A Pair of Suspenders

I was walking down Dundas St. W., going about my day in the city of Toronto. Seeing a man step out onto the sidewalk, I was stymied. With his back to me, a pair of suspenders crisscrossed on his back, I burst into tears. Yes. Right there. Behind a complete stranger. Muttering under my breath, I took stock of the situation. He had reminded me of my Dad; tall, broad-shouldered and wearing suspenders.

I didn’t know grief would just show up like that, ten years after Dad’s death. It took my breath away. For a brief moment, I felt ashamed. Yes, ashamed. Looking around, I wondered if anyone saw me; heard me. Would I be misunderstood? My soul cried out to the One who would completely understand. “Lord, hold my heart. I remember: “You have kept count of my wanderings. Put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your book” (Psalm 56:8)? I let the grief wash over me. Embracing sorrow seems counter-intuitive, but it is an intrinsic element of being human. Comforted by the nearness of my Saviour, I met the rest of my day with a sweetened sense of His very near and dear presence.

The Lord Jesus understands death and grief. He continues to carry the scars and will do so for eternity. His grief, over humanity’s sin, will forever be expressed by the nail-prints in His hands and feet, and by the hole still in His side.


Thomas, in John 20:25, famously said: “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.” Sure enough, “A week later his(Jesus) disciples were in the house again, and Thomas was with them. Though the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you!” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe. Thomas said to Him: ‘My Lord and my God’’ (John 20: 26-28).

It is incredible to me. Not only did Jesus identify with us in becoming a baby, growing up into manhood and then dying on a cross. You would think He would have gone back to heaven, no longer needing His humanity, having completed His work of salvation by dying for our sin and rising again. But no, He has retained His humanity.

Forty days after His resurrection: “And while they were gazing into heaven as he went, behold, two men stood by them in white robes, and said, “Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking into heaven? This Jesus, who was taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven” (Acts 1:10,11). "In the same way."  Jesus still identifies with us; with me. He is still the man of sorrows, acquainted with my grief. His forever incarnation is a great comfort to me.

No religion in the history of man has brought God so close to humanity. No other faith portrays God, in the flesh, identifying with us completely. “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen His glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth” (John 1:14). I have mourned many deaths since that day, over seventeen years ago. I am always saddened. But, for those who are in Christ, I sorrow yet as one having hope. I will see my Dad again. And that is a great comfort. But first, I will see Jesus. There is no one else worthy of praise; there is no one else who comforts like Him.

The Jacket

My sister, Lise,  and Mom

What to wear?  A chilly day with a strong breeze off the water; a windbreaker would be needed.  With chagrin, I realized that I didn’t really own one.  What to do?  I spotted the jacket, hanging in a corner of the closet, hidden by winter coats and, well, just plain old clothes draping off the hangars.  No wonder I had not seen it lately.

It is a reversible windbreaker.  Bright pink on one side and light blue on the other.  Perfect.  I could wear blue today and pink tomorrow.  But, I had mixed feelings as I put it on.  It was Mom’s go-to jacket for when she worked out in the yard.  If there was one thing my Mom both loved and hated about Springtime, it was those troublesome dandelions.  She considered them as Public Enemy Number One.  Nothing delighted her more than to don her blue-pink jacket, shove her hands into a pair of old garden gloves and whip out a dull knife which she manipulated with great agility as she hauled out those poor defenseless yellow flowers, (read: weeds).  Mind you, chopping off their heads was never her agenda.  Oh no, she would root around for the root and haul each one out with a great deal of satisfaction.  Neither rain nor wind would stop her, even though she absolutely hated the wind. Hence, she had found the perfect jacket- colourful and with a hood.

My mind was whirling as I put on this memorable piece of clothing.  Out for my 5-kilometre walk, I prayed about my Mom; thanking God for such a trooper, such a hard worker, such a sweet woman.  And I prayed for Mom; praying that she would carry sweeter memories than the ones Dementia seems to have stolen.  She has taught me so much.  

For some reason, I went all the way back to my childhood.  In my first 10 years at school, I was subjected to a lot of ridicule and bullying.  Earlier on, I would arrive home in tears.  While Mom would comfort me and hear out my story, she would always finish with these words: “Forgive them, Francine.  They are children who don’t really understand what they are doing.  You are better than their words.”

Walking down the road, I could barely see where I was going as tears filled my eyes.  Mom was right.  It’s not that she agreed with bullying, nor was she afraid to stand up for someone, but she wanted me to understand that there would be more important battles to fight in years to come.

The 5 kilometres went by quickly; forty-five minutes at 9 minutes per kilometre.  The wind was indeed brisk and cold, but my heart was warmed.  And the blue-pink jacket kept me warm, as warm as my Mom’s smile and encouraging words.  I had forgiven those children, so long ago. 

At the age of twenty-eight, I came to know Christ as my Lord and Saviour, the One who has forgiven me.  Blaming my childhood hurts, one would think, could have absolved me from at least some of my sins- the ones that were a reaction to childhood difficulties.  But, I will stand before God on my own.  And I understood that I needed forgiveness as well.  I read Jesus’ words from the cross: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:41).  To whom was Jesus referring?  To the soldiers, the religious leaders, all the people who cried out for His execution?  He most certainly was quoting from Isaiah 53:12: “He made intercession for the transgressors.”   Perhaps He was referring to me.   While His prayer may have been for all of the above-named groups of people, it shows His overwhelming compassion, even as He was dying, and His extended mercy for all who will admit both their ignorance and their great need for a Saviour.  He extended that mercy to me, for which I am eternally grateful.

I intend to wear this special windbreaker on my next visit with Mom, and I can’t wait to tell her this story; to remind her of her past and to encourage her about the Hope in Christ that carries us into the future.

A Hope to be Shared

The Humboldt Broncos will never be the same. I don't personally know the young hockey players, their coaches, or the bus driver- the fifteen men who lost their lives in the crash. I don't know the other team members who survived this horrific accident. But, I sorrow with them. Death is such a thief, and this loss goes deep. I am convinced, consoled and comforted by the reality that Christ, Immanuel-God with us- not only understands our sorrows but walks with us through it.
No, I cannot completely explain why such a tragic event as the death of these 15 men from western Canada would have happened, but I can look to God for solace and I can pray to the One who died and rose again. I can pray, not only for the families, but for the entire nation of Canada that has embraced this tragedy as one affecting us all.

Without the presence of "Christ in you, the hope of glory"(Colossians 1:27), I would only have myself to rely on and I am certain that I need a God who understands sorrow and death. God knows what it is like to "lose a son," and I am grateful that I can speak to Him, knowing He understands.

I have been especially moved by the pictures of hockey sticks- on doorsteps, patios and decks, and at the Canadian Army Base in Iraq. Such a simple gesture, but fraught with meaning.

May we hold our families closer. May each of their family members find comfort in this deepest and darkest of valleys.  May the words of the team Chaplain touch the hearts of all those directly impacted- his words were of Christ, of the Shepherd who walks with us:  

 https://globalnews.ca/news/4132117/valley-of-darkness-humboldt-broncos-crash-sean-brandow/

Praying.

A Few Words

 

A few words can go a long way, as in all the way from Louisiana to Nova Scotia.  A special friend of ours gave us these monogrammed t-shirts a while ago.  She loved Mom from the moment she met her and I am thankful for this kind lady’s sweet thoughtfulness.  While studying at Université Ste Anne, here in Nova Scotia, she adopted Clare’s Community Church as her own and we have all been the better for it.  Blue is Mom’s favourite colour.  Even though, because of dementia, she cannot quite comprehend how the initials work, she is just plain happy with the gift and recognizes that someone loves her.  Add to this our Easter outing, and her day was as special as it could be. 

Somehow, we think we need to do some grandiose gesture to show our love of Christ and for Christ; to demonstrate grace and mercy to those around us.  Not so.  Our world is full of the lonely, the heartbroken and the disillusioned.  Being made in the image of God, we have the imprint of intimacy on our hearts; we are made for fellowship, reflecting the perfect companionship of our triune God: the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. 

Some time ago, I had the privilege of caring for a special 98 year-old senior citizen, in the city of Toronto.  She had a Companion who came to spend time with her every day.  After having lived in Long Term Care for one year, her doctor stated: “If this lady did not have a Companion, she would have died some time ago.  She would have died from loneliness.”

I am not surprised that loneliness is now considered one of the greatest health hazards of our generation.  http://www.apa.org/news/press/releases/2017/08/lonely-die.aspx We are lonesome, first of all, for fellowship with God, caused by our sin and rejection of Him.  And, by virtue of this, we are also prone to loneliness even in the midst of a crowd- we were made for more than that; we were made for true companionship.   The Gospel transcends these divides and brings us into fellowship with God through the work of Christ’s death and resurrection, paying for our sins so that we will not be forever lost; so that we will know what true friendship is, forever found in Christ. 

Let’s show our world the power of the gospel, by loving and serving others; by breaking through the fog of loneliness where so many people are lost and hurting; by introducing them to Christ.  No doubt you can think of someone right now who could use a visit, a phone call or even a wee gift.  And it could very well be someone next door, let alone someone who lives thousands of miles away.

Ecclesiastes 4:9,10

“Two are better than one because they have a good return for their labour.  For if either of them falls, the one will lift up his companion.  

But woe to the one who falls when there is not another to lift him up.”