What a week!
I’m doing laundry, buying groceries for two weeks, trying to think of every possible scenario that might present itself while I’m away and prepare for it in advance, doing laundry – oh, I already said that. Well, there’s enough laundry to deserve a double mention.
On the writing front, I’m almost ready. I’m afraid to say I am ready, because I don’t want to jinx it, and because it sounds cocky and because it isn’t true.
I’m as ready as I’m gonna get.
That’s more like it.
But all this preparation and angst – I’ll be away from my family for 6 of the next 8 days – got me thinking.
Scary, I know.
I got to thinking about how Jesus might have felt as he prepared to leave the disciples. Now, Jesus, being God and knowing everything, could have just been like “Oh, they’ll be fine” and left it at that. But Jesus, being human and experiencing everything we feel didn’t do that. He asked the Father (you can look it up – John 14) to send the disciples a Comforter who would stay with them (and us) forever.
Now, in my case, I know my children will be fine. They have a wonderful father who is more than capable of dressing, bathing and feeding them. They’ll have a blast since they get to hang out with Grandma and Aunt Jennifer the whole time. So I’m not worried. I’m not. Quit laughing. I. Am. Not. Worried.
But think of what Jesus saw when He looked at his disciples. Talk about children. Children with the spiritual maturity of a five year old on a good day. Children who couldn’t seem to stay out of trouble. Children who needed Him. Desperately.
And He saw us. Two thousand years later. Often with the spiritual maturity of a three year old on a bad day. Children who need Him desperately.
So the Father sent the Comforter. And Jesus sits at the right hand and intercedes on our behalf. Because while He is not here physically with us, He loves us. He misses us. He longs for the day when the Father says “Go” and He can bring us to where He is. Forever.
I have some friends who are hurting today. They’ve recently lost fathers and grandfathers. They celebrated Mother’s Day, knowing it would be the last time they got to do that with their mom on earth. They’ve gotten bad news from test results and the future looks grim.
I’ve been there. I know the ache and confusion of wondering why God doesn’t fix this or that.
I don’t have the answers.
But I know my Jesus. And I know He loves us.
I know that the love I feel for my children is a fraction of the love He feels for us.
And I know that as much as I would never leave my children without preparing them for my absence, my Savior prepared us to go through life without his physical presence.
I know the Holy Spirit is present, praying for them when all they can do is cry. I know that Jesus is interceding on their behalf. I know that the Everlasting Arms of the Father are wrapped around them even as they feel like their world is crumbling.
I know He is holding them – and me – tight in His mighty hand. And there is no safer place to be.
Can a woman forget her nursing child, that she should have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, yet, I will not forget you. Behold, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands. (Isaiah 49:15-16a ESV)
Very good.