Sunday, September 18, 2016

When Death Multiplies Life~

As I walk past the bed of my husband's truck, I see it.

Not it, actually.
Its upon its upon its.
One seedling after another, growing there in the most unlikely of places.

And, I smile and wipe a tear all at the same time.

Technical difficulties of the auto-mechanical kind
have left my husband's truck
motionless and still.

Day after day after day.
Week after week after week.
Month after month after month.

The sight of it sitting there,
without his life to breathe life into it
through the turning of his key in the ignition switch,
is just another painful, tear-evoking reminder of my loss.

Day after day after day.
Week after week after week.
Month after month after month.

And yet, standing there today,
gazing into the bed of his truck,
I realize more life is here than I could ever have possibly dreamed.

Parked underneath a desert willow,
seeds from above have fallen and taken root.

Not one seed,
not one seedling,
but an entire truck bed full.
I assure you and most solemnly say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone [just one grain, never more]. But if it dies, it produces much grain and yields a harvest.~John 12:24
Death that brings life.
Sacrifice of one for the harvest of many.

It's a mystery to be sure.

And yet the one truth that cannot be denied
is the exponential way in which new life springs forth from one seed,
seemingly dead and lifeless,
buried under the weight of all that would seek to
suffocate it,
snuff it out,
cover it up.

Death brings life.

And in a totally different way,
and yet much in the same fashion,
I have seen the death of my husband
sprouting up as
seedlings of hope,
seedlings of comfort,
seedlings of redeeming the time,
seedlings of appreciating others,
seedlings of don't put off until tomorrow what you can do today,
seedlings of desiring Jesus in a real and personal way,
seedlings of living out our God-given destiny,
seedlings of make. it. count.

Day after day after day.
Week after week after week.
Month after month after month.

Through my husband's death -
and the words God has given me to share
as I walk this journey
and surrender to His will -
I am seeing God bring new life.

And greater still,
I can't help but think,
that just like these seedlings have gone unnoticed in the bed of this truck,
there are countless more seedlings springing up from this loss
that I have yet to discover.

For death -
death in and through Christ Jesus our Lord,
doesn't take life,
it gives life.

Just look at the cross.

Just look at the sinless lamb of God.

Just look at The One who was willing to die for a harvest of many.

Just look at the new life you and I are now living.

And this new life doesn't just last
day after day after day,
week after week after week,
month after month after month,
or even year after year after year.

This new life,
the kind of life that only Jesus' death can bring,
lasts for ever and always,
for all eternity.

For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.~John 3:16

Friday, September 2, 2016

The cry of His Heart~

It's September.  And you know what that means, right?  It's elk bugling season.  This month, and every single day, has me remembering my husband.  Elk bugling season - one of his favorite times of the year.  So....I am re-posting this precious memory.


When was the last time you were immersed in real life?

Last night,
(although, technically, I suppose 2:00 am would be classified as morning)
my husband and I were knee deep in pondersosa pines and elk.

As the moonlight flooded the meadows and framed the majesty of mountain peaks,
my love and I were serenaded.

All around us we heard the song of bugling elk.

{Photo Credit}                                             
My wild-at-heart husband had brought along his elk call.

 As I sat breathlessly still,
he called and the elk answered.

As I listened,
I felt as though I was eavesdropping on their conversation.

With each call,
the elk responded.

With each invitation,
the elk drew nearer.

My husband was soon able to woo these "mighty men" of the mountain into our very midst.

This is real life.

Whether knee deep in nature,
lost in piles of laundry,
or wading our way through a field of fear, failure, or fatigue,
if we listen,
 if we take the time to be still,
we will hear our Kingly husband, Jesus,
serenading us.

In whispers of forgiveness,
in shouts of majesty,
in melodies of blessing, favor and faithfulness,
He woos us to Him.

He beckons us to draw near.
He invites us to come into His very midst.

Today, stop.

Allow the call of His heart to penetrate your own.

Don't resist.

Don't turn away.

Let His voice be all you are attune to.

Follow the sound of His heartbeat.

Draw near to the sound of His voice.

Step out of the darkness and into the light of His love and grace.

Come into His very midst.

For this....

Misty mountain path
{Photo Credit}

 is real life.~