Me, not so much. In fact, I am finally finishing up John... a couple weeks late.
Now, I've read the book of John, studied it even, before. But the beauty of the Bible is how it can be the same text and yet strike my heart so differently at times depending on the season that I am in. Verses in a passage that I've quickly skimmed by before can stand out like a sore thumb later, as my experiences in life change and grow. Such was the case recently as I read in the book of John.
I was towards the end, in chapter 16. The picture here is a quite beautiful, intimate, yet somber, one. Jesus and His disciples are seated here, sharing their last evening together. He has washed their feet, served them the Passover supper. He is also fully aware of what is about to come. And so, He begins to teach, to pour out Truth to these beloved men He has walked with, eaten with, shared life with for the past three years.
The same men He is about to leave.
He gives them words of instruction, how to persevere through the trials they will soon face. He gives them words of encouragement, of hope at the coming of the Holy Spirit. He gives them words of assurance, that they can be confident as they abide in Him, the True Vine. His words are laced with love, peace, joy, and hope. But they are also laced with sadness, with sorrow.
And then He comes to share with them some of the hardest words, "A little while, and you will no longer see me..."
Huh? Come Again?
But He doesn't stop there: "... and again a little while, and you will see me."
They still didn't get it; the disciples were still confused.
So he goes further:
"Truly, truly I say to you, that you will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice; you will grieve, BUT your grief will be turned to joy."
Kind of ambiguous. He tells them that He is going to leave them, that they are going to be heartbroken, but that they will see him again, and their heartbreak become joyful. No specifics.
He does, however, offer a helpful analogy, just in case some of them still don't understand, don't grasp his message of hope:
"Whenever a woman is in labor she has pain, because her hour has come; but when she gives birth to the child, she no longer remembers the anguish because of the joy that a child has been born into the world."
Now, reading that a year ago, it meant very little to me. But now, having given birth to our beautiful baby Loran, I can completely understand. We gave birth naturally, without medicine, at the recommendation of our doctor in order to give us the best chance of meeting her. And I can tell you: the real deal hurts. Its excruciatingly painful. But the joy that you feel the moment you see your child in your arms, well, its makes it all pass away.
There is no comparison; the pain and suffering and the joy that comes are NOT equal.
The joy wins by a landslide.
And so it would be for the disciples. They would hurt, be devastated, be utterly broken as they watched their Savior, their Lord, their Friend, die a brutal, undeserved death.
BUT it doesn't end there.
Just as He promised, the joy came- He rose again! And what was a sorrowful event, became a joyful one, as they began to understand the necessity, the greater good that had come as a result.
So it has been with us. God has begun turning our sorrow into joy.
Though our story is no comparison to the triumph of the Cross, it has been beautiful to see how God's ability to bring light from darkness, beauty from ashes, good from evil, has proven true in our own lives.
The first few days and even first few months following Loran's passing were complete and utter sadness. We had peace, sure, but it hurt. Our hearts were devastated, crushed by the weight of deep, deep sorrow.
But slowly, over time God has transformed bits of that sorrow into joy.
Joy through Remembering. Remembering her moving around in the womb, remembering the sight of her face for the first time, holding her little hand. Remembering a hospital room filled with love and joy. Remembering the body of Christ pouring over us love and prayers. Remembering a peace that passed all understanding. But Joy also through Stories. Stories of how her life has impacted others. Stories of how others remember her. Stories of how her life helped others grow in their faith, in their love for the Lord. Stories of how others have been moved to give and do on her behalf. And our own Stories. Stories of how our own little family has been drawn closer, bonded so much deeper, become so much more open and loving, as we have walked through this together.
And so we have Joy. Not Happiness, not gladness that our daughter is gone. I miss her everyday.
But joy. Joy that God had bigger plans at work.
And we believe that one day, our sorrow will more fully become Joy, as we meet our Savior, and understand. And ALL of the sorrows of this Earthly life will pass away as we bow down before Him and Worship... maybe even alongside our sweet girl.
My deep, deep prayer is that if you are reading this, and you are experiencing any type of earthly sorrow that is beyond your control, that you would trust Him enough to ask Him to help you see how your sorrow can be made into joy as you glorify Him! Seek Him in His Word, Dwell on the Truth that is found there! Even as I write this, I am praying that God would continue to use our story to help bring His hope, His Joy into your life.
And now, I would like to share another way that our family has been granted joy...
We are expecting a little brother or sister for Lincoln, Truit, and Loran in June of 2016!
Thank you, all of you, who have prayed and continue to pray for us. We are so blessed.
God is SO Good.
Praying that you are reminded of the Joy of the Lord this Holiday Season!
Love,
The Hardemans
