The end of the story

Distractions.
Hurting.
Loneliness.
Grieving.
Wholeness.
Healing.
Glory.

These are some of the topics that have been pried to the surface of my thinking lately.

Sunday morning I felt drawn back to NEC and was surprised to learn that they were having a kids program in place of the regular service. Kids Zone was a place that I personally taught for about a year and a half, and loved it, so I prepared to be blessed.

Some of the current teachers did a skit about a laboratory and they floated an egg in saltwater, demonstrating what happens when we add God’s word to our lives. We are lifted. In the same way, Lazarus was raised from the dead when Jesus called the command.

Then they acted out the story of Lazarus. It was cute and comical with adult humor and contemporary wit, but I may be the only one out of that huge congregation who cried.

In the middle of it, when Martha came to Jesus’ feet crying, "If only you had been here, Lord, he wouldn’t have died!" And the words reached into my deepest wounds like tiny claws and made me bleed again.

Oh God! I know that argument. I know too well how it feels to ask that why and not understand it all. Why did you stay where you were for two more days, Lord? Tears came quickly then. Again, Mary came to Jesus and repeated the anguished cry, IF ONLY you had come sooner, Lord! Even he wept, which touches me deeply. Yes, I have my resident "if only" in the back room of my heart.

Then I was struck again with the poignant beauty of the rest of the story when they moved to the part about going to the tomb. Lazarus had been dead four days and the women argued, Lord, he’s dead and this stinks! (my paraphrase)

But another line was added to the drama on stage when I felt the Lord speaking again to my soul. Jesus’ answer, at least the way I heard it went like this… “This story isn’t going to end in death, but in GLORY! Remember, I’m not finished yet.”

Yes, and what a wonderful, refreshing, dynamic truth. THIS STORY doesn’t end in death! We go on to glory! Even before we leave this body, this planet, the whole theme of creation is to show forth the glory of God. God wants me to focus on the ultimate glory even in the silence, even in that transition period before he returns.

Whether it’s four days as it was for Martha and Mary, or four years, or forty more years… He’s going to show up again and call our names with power and authority! He will loose the grave clothes and truly, finally, we will be set free. The trump will resound and we will all be raised! Hooray! He’s told us ahead of time so that we can hang onto the promise and wait in hope. We don’t have to grieve in the darkness of despair, like those who have no hope.

Until that day, I will bring my questions and complaints to Him because I KNOW he loves me still. He knows my pain, feels my sorrow, and doesn’t condemn it. I remember how even he cried from the cross, "FATHER! WHY hast thou forsaken me?"

In the same way, he beckons me to pour out my inner anguish, surprisingly fresh even with the passing of time. It’s been the hardest, the deepest loss I have ever felt, but I know, I know, I know that glory will come of it.

I stood outside very late last night and again the Lord reminded me of his presence. All I did was stand there in the driveway in front of my darkened empty house and look at the stars.

Isn’t there a message for the listening heart in the beauty of the skies? It’s as natural as breathing. When we’re in the deepest, darkest part of night, and everything is clothed in shadow, we turn our eyes upwards to the heavenlies. We are drawn to the glimmering of the distant lights. They sparkle in silence, while the moon reflects a hidden sun.

The Lord seemed to whisper the reminder once again. "Karen, there is more to come! This story will end in glory! Remember, I’m not finished yet!"

BLUE SNAIL

Sometimes I feel so alone in the world.















There are times that I am jabbed with the thought like an elbow in the womb.

I could be sitting on the beach having such pleasant thoughts and reveling in the beauty of sand and surf all around me. The air is sweet where grassy fields meet salty spray and sounds of sea gulls carry me to faraway lands and places. Kids laughing and splashing sound just like mine, though they are all grown now.

Sounds and smells so familiar lull me to peaceful serenity every time I sit on the beach. Basking in the sun I find myself in that nether world somewhere between reality and a distant dream. With my bottle of water and lotion, a couple of books in my bag, it is luscious to know I have a couple hours just to think and watch and pray.

I bird watch, I sky watch, and of course, I people watch. They drift by in relaxed chatter. Girls and children giggle, guys flex and act tough, couples hold hands and banter. Some pick up rocks and shells. Some dabble their toes in the cool water. Some jog and some meander. Then when they’ve had enough they pick up all their stuff, so much stuff, and head back to the car.

I am surrounded by little clusters of human groupings, like families, friends and lovers. All polite, but steadfastly distant. Like me they are just here to enjoy the nothingness, the solitude.

People don’t come to the ocean to connect to other people. They come to disconnect from their everyday lives. I think we come to feel a part of something much bigger than one another, and greater than our ordinary lives.

We were made to yearn for timelessness and our inner spirits crave renewal. We come to put our toes in God’s creation and feel that we have brushed up against eternity. When we touch God’s vast creation we touch the hem of his garment. We want to be renewed by the wonder of great deep things, and to feel like a child again. Yes, that’s it. We wade and dabble in the river of life and it makes us feel more alive.

My eyes trace the steps of a loving couple, their hands and arms around each other, laughing as they pass. Then the elbow kicks at my innards awakening the pain of an unseen life. Ouch! It is the life of my true love who has gone on ahead of me and now dips in the true ocean of life on the distant shores.

We used to be like that, I recall with a dreamy smile, watching them pass. We USED TO BE like that! Back when everything used to be “we” and I lived in a married world. A tear emerges from nowhere, crests like the waves rolling in before me, and rolls to the sand. My salt mingles with my salty surroundings. Oh Lord, we were so in love! But I’m not part of the we anymore.

I am like the solitary blue snail that I photographed today.

The people gradually fade into tiny blurs and voices drift away. They will have their dinners, put kids to bed, and find sweet solace in one another's arms. Ho hum.

The sky kaleidoscopes into oranges and pinks drawing my eyes heavenward once again. I took photos of the breathtaking sunset, trying to capture its golden brilliance. Even in its going down I am nearly blinded by its glory.

Oh God, I came to the ocean for renewed hope and perspective. I came for vision and strength. I came to feel a part, but was reminded of my losses. Yet just as the sun goes down every day I know it will return in full renewal. And though I now see only in part, one day my sight will be full.

No matter what jabs my soul or stirs its memories of pain and loss, help me to look ahead to a brighter day. Help me to wait in hope for the luscious and pleasing works you will display. Like a new day, you will arise with grace and healing in your wings.

I may be a blue snail right now. My feet are stuck in this course sand of earth. I can’t even see where I’m going and I don’t understand the plan, but I can hear the water afar off.

I wait for you, Lord God, and look forward to the Day when I will put off this little blue shell and be clothed in newness.


“Listen, I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed- in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed.

For the perishable must clothe itself with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality… then the saying that is written will come true: ‘Death has been swallowed up in victory.’"
1 Cor 15:51-54
NIV