All I Have Was Given to Me

All I have of any worth was given to me by God. Events have no meaning unless put in the context of who God is and how He moves in this world. What happened to me or what happened to someone else is hollow and empty without the clear light of Truth shining on it. This is shown intensely when we think of our future home with Him.  

My friend Connie is dying. We are the same age. This terminal illness came as a total surprise. She had been having swelling in her hands and stomach pain for several months. What had originally been diagnosed as arthritis had ended up being stomach cancer.

After the surgery that got her digestive system to work again, I went to visit her. Her house is picturesque, one of those well-preserved jewels from the post-World War II era. It sits in a well-kept cove, where yards are neatly manicured.

As I walked up the path to her door, I thought about how we who know the Lord tend to expect our lives to be picturesque and neatly manicured, so to speak. We seem to think that belonging to the Him means a perfect existence. In young adulthood, or whenever we are hit with our first big disappointment, we’re startled. ”What’s this?” we want to say to God. “This isn’t part of the deal! How could You let this happen?”

Unless we run to God’s word and/or to the counsel of wise Christians, we can stay in this place of disappointment with God. Unless we remember the goodness of God and the promises that He will be there in trouble, we can move away from His warm Presence.

But I was about to be with someone who had not forgotten.  Connie met me at the door in fuzzy blue bathrobe that showed off her light blue eyes. Her face showed that she was very tired, but she smiled as she slowly led me to the sofa.

We talked a while about her family, the time she spend working in Washington, D.C. when she was young and how her surgery had gone. Then we were quiet, looking out her picture window at the snow.

“You know,” she said, “There’s really nothing in life but Him.” Her calm acceptance of what has suddenly come into her life is rooted in God. She has a rock solid trust that He holds the future. Most of all, He holds her.

She has moments of fear, moments of panic, but they are eased by His Word. His Presence is real, and He holds her in the pain. And she chooses to let Him hold her and rock her and cry with her.
I have told her that I want to go on the journey with her. I want to know Jesus in a deeper, richer way. I want to share her approach to heaven, to being with Him intensely and forever. After all, I will be going on that journey too, at the time appointed for me. I, too, with leave this world with all that is familiar to me and run into His arms. He will look me full in the face, as He will Connie, and say, “Welcome, daughter! I am so glad you are home!”