Welcome

This blog is my record of my journey with my son who had a rare, and eventually fatal metabolic illness. It is the story of the last year and a half of his life, his death, and after. I have shared this journey this in the hopes that is will not only help me come to terms with the realities, but also that someone along the way may find it helpful, as they face a similar journey.







This is my place to comment on events, blow off steam, encourage myself (and maybe you), share frustrations, show my love, grieve my losses, express my hopes, and if I am lucky, maybe figure out some of this crazy place we call life on earth.





The content might sometimes get a little heavy. As an understatement..







WARNING:







People who are grieving may write sad or difficult things and bring you down. This blog may not be for the faint of stomach or of heart. Read with caution and at your own risk.





If you are new to this blog, I suggest reading it from oldest to newest. It isn't necessary, as what I write is complete in itself. But this blog is sort of the result of the "journey" I'm going on, and I think it sort of "flows" better from oldest to newest.



I do hope that in the end you will find, in spite of all the difficult and heartbreaking things, things that are worth contemplating.





Welcome along!





Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Sacrifice

(Before I really start, here is a little note for my MiL, who is likely really worried due to my last blog about Joel. And anyone else whose still wondering. Joel's arm still appears fine. He was mostly happy today, with one fussy period. So don't worry too much. It's all status quo around here. And now on to the blog.)

Sacrifice: noun voluntary relinquishing of something valued; thing thus relinquished; loss entailed; slaughter of animal, or person, or surrender of possession, as offering to deity; animal, person, or thing thus offered.
verb give up; to devote to; offer or kill as sacrifice.

Yup. Sacrifice. A serious sort of word. A serious sort of concept.

Dare I say this? Joel is a sacrifice I make everyday to God. Don't be offended before you hear what I say.

I don't mean that I'm "slaughtering" Joel as an offering to God, or that I'm "allowing" Him to take Joel as some sort of means to garner His approval. Not at all. I've said it many times, if I could, I'd cure Joel in a flash. But I have no say in this particular matter. And God does not demand my suffering to "pay" for anything. He's already covered all debts and expenses Himself, and at a tremendous personal cost, I'd like to add.

I suppose in a way what I am sacrificing when I say that I sacrifice Joel is really my reactions to it all. I sacrifice my reactions. I already wrote about how it was a surrender. A surrender, and a sacrifice. I'm giving this whole thing over to You, God. All my tears, struggles, the sick feelings in the pit of my stomach, the aching loss and longing for a different future. It's something I'm giving to God, to let HIM use, instead of trying to deal with it on my own, or hold on to it angrily like a very shabby coat.

Let me explain it from a different angle. There is a verse in Hebrews that says "Therefore by Him (Jesus) let us continually offer the sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of our lips, giving thanks to His name."

In fact, it has been made into a song, "We bring the sacrifice of praise, into the house of the Lord..." A bright, chipper sort of song. To go with the praise idea, not the sacrifice part.

Not to say that a sacrifice made up of praise shouldn't be joyful. I mean, doesn't the concept of praise go hand in hand with joyful? Well, sometimes. We usually praise God very joyfully through music during a church service. That's one way to do it, and there is nothing wrong with that. Especially if you are thinking in terms of the verb, to devote to.

Even before Joel came along, that song made me think, though. Because sometimes praise is easy and flows out of our happy contented circumstances mixed with uplifting music, driven by the gratitude we naturally feel for all the good things we have. That is one kind of praise. It's really the most basic kind. It sure does have value, I mean, it's the sort of praise that is sort of owed in every way, no? If we don't manage at least this much, then are we not UNgrateful?

But praise is sometimes NOT easy. And it is not always a song. Praise can be SAID. Like when we extol someones virtues. When we go on and on about someone we admire. Bottom line, praise is saying (or singing) the things we admire about something/one, it is listing the good or especially the excellent.

So when I sing this song in church, I invariably think of how praise so often is truly a sacrifice. It costs something. Sometimes life is hard, and praising is hard too. Sometimes, as I know only too well myself, there is pain, anguish, loss, suffering. Praise then takes on a whole new meaning. Then that cheerful little song that we sometimes (dare I say this?) sing a bit glibly, or maybe just a bit comfortably takes on a different tune. It is sad. Almost dirge-like.

I suppose some might feel that praise offered with a heavy heart isn't just quite "there." It might be easy to feel that if your praise is coming from a sad and weary heart, it is merely hypocrisy, and not much of an offering to God.

I think that's a bit off. Here's my explanation. Sometimes Steve really shines as a husband. Sometimes there are extravagant gifts. Praise for my blog (yeah, I like that one). Gentleness when I'm tired or frustrated. At those times I feel overwhelmed with gratitude and love. "I love you" I say to Steve freely and with great emotion.

But sometimes it's a bit different. Sometimes Steve has struck out. (sorry, hon, am I being too candid? You know I know I strike out just as often) Let's just say I am less than pleased with him. And sometimes I say "I love you" through teeth that are slightly clenched, and a bit more like I'm reminding myself of something.

And you know what? That is when it counts most. Right? Real love isn't blowing dandelion fluff in a summer meadow. That's a commercial for fabric softener. Real love is a (sometimes grim) determination, more like the tough steel cables holding up a bridge, to stick by someone even when it's 20 below zero, the heat's off, and SOMEBODY LOST your coat.

And that is when praise really counts too. Even if you have to say it without a lot of enthusiasm ringing in your voice. Even if you are saying, like Job, "though He slay me, I will trust Him." I sincerely doubt Job was singing when he said that.

Sometimes my praise is said, not sung. It's the simple statement that even though I hurt deeply and profoundly, I still think God is good. I can even add "all the time." I still know that He loves me. I still know that life with Him in it is something so precious that I'd never give that up. God is amazing.

Even when I can't sing it, I have hope, maybe even confidence, that God finds my offering of praise beautiful. That it might even be precious and valuable to Him.

There is a story in the Old Testament about King David. I'm not going in to all the details here, but David was about to offer a sacrifice to God. And this guy, Araunah, told him he'd give him the wood and oxen to sacrifice. (Don't tell the PETA!) David insisted on paying him for it. He said he wouldn't offer to God a sacrifice that COST HIM NOTHING.

And sometimes when it is really hard to sacrifice and sometimes when it is really hard to praise because it feels like my heart is so dry and barren, my mouth is glued, and my lips are stuck together, I say to myself, I will NOT offer to God sacrifices that cost me NOTHING. Here is my sacrifice God. It is the best I have, and it cost me something. God is good, all the time.

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