ROOTED RENEGADE

I am sitting here staring at a plate with the left over remnants of a turkey avocado sandwich with the sourdough crust still left, an uneaten dill pickle, an empty water cup, a 1/4 cup full iced coffee with half and half (Columbian coffee actually), and an unopened bag of sea salt potato chips. A few napkins are still neatly stacked on the table and the used ones are on the plate. Admittedly, even after eating, I like to clean up my mess the best I can so my table isn’t too chaotic. I like order in my life now. The gray areas seem to be a bit messy. Quite a bit of shadows hide in those areas. I tend to stay where I know I can see and analyze what is going on around me, even if there are times I am unable to change the immediate circumstances. I have learned to change my lens from seeing the glass 1/2 or even 1/4 empty to full, because life is truly about perspective and the lens through which you see the world and every situation needs to be clean from time to time, not matter how big or small. People are people, broken and all. I know how I got here. By God’s grace. I know how that was. How I sat in this seat. On this day. July 9, 2022. At 2:22pm. I can recall most of it. I can say that this one hits different than the other losses. Life is reality. So is death. Just in different ways.

For this day, I was more prepared in some ways. Unlike in times past I had two weeks to prepare my heart and mind to sit at the memorial and go over feelings, emotions, thoughts, regrets, and the like, before ever driving down the roads that led to the church. You know, the ones where people gather to say their final goodbyes, respectfully. Regardless of how a person may or may not have lived their life. Regardless of how they may or may not have treated that person. Regardless of how that person may or may not have treated them. One often thinks of respect as something earned until it comes to death – most times.

The theme of many funerals and memorials is regret for the loss of time and lapse of time. It is a trait of families that seems to have become far too common. Mine is no exception. Various things happen. Many of us were never taught to be nuclear family or how to even be healthy siblings. Let’s face it, some of us were never taught how to be healthy parents. Division in families can cause deep roots of unforgiveness and resentments and families. Pain in addiction and abuse further those divides. Families may not be supportive through hard times. People may run away from the drama and abuse. These are all ways that families, even mine, are divided and destroyed from the inside out.

Satan found many ways to destroy God’s plans and purposes for the family to remain whole – for a season.

If you know anything about God, then you know He works in seasons while the enemy works in cycles. For those willing to break the cycles and step out of the torment of the enemy, they find that cycles no longer exist, but seasons come to an end as new ones begin. While they never look like what they imagined them, it always, always looks like what God planned through all the muck and the mire (Psalm 40:1-3).

While death is painful, hard, and for others it can be difficult to wrap their minds around. It is a pain that only the Holy Spirit can provide true comfort through. Even sitting here writing this I am starkly reminded at the fragility of life and how precious my little brother was. Regardless of his mistakes, his life was valuable. “For all have sinned and fall short of the Glory of God” (Romans 3:23). Imperfect people never getting to live in the freedom that is deeply promised throughout The Holy Bible. I am reminded deeply of wanting time back I will never have with him. I know I will never be able to tell him how much I loved him now. That time has passed. It had been 12 years June 30th since I had seen him and he died June 22nd.

Time. It is precious. It is fleeting. There are seasons according to Ecclessiates 3:1-3 which says: “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to be born and a time to die, a time plant and a time to uproot…”

I learned a lot about seasons and the timing of God even as I sat in the church waiting on my other younger brother and little sister to arrive. While no one had seen me in 12 years through circumstances and separation…the season had come for reconciliation. God is not slow to keep his promises. It is done in his timing. It was the time and it is the season to uproot what the enemy has done to create division. You and I can both do that with love. Love tears down every wall and begins to reconcile relationships. It is not easy. While death should not be what brings people back together, sometimes it is.

So, does death have the final say? Absolutely not! Death may be final in the land of the living for the person who has passed. For the people who are still living, it is no the final say. That is up to you. If you stop living and let grief consume you and completely stop living – that is death having the final say in your life. You process grief. You go through the stages of grief. You allow the Holy Spirit to come into those places where a void was left – ALL OF THEM. You can’t get back lost time. You can’t control time. What you can do, is live. You can live and not let your life be wasted and consumed by death. The pain in your heart will take time to heal. That is a part of the process of healing. Let it heal. Be reconciled back to Jesus and allow your heart to mend. Don’t let the wound stay open. Death never has the final say!

The choice is yours! I chose life and I hope you do too!

May God bless and keep you. May His face shine upon you during this journey. May His love cover you and His shalom overwhelm you as you go through the healing process.

Faythe