Worship

 "For it was fitting that he, for whom and by whom all things exist, in bringing many sons to glory, should make the founder of their salvation perfect through suffering." (Hebrews 2:10)

"and deliver all those who through fear of death were subject to lifelong slavery." Hebrews 2:15)

Hebrew 2 is perhaps not the chapter I was really looking for when I opened the Bible on December 13. I'm not sure what I was looking for; I knew that sweet quips and literary pats-on-the-back weren't it.

I could feel the fear and pity and anger swirling together. And many, if not most, would have said it was warranted, ok, natural to feel that way. But I had yet to really, really turn my heart and all that I am to The Lord. I felt like I didn't "get" Him. I felt tricked.
It was all about me.

For four years Eric and I had not pursued having more children because of medication worries, sweeping changes in our lives and fear of the what-ifs.
We contentedly gave this to The Lord. I knew we were pursuing God's will for our lives rather than our own plans. And I found the treasure of obedience and joy in the offering of my mind and body to The Lord.

This October a sweet life came into our lives. We were astonished and thankful.
In November we saw that sweet life beat with light and warmth; it filled up the darkness on the screen, it was so...alive. And we were thankful.
In December, December 12, all was quiet and still. That sweet life was gone. The next few hours were filled with sobbing telephone calls and difficult decisions.
And I gave thanks for the time we held that sweet life here with us.

In the morning though, after long hours of wondering about the next steps, I slipped into self-centeredness.
And I knew that I was feeding myself lies as I laid there on the couch reliving every detail of my life up to that moment in time, and every detail I was sure was coming in the next 10 years.
And I could feel the Spirit tugging me to pour Truth over my wounds, to let Love bind it all up.

Hebrews 2 awaited. I did the total, non-committal, lazy, just flip open the Bible technique.
Ha!
I don't want suffering. I can't claim to be that mature. In fact, I recently confessed to friends that I would love to have something be an easy happiness. But I see the great richness in struggle. I know my weakness, and His great strength. I see His tenderness and patience as I flail and cry. Even as my rebellious spirit spits and throws punches, He draws me to Himself.  How beautiful!  My suffering Savior, strong and tender, admonishing and loving.  Truth.  Hebrews 2.

He peels away the anger and uninterrupted sadness shakes me. I cry on the couch, in the bathroom, laying on the bed, and as I sit in the dark gazing at that beautiful boy. I unclench my hands and let go of it all. Let go of my life.

I breathe through the tears of giving. Giving myself to the only one who can hold it all. All the joy and sadness...and lighthearted happiness too. He makes it all. And I feel the thanks, the thanks He is giving to me.  I'm a mixture of sadness and joy that doesn't seem appropriate for my feeble human emotions that want it all one-tracked and simple.  But I'm both and I am totally His.
"For by Him all things were created, both in the heavens and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities-all things have been created through Him and for Him." (Colossians 1:16)

And I'm able to see a place for sadness in worship, because it is all His. Nothing is wasted, through faith-eyes given in grace, I see it is all Christ. And I know that a life without sadness doesn't mean a life of joy. I know that you can be sad and joyful and at peace as you give thanks; but you have to give yourself to do this. You have to die. I have to die.
"and deliver all those who through fear of death were subject to lifelong slavery." (Hebrews 2:15)
I won't be a slave to death. Death won't own my life. I won't fear death. But I will die. Die daily to have Life.