Christmas Lights in the Shadow of Death

With Christmas cheer peeking around the corner and filling people’s homes and hearts, it is good for us to remember that the holiday season will not be cheerful for some. As a matter of fact, it will be very difficult to muster a smile and celebrate Christmas. An empty chair in a room where a loved one once traditionally sat will be a constant reminder they are gone. Or, there will be one less voice among the festive voices of family and friends. Or, there will be the aching sadness of a broken heart because of the death of a loved one. C.S. Lewis wrote in A Grief Observed, “What is grief compared with physical pain? Whatever fools may say, the body can suffer twenty times more than the mind.” It is the mind, full of memories, that can be one of the biggest challenges in December for those walking through grief.
Holidays magnify the pangs of grief. Mainly, because its during the holidays that we slow down and remember the significance of the relationships with all those whom we love. When that loved one is gone, then the holiday blessings can become burdensome. The angel of the Lord declared that Jesus the Messiah would “shine on those living in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the path of peace.” That is what Christ can do among a small group of Jesus-followers who gather around those who have falling because of grief and loss. They become Christmas lights shining the love of Jesus on those living in the darkness of the shadow of death, grief, and sorrow. Grief educator, Harold Ivan Smith writes, “Although no one can walk your grief path for you, someone can walk you.”

Shining through Prayer & Presence
One of the ways you can encourage those who are grieving is through prayer. Sometimes we don’t know what to do, but we can take them to the Father in prayer. He hears the broken-hearted. I suggest actually praying in the presence of the person who has experienced loss. Ask them if you can join hands with them and pray. Then pray the blessings of God’s hope-filled promises for them. If you need to write down a Bible verse on a card and use it as your curriculum for prayer as you lift them to the Father. Here are a couple of examples:

· “You’ve kept track of my every toss and turn through the sleepless nights, each tear entered in your ledger, each ache written in your book.” Psalm 56:8 (MSG)
· “You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, that my heart may sing to you and not be silent.” Psalm 30:11-12 (NIV)

Shining through Your Words
Sometimes we are afraid to say anything about the one who has passed away to those who are suffering with grief. We are afraid we might stir up painful feelings. But I think it’s good to express to people in the valley of the shadow of death, that you too are experiencing the sorrow of the loss. They are reminded that they are not bearing the burden of grief alone. You might share with them a good memory of the person, or a phrase they used to say that encouraged your life. Just mentioning that you thought about their loved one who passed away could be a great source of encouragement for them, and lift their fallen spirit.

Thankful for Spilled Chocolate Milk

A couple of weeks ago, I was in running late one morning, and had to get Garrett and Kason to Beth at the Little Store by 9 a.m. so they could go to the dentist. So we hustled out of the house without breakfast so we drove through Braum’s for breakfast. Garrett ordered a sausage, egg, and cheese biscuit and white milk. Kason ordered a bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit and chocolate milk. I ordered a small coffee and a yogurt fruit swirl. If I had known what was about to happen I would have ordered a big country breakfast with extra gravy!
The lady at the window handed all the food to me and I relayed it to the boys. I wasn’t too worried about Garrett handling a big cup of milk. He’s fifteen and a half and he should know how to hold his own. So I handed Kason a big cup of chocolate milk across the back seat. Let me digress. I think someone ought to invent non-spillable cups that hold milk for kids. Something with a tiny little hole that you can barely sip the milk out of, you know like they do for all the coffee drinkers. Anyways, I handed the cup back to Kason, looked him right in the eye, and said as any loving Father would say, “DO NOT SPILL THAT CHOCOLATE MILK IN THE BACK SEAT.” He received the instruction well. Now in Kason’s defense he’s not the messy one in the Clark clan. He’s got good hands. Real good hands. As a matter of fact, he whooped me in three games of “HORSE” last Sunday afternoon, and I’m still really disgusted by the fact that my ten-year-old shoot a basketball better than me. Nevertheless, if I were a Buddhist, or a New Ager, I would have known better than to speak things into existence. If I were a five-point Calvinist I would have shrugged it off to the sovereignty of God. Since I’m just a simple beggarly Jesus-follower, I discovered it was a glimpse of God’s grace.
Less than sixty seconds later, travelling north on Highway 99 at approximately 8:43 a.m. on Wednesday, November the 18th, a veritable tsunami of chocolate milk gooshed, swashed, poofloogered, and blahsmithered all over the backseat. I had to make up those two last words to attempt to capture the sound effects of 20 ounces of Braum’s chocolate milk spilling from a cup held in the hand of a ten-year-old. The events that transpired following the chocolate milk tsunami, volcano, tornado, thunderstorm thing in the back of my F-150 are confidential and under lock and key with the CIA, FBI, CSI, and I think, even PBS and OETA.
I pondered that delightful little scenario, which included Garrett laughing at the irony of me speaking a self-fulfilling prophecy, and Kason defending himself by saying, “Dad, I had a good hold on the cup,” and me saying, “If you had a good hold on the cup, there wouldn’t be chocolate milk all over the floor board,” and Kason saying, “But the lid wasn’t on there right, Dad,” and me saying, “But you should have held it at the base of the cup, son.” You know how all these things go. I think it’s easier just to blame Braum’s, or the President, or the movement of the moon across the night sky.
Thanksgiving is this week, and naturally our hearts turn to God’s blessings for our lives. He is faithful through good and bad, thick and thin, and tough and easy times. And in every situation, God reveals His love and grace, if we pay attention. The Psalmist said, “How can I repay the LORD for all his goodness to me?” (Psalm 116:12). I may not be happy about spilled chocolate milk, but I am thankful for it. I’m thankful that I have a ten-year-old boy who spilled it, a fifteen-year-old son who laughed it off, a fourteen-year-old son who will never let me forget it, and my wife who gave me the “tone it down and give your boy a hug and make it right before I take them to the dentist” look.

Dirty Feet

The disciples didn’t have the luxury of wearing a nice pair of Asic Gels, Nike Shox, or Ostrich-skin boots. They wore sandals in the first century. Leather sandals. There was plenty of dirt and dust on the Roman Empire roads and village pathways to get everyone’s feet dirty. That’s why in the nice homes, the servant would cleanse the guest’s feet with water. We needed some foot-washers during the church softball league because I ruined bout ten pairs of socks. I’m still dumping sand and dirt out of my shoes! That stuff gets everywhere.

I’m thinking of Peter right now, reclined at the table on the evening before Jesus was betrayed and crucified. And I’m thinking of what must have gone through his mind when Jesus got up and took off his clothes, stripped down to his loin cloth and girded himself with a towel to wash his disciples feet. Believing that Jesus was the Messiah, and the Son of God, how difficult it must have been to watch someone who was worthy of your servitude and obeisance, kneel down before you and pour water over your dirty feet and dusty toes.

Preposterous Grace
The idea of the omnipotent God washing my dirty feet is preposterous. But isn’t grace preposterous?There is a secret pride in the heart of all us, I suspect, like Peter’s. “I will not allow you, Lord, to wash my feet!” As Colonel Hathi exclaimed in Jungle Book, ‘A female leading my herd, that’s preposterous!’ The idea of the omnipotent God washing my dirty feet is preposterous. But isn’t grace preposterous? Preposterous means ‘contrary to nature, reason, or common sense; absurd; utterly foolish.’ It’s absurd that God would place himself in a position of servanthood and wash my dirty feet. A foot-washing Savior? That is preposterous! What’s more absurd is that He would die for me on a cross. It’s absurd that God would mercifully forgive me. It’s absurd that God would love me. The whole gospel is absurd, and that’s what makes it glorious and fantastically true!

I think all of us find ourselves perplexed with Peter. We are actually offended at the thought of Jesus washing our feet. It’s offensive to our sense of self-worth and self-righteousness. We should be washing his feet. But the fact is, we don’t have a choice as a Jesus-follower. He must wash our feet. It’s not a choice we get to make. He must wash our feet. We need him to wash our feet. Jesus, the Servant-God, washes our feet, and without His washing our spiritual steps would be insignificant.

Do You Understand What I Have Done for You?
The Bible says, “When he finished washing their feet, he put on his clothes and returned to his place” (John 13:12a). Jesus delivered a heart-felt, poignant final message to his followers. As he dressed, and returned to his seat at the table, he asked, “Do you understand what I have done for you?” More than a mere foot-cleaning, and more than some spiritual pedicure, Jesus modeled the tangible love He inspires and expects to be exchanged between people who love Him and bear His name.