(Note: I am totally procrastinating right now. I have SO much work to get done this weekend but that's okay. My priorities are a little out of wack. Whatever!)
I haven't written for a while. Between schoolwork, real work, and just life in general, I haven't had much time for writing down any reflections. But today I am taking a minute to share a thought that is bringing me confort today.
Last weekend I met my dad down in Washington DC. My grandparents live there and my grandpa is not doing too well. The doctors say he probably doesn't have much time left. I have had a special relationship with my grandparents for a while now. I am the first girl to be born in the Lipkowitz family for three generations. When I was little I didnt really get my grandparents. THey lived on the other coast and when we went to visit them it was fun but not necessarily intimate. When I was 16 something changed. I went to visit my grandparents by myself. I found out that my grandma is pretty cool. My grandpa, silent and strong, also found a special place in my heart. Since then, I have gone to visit them by myself quite a few times and over the years have grown pretty close to them.
So this weekend, standing next to my grandpa's bed where he is growing closer and closer to death by the day, I couldn't stop the tears streaming down my cheeks. I rested my hand on his head and prayed that he would feel my touch and know it was me telling him that I loved him. I might not see him ever again. As my dad and I drove away, I couldn't face my dad for fear that my eyes would begin to pour out and I wouldn't be able to stop the river of tears that I was fighting.
I thought, what hope do I have? Is there any comfort for this pain? Death is very painful, for those who die and for those who are left behind. My mind rested on 2 Cor 1:3-4.
Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted.
I have found solace in these verses countless times in the past. I have been thinking about it recently though. What does it mean that God is a God of comfort? I have been playing around with these thoughts and today as I was reading the passage it hit me: God can comfort us because he experienced the pain we experience. He is not a distant God. The effects of sin (of which death is one of the saddest) are not foreign to Him. He came down here and subjected Himself to the pain and suffering of mankind. His comfort is one of familiarity and yet victory.
Too often I focus on His victory- the fact that He overcame sin and death and offers us new life. But I forget that He actually went through this world, He felt personally the pain that this world forces upon us. He is no stranger. Indeed, He knows our sorrows.
This incredible truth brings more tears to my eyes as I realize that I can rest in Him, even in my pain, I can feel pain as I rest in His promises. Pain is just one more reminder of His glory. We are so far from it. There is comfort in Him.
I haven't written for a while. Between schoolwork, real work, and just life in general, I haven't had much time for writing down any reflections. But today I am taking a minute to share a thought that is bringing me confort today.
Last weekend I met my dad down in Washington DC. My grandparents live there and my grandpa is not doing too well. The doctors say he probably doesn't have much time left. I have had a special relationship with my grandparents for a while now. I am the first girl to be born in the Lipkowitz family for three generations. When I was little I didnt really get my grandparents. THey lived on the other coast and when we went to visit them it was fun but not necessarily intimate. When I was 16 something changed. I went to visit my grandparents by myself. I found out that my grandma is pretty cool. My grandpa, silent and strong, also found a special place in my heart. Since then, I have gone to visit them by myself quite a few times and over the years have grown pretty close to them.
So this weekend, standing next to my grandpa's bed where he is growing closer and closer to death by the day, I couldn't stop the tears streaming down my cheeks. I rested my hand on his head and prayed that he would feel my touch and know it was me telling him that I loved him. I might not see him ever again. As my dad and I drove away, I couldn't face my dad for fear that my eyes would begin to pour out and I wouldn't be able to stop the river of tears that I was fighting.
I thought, what hope do I have? Is there any comfort for this pain? Death is very painful, for those who die and for those who are left behind. My mind rested on 2 Cor 1:3-4.
Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted.
I have found solace in these verses countless times in the past. I have been thinking about it recently though. What does it mean that God is a God of comfort? I have been playing around with these thoughts and today as I was reading the passage it hit me: God can comfort us because he experienced the pain we experience. He is not a distant God. The effects of sin (of which death is one of the saddest) are not foreign to Him. He came down here and subjected Himself to the pain and suffering of mankind. His comfort is one of familiarity and yet victory.
Too often I focus on His victory- the fact that He overcame sin and death and offers us new life. But I forget that He actually went through this world, He felt personally the pain that this world forces upon us. He is no stranger. Indeed, He knows our sorrows.
This incredible truth brings more tears to my eyes as I realize that I can rest in Him, even in my pain, I can feel pain as I rest in His promises. Pain is just one more reminder of His glory. We are so far from it. There is comfort in Him.
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(And my daughter is the only the second girl with direct Moffatt blood in 120 years, the other being my sister. It is a special thing.)