Yesterday I stood in an auditorium, facing my friend, with our hands linked together. All over the room, pairs of people were lumped together-all doing their best to repeat the challenge we’ve been given. We stood there staring at each other, with tears pouring down our faces.
Now, before I go any further, let me be clear. I don’t normally enjoy demonstrative group activities…and I wasn’t exactly thrilled, nor comfortable with my present situation. I don’t typically stare into people’s eyes…nor do I have a regular habit of holding both of people’s hands while talking to them; never mind that we were insanely close together. friend or no friend…not so much my thing. In fact, I might go so far as to say that had I known we were going to do this, it might have made me reconsider my weekend plans. ;)
Nonetheless, in those moments there was pressure. We were told what to do, and as far as I could see, everyone was following suit. So there I stood; hands linked, voice shaking. The ugly cry hovering on my lashes.
A month or so ago, when I first heard of the conference, a part of me believed I was supposed to go alone. My heart has been so disconnected from God and from community that I was sure He would want me there alone, so He could deal with me one on one. It would have been easier to do this activity with a total stranger. I’m convinced, there would not have been any tears…because a stranger wouldn’t know my heart. With a stranger, I could receive my challenge and then walk out of the auditorium, and into the world without any human follow up.
So really, it’s not all that surprising that I was uncomfortably staring into the eyes of my friend. I have a feeling, I was exactly where He wanted me to be.
A lot of life has happened over the past few weeks. The most heart breaking has been the diagnosis of cancer in sweet John Marr. Anyone who knows us, knows how unbelievably precious the Marr family is to us and when they ache, we cannot help but ache with them and for them. At the conference this past weekend, we talked about prayer that comes from the deepest parts of us. The prayers where we cry…’please, God, please’…as we beg Him to heal our loved ones, or to rescue those in the throws of addictions. We cry out for God to take searing pain out of our lives and from the lives of ones we love the most. I was reminded this weekend of how tender He is to our cries and that when the answer is to wait…or even, no, it’s because His glory is at stake.
Hearing that gave me these little snap shot images of the Marr’s over these past few weeks. John, after his diagnosis, sitting in his hospital bed, talking about God’s grace and sovereignty; able to laugh and play with babies; to hug and hold people extra close; able to hope. Yvonne, always, faithfully at his side. Becca, tucking her babies in, praying with them for Baboo, waiting for their child-like questions about sickness, and then at the end of a long day, going to the hospital once they’d fallen asleep to be with Tony. And Tony, who with a very broken heart, stood on stage and led worship at church. Tony is a teaching pastor and he’s taught so many important lessons over the past few years. But his most powerful message to date took place last week as he stood in front of us and offered His praise and his heartache to a God who’s still Good.
That type of living, changes those who are watching. I understand what Beth means when she says, ‘His glory is at stake’. It doesn’t make it any easier, but I get it. The real life moments of those we’ve walked with as of late, are more powerful then any sermon I’ve ever heard.
The challenge we gave each other yesterday as tears poured down our faces, is to dwell in this land. To really truly dwell in it. We have one life and a piece of the world beneath our feet; we’ve been commanded to get out there and to do some good.
So for as much as I griped about the awkward moments, eye to eye with my friend, I’m grateful I wasn’t there alone. In addition to life and grace, God’s given us each other to live with. He knows we might do more, when encouraged by loved ones to get out of our comfort zones and live. To my Marr’s and the ladies with me this weekend, I love, love, love you. Thanks for helping me see.
