A Time to Weep

Some days, I just cry about it.  Mostly at night when everyone is asleep and my mind is still awake and thinking too much.  When I kiss his little face goodnight and he says, "I love you, Momma" --and I know he means it because of the way he looks at me without the expectation of a returned, "I love you, too."  And I think, he's going to wake up from surgery and ask me why I let them do this to him if I knew that it would hurt --and I'll have to give him one of those Mom answers, "Because it's what's best for you even if it hurts."

I am what you would call the "melancholy" type.  I like a good cry, a cleanse from stress that seems to wash away a bit of weight from my shoulders.  Yet, these cries don't seem to bring much relief.  So, I make myself stop thinking, forge ahead, and remind myself that it's six months of his life for a lifetime of steps on level footing. 

And, God gets me ... every time.  Even now writing this blog. 

This blog was going to be about John 11:35 -Jesus wept.  I was going to point out the obvious:  Jesus knew that He was about to raise Lazarus from the dead, yet He cried.  He knew the outcome was going to be glorious and that Martha and Mary would be celebrating and all those watching would witness a miracle like no other, yet He cried.  Scholars have debated why He was crying.  Was it because He loved Lazarus so much Himself and shared in the grief of the sisters who were His friends?  Was it because the sisters had so little faith that they did not trust His timing?  Was it because they had enough faith to know that the outcome would have been different had He been there three days before?  Either way, He cried -- all the while knowing that the circumstances were for their good and His glory. 

Thus, I feel relieved to know that although I cling to Romans 8:28 -"All things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose" --it's okay to cry.

Yet, what still seemed to trouble me --until God spoke to me today --was the WHY.  Why this "lot" in life?
That's the term we use isn't it -"lot."  Well, God showed me where this word comes from and what my "lot" actually looks like, and now I'm crying, but it's for another reason.  Read on!

Beth Moore points out that the Hebrew word for lots is tied to the terms favor or portions (or presents).  Well, at first I didn't see my present.  Even knowing that God has great things in store for my child, things he will only be able to achieve because of this surgery, "present" was a hard word to swallow.  Ethan knows my thoughts; I've told him, "Someone in that hospital may only come to know Jesus because you are there and that person will see Him in you" --or "You'll get to tell him about your Savior --or he'll hear us pray and it will plant a seed the harvest of which will be salvation."  Yes, those are presents --presents God will allow us to bestow on others as a result of working out His will through us --and allow us to reap at the same time.   Yet those are not even the presents the scripture speaks of.  Read on!

Psalm 16:5 -The Lord is the portion of mine inheritance and of my cup;


I had to do some research on this one.  This "portioning" goes back to Numbers 18:20 when Aaron was told that the tribe of Levi, the priests, would not inherit any "portion" or lot of land in Canaan.  Why not?  They were a priestly tribe --they were to be set apart from all other tribes.  Instead of looking to their inheritance in the land, in things temporal and wordly, their inheritance was to be found in the Lord.

Let that sit a minute.

Listen.  My lot in life is not the cup that I'm handed here.  It's the Saviour who is coming for me!  Didn't I mention that I'm of the Royal Priesthood, the tribe of Levi --sometimes I forget myself.  1 Peter 2:9-10 reminds me:  But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people; that ye should show forth the praises of him who hath called you out of darkness into his marvellous light:  Which in time past were not a people, but are now the people of God.

Priests --what did they do?  They offered up sacrifices acceptable to their God.  What can I offer my God --who gladly drank His cup of suffering and death on the cross so that He could glorify His Father in heaven AND receive His portion?  What is Christ's portion?  Didn't I mention that I'm His portion --He died to inherit me --and Ethan --and all those who have called upon His name.

Now, what sacrifice can I offer?  Well, today I offer my sacrifice of praise.  Oh how I lift Your name on high --how my suffering pales in comparison to yours.  How do I inherit You and all You inherit is me?

Will I still cry?  Of course, I'm his Momma.  But, I will stop and I'll remember who I am and who I'm living for and what my allotment truly entails, and not just survive, but find my joy again.
Did I mention, too, that when I cry and look to my Father asking why he let me go through this when He knew that it would hurt, that I fully expect a fatherly answer, "Because it's what's best for you even if it hurts."