After the fire

After The Fire

After the last paycheck is cashed and spent, after the nursery is emptied, along with your heart, after the door slams and silence bounces in your face, after the body is lowered into the grave, or the ashes are scattered, after the whirlwind, where do you turn?

vault with Mom's ashes
vault with Mom’s ashes

After “why” is no option.

After hope slips away.

After the fire has swept through.

What do you do?

Do you wonder what God is doing when precious, tender ones die young, and evil men grow old, their cruelty continuing for years.

So many questions with no answers.

Have you seen a forest after a fire? Charred trunks stand against bare, gray soil. No sound of bird or chipmunk.

Until spring rain.

Some of those trunks will push up new growth. And seeds freed by the heat of flames will sink roots deep into the earth and sprout another cycle of life in the forest.

But spring rain is so far away. And I am so tired.

Tired enough to finally let go. I can’t fix it. Can’t go back. Can’t change it. Can’t understand it.

At times like these, I feel like those bewildered disciples in the boat, rowing out at night at his command.

A terrific storm came up suddenly on the lake. Water poured in, and they were about to capsize. They woke Jesus: “Master, Master, we’re going to drown!”
Getting to his feet, he told the wind, “Silence!” and the waves, “Quiet down!” They did it. The lake became smooth as glass.
Then he said to his disciples, “Why can’t you trust me?”
They were in absolute awe, staggered and stammering, “Who is this, anyway? He calls out to the winds and sea, and they do what he tells them!” Luke 8: 24-25 The Message

Can I trust this God?

I had a strange dream, like those Biblical ones where God speaks to people too busy to listen when they are awake.

The dream started with a group of people in urgent prayer. I watched for a while, then God said, “Praying in the Spirit is not about tongues or emotions, will or words.” He waited for me to understand. When the urgency I’d felt as those people prayed lifted off my heart, he continued. “Praying in the Spirit is saying with everything in you, ‘Thy will be done.’”
Then we were standing by a dry creek bed in Idaho, in the desert at the foot of the mountains. God said, “When you fully surrender to my will, water will spring forth from the dry creek bed.”
Water bubbled up, clear and cool, flooded the rocks and flowed out into the desert.

How my dry heart needed that water.

Thy will be done.

Even if I don’t understand.

Thy will be done.

Even when it hurts.

Thy will be done.

“Before us there is nothing, but overhead there is God, and we have to trust Him.” Oswald Chambers, Not Knowing Where & Christian Disciplines, Discovery House Publishers

Yes. Once again, I choose to trust, because that is the only way I can go on living.

With hope.

And a future.

What, what would have become of me had I not believed that I would see the Lord’s goodness in the land of the living! Wait and hope for and expect the Lord; be brave and of good courage and let your heart be stout and enduring. Yes, wait for and hope for and expect the Lord. Psalm 27:13-14 Amplified Bible

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Free

Don’t we all wish to be free? Some wish to be free from financial hardship, sickness, mental or physical limitations. Some desire freedom from the noise and demands of modern life, from to-do-lists, ours or others. Some seek freedom from oppression or slavery, physical or mind or spirit. Some long for freedom from pain, grief and loss. From aching hearts and empty arms.

After we buried my mother’s ashes last month at the family plot, we visited another graveyard where my ancestors were buried several centuries ago.

Free tombstone
Free tombstone

On the row past the collection of Foards, I found some newer ones, and the one we’re all looking for, aren’t we?

I’ve circled around that image for weeks now, and finally decided that isn’t the kind of freedom I seek.

That Free is frozen in time.

I want to be free to live

to feel

to love.

We have a prayer at the end of our service that speaks powerfully to me, especially:
“Send us now into the world in peace, and grant us strength and courage to love and serve you with gladness and singleness of heart; through Christ our Lord. Amen” (The Book of Common Prayer)

For years, this has been the yearning of my heart. I felt like numerous people ran the show in my head, and few of my desires took action, due to my sense of weakness and fear.

Slowly, through the scrapes and bumps and loves and sweet touches of others, my heart has grown whole.

And from finally hearing the One who calls me out of the tomb, and responding.

Now, I speak those words with gusto and gratitude, thankful for the healing that has set me free to go forth with gladness and singleness of heart. Yippee!!! A single, whole heart!

And every time I dart back into a dark place, hide again in a little cave of confusion, fear or insecurity, I call myself forth. To remember who I am.

I am loved.

And I am free!

for a Woman of God
Identity Declaration by Beth Moore

I am a Woman of God!

Who are you?

In case you are curious if you could be included, go here to know what a woman of God looks like.

How long is your Saturday?

I’m not asking how much you can accomplish on your first day of the weekend. How many chores or ball games. How much work or play you can squeeze into your day off.  This Saturday is the dark space between Good Friday and Easter Sunday. Between death and new life. Between reality as you knew it but can never experience again, and life as it will be.

Saturday is the place of death, of tears and loss and emptiness. Where hope does not glimmer around the edges. Nothing is like you thought it would be. Everything has come to a standstill.

How do you live through that long Saturday?

How do you climb through to glistening morning dew, faces you don’t recognize, but quicken your heart? A life you never planned to live?

We don’t get there by pretending it’s not dark.

That life before Friday didn’t matter all that much.

That it doesn’t hurt now.

Hollering in the graveyard may make small boys feel brave, but it can’t wake the dead.

And it won’t wake us.

We must wait. Live in the Saturday. Even if that living is slow motion, muted, arduous.

caterpillar under leaf
caterpillar under leaf

Until the sun rises.

I know some who have taken up residence in their Saturday. That’s no place to dwell.  If that is you, please, take my hand and walk with me toward the sunrise.

Leave your chrysalis and stretch out your wings.

butterfly on flower
butterfly on flower

Wait for the deeper reality, flowing through and behind.

 

butterfly
butterfly
Monarch Butterfly
Monarch Butterfly
butterfly in flight
butterfly in flight

When the time is right, we will fly.

 

“I know what I’m doing. I have it all planned out—plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for. When you call on me, when you come and pray to me, I’ll listen. When you come looking for me, you’ll find me. Yes, when you get serious about finding me and want it more than anything else, I’ll make sure you won’t be disappointed.” God’s Decree.“I’ll turn things around for you. I’ll bring you back from all the countries into which I drove you”—God’s Decree—“bring you home to the place from which I sent you off into exile. You can count on it.” Jeremiah 29:11-14 The Message

 

 

All photos property of Jack H Thompson

Content of this blog is property of Jane Foard Thompson and may only be shared in its entirety, with attribution.