The God Of Never

The God of Never

Building A Legacy of Faith

Sometimes in the busyness of life, things slip up on you. Like piles of laundry that you swore you washed yesterday. Or that homework assignment you had an entire month to complete. Or for those fortunate (or unfortunate) enough to be cat owners, the litter box that was scooped a few hours ago. Mother’s Day snuck up on me, and I’m not comparing this special day to a stinky litter box or even stressful assignments. (Although often the days that were created to be happy celebrations leave some of us with distressing memories and regret). The point is that in the middle of life, time accelerates at a pace that is simply untraceable. I realized that Mother’s Day was in a few days, and I had no idea how to honor those special women in my life who carried (literally) the role of “mother.” 

Since I find myself in this predicament, I am resorting to one of the best ways I know to deal with my thoughts—writing. It is easier for me to say how I feel in writing than out loud. Maybe because I can stop and think, erase, edit, revise, and rewrite my thoughts before they ever hit the retina. Once I speak it, there is no pulling it back. Only “I wish I hadn’t said that” or “Why didn’t I say it this way?” 

So here it goes...My mother was diagnosed with a glioblastoma brain cancer in January 2023. This would transform life as we know it. For those of you who have come face to face with a cancer diagnosis, you realize that there is a dividing line where everything is BC (before cancer) and AD (after diagnosis). Nothing is ever the same when the test results come back and the doctor gives you the news. As a person of faith, I am not painting a bleak picture; I am just being real and transparent. There is a time when you just sit there in disbelief—like you’re in the middle of a bad dream, and any minute you will wake up shaken but relieved that it was just a nightmare. Then you realize that nothing is like it was before. In our case, my mama and daddy could no longer live by themselves. My mom couldn’t remember how to cook dinner or take her medicine or how to drive to our house. She fought to find words to communicate which often left her silent. She didn’t want to go to church or be around people, not because she didn’t love both of those things, but because cancer had robbed her of her ability to feel safe or comfortable in either setting.

And then there is the massive guilt you take on as a caregiver—the emotions you fight day by day and moment by moment. The anger directed in a million different directions—at God, at yourself, at your loved one (as embarrassing and hurtful as it is to admit this). Sometimes the day seems hopeful and other times a deep darkness descends on your heart, and you question if you will ever make it out of the pit—if your loved one will claw their way out of it with you.

I realize that this is not your usual, happy-go-lucky Mother’s Day post up to this point, but if we are going to do life together, stay inside this circle with each other, then I am determined to be real with you. Everything I’ve described, I’ve struggled with at one point (or many) during this five-month journey. I share this to let you know that you are not alone if hurt or grief or disappointment has been your companion. You are not alone if this Mother’s Day is a combination of the bitter and the sweet. It is okay to be raw and honest with God! Open up the book of Psalms and read how David and the other psalmists poured their hearts out to God—unfiltered and unfettered honesty. Psalms 77 begins “I poured out my complaint to you, God. I lifted up my voice, shouting out for your help. When I was in deep distress, in my day of trouble, I reached out for you with hands stretched out to heaven. Over and over I kept looking for you, God, but your comforting grace was nowhere to be found.” If that prayer made it in the Bible, then I’m confident that God can handle your (and my) prayers that teeter on the edge of unbelief and anger. 

But now I want to tell you why I share this the week of Mother’s Day. My mother is a rock. She has a strength about her that is unmatched. If she has wrestled with any of the emotional wreckage that I fight with, she has never breathed a syllable of it. She has never expressed doubt in the power and presence of God. The best gift that I can give her this Mother’s Day is to follow her example. 

One morning I was walking through the parking lot at the hospital, making my way to the foyer where I had just dropped off my parents while I found a parking spot. I remember whispering to God, “When do I just face the truth that this may be the end and there is not going to be healing?” Just for reference, we are beginning this blog series about hearing God. This is one time I know without a doubt that I heard His voice. It is hard to explain, but in my mind, in my spirit, it was as if He stopped me in the middle of that parking lot, put His hands on my shoulders, and looked directly into my eyes and said, “Never. My children are never without hope. And there is never a time when I don’t keep my promises.” It was one of those moments when we stop and say, “Well, that settles it.” I couldn’t argue; it felt that final. And then He challenged me, “Find one place in the Bible where I commanded my children to give up and accept defeat. You won’t find it because that is not my nature...and it is not yours.”

This Mother’s Day, the gift I want to give my mother is the same gift she passed down to me. It is the same gift I want to bestow on my daughter, so she can pass it on to her children. It is the gift my mother-in-law gave all of her children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren.  I want to build a legacy of faith. Let it never be said that the proclamation of God’s faithfulness, the example of His goodness ended with my doubt and disbelief. Remember I told you about the honesty of Asaph in Psalms 77?  The story doesn’t end with his anguish. He declares, “Then I remembered the worship songs I used to sing in the night seasons, and my heart began to fill again with thoughts of you. So my spirit went out once more in search of you” (Psalms 77:6 TPT). Inside this circle, we are honest with one another—no judgment, but we don’t allow each other to drown in the shallows. We remind each other that we are never without hope, that our Father always keeps His promises, and like my mother, we will never accept defeat. As our spirit goes out in search of the truths and mysteries of God, may the Holy Spirit lead us to dive deep and drown willingly.