DISAPPOINTMENTS – PART 2

Should we accept only good things from the hand of God and never anything bad? Job 2:10 (NLT)

I have just experienced a profound disappointment – not something that will alter my life forever – but it has been, nevertheless a great disappointment. I’ve worked on a project for almost nine months and have anticipated its fulfillment only to find that at this point I can no longer be involved.

For nine months I worked with great joy. I researched. I made new friends and acquaintances. I studied and learned so much, and in the final moments, I have discovered that this really good thing has been denied me.  I am Moses looking across at the Promised Land but being denied entrance.

Just like you in times of distress, I have prayed; I have remembered and quoted favorite scripture promises; and I have trusted. As the culmination of the work was getting nearer, the intensity of my prayers (like yours) has increased. And yet, it has become increasingly clear that I was an instrument for planting and watering; others would reap the harvest.

A few days prior to our final group meeting on this project, I read Job 2:10 (above), and it spoke to me. Sometimes God says no even to good things, and accepting his closed doors is as important to our discipleship as rejoicing in his yes-es. Peace has accompanied me, and I am joyful in knowing that there are those who will perform this ministry faithfully, and I may some day participate in the results of their labor. Do I still feel a bit wistful about not finishing with my team? Absolutely. But I trust God’s wisdom and know his plans for me are always good. And I know that this disappointment is nothing compared to the numberless times and blessings that have already come my way.

I once heard someone say, “Disappointment is God’s appointment.” I accept this appointment and stand on tiptoes to see what he will do next.

Father, bless my team who will proceed without me. I pray that you will do through them more than any of us can think or ask. In Jesus’ name. AMEN.

HELLO, GOLI

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)
I was sitting in my living room with my mom and pastor. We were completing the arrangements for my husband’s memorial service. I’d selected Scripture passages, hymns, and friends to read. There was one final thing that was most significant to me.

“I want my friend Debbie who’s chair of the University music department to sing I Know That My Redeemer Liveth from Messiah. It’s a beautiful statement of faith, and I know Peter would have liked it,” I told Momo and my pastor. With that settled, my pastor prepared to leave.

And then Helen came in. “Marthe, the bishop has a conflict for our upcoming trip to Uganda, and he’d like to know if you can go?”

Without pausing for breath, Momo said, “She can go.” Just like that. Without asking me or without thinking twice. And that’s how I made my first diocesan mission trip.

Goli, our mission base, is a beautiful little village stuck off in a remote corner of northwestern Uganda. One does not accidentally arrive in Goli. It is too far off the beaten track. Standing on Prayer Mountain and looking north, the mountains of Sudan are visible. Looking west, the jungles of Congo are within a few short miles. The Nile is not far from Goli and offered protection from the Lord’s Resistance Army in past years.

On that first visit I noticed that electricity hadn’t yet reached this remote outpost nor had indoor plumbing. Most of the floors were dirt, and the houses had beautifully thatched roofs. Community buildings were constructed of cinder block with concrete floors. Although the people of Goli lived far below the international standard of poverty, they were some of the richest people I had ever met.

Our small team of six traveled up and down the Nebbi Diocese for three weeks over red dirt roads pitted with holes large enough to swallow small animals or do serious damage to vehicles. We saw school children in lively memory verse contests, spoke at countless village churches, conducted Bible studies, visited women’s groups, met local missionaries, and made friends.

The Sunday before we left was Easter. It was not lost on me that my first Easter without Peter found me on the mission field among scores of new friends who loved Jesus as much as we did. After the first service at the village “cathedral” the Korean missionary, Sister Kim, invited us to brunch at her house. We stood in a circle, holding hands for the blessing. As soon as we finished, Sister Kim reached over to a shelf and pushed the button on a battery-powered tape recorder. Out of the small plastic machine rolled the words, “I know that my redeemer liveth…”

Coincidence? British composition on a recorder played by a Korean missionary in a modest unelectrified home for American missioners in a tiny African village. Hardly a coincidence. Instantly, I knew God had a plan for me, to give me, a newly minted widow, a future and a hope. What the future held, I had no idea, but I knew God was already there opening the door. Peter’s death was not the end of my life. One era had ended; a new one through Christ had begun.

Hello, Goli.

Sweet Lord, you do walk with us through the valley of the shadow to take us through to the other side. And I know that your plans are beyond anything we can think of or imagine. THANK YOU. AMEN.

MORE LITTLE THINGS

For God speaks in one way, and in two… Job 33:14 (ESV)

I am convinced that God is communicating all the time; we don’t always have our receivers turned on or we don’t perceive the message as coming from him.

Do you remember Tolstoy’s story of Martin Avdeitch who dreamed Jesus would appear to him the following day? The next morning Martin saw Stepanich shoveling snow and invited him in for a warm drink and told him about Jesus. Later, he saw a young woman with a baby shivering in the cold. He brought them in, gave them clothes, food, and money and told them about Jesus. Then he saw a boy stealing from an old lady. He settled their argument and gave love and compassion to them both.

That night as Martin grieved because God had not visited him as expected, the people he had helped appeared to him. That’s when he realized that God had indeed been present with him. He just hadn’t recognized him in his various shapes.

This weekend I was working in another city and discovered I had inadvertently left my pajamas at home. My team and I made a side trip to the local WalMart where I grabbed and paid for a colorful set of nightclothes with writing all over them. It was not until I was folding them later that I read the message, “All is well.”

Today would have been my mother’s ninety-first birthday. Every time I visited with her during her last year, she proclaimed to me, “All is well.” Thanks, Momo, for reminding me that our Father still reigns, and he still speaks.

Lord, open our ears, our eyes, our hearts to receive you however you wish to make yourself known. In Jesus’ name. AMEN.