Hope for Tomorrow
Well, my friends, another year is almost under the belt. It's been a long one, and yet an all-too short one at the same time. It seems like only yesterday that I was drinking a toast to the year 2004 by clinking together two cans of Mountain Dew in my room as the crystal ball in Times Square descended. Okay, so I'm not a party animal, get over it. Anyway, like everyone else, I nurtured high hopes that the coming year would be happy and pleasant.
So, as we count down the final waning hours of 2004, were my hopes fulfilled? Well ... yes and no.
I'll deal with the latter half first. More than any other year of my life, 2004 stands out to me as the year of death. It began early in January when my grandfather passed away from a form of pancreatic cancer. He battled it for six weeks, but his condition wasn't diagnosed until it was too late to help him. Cancer of the pancreas is a real killer and it strikes quickly. Even when treated promptly, once the tumors have a chance to spread rapidly in the bloodstream, a person's condition can deteriorate dramatically. That's what happened with him.
Oh Lord, it nearly killed me to see him like that. He'd always been a man of great character and stature that I had looked up to for all of my childhood and beyond. His sagacity, witticisms, and most of all, his love of the Lord were the characteristics I adored most about him. To see him bedridden, his body wasting away little by little, his memory failing him, groaning in agonizing pain in the room of his house...it was nearly more than I could stand. As I said, it was too late to fight off the disease, so all we could do was make him as comfortable as we possibly could. I can remember my dad, my two uncles and myself setting up a big-screen television set and DVD player at the foot of his bed so he could watch all of his favorite classic movies. Helping him sit up in the bed we had leveled to a more comfortable position so we could give him a shave. The multiple times over the next month that I came over from Furman after classes let out to check on him and talk with my relatives. Bless them, they were over there practically every day keeping my grandmother's house neat and orderly, running errands around town, shopping for food and supplies, coordinating gifts and funeral arrangements, etc. It was so terribly saddening to see him get progressively worse, and when my aunt from Due West called me and asked if I would be a pall bearer at the burial service in York, I knew then that it was the end.
And yet, it wasn't the end. For my grandfather, as a firm believer in Christ Jesus as his Lord and Savior, it was nothing short of a new beginning. Early Wednesday morning, January 28th, he passed away quietly in that bed. His loved ones, wife, sons, daughters and grandchildren (most of them) were there at his side when he died. I didn't learn the news until about 1:30 that afternoon from Woody O'Cain after Political Science class was over. Woody is a close friend of our family, and his inside expertise was instrumental in helping me to enroll at Furman. He stopped by Johns' Hall and gave me the news. After he told me, I didn't break up emotionally. I didn't cry. I didn't get angry or depressed. I just stood there and took it in, and by the grace of God I held my composure. At once, I had to get in touch with my family. My mother was a bit freaked that I had found out before she'd been able to get in touch with me, obviously unsure of how I'd take the news from someone outside of close family. But I assured her that I was fine, did what I could to console her in the brief time we had to talk, and as soon as I could get away from a prior commitment I had made for the next hour, I drove straight to Pendleton. Practically everyone was already there, upstairs in the kitchen with my grandmother. I will never forget that night. We stayed over for hours into the early morning, sitting around and just talking, running the full gamut of emotions. That time was immensely theraputic. I felt like I grew closer to my aunts, uncles and cousins than ever before. We were united in the common bond of having lost a loved one, yet our period of grief was balanced by a feeling of hope.
It wasn't the end, death. It was a new beginning. Yes, we were terribly saddened that the man we loved dearly was no longer with us, but at the same time, we were happy because we knew exactly where he had gone. He was, and still is and forever will be, basking in the glory of God's Kingdom, a place beyond all suffering and sin. He wasn't hurting anymore, no longer bound by the frailties and sickness of his earthly body. He had gone to be with the Lord, and because of that, we grieved with hope in our hearts because we knew that we'd see him there some day, when our time came. His lifelong faith in Christ had earned him the reward of eternal life in Heaven, as will be so for all who believe in Him. He alone is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. And my grandfather believed.
In that sense, the good and the bad of 2004 are interconnected. We hope at the outset that the new year is alive with promises of good fortune and positive events. But the fact is, it just doesn't happen that way all the time or whenever we wish it. God blesses us with rewards and benefits, true, but even as believers we are not exempt from the trials and tribulations of daily life. Those things are inevitable and they will happen whether we're ready for them or not. The fact is, times such as these are the real tests of faith in life. They are how God measures our belief to see if it's strong enough to endure the test, and either emerge strengthened or wither away to nothing. I feel that my relationship with Christ grew stronger as a result of the hard times I encountered this year. More than ever, I realized that my own efforts were an exercise in futility, and I felt the need to depend on Him every day for guidance and wisdom, and as a result, my faith was further enhanced as I observed the wonders that He worked in the numerous and yet simplest ways all around me.
I saw my family steadily heal from the pain of loss. I felt myself putting the grief behind me and pushing on with my college life, rebounding from a winter term slump to finish spring semester on the Dean's List. I saw the relationship between my sister and me redefine itself over the summer as we grew closer together. I found renewed confidence in my dreams to teach by participating in Vacation Bible School as a music teacher for the Rickshaw Rally. I felt a new sense of maturity and growth in moving away from home for the first time to live at Furman, with the opportunity to put everything my parents had taught me to the test. I learned to refine my work ethic and study habits in my new environment, as I was no longer surrounded by the comforts and familiarity of home. I took real, tangible steps toward emerging from my comfort zone by joining the Drama and Praise Band associated with Baptist Collegiate Ministries, and finding a family group to engage in a weekly study of the Bible. I formed new bonds with wonderful, godly Christians. Amanda, Ashley, Will, Stephanie, Alan, Chibuzo, Lucy, Rodney, Zack, Elloa ... I can't possibly name you all, but I treasure the relationships we've established this year. I received a stark reminder of God's healing power from my Sanctuary Choir in the aftermath of my mother's appendectomy. It's so wonderful to have a circle of friends to lift you up when your faith slips up now and then.
The real lesson I would take in regard to 2005? Hope for the best, certainly, but be prepared to face the worst. Bad times will come, tests of faith will come. Not all of them will be simple, and some will require a search of the soul. However, the best part about it is: we're not alone. We have Christ on our side. Point of Grace says it best.
"You will never walk alone,
As long as you have faith,
Jesus will be right beside you all the way.
And you, you feel you're far from home,
But home is where He is,
He'll be there down every road,
You will never walk alone."
Oh Lord Jesus, I ask that You fill my heart with the kind of spiritual hope that only You can provide. Don't let me look to the world for answers to life's questions. Don't let me look to the world's influences for help in times of crisis. But let me instead turn my eyes to You, Oh Lord, because You are the only One who truly has all the answers. I thank You for all of Your blessings, and I ask that You help me to keep an attitude of humility and gratitude about them. Help me to be a model of Your hope and love to others, and to effectively bear witness to the good news of You for those who desperately need it. Lord, as this year draws to an end, help me, and help all of us, to remember that this is another year of our time on Earth gone. Your day is coming, Lord, and my only desire is to be ready and willing to embrace You when that day arrives. Fill us with hope for tomorrow, and a passion to live out the rest of our days as servants in the light of Your love. In Christ Jesus' name I pray, amen.
Song of the Day: FFH - "Ready to Fly"
Verse of the Day: "And do this, understanding the present time. The hour has come for you to wake up from your slumber, because our salvation is nearer now than when we first believed. The night is nearly over; the day is almost here. So let us put aside the deeds of darkness and put on the armor of light. Let us behave decently, as in the daytime, not in orgies or drunkenness, not in sexual immorality and debauchery, not in dissension and jealousy. Rather, clothe yourselves with the Lord Jesus Christ, and do not think about how to gratify the desires of the sinful nature." - Romans 13:11-14
So, as we count down the final waning hours of 2004, were my hopes fulfilled? Well ... yes and no.
I'll deal with the latter half first. More than any other year of my life, 2004 stands out to me as the year of death. It began early in January when my grandfather passed away from a form of pancreatic cancer. He battled it for six weeks, but his condition wasn't diagnosed until it was too late to help him. Cancer of the pancreas is a real killer and it strikes quickly. Even when treated promptly, once the tumors have a chance to spread rapidly in the bloodstream, a person's condition can deteriorate dramatically. That's what happened with him.
Oh Lord, it nearly killed me to see him like that. He'd always been a man of great character and stature that I had looked up to for all of my childhood and beyond. His sagacity, witticisms, and most of all, his love of the Lord were the characteristics I adored most about him. To see him bedridden, his body wasting away little by little, his memory failing him, groaning in agonizing pain in the room of his house...it was nearly more than I could stand. As I said, it was too late to fight off the disease, so all we could do was make him as comfortable as we possibly could. I can remember my dad, my two uncles and myself setting up a big-screen television set and DVD player at the foot of his bed so he could watch all of his favorite classic movies. Helping him sit up in the bed we had leveled to a more comfortable position so we could give him a shave. The multiple times over the next month that I came over from Furman after classes let out to check on him and talk with my relatives. Bless them, they were over there practically every day keeping my grandmother's house neat and orderly, running errands around town, shopping for food and supplies, coordinating gifts and funeral arrangements, etc. It was so terribly saddening to see him get progressively worse, and when my aunt from Due West called me and asked if I would be a pall bearer at the burial service in York, I knew then that it was the end.
And yet, it wasn't the end. For my grandfather, as a firm believer in Christ Jesus as his Lord and Savior, it was nothing short of a new beginning. Early Wednesday morning, January 28th, he passed away quietly in that bed. His loved ones, wife, sons, daughters and grandchildren (most of them) were there at his side when he died. I didn't learn the news until about 1:30 that afternoon from Woody O'Cain after Political Science class was over. Woody is a close friend of our family, and his inside expertise was instrumental in helping me to enroll at Furman. He stopped by Johns' Hall and gave me the news. After he told me, I didn't break up emotionally. I didn't cry. I didn't get angry or depressed. I just stood there and took it in, and by the grace of God I held my composure. At once, I had to get in touch with my family. My mother was a bit freaked that I had found out before she'd been able to get in touch with me, obviously unsure of how I'd take the news from someone outside of close family. But I assured her that I was fine, did what I could to console her in the brief time we had to talk, and as soon as I could get away from a prior commitment I had made for the next hour, I drove straight to Pendleton. Practically everyone was already there, upstairs in the kitchen with my grandmother. I will never forget that night. We stayed over for hours into the early morning, sitting around and just talking, running the full gamut of emotions. That time was immensely theraputic. I felt like I grew closer to my aunts, uncles and cousins than ever before. We were united in the common bond of having lost a loved one, yet our period of grief was balanced by a feeling of hope.
It wasn't the end, death. It was a new beginning. Yes, we were terribly saddened that the man we loved dearly was no longer with us, but at the same time, we were happy because we knew exactly where he had gone. He was, and still is and forever will be, basking in the glory of God's Kingdom, a place beyond all suffering and sin. He wasn't hurting anymore, no longer bound by the frailties and sickness of his earthly body. He had gone to be with the Lord, and because of that, we grieved with hope in our hearts because we knew that we'd see him there some day, when our time came. His lifelong faith in Christ had earned him the reward of eternal life in Heaven, as will be so for all who believe in Him. He alone is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. And my grandfather believed.
In that sense, the good and the bad of 2004 are interconnected. We hope at the outset that the new year is alive with promises of good fortune and positive events. But the fact is, it just doesn't happen that way all the time or whenever we wish it. God blesses us with rewards and benefits, true, but even as believers we are not exempt from the trials and tribulations of daily life. Those things are inevitable and they will happen whether we're ready for them or not. The fact is, times such as these are the real tests of faith in life. They are how God measures our belief to see if it's strong enough to endure the test, and either emerge strengthened or wither away to nothing. I feel that my relationship with Christ grew stronger as a result of the hard times I encountered this year. More than ever, I realized that my own efforts were an exercise in futility, and I felt the need to depend on Him every day for guidance and wisdom, and as a result, my faith was further enhanced as I observed the wonders that He worked in the numerous and yet simplest ways all around me.
I saw my family steadily heal from the pain of loss. I felt myself putting the grief behind me and pushing on with my college life, rebounding from a winter term slump to finish spring semester on the Dean's List. I saw the relationship between my sister and me redefine itself over the summer as we grew closer together. I found renewed confidence in my dreams to teach by participating in Vacation Bible School as a music teacher for the Rickshaw Rally. I felt a new sense of maturity and growth in moving away from home for the first time to live at Furman, with the opportunity to put everything my parents had taught me to the test. I learned to refine my work ethic and study habits in my new environment, as I was no longer surrounded by the comforts and familiarity of home. I took real, tangible steps toward emerging from my comfort zone by joining the Drama and Praise Band associated with Baptist Collegiate Ministries, and finding a family group to engage in a weekly study of the Bible. I formed new bonds with wonderful, godly Christians. Amanda, Ashley, Will, Stephanie, Alan, Chibuzo, Lucy, Rodney, Zack, Elloa ... I can't possibly name you all, but I treasure the relationships we've established this year. I received a stark reminder of God's healing power from my Sanctuary Choir in the aftermath of my mother's appendectomy. It's so wonderful to have a circle of friends to lift you up when your faith slips up now and then.
The real lesson I would take in regard to 2005? Hope for the best, certainly, but be prepared to face the worst. Bad times will come, tests of faith will come. Not all of them will be simple, and some will require a search of the soul. However, the best part about it is: we're not alone. We have Christ on our side. Point of Grace says it best.
"You will never walk alone,
As long as you have faith,
Jesus will be right beside you all the way.
And you, you feel you're far from home,
But home is where He is,
He'll be there down every road,
You will never walk alone."
Oh Lord Jesus, I ask that You fill my heart with the kind of spiritual hope that only You can provide. Don't let me look to the world for answers to life's questions. Don't let me look to the world's influences for help in times of crisis. But let me instead turn my eyes to You, Oh Lord, because You are the only One who truly has all the answers. I thank You for all of Your blessings, and I ask that You help me to keep an attitude of humility and gratitude about them. Help me to be a model of Your hope and love to others, and to effectively bear witness to the good news of You for those who desperately need it. Lord, as this year draws to an end, help me, and help all of us, to remember that this is another year of our time on Earth gone. Your day is coming, Lord, and my only desire is to be ready and willing to embrace You when that day arrives. Fill us with hope for tomorrow, and a passion to live out the rest of our days as servants in the light of Your love. In Christ Jesus' name I pray, amen.
Song of the Day: FFH - "Ready to Fly"
Verse of the Day: "And do this, understanding the present time. The hour has come for you to wake up from your slumber, because our salvation is nearer now than when we first believed. The night is nearly over; the day is almost here. So let us put aside the deeds of darkness and put on the armor of light. Let us behave decently, as in the daytime, not in orgies or drunkenness, not in sexual immorality and debauchery, not in dissension and jealousy. Rather, clothe yourselves with the Lord Jesus Christ, and do not think about how to gratify the desires of the sinful nature." - Romans 13:11-14
posted by david @ 4:08 PM
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