The Cost Of The Cross

Snow. In April. 

Poor man's fertilizer. 

The temperature has dropped 30 degrees. 

The water has traveled outside it's boundaries. 

Warm air has given way to a bitter wind. 

Reminding us that winter has not had it's final say. 

It is Holy Week. 

For some, this means nothing.

For me. 

It is everything. 
The journey Jesus took to the cross is the defining piece of my faith. 

He came into Jerusalem Hailed as King and left Jerusalem via the cross.

He took on the dirty and broken; so that we might live. 

He died to save a wretch like me; 

when He himself was sinless. 

And as we travel to the cross this week. 

I weigh the cost. 

It cost him everything that I might have life. 

He had no regard for his own being. 

He willingly laid down his life for mine. 

It was not taken. He gave. 

I do nothing to deserve it. 

It's mine. Because He said so. 

As I watch rivers skip their banks,

 and water erode a section on a road in a matter of moments;

I am reminded that things of this earth are temporal. 

This is not our home. 

Matthew 6:19-21

Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. “But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, 

where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves do not break in or steal;

 for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

We're not home yet. 

This journey here is but a moment in the eyes of the Lord. 

We grieve this week for a friend. 

I am trying to sort it all out. 

We rejoice that he is home. 

He dances the streets of Gold with my son. 

He died serving. 

The cost of the cross. 

Doing what He felt God called Him to do. 

My heart knows this. 

But when that calling was for you the guilt thief struts in.

Bold and brass.

He died to help a wretch like me.

We will pay our last respects and celebrate his home going. 

Tucked right in the middle of Palm Sunday and Maundy Thursday. 

There is deep spiritual significance there. 

I will wrestle with this joy in the midst of grief. 

We are a people who grieve with hope; no matter how heavy the load becomes. 

All I know is I'm not home yet

This is not where I belong. 

Take this world and give me Jesus

This is not where I belong. 

We Press On, In Jesus Name

It's the moment just before I wake.

 Just before my eyes open that it all weighs down. 

The magnitude of loss, the reality of cancer, finances hanging in the balance. 

It is in those same moments that the battle for the day wages. 

My whole being wants to burrow down in; refuse to go on. 

How can I? 

When all I have known is changed.

 All that I was created to be has been ripped from me. 

The day to day has changed for ever and the future for one, decided. 

A mommy shouldn't have to bury their child. 

It is wrong. 

It is hard.

It hurts.

It's unfair.

And I wish it could be different. 

It is in those moments, just before I wake,  that I choose with everything in me, to pray.

I stop any thought that enters. 

And I think only on the precious Name of our father. 

Psalm 30:4

Sing the praises of the LORD, you his faithful people; praise his holy name.

I can't think much beyond that. 

I have grace only for the moment. 

It is in those moments that I step into the day. 

I don't know what it will hold. 

Some days I fear that. 

Each moment Clarissa heads out the door, I wonder if it will be my last with her?

Elijah walked out that door. And never came home. 

Each day the toxins pour into my farmers veins I wonder if this will work? 

Will these toxic cocktails and radiation do their thing? 

Will the farm stay stable through these rough and muddy waters. Everywhere I turn there is turmoil.

 My dad lives with memory thief storming his doors. 

I miss my mom. I long to talk with her. To share these burdens.

All this is too heavy to bear. 

I do not walk the road alone. There are those around us that have joined the walk. They are praying or have brought a meal. They watch our kids; send encouraging cards or notes. 

I do not walk the road alone.

The LORD walks beside me each step of this twisting and winding road.
Even better, He has gone before us. I don't understand all of his ways. 

But what I do understand is the peace that is offered. The promise of eternal life. 

There is hope. There is grace for the journey. 

In those moments just before I open my eyes, I step into the journey that God has for me. 

I will stand on those promises and be faithful to the end. 

My heart breaks. I miss Elijah with everything in me. It permeates every cell of my being. 

Every breath I take and move I make, longs for his presence. 

The pain sharp and piercing. 

As time passes it seems more so. There is a guttural cry that longs to have voice. 

A desire to turn back time to what it was. 

To what was before. 

Since the journey doesn't work that way we press on. 

We press on in Jesus' Name. 

We press on seeking the grace in which to live. 

Philippians 3:14

We press on toward the goal to win the prize for which

 God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.

These were Elijah's own words, just a few weeks before his work here ended. 

He emphasized our need to press on. 

And so we will.

We will seek repentance. 

We will press on to what God has in store. 

We will press on to seek peace and joy. 

We will press on, until our journey is finished and we are called home. 

In Jesus Name we Press On. 

When Life Isn't Fair

It's not fair they shout!

I'm making them clean up their school books. But I have interrupted their game playing.

And they shout at me. Yes, those cute little girls. They shout; it's NOT fair. 

And I think back to Elijah's funeral and Glenn's proclamation that it isn't fair. Oh how right he was. It's not fair. There is nothing about this journey that's fair. 

There's nothing fair about my mom having cancer for 9 years and dying at 69. Or the memory thief storming dad's doors in his 50's and setting up permanant camp at 71. It isn't fair that our land flooded and flooded until pastures couldn't be used and feed became scarce. Sending us into a financial spin beyond what we prepare for. It's not fair that at 17; with a promising future, a hard working, loveable boy hit's a telephone pole and his life forever silenced. And it's not fair that at 57 after living a life working hard, eating well, making healthy

decisions that my farmer is diagnosed with cancer. 

                               Really. It's not fair. 

And honestly; sometimes I want to stomp my feet and just scream.Oh how we want to make life fair.
We want to make it even out.

That is never to be. The scales are tipped; the young, handsome, very loved son will never walk the way of this farm, ever again. And it's not fair. 

The manure pit is being emptied. Thanks to the help of a local farmer. We never would be this far. 

The bills stack higher and higher. The chemo and radiation, imminent. Christmas 2 weeks away.
And I want to shout it's not fair.
 Nothing is right. 

Everything is messed up.

And grace visits me through the mail. 

Letters.
Words of encouragement for this weary soul.

A former colleague and friend, seen at a concert sends a note. A gift from friends and strangers.

 All to help ease the burden. All a reminder that we are not alone. And that no matter how unfair.

Someone else is recognizing that pain and wants to share. This humbles me and leaves me speechless. 

You know what?

He knows about unfairness.

It's not fair that a sinless Savior went to the cross for my sins.

He went willingly. 

The Ultimate Sacrifice. He didn't go kicking and screaming. He didn't go condemning either. 

His words from the cross:  Father forgive them for they know not what they do.

We are a forgiven people. 

We walk in light.
In repentance is great mercy, peace and grace.
That is right where I want to stay.
Right where God intended his people to be.

1 John 1:7
But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, 
we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus,
 his Son, purifies us from all sin.

Angels we have on heard high
Sweetly singing ore the plains
And the mountains in reply
Echoing their joyous strains 

Gloria in excelsis Deo
Gloria in excelsis Deo 

Glory to God in the highest