Letting Go, Part II

Last night, as Birgitta drove the five hours back to her college campus on icy roads, I stayed nervous until her text came through: “Just got here.” After that, I could breathe.

Life insists on our letting go of our children, but they aren’t the only ones. As we go through the years assigned to us, we have to say goodbye to parents, mentors, friends, pastors and others. Each positive relationship that has to end involves a negative go-moment.

The old expression, “When God closes a door, he opens a window,” means that when one situation ends, another begins. Every time we willingly let go of someone or something, we’re saying yes to whatever is outside that open window. Again and again God shows us that letting go of one thing opens up something else.

When I was a grade-schooler in the 1950’s, many of us walked home for lunch. Once in a while Mom would let us watch TV while we ate, and a 350-pound man who called himself Two-Ton Baker became our friend through the tiny, round screen.

Two-Ton loved kids, and occasionally he’d have one on his show to sing and banter with him. The child was always invited to grab a handful of candy from a giant glass jar, but a clenched fist full of goodies could never fit back through the small opening. The child would have to partially open his hand to get it out, thus letting go of some of the candy.

This is what happens when we try to hold onto someone or something after it’s time to let go. Our loss seems much greater the tighter we cling. Most departures have to happen anyway, and by hanging on, we lose the chance for a positive send-off. It’s as if we lose all the candy, not just some of it.

Sometimes, however, a go-moment just can’t go well. When a letting-go takes place next to a casket, it’s all negative. Someone precious has gone, and the slam of that closed door hurts deeply. A window may be opening, but we can’t see it through our crying.

God knows how difficult it is to let go. He let go of Jesus for 33 years after they’d been joined in a closeness we can’t begin to comprehend. And Jesus let go of his Father while simultaneously imposing human limitations on himself. He also let go of divinity and royalty to live in poverty. Their separation must have been excruciating, and yet they planned it and did it. The reason? Love of us.

Letting go is always an emotionally draining process. For a Christian who lets go of a loved one through death, however, the emotional pain will one day end abruptly.  Our separation is only temporary, just as it was for God the Father, and God the Son.

They endured. We can endure.

Because some day all our go-moments will be gathered up into one eternal coming-together.

“God blesses you who weep now, for in due time you will laugh.” (Luke 6:21b)

Poor Job

Today our ladies Bible study began a new book: Job. The first chapter leaves us breathless watching four of Job’s servants delivering nonstop bad news. In seven verses we learn that this exceedingly wealthy man has lost 11,000 farm animals, all but four of his many employees, and his ten precious children. Later in the story he also loses his health.

Interestingly, as today’s Bible study leader began, she first updated us on the health of two hospitalized men from the congregation. Both were not doing as well as expected, and our group was disappointed by the news.

Part way through our morning, the other pastor arrived to say one of these men had taken a turn for the worse, his family being summoned to say goodbye. We talked of the two wives who were suffering also, and the woman sitting behind me whispered, “It’s too much.” Suddenly we felt the relevance of the Book of Job.

We’re learning that the same calamities Job experienced 3000 years ago still happen today: losses of family, wealth, possessions, business and health.

Why does God let/ask people to suffer? Today our group talked about the reasons in relation to Job. Maybe his relationship with God was strong only because his life was bursting with blessings. Removing those would test him.

Maybe God wanted to increase Job’s trust in him by letting him discover that when you have nothing, you still have God. Maybe he wanted to deepen Job’s faith by allowing Job to show himself how he’d weather a storm. Or maybe Job’s story is simply a teaching example for the rest of us. As we look at his life we think, “Job made it, so I think I can, too.”

Those may be valuable reasons for his suffering back then, but knowing them doesn’t lighten our loads now. When my husband got cancer and died, it was the worst thing that ever happened to me. But who’s to say my suffering is over?

Our world is broken. The last time it wasn’t “out of order” was in the Garden of Eden. I’ll bet there was no suffering there. Although Adam and Eve were people much like us, until they sinned against God, their lives were without struggle or sorrow. Their world was all “good”. God even said so.

Our world isn’t so good.

I’m steeling myself for what I think we’ll learn from Job, that more suffering is coming for me and all of us. Until we leave this earth as Nate did, through death’s door into a God-created, “good” paradise, we’ll be challenged with losses of family, wealth, possessions, business and health.

The miracle for each of us is that we’re not suffering on a continual basis. Although God allows losses, he also provides periods of non-suffering, times for recuperation and strengthening before the next challenge. I think Job will teach us that when things are going well, life hasn’t “gotten back to normal.” Our real “normal” is to do battle with adversity.

But if Job can make it with his faith in tact, so can we.

“Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him.” (Job 13:15a)

A Shining Star

While running errands today, I got off at the wrong expressway exit, then turned the opposite way of the store. And I forgot to buy what I went to get, because I’d left my list at home.

At the pharmacy drive-through, the girl behind the glass said, “$8.15.” I put $8.00 in the drawer with a dime and nickel, but she immediately slid it back out to me. “That was a penny,” she said. I took the penny and substituted a nickel, but the drawer came out again. “Either send me a dime or another nickel.”

Simple tasks have gotten complicated, but this is my new reality, and whining about it won’t help. Besides, I’m not the only one struggling to adjust. This week I met another widow whose husband passed away just before Nate. Without even a minute’s warning, her Phillip died at their breakfast table. Rhea is only 23 years old and gave birth to a daughter one month after her husband’s death.

But there’s more. Baby Sandra arrived with major health issues that include frequent races to the emergency room, yet her mommy, the new widow, smiles and talks of God’s lavish blessing over these last months. After hearing her story, I was speechless.  My organizational blips are a pitiful excuse for complaining. If I had to step into this young girl’s shoes, I’d crumble. Yet she’s a sparkling example of taking God at his word when he said, “I’ll provide for you.”

Rhea leans on the Lord every day with the full weight of her complicated situation and has unshakable confidence he’ll continue to meet her needs indefinitely. She and her husband served together in Kenya, establishing homes for orphans. And because little Sandra’s recent surgery was successful, the two of them will soon return there.

For most of us there’s a huge gap between shouldering the burdens we’ve been asked to carry and our willingness to seek God’s help. In that gap of complete helplessness, we try to help ourselves, a ludicrous approach to our problems.

But the greater problem is setting God aside and using him as a last-resort solution. Self-sufficiency, esteemed in our society, is always a bust next to the way God wants to do things. His offer is to co-shoulder our burdens and sometimes obliterate them completely. By trying to do things our way, we not only risk making a mess but forfeit the supernatural blessing and unexpected joy Rhea is now experiencing. We also throw away a golden opportunity to give God credit for the amazing things that happen to us and around us when we abandon ourselves to him.

I asked Rhea if she has clung to any specific Scripture passage during these challenging months since Phillip died. Her surprising answer came quickly:

“Do everything without grumbling or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a warped and crooked generation. Then you will shine among them like stars in the sky.” (Philippians 2:14-15)

Rhea is shining brightly!