Speaking of Shirley though, I do love her so much. And I absolutely love my husband. I have a few friends that can bring themselves to tears just thinking about loved ones dying. I was never one of those girls until I got married. Okay, I know this post is starting to get morbid but stay with me. I know that worrying about what could happen is never productive. What is the point in worrying about something that may not happen (and usually won't)? As the Bible says, "sufficient for the day is its own trouble." (Matt. 6:34) But I do sometimes wonder to myself how I would handle a really difficult trial like that. I know that God's grace is great. When my dad died I experienced the comfort of God through His Word and sweet friends. He does give a peace that is beyond understanding. But as hard as it was to say goodbye to my dad for now, in my mind I think it would be even harder to have to say goodbye to Kwacha or Shirley. Could I handle it? I think it comes down to this: Do I love God more than anyone or anything else?
That is an important question to ask myself. I may not have to worry about Kwacha or Shirley dying today, but how is my life right now a living testimony that I love God more than either of them? I'm not writing an answer to that right now. I have to search my heart. But the cool thing is, if I love God more than them, I am also going to love them in just the way that I should! That is an extremely comforting thought.
I shared the following with a couple of friends recently who experienced the extremely difficult trial of miscarriage. I can't empathize with them, but I definitely sympathize.
It's a quote from Stepping Heavenward. One of my favorite books. It's at a point in the book where an older lady who had lost most of her family is talking to a younger girl whose fiancé had just died.
Sometimes I find it a help, when dull and cramped in my devotions, to say to myself: Suppose Christ should now appear before you, and you could see Him as He appeared to His disciples on earth, what would you say to Him? This brings Him near, and I say what I would say if He were visibly present. I do the same when a new sorrow threatens me. I imagine my Redeemer as coming personally to say to me, 'For your sake I am a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; now for My sake give me this child, bear this burden, submit to this loss,' Can I refuse Him? Now, dear, He really has come to you in this way, and asked you to show your love to Him, your faith in Him, by giving Him the most precious of your treasures. If He were here at this moment, and offered to restore it to you, would you dare say, 'Yes, Lord, I know, far better than You do, what is good for him and good for me; I will have him return to me, whatever it may cost; in this world of uncertainties and disappointments I shall be sure of happiness in his society, and he will enjoy more here on earth with me than he could enjoy in the companionship of saints and angels and of The Lord Himself in Heaven,' Could you dare to say this?
I hope this may encourage you in whatever trial you may be facing.
For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. Romans 8:18
