Wisdom in the House of Mourning

 

"It is better to go to a house of mourning

Than to go to a house of feasting,

Because that is the end of every man,

And the living takes it to heart.

Sorrow is better than laughter, 

For when a face is sad a heart may be happy.

The mind of fools is in the house of pleasure."

Ecclesiastes 7:3-4

 

A strange scripture? Why would anyone prefer a funeral to a feast? The joy of celebration is from God to be enjoyed. Parties can be fun and make us forget our troubles - if only for a day - but a funeral is where all of life comes into clear view and we remember what is really important, what is really true. We tend to take our life for granted until someone loses theirs.

 

When I first heard this verse I remembered a time when I had seen wisdom come in the house of mourning. When I was 18, my dear and godly grandfather died. My mother grieved hard. She adored him, but at the time of my conception, their relationship had become strained. It was 1948 and an out-of-wedlock pregnancy was a disgrace. My parents married and moved away, separating themselves from family and faith. We lived a strangely isolated life, seldom visiting my grandparents, and, when we did, avoiding all aunts, uncles, cousins and family friends, those who had supported and loved my mother all her life.

 

At the funeral home, I saw my mother glowing as she received love from all the people she thought had abandoned and judged her. Her countenance was different than I had ever seen. In that house of mourning, wisdom was there. In that house of mourning, the peace of the God she knew in childhood flooded her. She was comforted by knowing her father was in His hands. She saw love and forgiveness were there all along. She saw God in a way she had not seen Him before. In that house of mourning, there was the joy that was missing from the party-times she loved.  I didn't know about Ecclesiastes 7 then, but I knew my mother had seen things in the right way in her place of mourning. My mother and I – the living – took it to heart.

 

I saw the same wisdom again when my dad's mother died suddenly. He saw the reality that any of us could die today, and it frightened him. He saw the end of every man, and rushed to meet with the pastor. He was wiser in the funeral home than in the bar room. 

  

Another time, members of our church gathered at the home of a young couple to pray. The husband had just been diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor. Doctors only gave him a few months to live. What a blow to this family and to us who loved them! But what wisdom was present there! In a room filled with over a hundred people, a hush fell as this young father shared about all God was showing him in his own "house of mourning." He said he wanted only for God to be glorified through this, whatever the outcome. He said "I get it!" and everyone knew he was seeing something we don't quite see yet. He gave us a glimpse. We who were blessed to hear wisdom speak hung on every word. We saw more, understood more, loved more, because we were in the "house of mourning."

 

Americans do not know how to mourn. In our hurry-up microwave culture, there simply isn’t time!  Mourning is a two-day affair. Employers expect you back to work and productive, showing no signs of grief. Not so in other cultures of the world. The Jewish people are fastidious about mourning, “sitting shiva” with the bereaved for seven days. In Africa family and neighbors gather around for as long as it takes. There is no shame in expressing grief. The Bible contains many laments, including the whole book of Lamentations, where Jeremiah mourns in detail the losses of the Jewish people in the Babylonian captivity of 586 BC. Every year, the Jewish people read the bool of Lamentations as part of a seven-day fast in remembrance.

 

A house of mourning doesn't have to be a funeral home. It can be in our private prayer time when God shows us our sin in light of His holiness. Or times when He convicts of idols and ways of the world. At the church altar when we respond to His presence. The house of mourning is any place where we see His greatness and our weakness.

 

Let us take the lessons of the house of mourning to heart! Sorrow can be better than laughter if it brings us closer to God. Mourning shows us life through an eternal lens.

Remember that Solomon also said in Ecclesiastes 3 that there is a time to laugh and a time to mourn.

 

Seasons in Community

 

Ecc. 3:11 “He has made everything beautiful and appropriate in its time.”  (Amp.)

God uses the natural creation to teach us about the ebb and flow of seasons in our lives. We usually think of seasons as being personal, unique to ourselves but, in any church, at any given time, many seasons will be represented. It helps to not only discern our own season, but the seasons of others.

We wonder, why doesn’t God just bring us out of this season? We tend to think it’s just about us, but often it is not. We are not the only one on the planet that God is working in. Our life may be a part of God’s purpose in others. A common example is a woman feeling that her life is on hold while God is working on things in her husband’s heart. Or a mother suffering grief because of her children’s problems, while God is drawing them and working in their season, in His time.

Everyone is in their own unique season. It may be that churches and ministries have their seasons too. Perhaps, while you wait for direction, God is at work to provide a place and need for your particular giftings. As the body of Christ moves more and more into the time of harvest, no doubt we will see our individual seasons shift too.

We can help others discern their season by:      

·     --  Honestly sharing our personal experiences. Hearing that someone else has “been there” offers comfort.

·       --Listening!

·      -- Not pressuring them to conform to expectations of others

·       --Operating in the gifts of the Spirit to give insight and healing

We can support another in their season by:

·       --Not judging or comparing

·       --Walking alongside in prayer and friendship

·      -- Offering compassion and understanding

 Romans 12:15 “Rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep.”

It is often easier to weep with those who weep than to rejoice with those whose season is more joyful than mine.                                                                                           

Proverbs 15:23 “A man hath joy by the answer of his mouth; and a word spoken in due season, how good it is.”

1 Corinthians 12:4-7 “Now, there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit.

And there are varieties of effects, but the same God who works all things in all persons, but to each one is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.”

 Questions to ponder, pray, share:

·       --Have you been left waiting in a season while God was working in someone else’s life?

·      -- How might the Holy Spirit use a gift of the Spirit to help you understand your season?

·      -- Do you have fellowship that offers the opportunity for honest sharing? If not, ask God to point you to those you can trust.

Discern Your Season

 

Ecc. 3:  1-4     

"To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:

A time to be born - and a time to die.

A time to plant and a time to pluck up that which is planted.

A time to kill and a time to heal, a time to break down, and a time to build up.

A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance."

Southerners often don’t fully understand the seasons.  We had many days in the 70’s this winter. Even the trees and shrubs get confused and bud before the last freeze of the year. I got an education in seasons when we planned a trip to New England one May. The tourist guide said that May was "OFF SEASON”, but that meant little to us! Upon arrival, l we found that most inns and restaurants were closed. The ground was slushy, and no flowers bloomed. We experienced being out of season, in the right place at the wrong time.

Are you feeling a little “off-season”? Do you see others moving into ministries, yet doors haven’t opened for you?  Have your plans been delayed by work obligations or the need to care for a family member? Does your life look different than you expected? Whatever your season, God intends to use it for your growth and transformation.

 It's not always easy to discern the season you are in - to be in the right place in the right season. The calendar marks the first day of Spring, but spiritual seasons are not so easily recognized. The Lord will give wisdom when we seek Him.

 Understanding our season enables us to make the most of the lessons it teaches.  If we steward the season well, we won’t compare our lives with others or strive to move on to the next season too soon.  Our faith will grow, bringing peace with it.  God promises that we will bring forth fruit in season. If we expect things out of season, we rush God.

 

• Elisha had a season of serving Elijah and a season of leading
• David had seasons as shepherd, military hero, king, dethroned king
• Saul did not operate within his season. He couldn't accept his successor and could not get over God choosing someone else.

 We learn from nature that seasons do not last forever!

 Questions to ponder, pray, share:       

-How would I describe the season of life I am in?     

-How does remembering past seasons offer perspective to my present circumstances?

·       --Am I offering gratitude to God for His past faithfulness in my life?

·       --Am I offering worship to Him - for “He who promised is faithful.” Hebrews 10:23

 

Sowing in Tears

 

    

 Psalm 126:5-6   

                   "Those who sow in tears shall reap with joyful shouting

He who goes to and fro weeping, carrying his bag of seed,

Shall indeed come again with a shout of joy, bringing his sheaves with him."

What does it mean to sow in tears? We don’t always understand the agricultural metaphors and parables of the Bible because our culture is industrial. We don’t depend directly on the cycle of plowing, sowing, waiting and reaping for our livelihood. The people of Jesus’ day fully understood because their very lives revolved around these seasons.

After harvest, the people enjoyed the fruit of their labor, but as the year progressed, the harvest was depleted. The food supply was dwindling. When planting season came back around, all they had left was a bag of grain. Perhaps the forecast looked grim - a dry season was coming.  They could eat now or plant it as seed, trusting God to bring rain, growth and harvest.  When they courageously sowed their seed and released their faith, tears came.

It's okay to show your tears.

Like the farmer who has just sown that last bag of seed, you may find yourselves in that middle place, the one between planting and harvest.

In the valley between mountains.

In the middle between the need and the testimony.

Transitions are hard. They signal the death of one season, the hope for another.

 A new harvest will come and you will INDEED come again rejoicing, bringing new sheaves of harvest with you! You will reap answers to your faithful prayers.

 Galatians 6:9 “And let us not be weary in well doing, for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not”

 Keep sowing in your middle place!  It may look like you have nothing left to sow.  Sow gratitude and praise. Sow seeds of care and encouragement to others. God understands if your sowing is in tears. He will even provide new seed to sow!

2 Cor 9:10 “Now He who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will supply and multiply your seed for sowing and increase the harvest of your righteousness.”

Questions to ponder, pray, share:

·        --Do you recall a time when you sowed in tears?

·       --How would you identify your present season: sowing, waiting or reaping?

·      -- If you are in the waiting phase, what seeds are you continuing to sow?

·       --Thank God for the sheaves you will harvest and that you will bring in with great joy.!

Hebrews 13:15 “By him therefore let us offer the sacrifice of praise to God continually.”

Seeking God - The Path

 

“Those who seek me find me.” 

Proverbs 8:17

         

            What does it mean to seek God?  The Hebrew language, in which the Old Testament was written, often painted “word pictures” that are more descriptive than our English words.  A meaning of the word “seek” paints a picture of “treading frequently so as to make a path.”

 

I used to wonder what people meant when they talked about “seeking God”. It was something I could not understand. It sounded complicated; certainly not something I knew how to do.

 

When I learned the meaning of the word “seek”, I remembered the path behind my grandfather’s house. In the back of his yard there was a small wooded area. A clear path was visible from the yard – the grass had been worn down to dirt and brush stopped its growth on either side of the path. The path led to my grandfather’s brother’s house. It was made by my grandfather and his brother and their families walking from one house to the other day after day, year after year. Because they tread or walked on the path regularly, grass and brush did not grow—the worn path was evidence of decades of two families sharing their lives with each other.

 

            As the two families walked the path, their relationships were strengthened. The path was proof that they were comfortable knocking on each other’s door to borrow a cup of sugar or to share coffee together. In good times and bad, the more they were a part of each other’s everyday lives, the more worn and clear the path became.

 

            I wonder if the neighbors Jesus described in Luke 11:5-9 had worn a path between their homes. Jesus describes one pounding on the other’s door at midnight asking for bread to feed visitors. At first the neighbor refuses, saying he is in bed, his family with him. Finally, Jesus says the man will give in and give the bread, because of his neighbor’s importunity – his shameless persistence.

 

Seeking God is something we give our lives to. We don’t seek His blessings or information about Him, but we seek Him—as a person, because we desire His company, His companionship. God desires an everyday relationship with us. A comfortable relationship where we feel free to talk to Him whenever we please. A relationship where God feels welcome to speak to us and knows that we will listen when He does. A relationship closer and more intimate than that of my grandfather and his brother. Certainly closer than the two neighbors of Luke 11.

 

            When I thought about the path behind my grandfather’s house, I realized that I do indeed seek Him – every time I pray, meditate on His word, come before Him in worship.  Seeking doesn’t require a special formula, just persistence. Some days I feel closer to Him than others, but as I keep coming to Him, in whatever way I know, in good times and in bad, I am treading that path—I am seeking Him! It is simple! Every prayer I pray and every grateful thought I have of Him presses the brush down a little more. The way seems clearer, the path easier to find. As my grandfather walked the path, he could see a welcoming light in his brother’s window. As I tread the path of seeking Him, I know that God will receive and welcome me. I know that if I seek Him I will find Him!

 

“Ask and it shall be given you; seek and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you.” Luke 11:9

For His Glory

 

Why write?

Why write when no one reads?

Why tell my story when it’s nothing special?

I’ve asked myself many times.

The answer: for His glory!

To give God glory is to give an accurate representation of who he is! To give the correct opinion or estimate. To reflect his beauty and magnificence. To convey a sense of brilliance or radiance.

As immeasurable as the vastness of the galaxy, is the minutia of the microscopic world.  Somewhere in between, a huge God stepped down into the business of one shy little girl and revealed himself.  Psalm 139 tells us that the sum of God’s thoughts toward me is vast! Toward ME!

In order to be a writer, we are told we must “build an online presence” because publishers won’t even read your work without it. Maybe not, but God will. Of that I am sure.

“The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.”

Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they reveal knowledge.” Ps 19:1-2

Maybe I’ll take the heavens as my example and say “right back atcha.” 

John wrote in his gospel “And there are also many other things which Jesus did, which if they were written in detail, I suppose that even the world itself would not contain the books that would be written.”  To all that has been written, I can add my words about all he has done in my life.  To accurately represent who he is.  For his glory!

Turning Point

 

“Most Likely to Succeed” the high school yearbook read.  I thought back to my experiences as an honor student, always well-liked by teachers. I had always loved school – well, actually.…that wasn’t always true.

            I don’t remember much about the events of elementary school, but I could take you on a virtual tour of the large red brick North Central Elementary school and its      grounds.  Huge live oaks graced the large front and side lawns.  In the back of the school, a wide horseshoe-shaped sidewalk circled a grove of five or six more stately oaks.  Before school and at recess students walked around and around it in groups of two or three.  At my 20^th high school reunion, a classmate told me she had envied the red Mary Jane shoes I wore in first grade because they made the neatest shuffling noise as we strolled around the horseshoe! 

            I held tightly to my mother’s hand as we walked up the long sidewalk, into the open space of the large foyer and down the wood-floored hall to the right past the lower elementary classrooms.   I wore a red, yellow and blue plaid dress with puffed sleeves and a gathered skirt and sash.  My mother always made neat little school dresses for me.   My long blonde hair bounced with curls formed by sleeping with rag curlers – strips of material around which sections of hair were wrapped and tied.  My bangs were freshly trimmed, a little crooked and more than a little too short.. 

            As we passed the first room on the right – Mrs. Moody’s first grade classroom, I saw new first graders waiting eagerly with their moms.

            “Surely, third grade will be better than first.” I thought, but my stomach turned.

            Mrs. Moody was barely taller than her first graders, much shorter than five feet.  She wore pointy dark-rimmed glasses and dressed in tailored suits and dresses with chunky healed shoes.  There were few disciplinary problems in elementary school.  Teachers kept order in their classrooms, especially Mrs. Moody.  Intimidation was her M.O.  No wonder I missed almost half of the school year with acute tonsillitis.  During a long hot September afternoon, terrified to ask to go to the bathroom, I sat for the half-hour before dismissal with a warm puddle at my feet. When the bell rang, I got up and left quickly, The poor janitor. To my enormous relief, Mrs. Moody hadn’t noticed.

            In the days before special education, a boy who had been held back a grade or two was in our class.  Roger Dale was kind and gentle, but slow in learning.  I learned a lot about compassion one day when Ms. Moody angrily threw a glass of water in Roger Dale’s face.  I remember him sobbing outside the classroom window as he took off his plaid cotton shirt and hung it on the shrub to dry. The memory still hurts.

            “Surely 3^rd grade will be better!” I told myself.

            The next classroom we passed on the right was Mrs. Alexander’s second grade classroom.  I remembered that second grade hadn’t been much better than first – maybe worse.  Mrs. Alexander was tall, thin, and stern.  She wore her hair wavy and close to her head. I wonder now just how old she and Mrs. Moody were.  They certainly seemed old to me then, and they even look old to me in the picture I have, but I suppose they could have been only in their forties.  Every day after lunch, Mrs. Alexander paddled children who had “milk mustaches”.  I had started second grade there, moved, attended two other schools and then transferred back into Mrs. Alexander’s classroom. When she began to teach cursive writing in the spring, she was not happy that I had already started learning cursive at another school. She snarled out words I will never forget “You just think you’re smart, but you’re no smarter than an old billy goat!”  As we walked by, I drew a little closer to Mama and shivered a little as I saw the new 2^nd grade class sitting there happy and optimistic about their school year. Poor kids.

 “Oh, surely 3^rd grade will be better!” I agonized again.

            As we continued down the hall to the last classroom on the left, next to the cafeteria, I felt a little queasy.

“I’ve never known anyone who’s done third grade before!” I fretted.

As we turned into the room a tall black-haired woman stood in the middle of desks, students and parents.  She was young-fresh out of college!  And she smiled a big toothy smile–

“Hello, Linda, I’m Miss Kenneth, your new teacher.”  Then she did something so unexpected that I almost gasped – she hugged me.  Saying goodbye to Mama suddenly became a little easier. 

            That first morning Miss Kenneth had each of us read to her and do a writing assignment.

 “Oh you read so well Linda!”  “Great writing,  Linda.”   Throughout the morning, again and again, she smiled.  I fell in love with Miss Kenneth!

 By recess, as I skipped around the horseshoe, I decided that school just might be my thing after all.