“Nothing happens to you except by the will of God, and yet [God’s] beloved children curse it because they do not know it for what it is.” (Cassaude)

Are the bad things, the hard things, really God’s plan – or does He just allow them to bring about a greater glory – in which case, one could then argue that this indeed makes even the hard things His will…

Is this solely in regard to those who are His, who are of the faith? And how does one say – how can one say – that a child beat, a wife bruised, a young life cut short by cancer’s rampage, is His will?

Romans 8:28 says, “And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to His purpose for them.”

As a Christ-follower, I have a love-hate relationship with this verse. I’ve heard it – it seems – a million times, and yet I never thought about reading the next verse immediately, to contextualize things: “For God knew his people in advance and he chose them to become like His Son…”

Like His Son.

Today’s hard word? To be like His Son, to be molded and formed in His image…guess what that means? Times of pain, of suffering, are inevitable.

“Then you will be arrested, persecuted, and killed. You will be hated all over the world because you are my followers.” (Matthew 24:9)

And He knows us – He knows what we need for Him to reach us, teach us, take us to that next place with Him.

He knows when we need the hard things.

I suppose the real question is, will I still trust Him then?

“My suffering was good for me, for it taught me to pay attention to your decrees. Your instructions are more valuable to me than millions in gold and silver.” (Psalm 119:71-72)

Saturday.

Yesterday we meditated on the cross – the carrying of, the nailing to, the dying on.

Tomorrow, we see, hear, and know – He’s risen, just as He said!

Through the years, I’ve seen and heard the phrase, “It’s Friday, but Sunday’s coming!” But what happened on Saturday? What happened at the “in-between”? What happened between the suffering and saving, between grief and grace?

Scripture is mostly quiet – we don’t read of what the disciples did, but we know they were wanted men (or at least they assumed so). We can imagine them gathering together behind locked doors, in fear, waiting. Waiting for what? Certainly not for Mary’s Sunday morning announcement as she burst through the doors: “He’s risen!”

Mark is the only gospel that speaks of Saturday – and he only gives it a sentence, a few words:

“Saturday evening, when the Sabbath ended, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome went out and purchased burial spices so they could anoint Jesus’ body.” (Mark 16:1) In the rush to bury their friend before the Sabbath began, it seems they were unable to properly prepare His body. So they set out to do so early on Sunday morning (Luke 24:1), preparing for such on Saturday night.

If they knew he was going to rise, why prepare the spices? Weren’t they listening to You, Lord? From our view some 2000 years later, we can easily shake our heads, thinking, “Silly women, silly disciples, don’t you know Sunday’s coming?”

But how often do I find myself at the “in-between” – and what do I do there? I know Sunday’s coming – what’s my excuse?

As I ponder that Saturday, and as I think about the Saturdays in my life, I grieve at how often I’ve hidden, shaken and scared, asking why. I am ashamed to think of how I’ve focused on what happened, what I can see, not what He’s doing, what He can do…what He will do.

I too am silent – scared and stuck – on Saturday, the in-between.

But then I remember! “Why are you looking among the dead for someone who is alive? He isn’t here! He is risen from the dead! Remember what he told you back in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be betrayed into the hands of sinful men and be crucified, and that he would rise again on the third day.” (Luke 24:5-7)

Yes, it’s Saturday. But Sunday’s coming!

This world, the things we see and experience, the good, the bad, the ugly…ultimately, we must consider a single word: perspective.

Without the lense of His Word, all seems lost. Is that how the disciples felt some 2000 years ago – lost, so lost, because what they thought should happen, what they wanted to happen, had not?

Perspective.

Where are you, conquering King? Oh. You are humiliated, beaten, pierced, dying. Why don’t You come down off that cross, save Yourself?

“Because I’m saving You instead.”

“But he was pierced for our rebellion, crushed for our sins. He was beaten so we could be whole. He was whipped so we could be healed. All of us, like sheep, have strayed away. We have left God’s paths to follow our own. Yet the Lord laid on him the sins of us all.” (Isaiah 53:5-6, NLT)

Today is what many in Christendom refer to as “Maundy Thursday” or “Holy Thursday” – the day that commemorates the Last Supper when Jesus shared the Passover meal with his disciples on the night before he was crucified. As I reflect on that this morning, I am awestruck as I remember that as He took up the bread, the wine, He gave thanks. He knew what was about to happen. In human flesh, He could anticipate the pain, the suffering, the torture. As God, He KNEW what this would cost, the rip and tear of flesh, the pounding of nails, the turning away of Abba Father as sky darkened, thunder crashed, ground shook.

And still, He gave thanks.

I find it so easy to give thanks – to live eucharisteo (thanksgiving, grace) when the sun shines, the bills are paid, the tunnels are not backed up. But can I give thanks when the hard things come? Ann Voskamp writes, “This may be it. The hard eucharisteo. Now I know that I don’t want to know it yet… Ever. How to lay the hand open for this moment’s bread – when it will hurt.”

He gives us this day our daily bread – and for some of us, it’s SO good today! But for others, the bread of this day – of this moment – hurts, pierces….rends and tears.

Can we praise Him, thank Him, find grace…even in those moments? Can I?

Will I?

“Sing to the Lord, for he has done wonderful things. Make known his praise around the world. Let all the people of Jerusalem[a] shout his praise with joy! For great is the Holy One of Israel who lives among you.” (Isaiah 12:5-6, NLT)

I was sitting on the couch with our dog, Toby, tonight.

“Hey, Muffin Man!” I said to him – to which Parker responded, “Why are you calling him that?”

I proceeded to sing the song to our enraptured pup (okay, maybe just semi-interested, but work with me here), using our street name instead of Drury Lane.

“He’s not the Muffin Man. Quit calling him that,” replied our slightly exasperated teen.

“Why not?”

“No one knows who the Muffin Man is, Mom. That’s why they keep asking, ‘do you know the Muffin Man’. So, just stop, okay?”

Smart ass. Not sure who he gets that from.

Honestly, I am having a tough time getting back into this. So, to try to jump start things, I am going to give a summary (or try to) of my February.

Women’s Retreat

The first weekend, I went to a women’s retreat with the church where I work (I don’t actually attend there). My last experience with a church women’s retreat was…well, let’s just say that as soon as it wasn’t a requirement for me to go, I didn’t go. But I’d been invited last year and had to decline, so this year, I added it to my calendar as soon as I had the dates (handling the church calendar makes that quite easy). I was assured by one of the organizers (who I happen to adore) that this group was not cliquish or gossipy or vipid in any way.

She was right.

I was welcomed with open arms (it’s a good thing I’ve gotten used to hugging, because lots of that was a-goin’ on). Even though some of the “theology” of this group is different than what I am used to, they were not lacking in grace or love – which was exactly what the doctor (or perhaps I should say, Great Physican) ordered.

Valentine’s Day

Rob and I have been married over a quarter of a century now, and we learned well before that that one does not go out to dinner on Valentine’s Day.

Especially when Valentine’s Day is a Friday.

(Still wondering where the economic doom-and-gloomers are on Friday nights at any halfway decent restaurant.)

We chose the Tuesday before and had the entire Thai restaurant to ourselves (love me some shrimp pad tai). And that was our gift to each other too – this has become our tradition on this over-commercialized holiday.

On the actual day, Rob cooked up his amazing steaks (ribeye, thank-you-very-much) and baked artisan bread. I opened the wine and tossed the salad. While inhaling savoring said feast, I mentioned in an off-handed way, “I am glad we don’t celebrate on the actual day, but I have to admit that I felt a little wistful seeing all the flower pictures on facebook today.”

(I really did not mean this as a hint of any kind.)

An hour or so later, we sat on the couch, cuddling a bit and just chatting. Eventually, I glanced to my right and saw…

A box. Easily recognizable as from a local jeweler.

That stinker!

But those sparkly blue* earrings sure are pretty.

Small Group

Rob and I are co-hosting the Dave Ramsey study, Legacy. Our group is small this time around (last semester we hosted a rather large Financial Peace University group), but the connection between the members was immediate. A definite God thing. That is, after we started a week late because of snow. (Have I mentioned that we’ve had 3 snow falls this winter and another is on the way tomorrow? Definitely not the norm for this part of VA. But back to our group…)

I was really tweaked that first week concerning my view of acquiring wealth. Man, have we twisted some stuff in the “average” church.

I am really excited about the rest of the semester.

The Daughter

She turned 22 on the 22nd. She’s now engaged, working full time (boring, she admits, but great pay and benefits), and still just about as high strung as she was at 12.

But we are really seeing her grow and mature. She’s walked away from church…for now. I continue to pray, and I won’t stop.

It’s in there – I know it is. And more importantly than that – He is faithful.

And He loves her even more than I do.

*He couldn’t remember if they are aquamarine or sapphires – and I am certainly not savvy enough to know!

Yes, indeed.

Approximately four years since I blogged (and even more since I blogged with any commitment or faithfulness). Something that was once an integral part of my life, replaced by 140 character or less social media posts and Instagram photos.

Why did I stop? Perhaps the better question is, why did I start?

I started blogging for me. Then I found an audience…who became a group of friends. I wrote for the joy of writing and for the joy of having others read my writing.

I lost that somehow…somewhere along the way.

I am not the same person I was four years ago, let alone 12+ years ago when I first threw myself into the blogosphere. I am not even sure this is a part of who I am anymore.

But something tells me it’s time to give it another try.