Monday, October 05, 2009

One Answer. Period.


C.S. Lewis mentioned in his book, Mere Christianity, that if we Christians turn out to be wrong, then surely we're the most miserable of all, since apparently we'd have missed out on the joys of drinking, carousing and random encounters. Yeah, well the flip side would also have to include hangovers and STDs, maybe a poor trade-off/reward system.

Pastor Tony held me absolutely spellbound yesterday with his sermon, pointing out an attorney, Sir Lionel Luckhoo, who'd won 245 consecutive court cases against overwhelming evidence presented by the prosecutors. Clearly this was a gifted, brilliant man, so let's give him the biggest case of all.

Prove Jesus was not resurrected.

Spending years in research, combing the records of historians, he could only come up with one answer.

Jesus was resurrected. He truly is the son of God.

If then, that is true...wouldn't also all the promises He made for us be true?

Duh.

Therefore, I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me, and this very tough life of mine, that I've been called to participate in, is doable, right?

Yep, my faith is rock solid and truly, I'm even more excited now, than this time yesterday, before Pastor Tony preached.

Folks constantly tell me, "I don't know how you do it." Well, wouldn't this be how?

Yes, I make mistakes, and don't get it all done all the time. I falter, fall down, carry on, have duck fits, and have broken a few plates, but in the end, I keep going, even when somehow the boys have so badly flooded this first bathroom that it has seeped into the original master bathroom, and I hate to call a plumber because he'll have to go through Paloma's nasty room that is absolutely trashed once again.

Her severe emotional disturbances, combined with some degree of self-loathing and brain mis-wirings, have rendered her incapable of ever complying with any degree of normalness. She's happiest in a nest of her own filth, which I find revolting. Can she be broken of this? Healed of this? My optimism screams yes, while my experiences with disturbed children show otherwise, yet I've seen miracles.

The baby, Zoe, the one I'd asked for prayer about, was dedicated yesterday in church. I knew this was coming so I emotionally had time to gird myself, her grandmother reassuring me that Zoe would be OK. Define OK. I understand the emotional level from which they are functioning through this horrendously difficult time. The brain tumor is there. A miracle is needed. Folks move the hands of God through prayer.

I remember when Zoe's mom was a pre-schooler, I know the grandparents from the early years of a charismatic church we'd all attended, all of us then so very excited at the possibilities of life before us, now some 25 years later, many of us have been very beaten down and nearly destroyed by events. Indeed, a beautiful and sweet lady, who'd slipped into the service and sat quietly with us, had lost her son many years ago when he was only in elementary school, my heart still breaks for her, I know that level of grief will never go away. He was Marcela's age, he should be 28 now, she will never see him again on earth, but what incredible and amazing reunions await us in Heaven.

Life is hard y'all. I know I don't need to tell you that as so many of you have endured some horrific hardships and situations. I know that many of you moms think to yourself (because you've told me so) if Cindy can do this with 39, I can do it with my 8 or 4 or 10 or whatever. I hear this a lot. Like every day.

But honey, Cindy can't do it without Jesus. It's just that simple. Thankfully my higher level of education never prevented, nor hindered, my very simple faith. He is all I need. Not money, not a maid service, not a reality tv series, nor a full-time grounds manager.

The night that Sarah and Preston lost their baby son, a perfectly formed baby, that we were privileged to hold, but for a moment, after he passed away, could have shook us all apart, could have destroyed Sarah, Preston, Edith, Georgeann and I, had we raged at God about it. We cried oceans of tears and God's grace carried us through.

I know I have many non-believers reading here and I'll not try and convert you. I'm only explaining how I do this, as I am constantly asked that one simple question and I only have one answer. Truly though, I pray that any non-believers can, and will, also discover and hold this source of very deep joy.

OK, free sermon is over.

But how anyone can wake up and think to themselves that this is all random, those that have no faith...I just don't get it. You know how pointlessness rubs me wrong.

I ran outside and did get a row of collards planted after church, before the very gentle, but unrelenting rain began to fall. I got some peppers picked, I walked Scotty through a simple assignment that he fussed about all weekend, I'm dragging in my houseplants slowly for winter, re-reading the genius of Eliot Coleman and Joel Salatin, late at night when my house is finally quiet.

I'm genuinely believing that the second half of my life will be the best half. I have a lot to look forward to, and obviously eternity's gonna be a blast.

Then we're really gonna party and I pray all y'all will join us there.