"The day that is coming shall set them ablaze, says the LORD of hosts, so that it will leave them neither root nor branch. But for you who fear my name, the sun of righteousness shall rise with healing in its wings. You shall go out like calves leaping from the stalls." ( Malachi 4:1-2 )
It's hard to wrap my mind around the fact that tomorrow marks the 20th anniversary of my sister's death.
I remember several different Christian women during that difficult time, including one of Kathy's oncology nurses, gently ministering to me about my belief system. But I didn't have ears to hear their godly counsel just then. I was like a Great Pyrenees, ever hearing, never listening. Nonetheless, the seeds were planted.
After Kathy died, it all came crashing down, my faith, my belief system. Something wasn't adding up in my theology, and I was determined to find out why. The Farmer would come home from work to find me sitting up in the bed with my Bible and recently purchased theology books spread out before me.
The doctrinal rubble that once seemed to stand so tall and strong now lay crumbled in ruins amidst my cozy quilts in the sinking sand. The storm had made landfall.
It reminds me of what C.S. Lewis wrote in Mere Christianity:
"Imagine yourself a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house....But presently he starts knocking that house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? ....You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but he is building a palace. He intends to come live in it Himself."
And God makes no provision for false doctrine in his children's houses. Of course not, he loves his sheep with a holy jealousy. ( Exodus 20:5 )
During this time of intense study I asked the Lord to please show me the truth. I was confused because as Scripture warns can happen I had allowed myself to be "tossed about by every wind of doctrine" for my entire life. And that's exactly how I felt, "storm tossed on the billowing waves of twisted theology" as I had latched onto whatever I was taught, what tickled my ears, instead of knowing my Bible and testing what I heard against it. And so often it takes a typhoon to topple the imprudent, frail cottage.
During the continued study, the truth began to dawn on me that, in spite of being in church my whole life, if asked, I could not unpack the Gospel of Jesus Christ to save my soul.
Slowly, my faith began to be rebuilt on the firm foundation of God's Holy Word. And it began with theology - the study of God. Up to that point I didn't have an accurate view of Yahweh or Jesus Christ, of his person and his redemptive work. I had heard many teachings on the Holy Spirit, but I really didn't know him either or his crucial work in the life of the believer.
There would be more storms and nasty battles to confront, and as Christians we will always be growing, which includes growing pains in the process as God burns off the impurities with his cleansing fire, but I was finally on my way to living the Christian life on solid ground. A sense of joy and freedom was settling into my heart.
Before this journey at Kathy's long chemo treatments we would talk about the desire the Farmer and I had for a piece of land to build a homestead. For much of her eight month battle, we thought it would be an adventure together with our families, but as it became more apparent that her time on earth was quickly drawing to a close; heartbroken, I knew it wasn't meant to be.
A year and a half after Kathy died and after we had engaged in one wild goose chase upon another, investigating property all over the state of Virginia, the Farmer and I finally found land. It had a beautiful blend of our "must haves" with open acres, woods, a thriving body of water, and it was just enough off the beaten path in rural Bedford County close to where I grew up.
The Farmer asked me to name it. He knew it was important to me. I told him that it was going to he "healing" something because my sister had taught me that true healing takes place in one's spirit and is found only in Jesus.
I couldn't get the second word - I liked "springs," but there was already a "Healing Springs" in Virginia. One day while I was driving and thinking it over the word "brook" came to me. I liked it. I was pretty sure there was a verse somewhere in the Bible about a brook.
Shortly after closing, the Farmer and I were walking over the perimeter of the woods, this was our "pre-Great Pyrenees days," to our delight we found a babbling brook cascading down from the mountain through the forest trees, encapsulated with strong boulders, the bubbles rolled sweetly over the rocks and into the creek that bordered the property.
Now from time to time I sit by the "healing brook" with my dogs and listen to the calming sound of the water. Nature composes the most beautiful symphony. Through a groaning creation, God mysteriously comforts us and gives us glimpses of the resplendent, promise land to come
My mother-in-law, a pastor's wife, visited the farm to pray with us before we started to build anything. She prayed over our future together with the Lord and she wanted to help me in my on-going grieving process. She said that when her husband died young, the Farmer's father, that she knelt in agonizing prayer over his death and for the first time she said that she came face to face with the sovereignty of God.
I would come to learn what she meant. Today the sovereignty of God is the most comforting, precious, and reassuring hope to me, bringing an overwhelming confidence and strength to serve my Maker.
In "Orthodoxy" G.K. Chesterton wrote about the contradiction of God's sovereignty and man's freewill and the tension of living within them. "It's a mystery," he writes, "As long as you have mystery you have health; when you destroy mystery you create morbidity." I'd add "whether we realize it or not."
We want to figure things out, but God's ways are not our ways. And yet his ways are the best ways. When we understand, we can't understand, accepting and living in the tension of both of these, I've found this spiritual truth creates a strong reliance upon God and a robust faith.
Chesterton goes on to say that if we see two truths that contradict each other, we should take the two truths and the contradiction along with them, for in seeing two different pictures at once, we see all the better for it. When one thing becomes mysterious, everything else becomes clear.
For instance in Genesis 22, when God tested Abraham by telling him to take "your only son Issac, whom you love," the son of promise, and sacrifice him on Mount Moriah, this testing seemed to contradict all that God had promised to him.
Hebrews 11:17-19 tells us that Abraham was prepared to obey God while believing God to bring Issac back to life again. God provided a ram caught in a thorny thicket for the sacrifice instead of Issac. All of this being a type and shadow of the day when God would prepare another sacrifice in the life of his Son, the Lamb of God, in the same place. ( 2 Chronicles 3:1 )
And the sacrifice of His Son would not be halted. No, this sacrifice would be carried out in the life of his Son. Christ is the ram caught in the thicket of thorns, willingly wearing the crown. Jesus the Christ would take our sin and in exchange give us his perfect righteousness - the only way back to God.
In the mystery of my pain and His sacrifice, Jesus became clear.
Through the ages of human history, most have viewed life and religion as circular, the "circle of life."
Not so with Jesus. At the heart of the Cross, Chesterton explains, is a collision and a contradiction that can extend its four arms for ever without altering its shape.
I love this.
Things are not how I thought they would be, but God has given me more through the Cross and his Son than I ever knew or dreamed possible - not a physical healing that will eventually end in death - no, something far greater and needed and abundantly life-giving, a healing of my spirit in salvation that will never die.
I found my answer - I found Jesus.
Or rather, He found me.
Soli Deo Gloria!
💜
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