Castaway

Fellow Traveler,

My morning schedule included taking pictures at a local event for Hospice of San Joaquin. It was sunny and hot, so folks who weren’t sitting in the heat sought out what shade they could find around the center of the ceremony. Families and friends were there to remember those who had entered eternity while under hospice care. A prayer was voiced. Three staff members read the names of all who were being honored. A keyboard was used to offer a few lines of familiar hymns.

At the end of the memorial, those who had been given little packets of ‘awakened’ butterflies were asked to open them. In a few minutes, the Painted Ladies were loosed and flying away. Many of them didn’t fly far before landing close by, some finding a home on a hand, arm or leg. Smiles were replacing the tears as these colorful creations found their wings strengthened and soaring.

People deal with death in various ways. Grief, denial, guilt, anger, heartache, isolation, depression, acceptance, and hope intertwine in different measure as the realities of loss confront us. I think of Mary and Martha and Lazarus, a family whom Jesus loved and enjoyed. Lazarus was sick and then dies while Jesus is miles away ministering “beyond the Jordan.” Hearing that Lazarus was sick, Jesus purposely waits two days before going to Bethany. Lazarus had been dead four days before He got there. His reception was one of disappointment as both sisters said, “Lord, if You had been here, my brother would not have died.” Luke 11:21, 32. Their grief prompted Jesus to weep. But in a few moments all the despair and heartache would be replaced with rejoicing. The God of resurrection and life would soon raise poor Lazarus from the death and the grave. The glory of God would be manifested in the midst of the greatest of pain.

And where is God in OUR pain? Where is He when we are so distracted we can’t find Him? Heman the Ezrahite knew grief like this. “You have laid me in the lowest pit, in the darkness, in the depths . . . Lord, I have called daily upon You; I have stretched out my hands to You . . . Lord, why do You cast off my soul? Why do You hide Your face from me?” Psalm 88:6,9b,16. His prayer is a cry from the depths of despair. He has nowhere to turn but to his God and deliverer. In his affliction he continues to look up. He sees no help, but he knows his only source of help is the “God of my salvation.” Psalm 88:1a.

Lord, increase our faith in those times You seem so far away. May we rest and rejoice in the strength of Your promises and counsel. May we be able to say with shepherd David, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.” Psalm 23:4.

Old Davy