Monthly Archives: January 2012

Ice Cold

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Last night the thermometer outside my kitchen window sunk to 9 degrees. When I put my head on the pillow I was thankful for my furnace and prayed God would rescue anyone faced with spending the bitter cold night outdoors.

But this morning when I came downstairs, the house was surprisingly chilly. I turned the thermostat up to 72, then 74, and even 76, but the indoor temperature remained in the sixties.

After church, while doing dishes with my coat on, I called the furnace man, Norm, and presented the problem. He asked when I’d last changed the filter. “Never,” I said.

Directing me to the basement (without any judgment in his voice), he walked me through the process of finding and removing the old filter. “Hold it up to the light,” he said. “Can you see through it?”

“No.”

“Not even a little?”

“No. It’s completely black.”

Without any criticism, his thoughtful response was, “Then our problem is easy to fix. Leave the filter out for a while and your house will warm right up. Then get some new filters tomorrow.”

While I was blubbering out gratitude he said, “Why don’t you take the old filter with you? That’ll help you get the right replacement.”

After we hung up, I stood in front of my purring furnace, filthy filter in hand, and broke into tears. It wasn’t about the warming furnace but the ice cold separation from Nate. He hadn’t been a handyman, but he did do a faithful job of replacing furnace filters. My heating dilemma had highlighted, in an unexpected way, how far away he really was… from the furnace, the filters, the house, and mostly from me. It was one more new bit of widow-awareness and felt like a sledgehammer to the heart.

One of the ways God cares for widows is by placing kindhearted people within arm’s reach, right when we need them. Last summer when the furnace was being installed, Norm mentioned ”my husband” doing this or that, which prompted me to tell him my husband had died. Today on the phone he seemed to remember that, handling my shortcomings with compassion. Whether or not he knew it, he was an instrument of God’s grace. And this isn’t the first time I’ve experienced “gentle handling” from “strangers.”

We’re all familiar with the Bible verse that says we should offer kindness to everyone, because that “person” might really be an angel in disguise. I’m learning the reverse is true, too: certain people act kindly toward me so quickly, I don’t even have a chance to initiate kindness first.

And that’s how our tenderhearted God arranges life around his widows.

“I will tell of the kindnesses of the Lord, the deeds for which he is to be praised, according to all the Lord has done for us— yes, the many good things he has done.” (Isaiah 63:7)

Eagerly Watching

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I’ve always loved being a mom. As a little girl I bonded with dolls and wished they’d come to life. As a 10 year old I named 8 children I hoped to have, and when I became a mother, despite the work load, it was my dream come true.

One day a girlfriend came over with her young children, and as our little ones played, we sipped coffee and chatted about how best to teach children about Jesus. Suddenly she said, “I’d be happy if Jesus came back to get all of us today.”

I said, “Oh, I hope not! Life is too good right now!”

Today, from my vantage point as a 60-something, I look back at my 20-something self and say, “How dumb can you be?”

Earthly life can’t possibly measure up to to heavenly life, and knowing the invisible Jesus can’t compare to relating face to face. It takes a leap of faith to accept these truths, since we have no frame of reference for what we read in Scripture about heaven. But I’ve bought into biblical truth 100%, leaning on it day-to-day, especially now in widowhood.

After Nate died, my longing for heaven shifted from, “It’ll be wonderful,” to “I can’t wait!” Though that change doesn’t directly mention a longing for Jesus, the truth is that Nate’s exit to heaven served to fasten my attention not only on his new home but also on the new and improved relationship he’s enjoying with Jesus. And in thinking more about that, my heart’s desire to meet Jesus has grown by leaps and bounds.

Even so, I’m challenged by the Bible’s statement, “You should eagerly watch for his return.” Surrounded by earthly matters, I’m not always “looking up” like I’m supposed to be. Am I anticipating Jesus’ coming as enthusiastically as I would look forward to a vacation or Christmas or even a friend’s arrival?

One of the lamps at my house has an interesting finial. It’s a tiny cat in a sitting position, purchased many years ago to represent the 5 cats our family has owned. The other day while cleaning, I noticed the cat was facing the window and the woods beyond, almost like she was watching for something. Though she isn’t real, I chuckled and thought, “Maybe she’s looking for the predicted snowstorm the rest of us are eagerly anticipating tonight.” I saw that little cat and couldn’t help but think how my gaze toward Jesus ought to be just that steady.

We have hundreds of things to think about each day that serve to push out thoughts of Jesus, but not to think of his coming at all is a mistake we’ll regret. Maybe I’ll use the cat as my reminder to “keep watching” for Jesus, at least in my heart.

As I turned away from the cat, it started to snow.

“Keep watch, because you do not know on what day your Lord will come.” (Matthew 24:42)

 

A Reminder to Remember

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After people die, their words gain in importance. We may have listened to what they said when they were with us, but we hear them with greater intensity after they’re gone.

For example, Nate chose a passage of Scripture as his favorite and never wavered as the years passed. Paul’s words in Hebrews 12:1-3 struck a chord with him because of the reference to running the particular race “set out before us” by God. In Nate’s view, each life-race looked different, some set on less strenuous courses than others, but our task was to run the one assigned to us, as best we could.

While Christmas shopping in December, I came across a tiny plaque with a portion of Hebrews 12 on it. When I saw it, I glommed onto it like it was a piece of Nate himself. Of course I know Scripture belongs to everyone, but the fact that it was his favorite passage linked it to him in a way that gave it more significance to me. Because he loved it, I’ll always love it.

The same holds true for someone’s personal belongings. Increased value post-death is what prevents a widow from cleaning out her husband’s closet or giving away what he owned. Even his scent, still hanging in the threads of his clothes, becomes precious, a reason to refrain from washing or dry cleaning his wardrobe.

Scripture makes good use of this principle. Jesus knew that those hearing his words were absorbing only part of the message while he was with them. Strangers listening on a hillside often turned and walked away, unable to believe the outrageous truths he taught. Religious authorities argued back; and his disciples suffered confusion. But Jesus knew that after his death, his words would take on greater potency, more effectively moving hearers to believe what he’d told them.

When a husband dies, that’s the end of his earthly existence, although his posthumous influence continues somewhat. But after Jesus died, he and his Father were ready with a plan that would not only continue his earthly influence but enlarge it to a world-shaking level.

He promised not to leave his followers as orphans [or widows] and said, “I will ask the Father, and he will give you another advocate to help you and be with you forever— the Spirit of truth.” (John 14:16-18) Since he’d just told them he was going away, causing them to feel low, this must have lifted them significantly. Then at Pentecost, they got their chance to meet this miraculous advocate, the Holy Spirit.

One of the Spirit’s many functions was (and is) to bring Jesus’ words and lessons to the remembrance of those he’d left behind (much like I remember Nate’s words) but to do so with added oomph, teaching and explaining what Jesus had meant in his earthly ministry. And he’s been doing it with excellence for 2000 years.

We can be forever thankful for this, because now that Jesus is no longer on the earth, what he taught has become especially precious to us.

Jesus said, “The Holy Spirit… will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you.” (John 14:26)