Strange Place for a Song of Thanks

When my father passed away in 1986, we knew it was coming. Dad had been struggling with the pain of pancreatic cancer far too long. The initial sense of relief, knowing he was finally free from his suffering and home with Jesus, was probably what enabled my sister Shanon and me to sing a duet at his funeral. He and Mom had chosen the song ahead of time, and Sis and I had begun practicing even before Dad left us. We deeply wanted to honor him in this way, and we reached the end of the hymn without tears.

Friends and relatives remarked about the strength we displayed that day. I can’t speak for my sister, but in the weeks that followed, I could not have repeated it for the world. I couldn’t even sing from the congregation on Sunday morning, too deep in grief, anger, and disappointment. I’d sit at my piano and try to sing through the song we’d shared with such confidence, only to choke before the second verse.

One line mocked me every time: “Thanks for what thou dost deny.” 

That’s old English for “thanks for nothing.” Or at least that’s how it felt in my loss. We’d prayed and begged God to heal Dad, but our pleas had been denied. How could I carry on without my daddy? I wanted our children to know him the way I had—healthy and fun. Now another little one was on the way who wouldn’t get to meet him at all.

I don’t believe time heals all wounds. If it did, we’d see a lot fewer wounded people walking around. I think God heals all wounds…over time…when we take them to him. Countless joys and sorrows have passed through my life in the 35 years my father’s been gone. And certainly, these past two years have left us all reeling, haven’t they? Another Thanksgiving season is upon us. Are you finding it hard to feel grateful?

I’ve matured enough to know it’s possible to give thanks, “even when.” Even when I don’t feel like it, even when I’m afraid or angry or disappointed, even when circumstances look grim.

The old hymn Shanon and I shared that day is called simply, Thanks to God, written by August Ludvig Storm (1862-1914) and translated from Swedish by Carl E. Backstrom. Stricken with a serious back disorder, Storm nevertheless penned these words of thanks. I’m so glad the song has been around long enough to be in public domain because that frees me to share the lyrics with you here. I hope they bless you. Happy Thanksgiving!

Thanks to God for my Redeemer,

Thanks for all Thou dost provide.
Thanks for times now but a memory,
Thanks for Jesus by my side!
Thanks for pleasant, balmy springtime,
Thanks for dark and stormy fall.
Thanks for tears by now forgotten,
Thanks for peace within my soul!

Thanks for prayers that Thou hast answered,
Thanks for what Thou dost deny.
Thanks for storms that I have weathered,
Thanks for all Thou dost supply.
Thanks for pain, and thanks for pleasure,
Thanks for comfort in despair.
Thanks for grace that none can measure,
Thanks for love beyond compare!

Thanks for roses by the wayside,
Thanks for thorns their stems contain.
Thanks for home and thanks for fireside,
Thanks for hope, that sweet refrain.
Thanks for joy and thanks for sorrow,
Thanks for tears that bring release.

Thanks for hope in the tomorrow,
Thanks for everlasting peace.

“Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus. (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18.)

For Grads and Those Who Love Them

Occasionally, I am delusional enough to think there might be an eighteen-year-old somewhere who reads my blog. If that’s you, chances are you will graduate from high school shortly. Perhaps you’ve figured out your next step or perhaps you’re still as undecided as you felt at the beginning of the school year. You’re tired of people asking what you’re planning to do with your life. So many options lie before you, and with each choice you make, you eliminate others. It’s a confusing time.

I love this Winnie the Pooh poem by Benjamin Hoff:

How can you get very far

If you don’t know Who You Are?

How can you do what you ought,

If you don’t know What You’ve Got?

And if you don’t know Which to Do

Of all the things in front of you,

Then what you’ll have when you are through

Is just a mess without a clue

[But] All the best can come true

If you know What and Which and Who.

I cannot provide you with the “what” or the “which.” But I’d love to point you to the WHO, because when you know the answer to the “who,” you’ll be guided to the what and the which. (Also the where, when, and why!) Your creator loves you and knows you and wants you to succeed at fulfilling your purpose. God can be trusted. He will never leave you. He’s promised that. Seek him with all your heart and let him guide you, one day at a time.

In Joshua 1:9, God said “Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” He is for you. He is rooting for you.

Maybe your graduation happened decades ago and now you’re watching your fledgling leave the nest. Life is showing you how nothing stays the same and it’s hard. Really hard. I know. I went through it three times.

I once heard a preacher say, “at any given time, you’re either in a valley or you’re coming out of a valley, or you’re about to enter a new valley.”

It’s the nature of life on this earth. But I’ve learned that amid all of life’s changes, we have a God who never does. Malachi 3:6 says “I, the Lord, do not change...”

The beauty of walking with God through all these hills and valleys is that we never stop growing. He wants you to grow through every season of change. So here are three questions you can ask yourself as you enter a new season.

·       What is it time to let go of? Mourn your losses. It’s okay to grieve.

·       What am I learning? Write it down! Don’t waste this season or this heartache by refusing to grow.

·       Who am I trusting? Remember that God is for you.

All of us will experience times of endings and beginnings. If you are in a season of transition, can I encourage you? You may not see the road map. You may not have any picture of what your future holds, but you can choose to trust the heart of our God. He says, “Do not let your heart be troubled. Trust in God. Trust also in me.”

He’s with you. You don’t need to be afraid.

Remembering Shane

When I was ten years old, my big sister and her husband presented Mom and Dad with their first grandchild and my grandparents with their first great-grandchild, a little boy named Shane. Well, maybe not so little at well over ten pounds.

While we waited for him and his mother to be released from the hospital, Apollo 11 landed on the moon and Neil Armstrong took his famous first step on its surface. I remember gazing up at the moon, fascinated to think there were people up there taking one giant leap for mankind. Still, the news paled in comparison to the new life that had been added to our family. I couldn’t wait to meet my nephew!

While all children are precious, a first grandchild holds a special place in a family’s heart. I thought he was the best thing since macaroni and cheese, and visited every chance I got. When my parents took a trip to the east coast and I got to stay at my sister’s to “help” care for Shane, I didn’t mind missing out on the road trip one bit. 

That Christmas, Shane was showered with presents as each aunt, uncle, grandparent, and great-grandparent picked out something special for him. My gift was a bright orange inflatable Pluto dog—chosen no doubt because I liked it myself! All that gift-giving gradually dwindled of necessity as 13 more grandchildren eventually joined the family. Shane never knew how good he had it! But then again, he grew up to be an especially generous gift-giver himself, so who knows?

We never dreamed that 46 years later, we would find ourselves again gathering as a family around Shane—along with his wife and two sons—to express our love in a completely different way as he fought a swift and aggressive last battle this past November. You will rarely hear me swear, but I believe there are a few appropriate uses for the word “damn.” One of those is cancer. With aching hearts, our family assembled to ease Shane’s suffering in any way we could and to usher him from this life into the next with goodbyes and prayers and songs and hugs and tears; and then to bury his last remains, celebrate his life, and try to comfort the many broken hearts he left behind.

How is it that death is our only certainty, and yet the pain of it runs deeper than any other? If death is such an inevitable part of life, shouldn’t it be easier? 

Could it be because we were designed to live forever? God’s original plan was not for us to die. Parents aren’t supposed to bury their children. Teenagers aren’t supposed to bury their dad. Grandmothers aren’t supposed to suffer the multiplied pain of losing a grandchild while also seeing their own child grieving. There’s really nothing “natural” about it.

And living forever would have been wonderful if this planet had retained its original design, too. Adam and Eve were created immortal. But once sin entered our world through their disobedience, immortality here would have been unbearable. Can you imagine? While there are many enjoyable things in this life to appreciate, let’s face it. Does anyone really want to live forever with the inevitable aches and pains, the suffering and destruction we see around us, with no relief in sight? 

God in his mercy has spared us that. In a sense, death became a blessing. It allows us to complete our journey here and move on to what we were originally created for. Why it sometimes comes “too soon” in our human opinions will remain a mystery, but in I Corinthians 15, Paul explains it far better than I ever could and I encourage you to check it out for yourself. Bottom line? “Just as everyone dies because we all belong to Adam, everyone who belongs to Christ will be given new life.” (Verse 22) 

Death sucks, there’s no getting around it. We need to grieve, there’s no getting around that either. But joy comes when we remember the final battle has already been won; the last enemy already defeated. In Revelation 3, John tells us “…God himself will be with them.  He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever.”

I can live with that. And so can you. 

Forever.