same time, I’m trusting God with today, tomorrow, and each day of my journey so that I can be free to live this day fully. I will have my own share of grief and loss along the way, but I will also have God’s grace and provision in the moment(s) that I need them.
The Lord had said to Abram, “Leave your native country, your relatives, and your father’s family, and go to the land that I will show you. Genesis 12:1 (NLT)
A faith journey always requires that you leave something behind.
Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning. Psalm 30:5b (NLT)
I recently read the book Churchill, a long biographical essay on the celebrated British leader by historian Paul Johnson. Other than my passing knowledge of Churchill’s role in rallying Britain to victory in World War II, I had very little specific knowledge of his life and background and I found the book a fascinating read.
One of the many things I learned in the book was how much of Churchill’s life was framed by loss and defeat. Churchill suffered critical political setbacks that would have ruined most men. He was criticized, diminished, and made a scapegoat. As Adolph Hitler rose to power and built the Nazi war machine, Churchill became a lone voice in the wilderness to the loud pacifist ideals of the day. He never gave up, however, and when the fate of the nation hung in the balance he became the one man with enough “blood, toil, tears, and sweat” to save the nation and, in so doing, the world from Nazi horrors.
I shouldn’t be surprised. Most great leaders suffer and overcome loss. God’s Message speaks again and again of the necessity of trials and suffering to produce endurance which produces character which in turn produces hope. I look back at my own journey and can see clearly how the most difficult stretches became the most critical in the process of spiritual transformation.
Today, I’m once again reminded to embrace the grief, loss and difficulties that come my way in anticipation of the joy which inevitably follows.
God spoke to Moses: “Divide up the inheritance of the land based on population. A larger group gets a larger inheritance; a smaller group gets a smaller inheritance—each gets its inheritance based on the population count. Numbers 26:52-54 (MSG)
Along the journey I have had the experience of walking families through the death of a loved one and the accompanying grief process. Death is a subject most of us try to avoid, and therefore it is a stretch of life’s journey that few individuals – not to mention entire families – are prepared to walk through.
What has been extremely sad for me to witness is the descent into conflict and bitterness that often occurs after the funeral of the deceased loved one. Family members position themselves for shares of the family inheritance. Sometimes the conflict is over large sums of money and land, but it I have often witnessed just as much conflict over small material possessions of little worth.
Looking back, I recognize that the issues and conflicts which arose while dividing the inheritance were the fruit of relational and emotional seeds planted within the family system years, sometimes generations, before the argument took place.
In today’s chapter, God gives Moses instructions for the division of the land in which the people are going to settle. The will is being drawn up. The inheritance is going to be divided among the 12 tribes representing numerous family clans and 600,000 men and their families. If you think there’s conflict in dividing the inheritance among a relatively small nuclear family, imagine the conflict that’s going to occur among the tribes, clans and families of the millions of Israelites.
The largest tribe, according to the census was Judah. This meant that Judah would received the largest amount of land as an inheritance. It’s interesting to note that Judah would eventually secede from the other tribes, establishing its own kingdom and entering into civil war with the other tribes. Were the seeds of that eventual discord planted in this process of dividing the inheritance of the land?
Today, I’m reminded that this world, with all that it possesses, is not my home. I’m reminded that the things of true value cannot be bought, sold, divided, or acquired by legal inheritance. I’m thankful for family and friends who value love more than any material object this world could possibly contain.
At the same time the word of God came to Shemaiah, a holy man, “Tell this to Rehoboam son of Solomon, king of Judah, along with all the Israelites in Judah and Benjamin, This is God’s word: Don’t march out; don’t fight against your brothers the Israelites. Go back home, every last one of you; I’m in charge here.” And they did it; they did what God said and went home. 2 Chronicles 11:2-4 (MSG)
Anger. Pain. Loss. Those are the ingredients for rash decisions and tragic reactions.
When Jeroboam rebelled and took half the kingdom with him, Rehoboam’s first instinct was to march to war and take back what he felt was rightly his. The carnage would have been unbelievable. We saw it in our own country’s civil war.
I’ve seen this same reactive “take back what’s mine” anger in many different situations:
Siblings fighting over toys when they are young, inheritance when they are older
People stalking boyfriends/girlfriends who’ve ended the relationship
Parents grasping after rebellious children
Spouses punishing their mates when they feel their spouse has taken advantage of them
I’ve always been struck by the story of the prodigal son. The father in the story didn’t run after his son and demand that he come home. It didn’t mean the father didn’t care or didn’t desperately want his prodigal to return. The father simply knew that reacting in anger and making his son return by force would never work. So, he chose to respond to his son’s hurtful, selfish decisions by staying home, sitting on the porch, waiting, keeping an eye on the road and praying.
We can’t control what others do. We can only control how we respond.
Yes, weep and grieve until the Spirit is poured down on us from above…. Isaiah 32:15a (MSG)
There are no shortcuts through grief. There are only side roads which, deceptively, exit and escape grief's path for a time but which never take you where you need to go.
Grief's road must be fully traversed before the Spirit is poured down from above and a new leg of the journey can begin.
