Pastor Tom Anderst reflects on the loss of both of his parents:

My mom died Wednesday, January 4, 2012. She had been ill for quite some time. We were surprised when it happened because she seemed to be doing better. Yet, in the end it was a blessing. She had suffered much over 2011. I have experienced grief in my Mom’s passing. Even though we were prepared, there was still the shock of not having that person to talk with anymore.
Yet the more surprising thing to me was that suddenly, I had no parents. My dad died in 2005. Yet I still had Mom to talk to and her life experience to draw from. But from January 4th on I’ve entered new territory. .
I know millions have traveled this road before. Many of you are walking it right now. But someone taught me many years ago that I don’t have to pretend that I have all the answers because I don’t. Nobody does. So I’ve learned to ask others about their life experience and what they’ve learned in living life without parents.
Here’s some comments received so far:
• That “orphan” feeling takes a long time to get used to.
• I did not ever think I would miss my mom as much as I do as time goes on.
• It’s very weird not having parents.

Read the rest here.

As we anticipate the 10th anniversary of 9/11, I point you to a thought Brian Chapell shared in a sermon he preached following 9/11.* Chapell points us to the tears of Christ as a lens through which we can view tragedy:

The purpose of the risen Lord still will triumph in the time of his design. He yet fulfills the words of the prophet of old:

The revelation of God’s purposes awaits an appointed time;

it pants toward the goal,

and it will not fail.

Though it tarries, wait for it,

because it will surely come and will not be late. Habbakuk 2:3 (Chapell’s translation).

What proof do we have of such amazing statements? What basis do we have for such faith? Lazarus’s rescue from the grace and Jesus’ resurrection from the dead are the proofs in microcosm and grand scale that give us assurance in tragedy–near and far, small and great, personal and national – - that our God understands, cares, and rules. How do we know? Jesus wept. Each tear in this tragedy is a lens to understand the power of God directed by love so strong that death cannot restrain its rule, time cannot blur its design, and tragedy cannot derail its triumph. This is how we know that God is love in the midst of tragedy: Jesus wept.

From, “National Tragedy,” in The Hardest Sermons You’ll Ever Have to Preach, edited by Bryan Chapell.

Glenn Lucke is posting a letter that he wrote in response to 9/11.

An Introduction

In the days immediately after 9/11, a friend in her mid-thirties wrote me an email wrestling with the question of how could God allow such evil. Elizabeth had worked for many years in the financial district of New York City and had relocated only a few years before the attacks. Thus, the senseless loss of life of friends and acquaintances was fresh, raw and scarcely comprehensible to her. Her first child, Susannah, had been born a year before, which provided an additional lens for reflecting upon the 9/11 attacks. This letter was written September 19, 2001, and different parts will be posted leading up to the 10-year Anniversary of 9/11.

Dear Elizabeth,

At long last I’m able to devote a lengthy period to sitting down and writing a response. I’ve thought of this issue daily, many times a day, even before you emailed last week. I’ve realized that in spite of my intellectual apprehension that I’m not “the Defender of God,” I have emotionally felt that I had to be just that for you. That has daunted me. But with fresh realization that we’re having an on-going dialogue about a very important question, that your faith is not in my hands, I feel slightly less daunted. And so I begin.

How does one account for the presence of evil in the world? How can an omniscient, omnipotent and omnibenevolent God allow suffering? . . .

Read more here. Notice that this is an ongoing series that you can follow.

“Today we are so thankful that we opted to go ahead with the 3rd surgery, because the results of the pathology report show that indeed there is more cancer.” My cousin Amy.

Would you pray for her?

*****

The below post is from my cousin’s daughter (so would that make her my first cousin once removed?), Amy, who is a young mother. In it she shares decisions that she faces in her battle against breast cancer.

Reading through this post, I am so struck by God’s grace at work in her life. But I am also taken back 40 years or so. I recall when Amy’s mother (my cousin) was in a terrible accident riding her horse. I vividly remember my dad’s concern that she might not live. Now all these years later, with that wilderness far behind us, we see that God did have a wonderful plan which included having such a courageous daughter.

Amy writes:

Today we are so thankful that we opted to go ahead with the 3rd surgery, because the results of the pathology report show that indeed there is more cancer.  This was definitely not the news we were expecting or hoping to hear when the surgeon called with the results this afternoon.  (I am now the 1st case where my surgeon has gotten a positive result for cancer after the 3rd surgery.  I guess I am pretty special! )  It appears the Breast MRI that showed the tumor had shrunk by 70% was very misleading.  The MRI showed a tumor 10-16mm in size, while the one removed in my 1st surgery was 6cm or larger.  Plus the section removed this past Tuesday contained another 3 x 3mm section that was cancerous and to the margins, meaning it could be larger.

We are praising God for revealing this to us, so we did not move on with my treatments without getting rid of all the cancer!  But now it would appear that mastectomy is the only option.  So now we must decide on a few things and get the ball rolling for another surgery:  Do I want/need a double mastectomy?  Do I want reconstruction (which requires a plastic surgeon as well)?  And if so, what type of reconstruction?  I’m to call my surgeon back on Tuesday morning with our decisions.

As I reflect on all that is transpiring, I can’t help but wonder . . .

Read the rest here.

If you don’t have cancer, you know people who do. And it may soon knock at your door. I find this blog written by a mother who lost a daughter to cancer, wisely encouraging.

A recent post:

In June of 2010, the Anchor of Hope Cancer Ministry was blessed with a new member.  “Miss Joyce”, as we all came to call her, shuffled into our meeting room that evening, wearing a denim skirt and white tennis shoes.  Everyone welcomed her, and then listened in fascination as she shared her story.

She shared with us how she had lost two husbands, both of them to cancer, if I remember correctly.  She then told us that she had been diagnosed with colon and ovarian cancer about a year and a half previously.  I’m going to quote as closely as I can recall what she said (I wish you could hear it in her sweet voice!)…”When I woke up from my surgery, the doctor told me I was terminal.  So, when I came home from the hospital, I started giving away all my stuff.  I was ready to go, and I knew I wouldn’t need it anymore.  I gave away my furniture, and my car, and my clothes.  Then I waited for God to take me home.  Now, I’ve had to get some of my stuff back, because I’m still here a year and a half later.  But I don’t have very many clothes, so you’ll have to excuse me if I wear the same thing every month.  I know that I’m still terminal, but . . .

Read the rest here.

Justin Taylor:

Joni, from her moving booklet Hope . . . The Best of Things:

I sure hope I can bring this wheelchair to heaven.

Now, I know that’s not theologically correct.

But I hope to bring it and put it in a little corner of heaven, and then in my new, perfect, glorified body, standing on grateful glorified legs, I’ll stand next to my Savior, holding his nail-pierced hands.

I’ll say, “Thank you, Jesus,” and he will know that I mean it, because he knows me.

He’ll recognize me from the fellowship we’re now sharing in his sufferings.

And I will say,

“Jesus, do you see that wheelchair? You were right when you said that in this world we would have trouble . . .

Read the rest here.

Jill Sullivan is a blogger who lost a daughter to cancer.  I read her blog and find that I am encouraged by her humble wisdom.  She recently posted:

All this week, I’ve been sitting in school workshops.  The last two days have been a presentation of the “Seven Habits of Highly Effective People” and one of the big topics has been paradigm shifts.  As part of his introduction, the presenter posed a question to the group, “What is something that has happened in your life that led to a paradigm shift?”  A few people shared stories of events in their lives that had led to significant change.  I didn’t volunteer to share, but if I had, I would have said, “When my teenage daughter was diagnosed with cancer.”

There’s nothing like suffering and loss to change your paradigms.  There are definitely some military families who’ve had their paradigms shifted this week.

In Randy Alcorn’s book, “If God Is Good”, he shares nine paradigm-shifting insights that he learned through studying the book of Job.  If I wasn’t so drained from sitting in workshops all day every day this week, I might be able to come up with one more on my own, thus making today a true Ten on the Tenth.  But I just don’t think that’s going to happen tonight.  So, without further ado, here are…

Nine Lessons To Be Learned from Job (from Randy Alcorn)

1.  Life is not predictable or formulaic.

2.  Most of life’s expectations and suffering’s explanations are simplistic and naive, waiting to be toppled.

Read the rest here.