Jan. 25, 2015
This morning I went to church by
myself. Kelsey is reacting strongly to
the new medication and has been pretty sick the last couple of days. Even though she is 18 years old, one of us
still stays home with her when she isn’t feeling up to going to church. It isn’t that she can’t be by herself. We just know how much Kelsey likes to go to
church and it seems cold and heartless for both of us to walk out the door
essentially saying by our leaving, “See ya, wouldn’t want to be ya!” For us to leave and go where she really wants
to go but yet she can’t, just seems cruel.
Honestly, I’ve never talked to her about this and I doubt she would
really feel that way or receive it that way but it is how I feel in that
moment.
Going to church by myself has
always been difficult. I’m certainly not
alone once I get there. But somehow my
family going to church together serves as sort of a litmus test of how we are
doing. If we all go, all things are well
in the world. If one of us is missing,
there is an empty space that is felt.
And, if just one of us goes, well, it’s a difficult time. As I was driving to church, I was thinking,
“I’d give anything to take this illness from Kelsey.” Then my counselor training kicked in and I
thought, “Really? Anything?” You have to test the extreme and exaggerating
words. My answer was, “No, not
anything. I wouldn’t give up my
soul.” Trading my long-termed soul for a
short-termed illness makes no sense.
This life is short compared to eternity.
In church, I was emotional because my
litmus test was failing. But, just as God
would have it (because I don’t believe in coincidences), Russ preached exactly
what I needed to hear this morning. The
sermon text was Luke 9:57-10:3. In part
of it, he talked about how we have to love God more than anyone and anything. He said, “I can’t imagine my life without my
son. But I know I can’t survive without
God.” God has to be first. We have to make decisions based on knowing we
have an eternal life to think about and not just this short life on earth.
As I cried my way through church,
I began to realize the different emotions I was having. The first, of course, being what I’ve already
discussed. But I also realized I was
feeling comfort. I was feeling the comfort
of being in God’s ever-loving, ever-present arms. I know He sees me and my family. I know He knows my pain. And He knows just how to comfort me. El Roi (“The God who sees”) remains my
favorite name for God.
