Not to be able to fix things, not to really do anything, not even really to SAY anything significant...just to be and to pray together and to hold hands and to connect. To say, "We are SO sorry." To acknowledge, "You must be so heartbroken." To pray, "God, we don't understand, but know that you are here with these dear friends and love them and cry with them."
The hour reaffirmed to me how discipleship actually fleshes out. How evangelism and sharing the Gospel often actually sounds. How sharing Christ actually looks.
It reminded me again how often I get caught up thinking the unimportant things are important...like getting such-and-such done, like how such -and-such will look, like what such-and-such will think.
Reminded me again that there is nothing more important that feeding the people who show up at meal times...because over the gift, we build.
Reminded me again that there is nothing more important than taking the time with each and every student who plops down at my desk to find out how things are going in their families, in their churches...to stop and pray with them for those things, even as they came for tutoring or copies or to pay a bill.
Reminded me again how important it is to not forget that Matt, Lily and Sofie are a great and precious missionfield.
Reminded me again to evaluate what we do and how we do it not through the eyes of others or even through our own, but through HIS eyes.
As we sat and shared Cokes and sang and prayed and talked with those two, I remembered how important it is to LET PEOPLE TALK. To LET her tell her story, even though we already knew it. To let her share it. And to let Claudin talk about what he thinks God thinks...and acknowledge it and encourage Him in the truth.
I was also deeply blessed to see people there when we got there, people coming and going the whole time we were there, and people coming as we left. Because they have sat and been there for so many, discipling, evangelizing, sharing, building, there are SO many so anxious to do the same in their pain. The many coming and going was a great testimony of the authenticity of Christ and servanthood in Claudin's life. There is nothing sadder, in this culture, than to be alone. And they have yet to be.
Finally, it reminded me that terrible, awful, heartbreaking, painful crud just happens. This shouldn't have happened. They shouldn't have lost their daughter. But you know what? I shouldn't have lost my mom. And our dear friends shouldn't be watching their mom crippled by stroke. And many of you shouldn't have lost babies...lost children, parents, loved ones. Seen tragedy. Known heartbreak. Shouldn't BE LONELY.
The world is terribly broken and sin from the start to the moment has separated and destroyed so much.
But EVEN as we discussed in hushed tones their great pain--as if to speak it loudly would just crush the heart--their eyes were clear. Filled with tears and clear.
Does that even make sense? Their hearts were soft. Their eyes were clear. Their spirits radiated a quiet joy. His Spirit that was upon them and within them and through them before hasn't wained whatsoever. It was as clear as day.
Crush them, life. And because of JESUS, you will find sweet outpouring, nonetheless.
A friend shared with me 2 weeks ago as a result of a post such an outpouring of extreme pain and betrayal this year. And yet I knew even before she shared it that IT. DID. NOT. MATTER.
She would give Him glory. She would dwell at His feet. She will remain.
What a testimony.
And what a testimony from the Noralus family, even as her stomach is flattened. Even as their little crib stands empty this Christmas.
It all reminded me the manger is full.
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