Archive for October 21st, 2009

Cont’d, book review–sort of

A couple more things that struck me about the families in Mistaken Identity. Thoughts about dealing with adversity, and living up to expectations, and speaking highly of the dead…

  • They knew where there strength came from–the family that was preparing for the funeral–with an overwhelming amount of painful tasks to do in just a couple of days–took 2 full hours each day to worship God, read scripture and pray together before they faced the day.  2 hours!  No, they did NOT have time to do it, but they took the time (at their oldest daughters insistence) and they did more in the remaining hours of the day then they could have w/o being firmly planted in the Lord’s presence.
  • God is in the whisper–When Whitney (the only surviving student in the accident) had recovered, everyone said to her “Oh, God, must have BIG plans for you”.  It scared her to think that now the expectation for her life was unrealistic.   Somebody shared with her the story of Elijah in I Kings 19.  While Elijah was waiting for God, there was an earthquake, but God was not in the earthquake.  Then there came a fire, but God was not in the fire.  Then there came a gentle whisper–and there God was.  So, she reasoned, why couldn’t she bring God glory in the gentle whispers of her life.  It doesn’t have to be some GRAND extravagant gesture…but just being faithful and obedient in a quiet way is enough.

**Short side note that will likely make me sound like a callous jerk–but is NOT meant that way at all!–Why do people always talk about the deceased, esp. children, as if they were saints or angels?  I’m sure it’s probably something in our human nature that death causes us to see the lives of those that have died in a overly positive light.   But reading some glowing description of the deceased usually takes me down a road of self-evaluation, i.e., what would people say about me?  what would I say about my children?  And usually I come up short.  and so do my children.    I’m just sayin’ that I hate reading about dead perfect children.  Why doesn’t God ever take home some of the naughty children?  Ok, I think I’ve crossed a line and I need to stop.  Maybe I am a callous jerk.  yikes.

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