I shared this yesterday morning as we introduced our four week series, “I Pray.” I wrote it on May 22, 2008 when we learned the cancer in Lois could not be removed and she had less than 2 years. Since I was in a hospital waiting room I couldn’t pray out loud, so I wrote this which is loosely based on Psalm 5.

Daddy, Daddy, Listen to me. Please?!

Daddy I need help making sense of all this. My brain hurts, my heart hurts, I can’t even cry anymore.

I really need you. I feel like my whole life has been broken into pieces – a thousand piece jig-saw puzzle with no picture on the box.

Forgive me, Daddy, for all the times I’ve insisted you do what I want – to make things come out my way. That’s never worked. I realize that now. I know you’ve forgiven me, but I’m still sorry.

I know you will protect us from the wicked evil in this world but I feel as if I’ve been overcome by the noxious fumes of confusion and deception and now I’m wandering around these hospital hallways in a fog. I can’t see where to go. I know I shouldn’t be afraid – but I am. Afraid of tomorrow let alone next week or next year.

So, I’d like to come into your study. I’ll quit talking.

I just need to be near you; for you to protect me. You don’t have to talk to me but if you do I’ll listen carefully, I’ll do my best to follow your instructions, because I know it’s the only way I’ll get through this.

Daddy, I need a hug – to be reminded that you love me just the way I am.

I can’t believe how fast time moves: today (January 21) would’ve been Lois’ 63rd birthday. Instead, she is already in Heaven basking in a City which is indescribably beautiful. I am fully confident she is with God, not because she was good; not because she helped scores of people; not because she prayed with people to accept Christ; not because she was a great wife, mother, and grandmother. Lois is in Heaven because Jesus redeemed her from sin and evil and she accepted that gift of salvation and followed Christ. In the end, Lois received the desire of her heart: to be with the God and Father of her Lord, Jesus Christ. She is experiencing all the wonder and fulfillment of Heaven.

When we think about Heaven, we often repeat Paul’s words, “For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.” (Phil 1:21) But what does that mean? We live in the tension between the already and the not yet. We know God has prepared a personal place for those who have placed their trust in Him; it’s already done. But we are not there yet. Our loved ones who have gone ahead of us are embracing and enjoying the total presence of God in the very place that God intended for them from before the beginning.

Not one of us is immune to death; apart from the return of Christ, every one of us will die. Death comes in many forms: old age, chronic illness, accidents, cancer, or some unforeseen sudden failure of a critical organ in our body. Death is coming. But we are living between the already and the not yet.

As Christ-followers we have the opportunity (or obligation?) to respond to death in a way that is Biblically informed; an attitude which sets us apart. As Believers we know that death is not the end – it is actually the beginning. We know that death is not to be feared because to be “absent from the body is to be present with the Lord” (2Cor 5:8). We know that eternal life as joint heirs with Christ is to be valued far more than all the riches this world could possibly offer.

Whenever the negative emotions creep in, I remind myself that I am not on the throne, God is! His power and grace and mercy and presence are what I need – and I need that far more than I need Lois! Do I miss Lois? Yes. But I fully recognize that this journey isn’t about me. It’s all about God – the maker of the heavens and the earth; the great Giver who sent His only Son to pay the price for my sin; the Master of the universe who cares so much about me that He knows my every thought. So I center my thoughts on Him and live between the already and the not yet.

Today, January 21, 2015, would’ve been Lois’ 62nd Birthday. I’ve received phone calls, texts, emails – thanks for your thoughtfulness.

The past three months have been interesting as I’ve navigated through being a permanent pastor without Lois by my side. I miss the conversations, help remembering names, and times we spent praying for and with people. I miss her praying for me! Once again being in a leadership role in the rhythm of church life has surfaced anew all the ways we complimented each other. She was my partner!

Job said, “The Lord gives and the Lord takes away; blessed be the name of the Lord.” (Job 1:21) Little did I know how many times I would repeat those words. Sometimes I mean them. Other times I repeat them because I want to mean them.

There are times when I think, “I can’t do this” but at the same time I recall Jesus’ words: “I tell you the truth, the Son can do nothing by himself. . . “ (John 5:19). As someone who is striving to follow Jesus better, I too, can do nothing by myself. And so I am learning (still) to follow more closely, watch more carefully, listen more intently, pray more fervently . . .

I’ve said this many times and it bears repeating: Lois’ cancer and death does not define me. I am defined by Christ in me and that is my hope. It is God, through the power of His Spirit, who strengthens, encourages, compels, and empowers me to live each day for His Glory and the expansion of His Kingdom.

Twenty-six days after we celebrated our 34th wedding anniversary, Lois was completely healed; never to die again! It was 9-11-09.

“The Lord gives and the Lord takes away; blessed be the name of the Lord.” (Job 1:21)

Little did I know three years ago today how many times I would repeat Job’s words. Sometimes I mean them. Other times I repeat them because I want to mean them.

In Psalm 31:1-5  I find words that are more than I can fathom and I’ll share the Esch version:

“In you, Lord, I am taking refuge, don’t let me down. Take me seriously because I seriously need You to listen and rescue me with your righteousness. I need you to hide me from the loneliness, discouragement, and frustration which threaten me with ruin.

From the beginning, Lois and I publicly proclaimed our faith and trust in You – the reputation of your name is at stake – a lot of people are still watching and waiting for the train wreck. Lead and guide me away from the trap of self-pity for you are my strength and protection.

Once again, I affirm my commitment to trust you with my life. You’ve never let me down and I don’t expect you ever will.”

Every day I present myself as a living sacrifice asking God to make me holy and acceptable; like soft clay in His hands. And every day I find myself confessing – again – my willfulness in demanding my own way. His grace is more than I can fathom.

May each of you experience the peace that continues to surprise me.

One year ago today, Lois died. It was only the end of her journey here on earth – her soul, the “real” Lois lives on with her heavenly Father for all eternity. How can we possibility be sad about that? Lois is embracing and enjoying the total presence of God in the very place that God intended from before the beginning.

In this journey we call life, no one is immune to death; apart from the return of Christ, every one of us will die. Death comes in many forms: old age, chronic illness, accidents, cancer, or some unforeseen sudden failure of a critical organ in our body. Death is coming.

As Christ-followers we have the opportunity (or obligation?) to respond to death in a way that is Biblically informed; an attitude which sets us apart. As Believers we know that death is not the end – it is actually the beginning. We know that death is not to be feared because to be “absent from the body is to be present with the Lord” (2Cor 5:8). We know that eternal life as joint heirs with Christ is to be valued far more than all the riches this world could possibly offer.

Whenever the negative emotions creep in, I remind myself that I am not on the throne, God is! His power and grace and mercy and presence are what I need – and I need that far more than I need Lois! Do I miss Lois? Yes. But I fully recognize that this journey isn’t about me. It’s all about God – the maker of the heavens and the earth; the great Giver who sent His only Son to pay the price for my sin; the Master of the universe who cares so much about me that He knows my every thought. So I center my thoughts on Him.

Today I will celebrate: The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord!

At the conference this morning, our worship leader read Job 1:13-20 and then led us in singing Matt Redman’s song, Blessed Be Your Name, which was written based on the passage from Job. As we sang and the tears streamed down my face I realized it was time to share what I journaled on Sunday night, September 13 – two days after Lois died. What follows is what I wrote when I was by myself – no one else in the house – just me sitting in front of a blank screen with Matt Redman’s lyrics going though my mind. I added some comments today which are indicated with { }.

Oh God, this pain is almost too much. Lois is gone. I know she is with You; no more cancer, no more neuropathy, no more nausea but she isn’t here with me. I am grateful that she didn’t suffer for a long time; that this wasn’t a long, drawn out death, but Lois isn’t here anymore! I keep thinking about all the things we still wanted to do; all the conversations we planned to have with our kids and others, and the churches we wanted to visit together one last time . . . {While driving home from the hospital on Aug 19 we made a list of priorities for what we thought would be at least four months. The Dr’s prognosis was two to six months so we thought four months was a good guess.}

Father, I don’t have any regrets but is it wrong for me to want more? Am I being too selfish to want to hold her hand, to hear her voice, to have one more opportunity to make her a cup of hot chocolate or warm up a rice bag? I really do want to be able to sing this song but I keep thinking about Job – his material things were taken away – we have very little and I can’t relate. His children and their spouses and, I assume, his grandchildren were all taken away and I can’t imagine the pain that would cause, but he still had his wife. Is it wrong for me to complain that I have it worse than Job? {When I read this now – six weeks later – I am amazed at God’s patience with me!}

Lord, Job could still praise you after he lost so much. I need to praise you again. Lord, I feel like I’m in the desert; the wilderness. I’m very aware that the pain of this grief will be yet another journey; another adventure. I’m torn. On the one hand I want you to take the pain away and yet I can’t bear the thought of NOT grieving; of not having this sorrow.

So Father, help me say it – even if its with clenched teeth and tight fists – help me say it and mean it:

The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.

The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.

The Lord gives and the Lord takes away, Blessed be the name of the Lord.

Blessed Be Your Name

by Matt Redman

Blessed be your name
In the land that is plentiful
Where the streams of abundance flow
Blessed be your name

Blessed be your name
When I’m found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed be your name

Every blessing you pour out,
I turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say…
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be your glorious name

Blessed be your name
When the sun’s shining down on me
When the world’s all as it should be
Blessed be your name

Blessed be your name
On the road marked with suffering
Though there’s pain in the offering
Blessed be your name

Every blessing you pour out,
I turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say…
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be your glorious name

You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord, Blessed be your name