Monday, May 17, 2010

Update 5/16/10 27 weeks since crash

Dear friends,

My daughter was at her friend’s house this evening, and called to ask if she could watch the movie Titanic. Now that she’s 15, we decided to let her see it. But I wrestled with the whole idea, even after the decision had been made. She’s seen enough disaster this year. Still, there’s no escaping the reality of sudden change and the risks we take walking out our front door every morning. Ultimately, our times are in God’s hands. That’s not a license to be an idiot, but it does lend perspective to the unpredictable nature of life.

I remember the first and only time I saw Titanic. One scene that will be forever burned in my mind was of the magnificently posh dining room after the great Atlantic began flooding the ship. All the stunning china, the beautiful linens, the fantastically expensive furniture, and every other signpost of wealth represented there was shown crashing from cabinets, floating on debris filled water and losing all its value in a split second. That evening when I pondered that scene, it was as if the Great One was speaking to me saying “Don’t call that which is worthless, precious.” A few hours later, most of the people on the Titanic were dead, frozen or drowned when the ship that “even God couldn’t sink”, sunk. I’m quite sure they couldn’t have cared less about their fancy dining room then. Life was immediately and brutally brought into its right alignment. What matters is relationship. With God. With people. Period.

It was 27 weeks ago when those values most precious to me were threatened. I can tell you all the things I was worried about at 6:00 didn’t matter at 6:30. I’m determined to keep that perspective, but I can’t tell you I don’t still struggle with the whole thing. Anxiety is kind of built into my DNA, and is one of the dark streaks to my personality. It takes a daily walk with a Mighty God to work through the mess inside my head. But I’ve come a long way. Every bit of the credit goes to the One and Only, who won’t let me stay the way I am. But good grief, there are still many miles to go…

This week will take many turns along the road. The wake and funeral of dear Judy Whitbeck. A trip to my hometown in Massachusetts to visit my sweet Aunt Evie (86 years old and full of faith!) Stephen’s pre admission testing for next week’s surgery. A little overdue anniversary fun. What a mixed bag living is! And as we have all seen in stark relief, it’s wildly unpredictable. So we make our plans, but remember:

Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to such and such a city, spend a year there, buy and sell, and make a profit”; whereas you do not know what will happen tomorrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapor that appears for a little time and then vanishes away. Instead you ought to say, “If the Lord wills, we shall live and do this or that.” James 4:13-15

I really don’t mean this to sound pessimistic, only to share what I’m learning. That is this: We are really all on the Titanic, only we don’t know when it’s going down. The main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing. Thankfully, the Great One is there with us. He’s the lifeboat. Hang on tight.

By the way, Hannah Rejoice wound up skipping the movie. Whew.

Your friend on the pilgrim road,



Barbara said...

Hi Loriann.......I think anxiety is part of every Mother's life. Please don't be too hard on yourself. Enjoy your time off from concerns. It will help to refresh your soul.
Love, Barbara

johandav said...

Thanks Barbara! I think you're right. It comes with the territory.

I appreciate your love an concern for me across the cyber miles. I'm sending it right back at you, friend!


Larry T said...

I saw "Titanic" in a movie theater in NYC. A lady seated directly in front of me cried and cried throughout. When it was over and the lights came on, it was revealed to me that the lady was none other than Mary Tyler Moore. It's an amazing movie about an incredible story. Imagine... the decaying remains of the ship still haunt the deepest parts of the cold ocean floor. And in time, those remains will disintegrate. Works in stone, in paint, in print, are spared, some of them, for a few decades or a millennium or two, but everything must finally wear away into the ultimate and universal ash. It's a fact of life: we're going to die. "Be of good heart," cry the dead artists out of the living past. "Our songs will all be silenced, but what of it?...

Go on singing."

Tiffany Ann said...

All that matters is eternity....we're walking in the beginning of it now! The Titanic reminds me to "live like we're dying" and to boldly declare the Truth of Christ to all who are sinking in sin. May God's Spirit empower me, and all of His children, to do so! I love you, LoriAnn!