Joined in God - Sorrow and Joy

Joined in God

"As sorrowful, yet always rejoicing" (2 Cor. 6:10). Sorrow was beautiful, but her beauty was the beauty of the moonlight shining through the leafy branches of the trees in the wood, and making little pools of silver here and there on the soft green moss below.

When Sorrow sang, her notes were like the low sweet call of the nightingale, and in her eyes was the unexpectant gaze of one who has ceased to look for coming gladness. She could weep in tender sympathy with those who weep, but to rejoice with those who rejoice was unknown to her.

Joy was beautiful, too, but his was the radiant beauty of the summer morning. His eyes still held the glad laughter of childhood, and his hair had the glint of the sunshine's kiss. When Joy sang his voice soared upward as the lark's, and his step was the step of a conqueror who has never known defeat. He could rejoice with all who rejoice, but to weep with those who weep was unknown to him.

"But we can never be united," said Sorrow wistfully. "No, never." And Joy's eyes shadowed as he spoke. "My path lies through the sunlit meadows, the sweetest roses bloom for my gathering, and the blackbirds and thrushes await my coming to pour forth their most joyous lays." "My path," said Sorrow, turning slowly away, "leads through the darkening woods, with moon-flowers only shall my hands be filled. Yet the sweetest of all earth-songs--the love song of the night--shall be mine; farewell, Joy, farewell."

Even as she spoke they became conscious of a form standing beside them; dimly seen, but of a Kingly Presence, and a great and holy awe stole over them as they sank on their knees before Him. "I see Him as the King of Joy," whispered Sorrow, "for on His Head are many crowns, and the nailprints in His hands and feet are the scars of a great victory. Before Him all my sorrow is melting away into deathless love and gladness, and I give myself to Him forever."

"Nay, Sorrow," said Joy softly, "but I see Him as the King of Sorrow, and the crown on His head is a crown of thorns, and the nailprints in His hands and feet are the scars of a great agony. I, too, give myself to Him forever, for sorrow with Him must be sweeter than any joy that I have known."

"Then we are one in Him," they cried in gladness, "for none but He could unite Joy and Sorrow." Hand in hand they passed out into the world to follow Him through storm and sunshine, in the bleakness of winter cold and the warmth of summer gladness, "as sorrowful yet always rejoicing."

"Should Sorrow lay her hand upon thy shoulder, And walk with thee in silence on life's way, While Joy, thy bright companion once, grown colder, Becomes to thee more distant day by day? Shrink not from the companionship of Sorrow, She is the messenger of God to thee; And thou wilt thank Him in His great tomorrow For what thou knowest not now, thou then shalt see; She is God's angel, clad in weeds of night, With 'whom we walk by faith and not by sight.'"

Streams in the Desert February 19

Tsunami

Tsunami of Emotion and Understanding

"Are you still holding on to your integrity? Curse God and die!"
Job 2:9

This week, I came across a story that is all at once heartbreaking and hope-giving, tragic and uplifting, devastating and determined.

This excellent article by the International Mission Board's Shawn Hendricks chronicles what has happened to and through one Christian family on India's east coast since the tsunamis of late 2004. I encourage you to check it out. If you do, it will effectively function as your devotional for today much better than what I am about to write in response to it.

In a real-world account of events straight from the Book of Job, Paramesvaran and Choodamani lost all three of their children the day after Christmas that year. My heart breaks for families who lose one child, much less three. Imagine having lost one of them who was in your arms but who you were just not strong enough to hold on to against the crushing force of so much water.

Imagine being mocked by your friends and family for your faith while you are suffering such tragedy and burying your own offspring.

Imagine being so full of grief you discuss a suicide pact.

But then... eventually... the clouds lift, first for one spouse who is gifted by a word from the Lord about the blessing that her husband survived when so many others did not. Then, later, the husband feels the tugging of the Lord letting him know that his children are safe with Jesus, they're okay, they're full of praise and life.

The real, personable, meaningful faith in God pulls the couple up, and back together. They are blessed with two new children. But beyond that...

...the fact they are alive and together allows them to become adoptive parents to TWENTY orphaned children. Each of them has come to a saving relationship with Jesus, several helping their new father preach the gospel throughout the area.

The example of the family, assisted by donations of Christians around the world, has "brought the Good News into areas that were once unreceptive to Christianity."

The ends of things are truly never known until later. Purpose is often invisible until it isn't. Damaging floods can become cleansing baptisms through the passage of time and reflections from fresh perspectives.

Job refused to curse God and die. He instead decided ultimately to acknowledge that nothing he ever had was his, and that the only thing worth living for was the knowledge that God is awesome, powerful, and beyond our comprehension. And yet, loves us beyond measure.

His story is not just a fable or morality tale. It can seem that way to our modern ears, which are unaccustomed to the reality of THAT much tragedy. But that much tragedy occurs all too frequently around our globe, and when it does, it should not shock me to the extent it did when I read this story. I feel like I should nod knowingly about the cost and fragility of life on this big blue ball, and how despite all the shaking and quaking there can still be a steady security when I give up any notions that I am god, that I am in control, that my job is to do anything with my time here but praise and share, worship and help, live and move and be every minute that he allows.

May God continue to bless the ministry of Paramesvaran and Choodamani, and increase the strength in them that was built from climbing out of their tragic valley. May I not complain today about events that matter not. May I continue to see God's hand in everything as long as I have eyes to take it all in. And should I or my loved ones suffer anywhere close to this much, may we never forget this example of coming out the other side reborn, making ministry from the madness.


by Shawn McEvoy, of Crosswalk

Wednesday, March 2, 2011


Note : Really, any death in the family always hits you like a tsunami. You may be unprepared or you may think you are prepared, no one can ever say that he is totally equipped to face the full impact of that tsunami when it hits him how matter how much you steel yourself up emotionally and mentally. The aftermath of the tsunami - the devastation, the carnage, the loss, the sorrow, the grief, and eventually the time for reconstruction is something one will need to live through.

Being in Job's shoes is not easy. Job has taught us how to deal with adversity. It is easy to allow our faith to be swept away together with everything else by the tsunami of calamity. Job’s wasn’t.

MT
4 March 2011