When hardship comes your way, will you tell yourself it’s a tool of God’s grace and a sign of his love, or will you give in to doubting his goodness? Paul Tripp
Photo by James Wheeler
When the road seems shorter than before.
Wherever you turn there is no open door.
Your life is in convulsions like vomit on the floor.
All the paperwork of your life is yellowed and rotted.
She walks like a warrior, straight-backed and crown high. Yet, humble.
Her avian eyes propel with the speed of light. Yet, no guile is found in her.
Her strong and steady hands caress a heated brow or wield a sword.
She walks like a warrior. Her sword discreetly at her side.
She is wise and does not invite chaos into her life.
She equips herself with helmet and shield, both righteous and redemptive.
She walks like a warrior. She is keenly aware of the night.
She nimbly opens the lantern that guides her path.
She walks with a quiet understanding of how this goes. Yet, she delights in Hope.
And every day she wakes and walks like a warrior.
Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might. Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness…
My friend is dying. We have been the truest of friends over fifty years. My smart, (I am talking qualifies for Mensa smart), funny, and oh so beautiful friend. We do not speak of dying much. We have long since beaten that “dead horse” (pun intended) a while ago. The buckets of tears, prayers, questions, meeting new Doctors, holding it together for family members…yes, we do all of that together because we must.
My friend is not a person who wants or needs attention. In fact, she is always calling to check on me! She is navigating the cruelest road I can imagine, and I have seen my share of people dying due to my career. My Friend and I talk about how Death is hideous in any form. This does not mean my friend is always perfect or even doing okay because this disease is as cruel as any out there. There are days when she cannot speak or move. There are days she will not stop talking. There are days she cries all day long and other days where she is watching Netflix and stuffs her face with pizza…
We see each other as much as possible or speak on the phone. Every time we part, she says, “remember and Hold on for one more day.” Recently I asked her to explain , and she said, “do you ever enjoy something so much like Christmas morning, or going to your child’s first school play, or your wedding day (or divorce day), or even being with someone when they die but when that day or event is over you know you won’t feel that again for another year or maybe ever?” She looked at me with her spring-green eyes and said, “We, all of us, every single human, are Trusted by the God who made us with remembering those sparks that make life such a treasure. So, we string those bits and glimpses of human treasures together like rare pearls and wear them near our heart. We must remember what love is, remember the sensation of sun on our face, or salt water on our lips. Remember our lover’s breath in our ear and our baby’s smell, and all the while we know that the next day everything will not be like it was on THIS day! So, when I say Remember and hold on for one more day, I am just saying tomorrow could bring a moment of sweetness, ecstatic happiness, or smooth Joy or a sunset in colors never seen before. Tomorrow could gift us a happening, an event, a feeling, a treasure that we never had before…so I just keep remembering and hold on for one more day. When I die, I will be wearing those pearls.”
“Again, the Kingdom of Heaven is like a merchant seeking beautiful pearls, who, when he had found one pearl of great price, went and sold all that he had and bought it.” Matthew 13:45-46
But, as it is written, “What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined, what God has prepared for those who love him”— 2Corinthians 2:9
Jill Autrey Dorman 