Tears to Glory

It's hard to believe that two years ago today, I was experiencing one of the deepest heartaches that I have known thus far in my life. Two years ago I wrote in my blog "Out of Egypt" a post called "O Come, O Come Emmanuel." I remember the mood, the setting, and the context of that post. It was my first Christmas in Egypt, and for the first time I was spending it away from my family and home. I was staying with people who were kind to me, but I felt misplaced there and very lonely. One of my greatest fears in choosing to come to Egypt was that my Grandpa Ed, who was sick with pulmonary fibrosis, would take a turn for the worse while I was gone and that I wouldn't be able to say goodbye. I didn't let the fear keep me from coming to Egypt, but that December 2009- when the fear actually became a reality- I wasn't even sure how to handle it. Able to do nothing, I had to wait helplessly on the other side of the ocean while my precious Papa Ed was taking some of his last breaths in a hospital room. My sister took her computer in the room the day before he died, and I was able to talk to him over Skype. I'm confident he heard me, though he could not respond.

When he died, I felt angry. I felt devastated. But most of all, I felt utterly alone. No one in this foreign country could understand what I was going through. I was with a group of people who cared about me, but never knew my Grandpa and the incredible support he'd been to me. Being a person that hates not having closure, I was devastated that I could not physically be there to hug Grandpa goodbye on this side of life.

I remember curling up in my bed at night just quietly crying myself to sleep, crying out to the only One who could understand what I was feeling. It was in this context that I wrote my blog post, "O Come, O Come Emmanuel." In my state of grief, I had heard the familiar carol again, and the words had shone with a hope I'd never seen in them before.

O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death's dark shadows put to flight.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

The song came alive with hope as I cried out to the Only One who could disperse the clouds of night and death's dark shadows. He promised to come to me, and in my heart I was longing more than ever for His rescue.

Now, two years later, I write again with the same yearning in my heart for Emmanuel. I long for Him to come- to redeem and to restore, just like God's people longed for Him to come so many years before His birth.

And now, as I write, my heart is grieving loss again; not death this time, but the loss of a friendship. It's a terrible heartache, when a season of friendship is ended. It's a horrible and wretched thing to say goodbye to someone who is so dear to you, even under good circumstances... The hurt is not unlike the heartache I experienced with the loss of my Grandpa. We are created in the image of God as relational beings. Relationships yield great power in our lives. When a friendship is ended, it really does leave a void, an empty space.

God has blessed me with this friendship for the last 2 years of my life. Now He seems to be taking it away- taking us different and separate ways. It will leave and already has left a void in my heart. Now all I can do is choose to continue to trust Him, no matter how I feel about it. His ways are better than mine. He knows what's best for me better than I do. I have to choose to believe that He will fill that emptiness with His own fullness.

Be still, my soul, though dearest friends depart.

And all is darkened in the vale of tears;

Then shalt thou better know His love, His heart,

Who comes to soothe thy sorrows and thy fears.

Be still, my soul; thy Jesus can repay

From His own fulness all He takes away.

I was terrified that my Grandpa would die while I was in Egypt. I didn't think I'd be able to handle it. He did. And God's grace was sufficient. I know, even when my heart aches now, that His grace is sufficient. And I can see so clearly that this is all part of His answers to my prayers. I've been asking Him to accomplish His purposes in me. He is. He's removing all the obstacles, making the rough places smooth, making the mountains and hills low, preparing the way for Him to move. I truly believe in all of this, that God is making a way- preparing me for something even when I cannot see it. I believe He is working/guiding/directing. I will follow Him, and I will wait. God, may you glorify yourself in my suffering. Expand your Kingdom. Please Jesus, turn my tears into your glory.