James 3

James 3:1-12

One way to get James’s point across about taming the tongue is to squeeze a tube of toothpaste out onto a table and ask onlookers to put the paste back into the tube.

You can’t.

And that’s why the tongue has the power to destroy far worse than most people realize.  The words you say, once you say them, can’t be pushed back—they are out there—loose—out of your control and able to either heal and build up, or destroy and bring death. 

Never underestimate it.

Let’s turn to the Word to see what James actually says about it.

First, let’s recap what the book of James is about, and what was in the first two chapters—before we begin chapter 3.

Who wrote James?

James was the brother of Jesus.  He died in 62AD so this must have been before then.  Also, this is not one of the two James that were two of the first 12 disciples of Jesus.  James was the leader of the original church in Jerusalem. 

Chapter 1

In the first chapter, James talks about trials and how we should consider them joy because when you react to a trial with patience, you get a successful experience behind you.  You now have hope of knowing you can lean on God again through the next trial.

Chapter 2

Here James stretches us because he tells us that without works, faith is dead.  That’s a head scratcher, because Paul always teaches that grace is sufficient, and that it’s not by works that we are saved.  What James teaches here is that, great, you’re saved, but what good are you to the purpose of bringing others to Christ if you have faith without works?  You might as well be dead.

Chapter 3

Here James goes into one aspect of extending your faith into your works—the mouth.  Remember James already told us that trials are good for testing and improving your patience, and then he already told us that faith without works is dead.  So now he will tells us about controlling the tongue.  That makes sense, because when satan tempts you by hurling a trial at you, aren’t you tempted to lash out with the tongue?  How?

How about these four ways?

Gossip

Insults

Complaining

Cussing

Let’s give examples of these four, and see who’s brave enough to admit examples when we’ve been guilty of them.  Because gossip is one of the four, we’ll practice not gossiping in this group by only discussing what we ourselves have done, not anyone else’s faults.

·      (take time to allow anyone who wants to share—as the leader, be prepared to have my own examples that can be used if the group is too afraid to share theirs—usually someone will step up and share because they all know we’ve all done these things at one time or another)

·      Allow the person to share how it hurt other people or themselves to do it – how they regretted it later – think of the toothpaste

·      The purpose here is to get the group to open up and have everyone see that we are all guilty of thee things and all need to learn about controlling the tongue

These examples are examples we’re return to as we go through James’s words here.

Verse 1

1 Not many of you should become teachers, my fellow believers, because you know that we who teach will be judged more strictly.

Teachers have to be held to a tougher standard because they can end up teaching something that totally conflicts with the Bible and lead you astray.  As your life group leader I prepare and pray before teaching—any small issue you need clarification on you check with Billy.

Verse 2

2 We all stumble in many ways. Anyone who is never at fault in what they say is perfect, able to keep their whole body in check.

James is about to go into the taming of the tongue.  Here he’s saying how if you can keep your tongue under control, then you know you’ve got everything else in check (because the tongue is so hard to control)

Verses 3-6

Here James gives three descriptions of how powerful the tongue is a reeking evil.  These examples are the bits in a horse’s mouth, the rudder of a ship, and a small spark in a forest.  Each small but has huge impact. 

How about this beautiful girl?

Do you know how some peoples’ tongues drove her to take her own life? 

So let’s go through the horse, the ship, and the forest examples…

The horse – verse 3

 3 When we put bits into the mouths of horses to make them obey us, we can turn the whole animal.

Look how small a bit is…

The ship - Verse 4

4 Or take ships as an example. Although they are so large and are driven by strong winds, they are steered by a very small rudder wherever the pilot wants to go.

The spark in a forest - Verses 5 and 6

5 Likewise, the tongue is a small part of the body, but it makes great boasts. Consider what a great forest is set on fire by a small spark. 6 The tongue also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole body, sets the whole course of one’s life on fire, and is itself set on fire by hell.

Verse 7 and 8 tells us how the tongue is more wild than creatures

7 All kinds of animals, birds, reptiles and sea creatures are being tamed and have been tamed by mankind, 8 but no human being can tame the tongue. It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison.

Verse 9-12 talks about the source of what comes out of our mouths—comparing praise and cursing to fresh and salt water—if the heart is Godly, it’s impossible for both to come from the same mouth.  Then comparing it to olives and grapes – the fruit matches the plant

 9 With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse human beings, who have been made in God’s likeness. 10 Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers and sisters, this should not be. 11 Can both fresh water and salt water flow from the same spring? 12 My brothers and sisters, can a fig tree bear olives, or a grapevine bear figs? Neither can a salt spring produce fresh water.

 Worksheet

Gossip

Insults

Complaining

Cussing

What’s the story?

Was the tongue controlled or not?

What resulted?

Ho did the rudder steer the ship?  Or the bit steer the horse?  Or the spark start a forest fire?

What was the source?  What spring did the words come from?  Or plant?

What if it was handled the opposite way? What could have been the result?

Ho did the rudder steer the ship?  Or the bit steer the horse?  Or the spark start a forest fire?

What was the source?  What spring did the words come from?  Or plant?

Quick notes on James Chapter 2

The source is http://www.bibletrack.org. 

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Recall some background

Who wrote James?

James was the brother of Jesus.  He died in 62AD so this must have been before then.  Also, this is not one of the two James that were two of the first 12 disciples of Jesus.  James was the leader of the original church in Jerusalem. 

Chapter 1

Do you recall what chapter 1 was about

Verses 1-2 trial and temptation – how Satan uses trials to tempt us to react.
 

Verses 3-5 - James ties the trial to the development of patience. When you react with patience, you get a successful experience behind you.  You now have hope of knowing you can lean on God again through the next trial.

Verses 6-8 - correct prayer is “God, show me whether it’s what you want for me, and if it’s not what you want from me, give me the heart change to adjust my will to yours.”

Verses 9-11  -If you are poor (if you have trials), be proud of the eternal wealth you have.  And if you are rich, be humbled by the fact that these rewards are temporary, not eternal.  And be careful you don’t fade away into it—don’t become stingy with your money.

Verse 12 - What is he talking about with the crown of life?  So if you endure the temptation by not reacting badly to a temptation of a trial, you will receive a crown of life!

Verses 13-15 - Trial verses chastisement. Satan brings trials – God allows it to test—like Job. God will allow the consequences of the sin to bring chastisement.

James Chapter 2

What does it mean to be saved?

So, if  you are saved – can anyone take that away from you?

John 10:27-29

27 My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. 28 I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one will snatch them out of my hand. 29 My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all[a]; no one can snatch them out of my Father’s hand.

So, once you’re saved you’re always saved.

So, why be obedient?  Why not do whatever you want… after all, you can’t lose your salvation, right?

Here’s the thing… when you’re saved, you’re given the Holy Spirit which dwells within you, and the evidence of that Holy Spirit are the fruit of the Spirit- (Galatians 5:16-26)

Since you know a Believer by her fruit, The Holy Spirit protects you from falling into bad behaviors like in James Verses 1-13 – talks about setting the bar high on how you treat each other – respect for each other  - respect to God

Some people read those verses and think- wow- that’s setting the bar too high. But remember, when you’re saved, you can lean on the Holy Spirit to help you meet that bar.

The natural tendency for the saved person leaning on the Holy Spirit is to want to do good works.

And that’s how the world knows us.  From our Fruit

James 2:14 – So what good is it to have faith if you don’t have good deeds?   -- what’s James saying?

James 2:15-16 – Have you ever said to someone, “I’m so sorry- I’ll pray for you.”  Ho hum.  What good are you?

James 2:17 – James is being pretty strong in his answer – What good are you with faith without deeds—dead.

James 2:18-19-  Demons know God---and shutter – this is real – so real that… - Calling on Christ when scared

James 2:20-24 – Abraham

Compare to Romans  4:1-5 on Abraham

James 2:25-26 RAhab

Notes on James Chapter 1

From time to time, I prepare for a bible study on certain portions of the Bible. I like to place these notes up on my blog for future reference. Last week I led a group of middle school girls through the first chapter of James.

I had asked the girls to read this chapter a few verses at a time last week.  See who has.  I received an email from Kailie saying she read them through twice.  Meagan Smith is someone who has been contacting me through fb and missed last week but for months has been saying she can't wait to get back to life group.  

I had asked the girls to each come up with either a funny embarrassing experience they are willing to share or a struggle or trial they've experienced they are willing to share.  This can get discussions on James Chapter 1 started.  By the way--I must show the source where I gain much of the insight that's presented here…  http://www.bibletrack.org. 

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Who wrote James?

 

James was the brother of Jesus.  He died in 62AD so this must have been before then.  Also, this is not one of the two James that were two of the first 12 disciples of Jesus.  James was the leader of the original church in Jerusalem. 

 

Verse 1

This letter is written to all Jewish people who chose to follow Christ at that time.

 

Verse 2

Read the King James version—if you notice, it says temptations, but in the NIV it says trials. Why are both of these translations correct?  Because what James is talking about is how through presenting us difficult situations and struggles, Satan is trying to tempt us into having a horrible reaction which will displease God.  Can you describe a trial recently where you have felt tempted to react in a why that would displease God?

 

Verses 3-4

Patience.  What does it mean?  In these two verses, James ties the trial to the development of patience.  In verse 4 he describes how patience leads to you learning to want nothing.  That’s contentment in accepting only what the Lord wills for you to have.

 

Verse 5

Here James is explaining how the trials lead to growth.  It’s because when trials are endured by asking God for wisdom, you grow.  It’s important to check out Romans 5:2-4 here because it’s a road map of how a trial brings you through some important steps of maturity – tribulation—patience—experience—hope.   I think of this… When a trial happens and you learn not to react sinfully (don’t lash out, don’t escape by gossiping, giving in to a guy, giving in to peer pressure), you are teaching yourself patience and you get a successful experience behind you.  You now have hope of knowing you can lean on God again through the next trial. In verse 5, he explains how you should seek wisdom in your trail. It’s the wisdom through that patter of trial-patience-experience-hope that helps you lean on God and His will. Here he says if you don’t have wisdom ask for it and it will be given.

 

 

Verses 6-8

Right after telling you to ask for wisdom, James goes into what correct prayer is.  It’s with wisdom. It’s with first asking God for what His will in the matter is, and then syncing up your will with His.  Then whatever you ask for, will be granted. Ask yourself what James means by double-minded.  It means “Oh God, please help me make the cheerleading squad” when you’re not really sure if God wants you to be on the cheerleading squad—like, who’s wisdom in the matter are you leaning on?  Are you using your own ideas, or God’s?  Have you asked Him for His will in the matter first?  Can you pray, God, show me whether it’s what you want for me, and if it’s not what you want from me, give me the heart change to adjust my will to yours.

 

Verses 9-11

At first glance, these seem out of place, because all around these verses, the talk is about trials and tough times.  So to talk about rich or poor here seems out of place unless you interpret it as the poor person suffering trials while the rich has it easier.  The use of wealth, money or lack of wealth, money is a type of trial. What he’s saying if you are poor (if you have trials), be proud of the eternal wealth you have.  And if you are rich, be humbled by the fact that these rewards are temporary, not eternal.  And be careful you don’t fade away into it—don’t become stingy with your money.

 

Verse 12

What is he talking about with the crown of life?  So if you endure the temptation by not reacting badly to a temptation of a trial, you will receive a crown of life!

 

Verses 13-15

Trial verses chastisement.  Who brings about trials?  Satan.  God allows it to test what someone’s reaction will be—like Job. But then James explains chastisement.  Sometimes when a Believer chooses to fall into sin, God will allow the consequences of the sin to bring chastisement.

Escort through Beach Manor--a Dream about Pasts and Futures

Back in December last year, after six months of dating me, the wonderful man in my life began to make it clear he was looking to move our relationship into something more committed. There was nothing holding me back and he was patient enough to allow me to work through my feelings about it on my own.

It wasn't too hard for me to want a future with him. Still, with four boys I'm responsible for, I don't take big life changes lightly. It's during these decision points where I capture my dreams as soon as I awake--because dreams reveal the process of working through your feelings deep in the recesses of your heart.  One particular dream captured so well my heart's shift from missing the past with my husband to longing for a future with the man I’m dating. I wanted to share it:

We pulled the dogs on leashes through the main halls of the beach manor—not a cottage or a house, mind you—a mansion—inlaid with wood paneled high ceilings and walls, with magnificently framed oil paintings, richly cut dark molding and  deep dark brown wood floor planks.  

I glanced to my left and saw a sad looking creature with emptiness in his eyes. It resonated with feelings I’ve known so long now that its familiarity both frightened me and kept me company.

My escort ignored the ugly creature and pulled me along, tantalizing me with sweet gestures.  Perhaps he never saw it—perhaps to demonstrate—don’t be afraid—that isn’t your purpose here.  I followed as he stepped out onto the back veranda. We came here for the ocean.

“We must remove our shoes,” he whispered, and gently coaxed me close to him. I heard the waves crashing in the darkness behind us.

The two dogs pulled toward the sound. “Mine will disappear in the waves if we don’t hold on to him,” I said, pulling at the leash.  My escort nodded and tugged at his boot.  As he removed it, I marveled. How did I not notice the intricate detail in his boot before?  It was like something out of an English novel where Mr. Darcy goes fox hunting or something—only the boot was even finer than that—like it belonged on a model in a Ralph Lauren catalog.  Even with the salt breeze I smelled deep leather and saddle soap. He placed the boots up inside a protected wooden storage shack the size of a horse’s stable.

Suddenly I felt like I wasn’t supposed to be there, not there, not by the ocean. Danger danced around me, and while I followed him with such certainty before, I somehow wanted to get away from the beach. I turned and went back into the house. My escort just nodded with the most understanding of looks in his eyes as if to say, "where you spend your time is your business, but I won't go back in there--I'll wait out here." 


Inside I found myself back in the rooms with the tall ceilings with wood paneling. Another tortured soul sat alone in her distress. She then rose up, demonic-like—taunting me, wisping around me, placing her half-beautiful, half wretched, tortured face into mine, and spitefully laughing at me.

She can’t hurt me, I thought. I love God. I thought about the comforting escort I left outside with regret. Say it, I told myself. “I love God.” I was using advice I had given my children. When something scares you, physically say the name of Christ and if it’s demonic, it will scram.

But my words came out garbled, as though my mouth was wired together and some mystic spell or cerebral palsy paralyzed its movement—but only partially.  I could still make out slow-motion audible words. “I’m not scared of you. I love God.” 

The very spoken word of the Almighty seemed to shake her. She cowered, but only for a moment.

I fought to say it louder as the demonic figure recoiled. “I love God.  I love God.”  

She wisped back to her chair—clung to the back of it, wounded by the sound of His name. 

“I’m not scared of you...” I repeated, aware now of bed sheets around me and strong arms holding me—tightly, but lovingly. They held me with such conviction that their strength encouraged me. I shaped my mouth with determination. “I love God. I LOVE GOD.” This had to be a dream—the demonic woman, the beach scene, the ugly creature. 


I assured myself I wasn’t in the haunted mansion. I was lying in the arms of my sleeping husband--but which one--Tom? or a future husband like the mysterious escort? Whoever he was, by now, he must be wondering why I’m uttering such nonsense in my sleep.  With my eyes shut I could still feel his arms around me, and I didn’t care whether he heard my babble.  A dream like that doesn’t come from my head—it was too realistic, too scary.  Something or someone was trying to tear at me—scare me. With the muscles of my mouth brought back in control, I decided to scare who ever that offender was.

“In the name of Jesus Christ, whoever is trying to scare me—Get out.”

The demon vaporized as I felt the strong arms hug more tightly. That's when it occurred to me. That couldn’t be my husband holding me. I’m widowed. I sleep alone. So was it my escort? I remembered my bed, my room, my children’s rooms down the hall.  I reassured myself. Thought about the soft sheets and pillows I felt around my body. Alone.  Yes, I’m alone. The pressure around my body of someone holding me loosened.  I felt its lingering imprint—that sense that someone had just been holding me. 

Heat raced through my body. I tore the sheet away to cool off and turned on the light. I didn’t need to look around the room—I knew I was alone, safe in my home…

But wanting to go back for a walk with my escort by the ocean.

That dream, three months ago, marked the beginning of my taking responsibility for the next steps in my relationship with the man in my life.  I won’t let the lonely demons keep me from enjoying a gift God has place right in front of me, the possibility of a sincere escort to lead me through life. After that dream I began watching him through a new set of eyes, looking for how life would be walking along the ocean with him.

Proverbs 31 Ministries blogpost: Our Stories so Uniquely the Same

The day of the funeral we wore that dress we wish we could forget about. Some of us wore stylish dresses, as though our husbands would be comforted in Heaven if we tried our best to not look as awful as we felt. Some of us wore the simplest of black dresses—after all, the occasion wasn’t happy—why attract attention to ourselves? Some of us hate black and purposely chose navy blue. Some of us borrowed dresses from our sisters, and then asked them to take it back and never show it to us again. Why use our own dress, which would sit in the closet as a constant reminder?

All of us cried. We cried heavy, even howled—never holding back—drowning in wet tissues for hours on our sisters’ laps. We cried soft whimpers when no one was looking. We cried silent tears—staring blankly at the empty world we faced without them. We didn’t cry at all at first, and even wondered if everyone thought we didn’t love our husbands. Of course we did—more than life itself—it’s just that we’re not criers—or so we thought. In private, it all came loose. We drowned our tears in wine until a friend plucked us up and sat with us so we wouldn’t drink alone. We cried in waves, like a roller coaster—fine one minute, calm, even kind of detached about it as we sorted through things in the house—wondering why on earth we’ve been given this strange peace, until the wave crashed and then boom—we dissolved into inconsolable tears.

We got through that first month. Some of us were thrust into crisis mode—”He had a business with customers banging at the door—who else but the widow would be expected to close up shop?” Some of us fought with the insurance company—”what do you mean investigation? I thought our life insurance was secure!” Some of us couldn’t stay in our homes—without him the rent couldn’t be paid. Many of us refused to think about it. The kids were so confused—how could we even have a moment to think about ourselves with our kids asking so many questions? Some of us got busy—cleaning, trying to make order somewhere even with the chaos in our hearts.

Then we had to deal with his belongings, unless we expected to live with the constant evidence someone should still be there. We had friends sort through his belongings for us—bagging up his clothes and taking them to Goodwill right away. We wouldn’t let anyone touch his belongings. Their closets became unbearable to touch, a sort of shrine to their existence in our lives. We organized his belongings into nice little boxes and moved them into the attic. Hopefully we can eventually have the courage to reopen them and decide what to do with it all. We left certain belongings untouched. That receipt from Blockbuster he taped onto the side of the refrigerator stayed there for years. Even visitors seemed to know it would be sacrilegious to remove it.

We announced to everyone we would never remarry. We left half of the headstone blank—certain we’d want to be rested next to him forever. We dedicated the entire headstone to him, recognizing twenty-seven is too young to assume there will never be another. Some of us admitted to ourselves we’d want to remarry—sooner than later. Some of us knew this would be it, that kind of love won’t repeat itself in our lives. We wore our wedding rings for two years straight. We wore our wedding rings for six months. We’re still wearing our wedding rings after twenty years. We kept our rings on for the first year, then added them to chains around our necks, and then finally stopped wearing them altogether. We took some of the life insurance money and bought for ourselves beautiful diamond rings because we knew they always wanted to give us them and never got around to it in their lifetimes. We wore their wedding bands on our thumbs. We wore their bands on necklace chains. We hung their wedding bands on our vanity mirrors. We buried them with their bands on their hands. We buried them with our wedding rings placed in their hands. We saved both rings for our children.

The aching for a man started. Some of us felt vulnerable right away. Some of us felt it within a few months. Some of us still don’t feel it. Some of us were ashamed of the impure thoughts we had for the men we see each day at our churches or behind the counters at Starbucks. Some of us knew that was normal and went home and cried about our husbands. Some of us confused it for love and were taken advantage of.

We tried counseling. We loved it—we were finally able to get why we loved him so much and yet in some ways felt relieved not to have the same arguments repeated. We hated counseling—felt like we had a better grip on loss than the trained counselor. We dragged our children to counselors against their will, and were later glad we did—what would have happened with that grumpy teenager had we not gotten him to vent? We dragged our children to counselors and found out dragging didn’t work at all—the teenager only dug his heels in. We brought our children to a counselor who won their trust and got them on a healthy road of grieving right away. We got our kids to a counselor just in time. We got our kids to a counselor too late—but is it ever too late? We started counseling and thought we didn’t need it anymore and found ourselves later crawling back when life without our husbands got really rough.

We blamed God. We didn’t blame God, but had a handle on how to just trust Him and accept. Maybe we’d already been through some pretty rough blows in life and knew bad things just happen and in the end it all fits into some part of His will. We didn’t blame Him at first, but then life got harder. The bills mounted. The kids got squirrely. We got lonely. We’re still learning how to stop blaming God. We know we don’t really blame Him, we’re just plain mad.

We took on our husbands’ legacies. Some of us opened that coffee shop he always dreamed of starting, only to find it was too overwhelming to handle without him. Some of us started that summer camp he dreamed about on the property he purchased a year before the accident. What purpose it gave me. I can’t imagine I’d have survived without something to focus on! We raised our stepchildren that now had no biological parent to raise them. We struggled with a stepchild’s loyalty issues—loved by us, but still feeling like an orphan.

We started over. Some of us started new careers. Some of us started to date. Some of us started new marriages and families. Some of us started sinking further into loneliness, refusing to start over. Some of us needed more time for grieving than others. Some of us wondered at others of us who move on too quickly for our comfort. Some of us wondered at others of us who we wanted to see moving on and living life more.

But all of us do… live life more. Whether it’s through grieving more deeply or actively starting life more quickly, we live life more. Our tragedies are parallel and the ripples from our tragedies go in all different directions. And somehow, always lead to redemption.

Thank you, sisters, for continuing to share your stories with us. I marvel at how strong each of you are, and how the Lord has taken the horrible loss in your lives to transform you and glorify Him.

Proverbs 31 Ministries blogpost: Consider that Terrible Struggle Joy?

Consider that Terrible Struggle Joy?

by A WIDOW'S MIGHT on DECEMBER 30, 2011

By Kitty Hinkle

Isn’t it amazing, dear sisters who share in loss as I do, that just as I was about to post the following message for you on Tuesday, the Lord arranged for a huge wave of Daddy sadness to overshadow my home and bring me the kinds of tears of grief I had a reader inspire me to write about.  Now that the cloud has passed for now, I’ve returned, as promised, to post what I originally wrote, and I’m amazed.  The experience this week only heightened my appreciation for James’s words in the first chapter of his book about considering all your struggles to be joy.  If you’re not feeling what I’m describing, be patient, and bear with me as I try to put into words what only God can reveal through His love.

Here is my posting that was meant for earlier this week:

So many times our postings here on A Widow’s Might are focused on encouragement.

So many times, we want to share with you how to move forward, how to put your trust in the Lord, and how to take the lemons that widowhood has left for you and make lemonade—and maybe even something better than lemonade.  Maybe even a pineapple lemon-drop smoothie!

But I can remember moments, especially in that first year after losing Tom, when that advice was the last thing I wanted to hear.  Yesterday I chatted with a widow who spent her first Christmas alone after losing her husband just five months ago.

This blessed sister wondered if the five of us writing these posts ever get angry with God, or are we just filled with God’s euphoria all the time. I want to share something she said, because it reminded me of something I once found  myself saying. “I have seen many graces that He has given me, but I wouldn’t need those graces if He hadn’t chosen to allow this in the first place. His love for me is of no comfort to me right now because it seems … He gets to do whatever it is He wants with my life and I am still suppose to take comfort in His love. So I am guessing this means that I am in the anger phase of my grief journey!”

She tells me she recognizes this anger will pass, but I so get being fed up with encouragement when you’re just not ready for it—not just yet. You just want to be mad.

Truth is, sisters, yes, each one of us had and continue to have our moments when we cry out in pain, in anger, in self pity.

My moments like this came, at first, in waves—like a roller coaster. One moment I’d feel this surreal peace, like God had me totally in His grip, and the next moment the entire loss would come crashing in on me like a tidal wave. The night Tom died, I felt a surreal lifting from the Lord—like, even though I lost the best friend and love of my life, Someone was supernaturally holding me, cradling me, carrying me. But just hours later, I found myself looking at his chair in the living room in disbelief, remembering how earlier that day he sat there, grinning at me.  “He was just here,” I thought.  I found myself grabbing at the empty space where he sat with my fist, over and over, until I exploded in tears.

And then on that first Christmas without him, I found myself too busy with my four boys to get to that miserably lonely point.  Friends and family surrounded me, and I still felt that glow of being loved by my husband—still felt married.  But just two days later, as I finally cleaned out his office, turning paper after paper over, sorting, what memory to toss, what memory to savor. I found little notes I had written to him, early in the summer, weighing the merits of which vacation we’d take in the fall. Little did I know as I had scribbled those thoughts, he’d be gone before we could ever take that vacation. I sobbed my eyes out, wondering will it ever be possible to stop? Wine didn’t dull the pain, sleep fled from me, and I became determined to finish the painful sorting job even as the sun started to climb over the horizon.

Then a year to the very date of his death, I can tell you about the friends and family that gathered around to help the boys celebrate the memory of their father Tom-style, with a joyful celebration. The boys enjoyed it—it was beautifully perfect.  But that same moment, as dozens smiled and prayed and encouraged with words, cards, letters, and mementos, I was dying inside.  I wanted everyone to just go away. I wanted to be alone.  I hated the attention—I hated that all I had was a memory to celebrate, not the husband that cradled me in his arms night after night.  I left those dozens of cards people gave me unopened. Tucked them away in a box. That was three years ago and I’ve yet to open even one of them.  I just wanted to forget that horrible night where we had to celebrate the memory of someone I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

And even a year ago, as I began to date, I can tell you about the blessings the Lord has given me in introducing me to kind fellows, ones with integrity and genuine intentions for me.  But I can also tell you of nightmares I had of an unknown stranger taking me to a scary unknown, and slightly waking to the feeling of my husband’s arms tightly wrapped around me in my bed, only to find that even that was a dream, and that I’m still, indeed, alone. Then sobbing—why do I have to start over when the arms that held me were more than enough for me—they were safe, and I was sure.

So I wanted to share with you those painful moments—because if you’re in that early phase of shock, anger, and desperate loneliness, I want you to know that you’re not alone.  If you’re angry, you’re probably not really blaming God and thinking He’s laughing at you and hurling death into your life to watch you squirm.  But you’re still angry at Him.

And if you’re still angry at Him, you’re probably mad because you know He’s all-powerful, and He could have stopped it.  He could have stopped the car wreck, or the heart attack or the cancer cells.  But He didn’t.  And now you have to be happy with the comfort He gives you?  Arrrgh!!!

So why didn’t I cave to those feelings, and why won’t you?

Because you have to believe, somewhere deep within you, that there is a purpose to allowing pain in our lives.  I love what my pastor told us last week when he spoke on this exact topic.  “We all have had that moment in life when we’re knocked off that wide road in life.  The road that nearly everyone travels. The road of life with family, career, health, wealth. All the stuff that even if we don’t have it all, we have some of it, and enough to at least still have the hopes and dreams to getting it all.  And the whole world is walking that road with you, and you feel like you’re part of it all—until it happens.  Divorce, loss, sickness—and you’re knocked off the wide road and down onto the road less traveled.”

And you sit there on the road less traveled.  You’re angry, sad, lonely.  And you might stay that way, but if you get past that, you begin look around and really notice God more.  You’re comforted by Him and suddenly you see Him like you’ve never seen Him before.  And you notice fewer people are on this road less traveled.  That’s because many people don’t stay there. It’s so uncomfortable at first that rather than staying and sorting it out in their grief, they climb back onto the wide road before they get a chance to see how beautiful the road less traveled is.

But I encourage you—look around while you’re in that place.  Bear with the grief and trust. You’ll begin seeing it. I promise.  You begin seeing the beauty of this road. And that beauty, my sisters, is the euphoria that you hear us writing about.  When you choose to walk the road less traveled, He gets so fresh in your hearts that you feel him, right there—through it all, and nothing the world has to offer, even the security of a husband, replaces feeling the love of God all around you, of feeling of Him directing you next steps.

I am amazed ladies, as I’ve suffered with crying along with my children this week as they have relived the pain of losing Dad, that I felt such a surge of God’s peace all through the late nights comforting and talking with them.  Yes, it’s euphoria.  It’s as James says, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds” (James 1:2). Every tear is a step towards healing, so yes, I consider even the tears, joy, for as James says, you consider it joy: “because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.”

Blessings for all that God has to offer you in the coming year.