“Father, if You are willing, remove this cup from me….”
It is the first line in a two-part prayer that has been known throughout history. Bearing the complete and desperate honesty of a Man who was experiencing absolute brokenness, this prayer reveals one who knew of the bitter cup from which He was about to drink. And like many similar prayers that have escaped the lips of others throughout the course of time, this agonizing part of His prayer was answered with silence. God said no.
I have a friend from college that I write letters with — old-fashioned, pen-and-paper, “snail mail” letters. We could talk on the phone, but because of where he lives, letters are the most preferable and convenient method of communication for us. Plus, who doesn't love to get a letter in the mail? Our letters are pretty infrequent, but that’s more because of my crazy life with three small children than anything else.
Several years ago, my friend went through a very painful and personal season of suffering, one in which the effects are still being felt today in his life. Trey and I grieved with my friend and supported him as best we could as he walked that difficult road. For years to come, my friend will wake up each morning with the reminder of that season of suffering, and I wonder if that the reminder might never go away for him. I hope it does, though. In the most recent letter I received from my friend, he divulged to me that he has walked away from his faith in Jesus.
We are officially one week into 2017!
By internet standards, this blog post is a day late and a dollar short. I must admit, though, that while the New Year is already old news to the blogosphere, I am barely finding the quiet moments needed to tread into that deeper place of my heart, dust off the cobwebs, and reflect on this past year as I also contemplate a new beginning. A fresh start. Another year.
“Love is patient, love is kind…”
First, a story.
Several weeks ago, I took our youngest daughter to her therapy appointments. Alisa is 12 months old, and she receives occupational therapy and physical therapy twice a week. Alisa also has Down syndrome.
Yesterday, Christians across the nation awoke with tempered spirits and broken hearts. For weeks and months on end, we have prayed for America and watched with bated breath. Yesterday, all of the unrest, the backbiting, the frustration, and the turmoil came to a head. What would be the culmination of what has been a most horrific display of corruption, immorality, and ugly politics? Who would “win”?
Of course, no one can feign ignorance, as the headlines are everywhere. Donald Trump has defeated Hillary Clinton in a surprising turn of events. Donald Trump is the 45th President-Elect of the United States of America.
We are quickly approaching Alisa’s first birthday, and the anticipation and excitement at our home is palpable. As with any time of celebration, I have been feeling rather nostalgic, reflecting on where we were one year ago and where we are now. I’ve found myself thinking frequently, “If only I knew then what I know today...” If only I could have written myself a letter to read on the day of her birth, with all of the insight and knowledge I have gained through this year of growth as Alisa's mom, what would I have said?
In celebration of her birth and with all the joy I have come to know through her life, I've written that letter below.
