Flash Back - Flash Forward

OH NO.  Not again.

It's happening again!  

Please don't make me go through this again - please....

But the memory crashes in unwanted, unbidden, and the events of that pivotal day tumble like blurry slow-motion video footage - surreal but yet so real that I can feel the weight of every word, every thought, every emotion. They are like billows - giant ocean waves - and there's nothing I can do to stop them.

I'm terrified because (in hindsight) I know what the result is before I even see it again - but still - the scene plays out: the phone rings, I answer, and I hear a familiar voice tell me news that no parent should ever hear. "There was an accident ... a head-on collision ... she was killed instantly ..."

The tumult of emotions - the grief, the shock, the incredible horror and sadness, the disbelief and the anger - all descend. No, no, NO! I don't want this - I want it to go away, to stop, PLEASE STOP...

But it doesn't stop. The wave crests, washes over me. I struggle to keep from being bowled over, to remember which way is up - "Look for the light. The light is up. Reach for it ..." My head surfaces for a second; I gasp for air as the current drags me downward for another repetition of that scene - that awful moment - or vignettes from the minutes and days that followed. "Remember. This too shall pass. Feel the feelings, process them, it will get better." 

Illustration "Sketch Of Woman Crying" by
luigi diamanti at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

In a cruel plot twist, the video in my head stops rewinding and replaying, and hits fast-forward ... showing me all the things I wanted to see but will never see: her finding a soul-mate and getting married, her having children of her own, her phoning me to ask me about potty-training ... all gone. 

I cry. I remember how full of life she was - I let myself feel how deeply I miss her, and hot tears fall and make tear-drop-shaped stains on my shirt as my shoulders heave up and down. 

I find some way to honour her. I find a song on YouTube that makes me think of her and her zest for living every moment. More sobs, acknowledging a future she and I will never have. I remember that someday, I will see her again. She'll wrap me in one of her big bear hugs, and lift me off my feet like she used to do.

It helps. I give myself the space I need to deal with the aftermath. I allow myself to grieve, to breathe, to look after myself, to reach out if I need to and to receive help from those who care about me.  Prolonged isolation is not my friend, even if I need some alone time at the beginning to get through the flashback and the flash-forward.

And the wave subsides. Someone throws me a life-line and pulls me to safety. I am able to let go, to relax. 

For now. 
Until next time.

No tears in Heaven - right?

Well, not exactly.

The Bible says, "God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." So there must be tears ... in Heaven.

Why? What would there be to cry about in a perfect place where there is no more sickness, no more death?

Between the Rapture of the church and the physical return of Jesus to Earth, there's this little-preached-about thing called the Bema Seat - or the Judgment Seat of Christ. It's when we Christians will find out the true value of everything we have done (and not done) as Christians. We may even be surprised at who we see there!! (if we even notice the presence of anyone else at all...)

1 Corinthians 3:11-15 talks about this time of reckoning. It is NOT a time when we will find out who goes to Heaven and who goes to hell. This is "for Christians only."

I believe it will be a time when many of us - I daresay most of us - will be very surprised at what awaits us. Those of us who think we have done well in this life may find that our reward was all down here in the praise of men or even in the satisfaction of doing good deeds ("it feels good to be good"), and therefore, little or no reward may await us. Those of us who don't think our lives have amounted to much on Earth may discover that our little dark corner where we have slogged away in obscurity, illuminates with far more lavish reward than we ever dreamed imaginable. The secret, the determining factor, is in the fire of God: the purifying, motive-revealing fire. Please understand that it is not PEOPLE who will pass through the fire, but WORKS. Our sins, past, present, and future, have already been placed under the Blood. There will be no "confession", no "repentance", no "redemption" needed. He will show us what really was, and what could have been. There will be nothing left for us but to accept His perfect plan for us, His decision on what rewards await us for the rest of eternity. Read with me the words of Paul, inspired by the Spirit of God:
¹¹For no man can lay a foundation other than the one which is laid, which is Jesus Christ.
¹²Now if any man builds on the foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, straw,
¹³each man's work will become evident; for the day will show it because it is to be revealed with fire, and the fire itself will test the quality of each man's work.
¹⁴If any man's work which he has built on it remains, he will receive a reward.
¹⁵If any man's work is burned up, he will suffer loss; but he himself will be saved, yet so as through fire.
(NASV)

What a day that will be! There are probably going to be lots of us who weep in remorse because of lost opportunities to reach out, wasted efforts in religious pursuits, and impure, selfish motives in what we may have considered "our ministry." There will be no escaping the truth, no rationalizing our behavior. "All things are open and laid bare to the eyes of Him with whom we have to do." (Heb 4:13)

Before we succumb to the temptation to say to ourselves, "Well then,... we'd better get busy!" that is not what this is about. This is about - as it always is with God - relationship. It's about being so busy doing the work of the Lord that we forget the Lord of the work. It's about Jesus waiting by the hearth of our lives, waiting to meet with us and spend time with us by the fireplace, enter our innermost dark corners and illuminate and warm them with Himself, free us from the chains of our pasts and cause us to realize how deeply He loves us. Once we realize this, our natural spiritual response will be to love Him back! That love will naturally spill over into our daily lives and touch the people with whom we come in contact - just like a beam of light pierces through the darkness. We will make a difference - for Him. Through Him. Because of Him.

Not for reward. Not for crowns or jewels ... or anything else except the constant awareness of His presence inside of us, transforming us, loving and working through us.

He is desperate for us to let Him know us, to let Him into our innermost places and accept His love and His grace to live every day in His anointing. Not "for the rest of my life." Just every day, while it is still called Today.

So the question that tells me if I am living progressively in that lifestyle is: am I looking forward to the Bema - the Judgment Seat of Christ - or not?

Home

Tomorrow we leave to go to my brother's funeral, which will take place on Thursday June 10. The love and the gentleness with which so many people have surrounded our family has truly been overwhelming. We are so very grateful.

Skip has truly gone on to his “Ain Country” ... How I love that old Scottish psalm. I can’t believe I found the lyrics online, and am including them below – with all the Scottish Gaelic expressions like “gowden” for golden, “hame” for home, “gang” for go, “ken” for know, “bairn” for baby, “oor” for hour (or our), "mair" for more, “sae” for so, “een” for eyes, "hert" for heart, "owre" for over, "noo" for now, and so forth.

I’ll be the first to tell anyone that I absolutely HATE death, with all my heart. It’s repugnant to me, spiteful, awful, horrible. That’s as it should be; Jesus hates death too. Matter of fact, He broke up every funeral that the Bible records He went to. Even His own. But God seems to give a special grace to those who are grieving a loss in Him. It’s a mystery – at a time when one would think the world is crashing down, there is hope of a better, glorious life for the one who has gone on, and hope of reunion when it’s our turn...

But I say with the hymn-writer and with all those saints who’ve gone before, “I long to see my Saviour first of all.”

Enjoy the lyrics below – every time I hear them, I think of an old Scottish shepherd sitting up on a hill watching his sheep and thinking out loud, letting his thoughts rise up to his Father God.

My Ain Country

I am far frae my hame, an’ I’m weary aftenwhiles,
For the langed for hame bringin’, an’ my Father’s welcome smiles;
An’ I’ll ne’er be fu’ contented, until mine een do see
The gowden gates o’ Heav’n an’ my ain countrie.

Refrain:
The earth is fleck’d wi’ flowers, mony tinted, fresh an’ gay
The birdies warble blithely, for my Faither made them sae:
But these sights an’ these soun’s will as naething be to me,
When I hear the angels singin’ in my ain countrie.


I’ve His gude word o’ promise that some gladsome day, the King
To His ain royal palace his banished hame will bring;
An’ wi’ een an’ wi’ hert rinnin’ owre, we shall see
The King in His beauty, in oor ain countrie.

Refrain


Sae little noo I ken, o’ yon blessèd, bonnie place
I only ken it’s Hame, whaur we shall see His face,
It wad surely be eneuch for ever mair to be
In the glory o’ His presence, in oor ain countrie.

Refrain


He is faithfu’ that hath promised, an He’ll surely come again,
He’ll keep His tryst wi’ me, at what oor I dinnna ken;
But He bids me still to wait, an’ ready aye to be,
To gang at ony moment to my ain countrie.

Refrain
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