I have been involved with Church since I can remember.  Some of my earliest memories from Sundays are of hurriedly dressing, being poured into white tights which bound and irritated my belly such I could have been a snake, bloated and tight, needing to shed its skin to relieve the pressure.  My Mom was generally stressed out, attempting to corral four wild girls into “Sunday Clothes,” and her tone of voice grew more strident and louder the closer our departure time.  Sunday meant a stressful morning.  But all us sisters knew, as we pulled into the church driveway, our “happy family faces” better be on as we stepped out of the car, no matter how tense and poisonous the atmosphere which percolated inside the doors of our suburban station wagon.

Perhaps partially due to the fear I felt most Sundays before ever crossing the doors at church, my concept of God, and what He represented, was a mixed bag.  Certainly I absorbed the dogma of an All-knowing, All-powerful God; the God of the Old Testament seemed forever fixed, in my young mind, as a punisher of His people, pelting flames of justice from the skies, striking with deliberate randomness, as lightning to a tree standing tall and proud.  I mastered that concept easily; I heard it in sermons and lived it via my earthly parent weekly.  But the God of Love and Kindness, the Giver of overwhelming and underserved merciful grace and redemption was not so easily seen.   Oh, I now know God was there, quietly singing psalms of peace and forgiveness, whispering to me through hymns sung by our Choir; His glory shining via the colors of stained glass shards in windows, glowing with precision and pattern as the sun climbed ever higher while the church service progressed.  But the whispers of forgiveness and the light of glory was muted and quiet while my attention was focused on avoiding the punishment of an angered entity much more powerful than me.

My view was primarily unchanged until high school, when my Methodist Youth Fellowship leader, Hope Morgan (now Hope Morgan Ward) became the catalyst of radical change heretofore unknown in my life.  She was a guidepost of God’s love and she shared that love freely.  She taught, not in words so much, but through her compassion for her MYF pack, the poor and opressed, her ready and joyful laugh, and her patience with teens full of burgeoning hormones, confusion, hopelessness and just plain orneriness.  Oh, and her energy!!!  Hope was gifted with the energy of a litter of fat, wiggling puppies, bursting to escape their Mom/confinement and explore the world.  She took us to Washington DC, to Florida to work with migrants, and a multitude of other places, and her energy never seemed to lag.

It wasn’t that Hope was perfect.  She did lose her temper at times, mostly when some of us (like my sister, caught smoking and hanging with some of the boys we were sent to mission), broke rules present to protect us.  But Hope was imperfectly perfect.  Seeing her discipline my sister and others of us (and I am sure I was one), get angry and yet continue to radiate love and affection gave me a hint of the goodness of God.  That steady love was the birth for me, of a profound recognition of God as Love, as my Savior, and as Eternal Peace.

Of course, learning something for the first time does not mean you have learned it for life, at least for me.  I am too stubborn and too forgetful to remember much without steady study.  And so, as I have grown older and hopefully at least somewhat wiser, nuances of God’s character have caught my eye.  As a crystal reflects light, so too does God’s character shine as I gaze upon His word, His natural world, His people acting as His body, His hands, His feet.

But, and I realize you may never have felt this way, but perhaps you have; in my heart, residing comfortably alongside the knowledge of God’s goodness, was still a fear of death.  It wasn’t exactly the fear of leaving this world although I have delighted in my time here among family and friends, though it was partly a fear of leaving.   It wasn’t exactly the fear I held, in my thoughts limited by my human capacity for understanding, that I would miss you all and I didn’t want to leave you, though it was partly a fear of loss.  It wasn’t exactly the fear of not having taught my children enough, of not having completely filled them with the strength of God, though it was partly a fear of failure.  Mostly, if I am honest with myself and you, and I long to be honest with both of us, I was doubtful.  I am still stung by this comprehension, and it hurts me, because I know God was pained by my unbelief.  I doubted God’s promise of eternal life.  Oh, I professed belief in eternal life, and even mostly believed; but fear and lack of faith were never quite excised; the tools I to which I had access were not sharp enough; their edges were dull, their blades weak.

Until…the day after Joe died.  I have let you know, more than once I trust, God will always produce good from bad.  Sometimes we wait longer than others, and sometimes we will not see the good until we see God face to face.  Now understand, for me, and maybe you struggle with this same affliction, waiting on results sucks!  When I was in school, I wanted my test results the day I took a test.  When I see the doctor for some medical procedure or test, I want the results immediately!  I want dessert before dinner; I just don’t appreciate waiting!  And sometimes, just sometimes, the wait is short.

When Joe visited me the day after his death while I was bathing (remember this from an earlier blog?), all my doubts and my unbelief vanished.  Poof!  The fear was removed with a laser sharp device; God sent Joe with a message of truth and goodness.  There is simply no room left in my soul anymore for faithlessness.  I know, with all the knowledge I possess, and will ever possess, I will have eternal life, and I will see you again.  God’s goodness has no boundaries and His love for us is steadfast and true.  I pray, if you are struggling as I did for so many years, that God will somehow, in His greatness, take these words I have written and use them to pour His love into your heart and soul, so you are full and quenched, there is no more room for doubt and fear, the knowledge of eternal life becomes real to you, and you are as excited as I am to see each other again!  Amen.

I will see you soon Joe!