The Essence of Heaven

"That was a bit of Heaven." "That was Heaven on earth."  Have you heard these phrases before?  I have, and they are usually associated with something beautiful, delightful and enjoyable; something that pleased us.  I suppose that is because of what we read in Revelations 21:4  "He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” That sounds so peaceful and beautiful doesn't it?

Perhaps we are short sited in this perspective.  When I think of Heaven I think of being in the presence of my Savior continually; the constant presence of the one who formed me, knew me and walked beside me on my journey called "life".  Ahhh, Heaven.  And yet, I think I've been experiencing part of the beauty of Heaven while I've been on my journey down here on earth as well. 

As I have been learning to abide in Him and lay both the good and the bad at his feet, I have experienced a deep love and covering.  This allows me to be in the midst of trials and sorrow and still experience his peace and beauty as if I were in the midst of something wonderful.  I haven't always felt this way. 

For most of my years I held Heaven off as a destination I would get to when my time on earth was finished. I knew that I believed in him and would obtain that eternal presence with him when my time came.   

John 3:16 "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life." 

I knew I would see the kingdom of God one day.

John 3:3 "Jesus answered him, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God.”  

But I really didn't spend a lot of time thinking about it.  Heaven was a destination I felt confident about because of my choice to receive Christ as my Savior but wasn't a part of my every day life.

And then Ryan died and Heaven reached down and touched my soul.  I felt linked to it in a very personal way.  Others I knew had died and I imagined them in heaven, but this was my son, someone who was formed in my womb was now experiencing Heaven. The things we had taught him to hope for by choosing Jesus Christ to be part of his life were his reality.  His time had come.

This event would be the beginning of my understanding of what it would mean to keep my eyes lifted up to the heavens and in doing so, experience the essence of heaven while still here on earth.  The depth of my faith and trust in God through this event is what lead me to this place; much like Abraham.

In Genesis 22 God asks Abraham to take his son, his only son, to the mountains and sacrifice him as a burnt offering.  YIKES!  What kind of a God does that?  But read on. 

Abraham gets up early the next morning  and loads up his donkey with all that is needed for the event and then three days later packs up his son and tells people they are leaving to worship and then they would be back.  WOW!  What trust in the Lord.  He was immediately obedient and in that obedience trusted God for the outcome.

We then read further that Abraham went through all the actions of being willing to sacrifice his son, his only son, and then just as he was raising his hand with a knife God called down, "Abraham! Abraham!"  and Abraham says, "Here I am!"  I can imagine Abraham screamed that with tearful eyes of anticipation.  And God said, "Abraham, do not lay a hand on that boy.  Now I know you fear God because you have not withheld from me your son, your only son."  And Abraham looked up and saw a ram caught up in the thicket. He went over and took the lamb and sacrificed it in place of his son.

And the Lord said, "...because you have done this and have not withheld your son, your only son, I promise I will bless you with everything I have -- bless and bless and bless!  God can't and doesn't break his word.  He is sinless.  His word and promises are unchangeable. Abraham received everything God promised him.

As I read this account I can't help but think how I didn't have to choose Ryan's death, I didn't get that option.  My option became whether I would put my son's death on the alter and trust God with it.  Or, would I become bitter and angry and tell God he had to be wrong, this couldn't be right?

Every day we have opportunity to put things on the alter; marriages, relationships, illnesses, miscarriages, jobs, situations, catastrophic events, etc.  How often do we hold those things in our hands and refuse to put them on the alter because we think we must know better than God.  He couldn't possibly know what he is doing in this regard, not if it means we experience pain and suffering!?

I'm going to argue that we can put anything and everything on that alter and trust him with the outcome.  We don't need to argue and cajole and manipulate and stomp our feet in anger. We can lay it there and "rest".  As we learn to do this and trust God for the outcome we too, like Abraham, can receive that peace, peace and more peace and experience that essence of Heaven that only God can provide.

I have been learning to do this; laying it all on the alter.  When I have chosen to do this I have found that piece of Heaven in my every day life.  I have experienced Heaven on earth, that peace of having the constant presence of my Savior right by my side.

I will continue to purpose to do this until that time when I will enter the gates of Heaven and experience no more tears or death or mourning or crying or pain and the former things will have passed away. I will see my son and all those who have gone before me and walk beside my Savior.

I'm reminded of a chorus we used to sing as kids.

 

Heaven is a wonderful place.

Filled with glory and grace.

I want to see my Savior's face.

Heaven is a wonderful place. 

(I want to go there).

Behind closed doors

 
Spring is here and my neighbors and I are finding ourselves outdoors more.  The other day I was washing my car and one of my neighbors, whom I have only waved to throughout the winter months, stopped by and we had an opportunity to catch up.  As we caught each other up on our lives we both realized how much goes on behind closed doors that we can be so oblivious to.

We see a pretty house, we see pretty people walking in and out of the house with pretty smiles, and we assume all is o.k.  I wonder if we went around our neighborhood and knocked on the doors and said, "Hey, I'm just wondering, do you guys have struggles too?"  I'm pretty sure we would get an earful of struggles that even the most perfect looking families deal with on a daily basis; yet we all pretend life is beautiful and perfect.


I actually count myself blessed that we decided to put a memorial garden for Ryan in our front yard.  I've had neighbors say, "When I walk passed I see your cross and I'm reminded to pray for your family."  Isn't that just lovely?  They know that specific struggle and they choose to carry our burden to the Lord for us.


My family is a walking example of how prayers have mounted up and impacted our lives.  This got me to thinking.....

What if we all had a cross in our front yard that displayed our struggles? I'm sure instantly, many are thinking, "NO WAY! I could never expose myself that way."

But think about it.   How wonderful would it be to have people walk passed our homes and know just exactly how to lift us up to the Lord.  The sense of connectedness would be amazing as we walked passed one another's homes and saw that others carry burdens too, perhaps even our same burden; we are not alone.  It would be amazing to be aware that each one of us is on the same journey of working through our struggles and getting to that other side to find joy.  And, it would be transforming to know how to pray for one another. 

I know, I live in a dream world.  But I wonder, what would be on your cross?

 

We live such isolated lives.  We think we are being strong by keeping our burdens to ourselves and not bothering anyone with them.  Well I think that is a bunch of hooey!! 

There is beauty in sharing each other's burdens.  The burden becomes lighter as we allow others to carry a piece of it with us.  As we bring the burden into the light the grip of darkness is removed and light has the ability to shine into it, producing beauty from ashes.

I am continually reminded how much we need each other. 

I Corinthians 12:7

A spiritual gift is given to each of us so we can help each other. 

If God thought we could make it on our own he would have given each of us all gifts necessary to exist on our own; but that is not what he did.  He gave each of us our own gifts, designing us to be in fellowship with one another, ministering to each other with what is needed.

When we remain isolated, we rob others of our gifts and of the opportunity for others to minister to us.

I'm going to take some action on this thought process.  I care about my neighbors and believe my family moved to this neighborhood for a reason; it wasn't a coincidence.  None of my life is a coincidence.

I'm going to talk with a couple other neighbors, whom I know have a heart for our neighbors as well, and see if we can't host a monthly potluck.  This is not so that we can get up in everyone's business, but so that our neighbors know that they are not alone behind their closed doors. There are people who care deeply about them and want to share the joys and the sorrows, the good and the bad.

The Wahl door will remain opened.


 

The trajectory of my life

April 7, 2012.  Two years...how can that be?  I remember so vividly those first moments, hours, days filled with pain, sorrow, shock and anguish.   The impact of that day becomes a faded memory in the minds of most others but in my mind, the mother's mind, I can vividly recall those moments in an instant. My mind does not retain a lot of things, but it remembers those moments that changed the trajectory of my life forever.

But wait; did those moments really change the trajectory of my life?  Perhaps they changed where I thought I was headed but I do not believe they changed where God intended.

I have spent the last two years watching, waiting and listening for ways that my sorrow could be worth the pain.  I have been asking God to show me how He was going to make good from what appeared to be the darkest moments of my life; the death of my 20 year old son Ryan.

God has been found faithful; he has been answering me one step at a time.

The LORD makes firm the steps of the one who delights in him;  Psalm 37:23

The last two years have been far from easy; they have been filled with tears, and anguish and struggle.  It still can seem like a dream, like it didn't happen and he's just gone on a trip.  But then I feel that weight in my heart and I know it is true; he'll never walk through that front door again with that twinkle in his eyes and a skip in his step thinking up some adventure.  But honestly, the pain isn't as constant as it used to be. 

Life is a forward motion and I have been pulled along with it, leaving the deepest parts of my pain behind as I take each new step.  In that forward motion, as I offer my pain to God, it has become less of an albatross and more of a message of hope. The hope that, God is in my moments.

The mind of man plans his way, But the LORD directs his steps. Proverbs 16:9

I praise God for that every day.

I have not tried to rush through the grief, but rather, experience it, step through it and not get stuck.  I have purposed to stay on God's trajectory and not my own.  On God's trajectory I have experienced more pain than I would have chosen, but it has brought a depth and dependence on him that I couldn't have, wouldn't have, orchestrated on my own. I do not consider myself weak because I put my life in the hands of someone else.  I'm stronger, so much stronger in my dependence. I am grateful for that dependence because it brings with it a peace that surpasses all understanding.  Peace is not something we witness often, so for this, I am very grateful.

Ryan's life was not interrupted, but rather completed.  He fulfilled his purpose on this earth, and yet, there is still so much of him left behind for me to continue to cherish and learn from.  I will never tire of talking about my son and all that his life and death taught me and consequently, all that God has done in my life. I believe that is part of my trajectory.  Even though gone in body, there is a part of him that lives on in me.



So to Ryan, as I approach the 2nd anniversary of your death, I say, "Thank you!  Thank you for living life so boldly.  You lived it fully to the end and I purpose to do the same.  I would choose to be your mother again, in a heartbeat, even with the pain. As of today, God's trajectory is still in motion in my life. You are terribly missed, loved to the heavens and back, and I will see you soon, but not yet! My trajectory is not complete."