Was it best?

Tonight is New Year’s Eve, and in a few minutes 2010 will tick its way into 2011. Horns will blow, cheers will ring out and kisses will be planted. In our temporarily-busy home, the little people are asleep, the older ones are out having fun, and I’ll be in a quiet place enjoying a one-on-one with the Lord. 

Recently Nelson and I chatted about favorite places, specifically comparing life in Michigan vs. Illinois. Both of us were born and raised in the Chicago metropolitan area, familiar with the suburbs and all they offer. Living now in a small town fairly far from everything has been a radical change. Nate and I moved to our summer cottage three months before learning of his fatal cancer, and six weeks after that, he was gone. We were barely unpacked.

The question everyone asked then was, “Will you be moving back to Illinois?” Actually it was more like a statement: “Surely you’ll be moving back.”

I answered in the negative, determined to pursue the plan Nate and I had designed from the start. But was it the best choice?

Since we moved, I sorely miss lifelong friendships, deep relationships begun in the 1970’s as we started raising families together. All of these women are 110 miles from me now, my sister included. I also miss women-friends who have a passion for prayer. Four women and I spent thousands of hours praying together over two decades, growing close through our shared love of spending time in God’s throne room.

And then there’s the church, actually two churches, the one I grew up in and the one we attended for the last 20 years. I miss the pastors and their preaching, the Sunday morning music and many fine friends.

I miss my neighbors and the deep camaraderie we developed as mothers raising our children who became fast friends. Between all of us and the windows in our homes, we could let the kids roam the neighborhood even as toddlers, and still keep an eye on them.

There are other losses, too: familiar roads, stores, merchants, doctors, routines in all categories. With such a long list of “I-misses”, why would I want to stay in Michigan?

Two reasons: quietness and isolation.

Spending time alone isn’t always negative for a new widow or anyone attempting to sort through a host of changes. Actually, it’s necessary.

God often waits for us to isolate ourselves from life’s bustle before he speaks. He has ideas, plans and comfort ready for us but won’t be just one of many waiting in line for our attention. At the Michigan cottage I’ve been able to hear him clearly and depend on him completely. Would that have happened had I moved back to Chicago?

I’ll never know for sure, but it would have definitely been easier to hide from the work of grief while meeting the commitments of a full calendar. God put me in Michigan exactly when he intended I be here.

And when we know where God wants us, it’s a good idea to stay there…. especially on New Year’s Eve.

“I know whom I have believed, and am convinced that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him until that day.” (2 Timothy 1:12)

S’not what it seems.

We should have bought stock in Kimberly-Clark. This week’s Kleenex use could have upped our dividends.

Sniffling, sneezing and snotting are the reasons for pink noses, chapped cheeks and lots of crying. Although we’re faithfully laundering dish rags and face cloths, our current disease is spreading.

Those of us over the age of accountability eagerly look forward to 8:00 pm each day when all the small fry are tucked into bed. That’s when we gather in front of the fireplace with our simple meals to have adult conversation. Ahhhh.

Tonight talk turned to Scripture and the voice of Jesus who challenged his disciples to “change and become like little children” if they wanted to enter the kingdom of heaven. These strong words were his response to their question of who would be highly ranked in heaven. Jesus elaborated (in a dozen verses) on how important it was to become like children, little ones, if they wanted to be saved.

What did he mean?

Today we watched five little children being childlike, which translated to making endless demands and crying incessantly. How do we jive this with what Jesus said?

In our discussion tonight, we concluded he must have meant we’re to have childlike faith in him. And all the sadness and crying of five sick little people is, surprisingly, a good example of this. Skylar, Nicholas, Micah, Evelyn and Thomas are all needy, completely helpless on their own. They can’t accomplish anything without the rest of us.

So they call to us to save them from their misery, acknowledging their need in the process. Jesus was saying, “Notice that. They have faith in you. They trust you. They’re completely dependent on you. That’s exactly where you ought to be in relation to Me.”

But there’s more to it than that:

  • Young children look to their parents as God-substitutes, the model standard of what’s right and wrong. If mothers and fathers are trustworthy, sons and daughters can more easily trust a heavenly father when the time comes for a faith of their own.
  • Our babies know we’ll do our best to help them in their health crises, because they believe we can and will. In the same way, we ought to have faith in God to help us through our troubles, being absolutely certain he can and will. Just as children take everything literally, the Lord wants us to believe in him that way, too, literally to trust him with our lives.
  • Jesus’ comments were not an attempt to elevate children but rather a challenge for his disciples to lower themselves to the humble state of young children (who had no rights in those days). In doing so, they’d become fit for his kingdom, even to becoming the greatest.
  • Our five ailing babies are surrounded by the true love of their parents and also the rest of us. When we help, they warm to our care. God’s heart beats even more passionately toward us, and he rushes to our aid with love beyond our understanding, hoping we’ll warm to his activity in our lives.

And on that note, I’d better check our Kleenex inventory.

“Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 18:3)