Note: This was originally written for another forum, but the message is one that I think many may benefit from.
I found myself unable to type the words "Happy Sabbath," because it doesn't feel like a happy day at all. My phone rang this dreary Saturday morning with news that there could - finally - be some memorial service for Catherine
[Matteson; "Waco" survivor who passed away in September]. Maybe the cold, and the rain, has had a negative impact on my mood today... but I find myself particularly bitter that - once again - these people were slapped in the face.
Instead of allowing her to be given a proper funeral and burial, her body was held for months, until most people gave up on trying to leave time available for whatever arrangements would eventually be made. Then, her body is finally released for burial, on short notice, during a holiday week, effectively insuring a small number of folks able to obtain time off work and make the trip to Waco to remember her life.
And yet, even as I sit here typing this, I am convicted by the Spirit for my bitterness, my inability to forgive, and by extension of those - my lack of faith. Do I not absolutely trust in the Lord, who knows the number of hairs on my head and everything that would happen before I was even created? Do I not believe that I am to forgive others, as the Lord forgives me for my transgressions? And if I do, then why do I live as though I don't?
The Bible tells the story of a man named Job, who suffered more loss, heartache, and hardship than any man should ever see. His children were killed, his possessions were destroyed, his friends turned their backs on him. And yet his faith remained strong, and he refused to dishonor the Lord in reaction to his pain.
Whenever I read the story of Job, I cannot help but think of Clive
[Doyle], and Sheila
[Martin], and Catherine
[Matteson], and Bonnie
[Haldeman], and all of the others
[surviving Branch Davidians] who have lost so much. They lost children, and grandchildren, and spouses, and parents. They lost their home and their friends and their place of worship. They very nearly lost their lives.
And yet, their faith is still the central driving force in their lives. Time and again I have seen a grace exhibited from these people, that can only come from God. Alongside the memorials for their loved ones, they placed one for the fallen agents who did this to them - and their names are read each year at the memorial service as well. When asked, a few years after the tragedy, what could be done to help - they didn't request homes, though they had none of their own. They didn't request money, or vehicles, or any of the other material things that so many volunteers would have been grateful for the chance to provide. Instead, they asked for a place to gather, and worship - a place they would then open to all who would choose to come.
This kind of grace, and faith, amazes me. It is what I remind myself of on dreary days such as this, which begin with bittersweet news and leave me feeling so ungrateful for all of the good things that I have. Relative freedom, a computer that I'm sitting here typing this on, a roof over my head, my health. Sure, I've had losses in my life. It hurts to think of both Bonnie and Catherine no longer being here, both gone in a single year. But, what do I know of loss, compared to theirs?
If you're still with me, there's a point to all of this. It's okay to be upset when bad things happen in this life we live. But don't be upset with God. The Lord didn't design this world to be filled with pain, and heartbreak. That came into the world with sin, when Adam and Eve chose to disobey God. Instead of blaming God, and being angry with Him when bad things happen, we need to look to Him to comfort us and carry us through it. We need to remember that the time He's given us here is but a gift, and remember to be thankful for it.
And on that note, I'll leave you to contemplate the things that you are thankful for in your life.
