Whispers of Thunder: A Life God Can Use
…it’s so quiet. My thoughts are audible. The silence is deafening. The stories of the day appear to parallel the existence of a mine striving for something far greater than himself. The ballot must be cast…willing to fight on or accept defeat. No matter the struggle, God has given us the choice. I find myself attempting the pseudo-answer and facing it’s ramifications days later. As a Christian man, taking up my cross daily isn’t a line-item on a Tuesday morning to-do list. Its a call to arms as I rise to start my day. A cross not carried is a couple of branches on the ground. As I drop to a knee in my life, as I fail to choose His strength over my ego, I miss ah-ha moments in my life’s highlight reel.
Today is the day set aside to give praise to a woman, who spends the other 364 days praises everyone else. To fully appreciate the scope of a mother’s role is severely hampered by the mere fact that only another mother can truly appreciate the magnitude of her new existence. And yet, to know the whole impact of a mother’s life on her children’s future is virtually impossible. In listing the greatest influences on a child’s character, his or her mom falls to third behind God Himself and His Word. And if mom is or can’t be there, God can supplement such love and devotion.
A little over seven years ago, Liz became mother of my first child. A year later, almost to the day, literally, she would do the same four more times. She has given way to pain and suffering to fully embrace a joy and contentment that only a child can bring. Liz is the mother of five life-blossoming children that have taken from her DNA a passion for life, its liberties, and God’s own pursuit of happiness. Liz’s impression upon her children is made known in her absence. Their hearts are coded to match her hugs, kisses, and “I love you’s.” These five angels wrapped in skin are not lucky nor has fate dealt them an exceptional hand. No, these children have been kissed by the lips of the creator of Love, the maker of emotional worship, and the sustainer of everlasting souls.
Being the mother of a sever year-old that desperately wants to be 10 or 16 and the mother of four six year-olds that are always in need of life hand-holding in some area is no simple chore. It will always be an unfinished task in the eyes of a father, but a repeating joy in the heart of a mom. Liz has fully engaged in what it means to give ones life to the well-being of her child or children. Though I may strive to get their attention, Liz will never need to work at such a moment. My children know their mother’s whisper and they live with their mother’s love. Mother’s Day is a day given to celebrate the life of a woman, who now gives nothing less than her all for the ones she gave life too.
And then, there’s my “mutter.” Saturday mornings at the soccer fields; going walking together for no other reason than to, well, walk; at 12 years old, holding my mom at the dining room table in Brazil as she cried out loud after she had received news that her brother had been murdered; missing her terribly when she would be gone for days at a time to an out-of-town doctor because she was so sick that no one locally could figure out why; panicking for her life when I watched her fall from the rock face on the side of creek-bed in the Smokey Mountains. And at 32 years-old, with life giving me its all…she reaches out, however she must, to let me know that I am on her mind, that I am being prayed for, and that she loves me. I am so much like my father, but I strive to love like my mother. The day my mother returns home to Heaven, two-hundred years from now (so that I don’t have to know life without her), the streets of gold will be meticulously cleaned, her room will be walled with sunshine and carpeted with clouds, and her crown, too heavy to be worn due to the collection of jewels, will sit in view of others with a placard reading, “I am pleased with whom this belongs.” -Father
One way to bless a man with a mother is two bless him with two. My mother-in-law knows and lives the definition of sacrifice. She has set her life to be an example of what it means to love the ones you have been entrusted with. I have seen her hurt and I have seen her beam with pride. She knows pain and yet shows so much love. Her laugh is infectious, her hugs are genuine, and her devotion is rarely seen. My mother-in-law knows when to share compassion and when to fight for what is right. Few have mastered care the way my Special K has. And even fewer are willing to do what it takes so that others may have, even if she is without. I love you.
Tonight, our family is not together. It is night number 19 that we have been apart. After spending another special day with Liz in the hospital, I later received a phone call from Liz saying she would not be coming home as hoped on Monday or Tuesday. Such a bittersweet day.
This afternoon, after church, the kids and I hoped in the car and ran a couple of places to get food and drinks for lunch. And then we headed South. We were moving on at a pretty good clip and then everything stopped. Due to road construction and everyone being forced into one lane, traffic was backed up for miles. We were so close, yet oh so far. I hit the GPS map and worked my way down some other roads and at about the time we were to cross a bridge,…”Road Closed.” Ok, so we quickly back-tracked and chose a different route. Eventually, we made it. The food was a bit cold, but nonetheless, we were all there, in one place, safe and sound, away from the world that tried to stop us from arriving where we needed to be.
This seems to be in step with what is going on with Liz and her stay at the hospital. She begins to get better and we begin to think that the time is nearing when she will be leaving, but then, another setback hits. This time, as has been the case in recent trips, the culprit is her blood. The problem is that she is and has been on 2 to 3 different medicines and they match up differently and their results are different when blood is drawn. It is a process that we have come to grasp, yet, become completely befuddled by. It is no longer about being unfair or even how truly exhausting it all is…but rather, what more can we do. I am no looking asking to receive an answer. I asking in truly looking for reasons to worship. Where are the victories? Why bother with the defeats when there are reasons to celebrate. If Jesus is to be my example and He can go from crying tears of blood to staying silent and taking His lashings then it stands to reason that I should be able, in His strength within me, to all the stress of life to stay with me and still choose to worship and be obedient.
And in such a task, if I work alone, I have already loss. But, in allowing others to come alongside me with their wider shoulders, their bigger hearts, and their sharing of Christ-like love, than success is already mine. And if such a victory has already been claimed for me, then it is my call whether to lock it away or use to be a brother and be there for another. The last two weeks have been full, bombarded, and heart-rocking. It is not longer good enough to live for God…it is time I love for Him.
I know not what this week holds for me. I will wake tomorrow and begin to walk path with less footprints than ever before. I will talk to people and deal with issues that are frustrating and irritating. I will have to make decisions regarding my kids, work, insurance and Liz’s care. I will have to talk to doctors, nurses, hospital staff, school staff, friends, family, co-workers, customers, and God. I may, at times, find myself swimming in the tub of self-doubt and defeat. But tomorrow is twenty-four hours long. I will not live tomorrow in the shadows or in the fetal position. Manning up in God’s offense is taking on a vision that includes me without promoting me. My plate is full before I have placed my order…but dessert is on the way.
Lastly, as I shut-up for the night, once again, I want to say thank you. Thank you for those that are, with a hands-on approach, doing what you can to be my floaties. God’s grace has come alive in you. His love has become more real through you. And I am closer to my God because of you. Thank you for showing this man what life’s purpose is all about…a purpose-filled faith.
“In the beginning…” -Genesis 1:1 (He had me in mind and knew how He was going to use me.)
