Thursday, September 29, 2011

The Honor of Kings

It is the Glory of God to conceal a matter;
It is the honor of kings to search it out.
Proverbs 25:2

This morning I went face down, refusing to stay in the apathetic place I have been with God. Not on my knees, not kneeling by the bed, but face down on the old wood floor; begging God to reveal Himself, begging Him to carry me, pleading for His grace, longing for real praise from my soul rather than just this ache that has accompanied me for so many days.

On your knees you can only accept what the King has to offer you; no more, no less, no great expectations, just total humbleness. I felt my insignificance; I sensed God's power and His majesty. I acknowledged Him as Lord and Master like never before. Lying there, I realized the feel of complete surrender.

Tonight I find myself near tears again at flashbacks from seven months ago. The shock must be wearing off. I tried reading some articles on grief to make sure that I was doing everything right and only found a lack of any Godly council. Many theories and statements are out there about how the first year of grieving a child isn't even the hardest part, and that the second through the seventh years are harder yet. But pretty much they all agree that you never really do get over it. And especially when it was an accidental death~ no chance of ever recovering from it.

Where are the Christians who have lost children? Where is the hope in God? Hope in His plans, in His sovereignty, in His eternity? Where are the Hebrews 11 people who are willing to trust God and wait on Him? Some days I feel like I am losing my mind. I conform too easily to what "they" say, and then I get scared. I wonder if I can barely do this today, how can I do it the rest of my life?

So I go back to my knees, back to prayer, back to God. I hold on tighter. I cry more. I trust God all over. I keep thinking that in 800-billion-years from now I won't even remember this day. I try to put it all in perspective somehow. I go back to the truth of Scripture and refuse, again, to be shaken. I repeat the verses over and over and over:

For those He foreknew He predestined; Precious is the death of the saints in the eyes of the Lord; Never will God leave me or forsake; I am in the palm of His hand; God knew Trent and the plans He had for him; Jesus is coming soon; God only does things for our good; one day, one day this will all be made right.

Then I realize that I made it through another day. I realize that Trent's salvation was made clear before his death. I realize that God doesn't make mistakes, and that He knows what broken hearts feel like. I realize I am praising God again.

"Blessed are those who believe in God when they haven't seen him," Alexis reminds me. "Mom, that means you. You are blessed."

I am one day closer to being in heaven. I pray harder for my children who are here. I pray for my husband. I pray for those God calls me to pray for. I pray to live as if this is my last day. I anticipate meeting Jesus face to face. I long for salvation for many souls. I long for the glory of the Lord to fill this land. I proclaim, again, what is only foolishness to so many: Jesus saves, only Jesus saves. Won't you call on Him today when He can still be found, dear reader?