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How Could You?!

How Could You?!

Over the years, I tried in multiple ways to answer the question. I would reply from all angles - answer of logic, answer of emotion, answer of reason. Each had its audience. I gave the Biblical perspective, the spiritual perspective, the godly perspective. Countless times the response I received in return was a blank stare, a grimace, sometimes even a glare. 

In spite of my attempts to communicate, I did not possess within my human self an answer. Never did I have an explanation, save one, that landed correctly. 

The question:
How could you leave your parents and take their only grandchild to live so far away in an unsafe, unknown Communist country? 
My answer then is my answer now: The will of God. 

God made His call on our lives to go to live covertly behind the Iron Curtain so unmistakably clear that to refuse to go would be willful, blatant disobedience.

However, the domino effect of our decision left holes in the hearts of those we left behind. Their sorrow was genuine, and their pain ran deep. At the outset, close friends of theirs offered strong opinions; one predicted Communist prison for us. Another suggested my parents phone Washington and blow our cover. In the face of these challenges, I found myself helpless to fix it. Constantly, I had to put my own heartache into the Holy Hands of God.

Packing clothes, loading luggage, and checking-in at the airport were like objects on an emotional conveyor belt moving us toward our inevitable separation. Hugs...tears...and one last wave punctuated our parting. Watching my mother tearfully kiss our 17-month-old goodbye and seeing my Daddy turn his head away, took my soul to depths it had never before plumbed.

My strength to let go, to turn, and to walk down the jet way came from three truths anchored in the Word of God:

God’s will is good, acceptable and perfect (Romans 12:2b); Hard does not mean wrong.

God’s will is consistent; His will for me was also His will for my parents.

God’s will is the ultimate safest place on earth to be, even when His will meant living a dual life in a Communist nation. 

Did I continue to feel deeply? Yes
Did I do everything possible to keep them connected to our lives? Yes
Did I pray with every fiber of my being that they would know joy and peace? Yes
Did it ever go away? No, not really. 

The Atlantic Ocean remained between us for thirty-three years. Over the decades they were missed at birthday parties, piano recitals, and sporting events. Graduations had no grandparents in attendance. Thank goodness, God always filled in the gaps; His Presence occupied the empty seats.

Consistently, my parents' commitment to our relationship, despite their heartache, was stellar. They persevered with phone calls, photos, and generous care packages; they even came for a few visits. Their determination to connect was exemplary.

Over time, the Cold War thawed, and our geography shifted. Throughout the transitions, our distant relationships were abundantly, supernaturally blessed. But the core issue never fully went away. At unsuspecting times a nipping sensation of guilt attempted to derail me. Each time I grasped those three truths that took me down the jet way.
God’s will is good, acceptable and perfect; hard does not mean wrong
God’s will is consistent
God’s will is the ultimate safest place on earth

Not every missionary experiences these tensions, but this one did.

How could you?! I learned that obedience to God is just that: Obedience. "Obeying God in the power of the Holy Spirit, and leaving the results to God," may also involve pain for us and for others, especially those we love dearly.

 

 

 

ZAP!

I think you will like this.

ZAP!  Grab the remote and click.

Backdrop:

It started with the Magic Light Wand.
Remember when you were the last one to bed on Christmas Eve, and you were expected to turn off all the lights? If so, you probably found yourself crawling around the packages and under the limbs in search of the small switch needed to turn off the Christmas tree lights. Well, my commando crawl ended when we were given a Magic Light Wand. 

Magic Light Wand developed by a family in Memphis, Tennessee, is a cheerful, effortless way to magically wave a wand and turn on or turn off the lights on a tree. What appears to be fun is actually very practical.

When the holidays ended and our Magic Light Wand was put away with the Christmas decorations, our daughter went on a search. Why did the technology have to end with the end-of-the-year celebrations? Her research uncovered for us the year round version. It is called ZAP

ZAP is a remote outlet switch which allows you to turn on all the lamps in your room with a simple click. It’s self described features are

Point. Click. Power.  

Advantages:

  • Hard to reach switches are no longer challenging
  • Cranky lampshades do not need to be disturbed
  • Dark rooms cease to be intimidating
  • In fact, Larry can turn off my lamp if I am reading too late
  • I can turn it right back on again to finish my chapter
  • All with the click of ZAP

Game Plan:

  1. Order from Amazon 
  2. Choose the version best suited for your room, a one remote version or a two remote version
  3. Install the accompanying battery inside the remote
  4. Read the simple instructions; have the booklet in your hand and follow step by step
  5. Click                                                                                                                                           

My first ZAP was so successful that I reordered again….and then again. Now, for the fourth time, I am ready to place an order. Why? The switch on my tall desk lamp situated atop my roll top desk is always a challenge to stretch and reach. A single remote version ZAP is needed to eliminate this clumsy maneuver.

Truth in advertising; I do not get a commission. I do not offer guarantees. However, I do believe you and your household will be delighted with the simple convenience that comes from this innovative device. 

ZAP! Grab the remote and click.

May I Call You Elisabeth?

                            Elisabeth Elliot             December 21, 1926-June 15, 2015

                            Elisabeth Elliot

            December 21, 1926-June 15, 2015

“NO!” I screamed. “NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!”

Reality showed no mercy. The impersonal screen of my iphone delivered the news that my dear friend and beloved mentor Elisabeth Elliot was with Jesus.  Over the last decade, I made attempts to prepare myself for this moment. Not even close. My world was now a world without her, and of all things, I learned this on Facebook. No warning, no cushion, and no “I’m sorry I have to tell you this…” 

I immediately dialed their number to Strawberry Cove. Aware of a deep ache inside of me, I wanted desperately to talk to Lars, her husband of 38 years. I wanted to hear his rich velvety voice. He would provide the personal touch missing from a cold social media announcement.

No, again. The answering machine clicked and waited for my message. Ache and emptiness were gaining a foothold here, and I needed to be alone with God.

Climbing the three flights of stairs to my corner office in our Athletes in Action headquarters, I stared out the window at the lovely grounds below. Sunshine and beautiful flowers met my gaze. Gone. With only the silence to distract me, I prayed, “Oh God, I worship You. I worship You for the incredible ministry she had in my life.”

I sat down, and I began to remember.

I met her publically, and then grew to know her privately. She was one remarkable lady. What an unspeakable privilege to have known her. She was my mentor; she was my friend.  

Soft-spoken and precise, she never wavered when it came to the choice of obedience to the Lord. No, she was not a saint, but she was certainly set apart to mark a generation with her wholehearted devotion to Christ.

I experienced her clarity mixed with kindness over our first shared meal. She and Lars had flown to Garmisch, Germany where she was guest speaker for our annual women’s conference. I made sure to take advantage of the opportunity to reserve a private meal with her. Over dinner, surrounded by a cacophony of noises, I ventured to ask, “May I call you Elisabeth?” There was no mistaking her answer, “Yes, but thank you for asking.” Whew. 

Now that we were on a first-name basis, the real question weighing heavily on the soul of this young wife of a leader tumbled out. I suddenly became remarkably vulnerable with this woman I had just met.  

“What do you do with criticism of your husband?” Without batting an eye, she went straight to the point with p r e c i s e l y the answer I needed to hear. 

“Well. First of all, certainly no one likes it.” Shock. Had I heard her correctly? Heaven and earth stood still as my soul came up for air. 

No being made to feel guilty for struggling-

No quick-fix verse-

No vague spiritual airs- 

No sermon or suggestion-

Just a true, forthright transparency.  “No one likes it.” With that response we bonded; a treasured friendship was birthed. Elisabeth and I launched into a lifetime that would leave me forever changed by her wisdom and uncommon understanding.

Honestly, I was not prepared to like her so much. But a single answer from her changed my life. I immediately knew that I could trust her; I could learn from her; I could really like her. 

Over apfel strudel and coffee, I listened intently as she shed more Divine Light on my painful question. “Remember, God has given him a grace to bear this criticism. You do not have the same grace that he has, but God has given him grace for the criticism. Also, remember, there is probably a grain of truth within that he needs to hear. Allow God to use this in your husband's life.”

Repeatedly, I have returned to the teaching at a table at the foot of the Alps, instruction that truly changed my life. Thank You God; thank you, Elisabeth. In the coming years, I would turn to her with countless other questions. The story was always the same-unconditional acceptance and grace-filled wisdom. That was the sweet beginning. 

I remember her gentleness with our children. As we visited on other hallowed occasions around our dining room table, she treated them as if they were her own grandchildren. Their questions were handled with tenderness and respect. I smile to reflect on the discussions. 
“What was your favorite animal in the jungle?”
“The toucan.”
“Why do you use one name with your books and another with your husband, Mr. Gren?” 
“When you are a writer, it is important that your readers who knew you in the past can trust you to be the same person in the present. You don’t want to confuse them with different names.” 
“What was the strangest thing you ever ate in the jungle?”
“Monkey!” 
Laughter followed, of course.

Elisabeth and I would go on to journey together in the coming years, mostly at a distance, but intersecting lives when geography allowed. She remained consistent: uncompromising obedience, crystal clear clarity. I’m sure that today, countless tributes are already pouring in. Mine is just one, one testimony of one life that was changed. Forever.

Goodbye Elisabeth. I will miss you, remember you, and look forward to joining you in The Land That Is Fairer Than Day, where at The Marriage Feast of the Lamb, we will enjoy far more than apfel strudel and coffee.

Elisabeth Elliot left this life with the very same crystal-clear clarity with which she had lived it; at 6:15 am on 6:15:15 she departed.  Imagine that.

Today, on the one year anniversary of her Homegoing, I pay her Tribute.