A New Life

I have been thinking about new life lately because my son, Peter, and his wife, Sarah, became parents of a baby boy in June; he was born by C-section. I was struck by a picture of them minutes after the birth. Peter has baby Alex cradled in his arms, and has laid the baby and his own head on the operating table next to Sarah. Peter and Sarah are together enveloping Alex in smiling beams of love and happiness, as well as the warmth of Peter's arms.

But baby Alex seems oblivious to them, and his face looks anguished. It is as if he were saying, "This is terrible! I have just been through great trauma! I've been pushed on and pushed on, over and over. And then I was grabbed out of my warm, soft, snug world, into glaring light and cold air, with nothing around me! People poked me! What kind of horrible thing has happened to me?"

Alex seems to have no idea that two strong and loving people are encircling him with love and care. He has no idea that what he thought was his secure and comfortable world would have been his tomb had he remained in it a few weeks longer. All he knows is that the world has changed, seemingly for the worse. He liked his old life.

But how things had changed a month later! My son put a video of Alex on their website, showing him responding in happy smiles, and even a laugh, whenever my daughter-in-law whistled. In the video, Alex can't take his eyes off of his mother. He is obviously delighted to be with her. Even when she picks him up and moves him around, his eyes never leave her face. He loves her.

Alex has discovered that his new life is better, far better, than his old one. His new life makes him smile and laugh! There is a mommy, and a daddy, and even a sister, in his new life. Before going through the trauma of birth, he had no way to imagine these things, no knowledge that could give him a clue about them. But once he was on the other side of birth, there those wonderful people were. Now that he has them, he would never choose to give them up and go back.

Alex's experience reminds me of two other things, changes that many of us fear and yet that may lead us to wonders beyond our imaginings.

One of them is becoming a Christian and handing over our lives to Jesus. Many people do not want to relinquish control of their lives to anyone else. They don't want to make changes by stopping doing what is fun or pleasurable, perhaps having to change some enjoyable habits. Similarly, a relative of mine was an alcoholic for years and didn't want to quit because she thought it would be boring to be sober.

But once we truly give ourselves to Christ, we find treasures that we did not even know existed. There is a richness and a joy that is beyond the imagination of people who aren't Christians. The old habits that we thought we loved seem like nothing to us; it's no problem to give them up, because we don't care about them any more. My relative, who has been sober for years now, says that she loves it; it's not one bit boring, it's richly fulfilling. She had not been able to imagine that before she tried it. It is the same with being a Christian.

The other change that many of us fear is dying. Most people dread it. We are usually happy here, or at least it seems better than dying. We don't know what it will be like to die. Very few people would willingly go to their deaths. This life is usually at least comfortable and familiar. Death is frightening, and it may be traumatic.

But what is on the other side of that dying? If we are Christians, what we will find when we die is Jesus and all the joys of eternal life with Him. We don't know what that will be exactly, but we do know that it will be so great and beautiful that we can't even imagine it. We think that in this world we are secure and comfortable, like baby Alex thought he was in the womb. But when we pass through death to new life, we will be filled with joy, like baby Alex is now with his family surrounding him with love and care. It is not to be feared; when we are Christians, it is to be anticipated with gladness.

We are so blessed to have a God that we can trust, and to have a new life to look forward to with joy.

Whatever

{This is a post from 2007 that I wrote on a different blog, and I am reposting it here.)

Today I was on the floor again.

Syncopal episode is the term that the doctor uses for it. I just say "I fainted." It happened on Saturday evening when I was exercising, and it happened again today after I walked up some stairs at work and sat down at my desk. Today, once again, I found myself wondering why I had lost control of my thoughts, and then I realized that I was actually down on the floor, waking up.

After the first time, I had gone to see the doctor. That was yesterday, and she had ordered an EKG. When the EKG was done, the nurse looked at the results and said, "It's abnormal, but I don't know what it means." Then she left the room.

A year and a half ago, I was going through breast cancer treatment. Now with the nurse's announcement of an abnormal EKG, it looked like maybe I was going to have another health issue. So I decided it would be a good time to pray.

"Dear God," I started, and then paused, and then the thing that seemed right to me to say as I continued was: "whatever!" And what I meant by that was, "whatever the outcome of this is, whether I have heart problems, or something else, or nothing at all, it's in your hands, God, and I'm OK with that. I don't actually need to ask you for an outcome of any kind, because I trust you with anything. I'll just wait and see what happens and try to be your witness to the people I encounter in whatever the situation is." And although I only used the one word, "whatever", I think God knew what I meant.

The reason I was able to pray this prayer, instead of asking God to keep me from illness or harm, was because of the cancer I had just gone through. He had been with me in a strong and loving way throughout that time, and had shown me in many ways how much he cared for me (see here and here). Because I knew this, I had suddenly realized, when I started to pray, that I had no fear of any new illness.

The doctor then came in and told me that the EKG looked identical to the one I had two years earlier, so it wasn't really abnormal after all. However, she wanted me to see a cardiologist. And I was actually in the process of making that appointment when I fainted again today. And Microsoft Security came, and the paramedics came, and off I eventually went to the ER!

Now I'm sitting in a hospital room, admitted for observation and tests, and I still feel the way I felt when I prayed yesterday: I am not afraid. A new illness might even be a new adventure in learning more about the depth of God's love. For what can separate us from the love of Christ? Certainly not illness. "For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor heavenly rulers, nor things that are present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 8:38-39).

No, I still say, "Dear God--whatever! I'm with you, and that's all that matters."

Unknown Future, Known God

This is a post that I wrote in January 2009, on another blog. I'm reposting it here because, although some aspects of it are dated (Obama hasn't just been inaugurated, my husband got a job, lost it, and now has another, I work elsewhere now, etc.), the general message it contains is, I believe, timeless.

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This is a scary time here in our country, and even around the world. True, many people have been rejoicing in the last few days over the inauguration of President Obama. But that hasn't made the economic crisis go away. I work for one of the most well-known companies in America, generally regarded as safe and secure: Microsoft. But yesterday, two days after the inauguration, Microsoft laid off around 1000 people, and announced that more jobs would be eliminated in the next 18 months. My job is still intact. But who knows what the future holds?

My husband lost his own job four months ago. The non-profit Presbyterian renewal group he worked for was a victim of the economic climate, and had to eliminate several positions. Now I'm our sole breadwinner, working for a company that is planning reductions in staff. And there are so many other families like us.

The papers are talking about the possibility of a second Depression. We're approaching retirement age. What does that mean for us? What does it mean for our children, for our three-year-old granddaughter, or the other grandchildren still to be born? It's easy to feel fear thinking of this possibly cloudy future.

At work yesterday, the Christians at Microsoft were talking via e-mail about the layoffs. Some of them were among those who had been let go. One of our Christian brothers in India sent the words from a poster he used to have. The poster had said this:

Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God.

We certainly have an unknown future right now! But we also most certainly have a known God. His constancy, love, and care for us are known from the Bible. But they are also known from our experience with him. I know from going through cancer a few years ago that I can absolutely rely on him to get me through any hard time, to sustain me and support me and give me what I need to get by. He doesn't leave us when we're in need.

In fact, God's goodness and love are so great that, when I had cancer, I found that he can make a hard time into a time of blessing and relationship with him that can bring joy beyond imagining. It was a surprise; I hadn't expected it. But it was a wonderful surprise! Others have had this same experience. The hardness of the hard time fades away next to the joy--the joy that comes with the deepening of the relationship with God that happens in the hard time.

So, yes, he is a known God, and what is known about him is so wonderful that, when I read that sentence, "Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God," it actually gave me a thrill. It made me remember that I don't need to fear. In any future, he'll be there. So even if that future is hard, we'll have him with us, and that will make it good.