
I woke up early this morning, and as the clock ticked closer to the well known minute he was shot six years ago, I held him tighter. Not willing to let go, I believed that if I held him through that moment, he could stay with me forever. Oh, how little have I learned in six years?
Chris has always had a heart for the eternal things - I've admired this about him greatly. In fact, the day before the shooting, as I stepped off of the West Ridge Church stage from leading a song called "Oceans", my husband jumped with joy at the certain assurance that He would one day experience eternity with Christ. He expressed, "I can't WAIT!" to which my mom said, "Yes, you can." I am not making that story up. God placed eternity on my husband's heart in the same way he was preparing me for the greatest purpose I've ever known.
Just 48 hours later, Chris was shot at point blank range with a shotgun in a workplace violence shooting. I recognize now that the greatest sacrifice Chris has ever made for me was choosing to fight for his life here, instead of letting the light fade and waking up immediately in the presence of God - pain-free, fully-known, fully-loved, forever.
Our trail of faith has not been easy but God has given us deep joy and moments of comfort. The surgeries have paused for now at 54, but I would be lying if I didn’t confess there has been discussion of more to maintain quality of life. As with most serious injuries, there will be no end to the chronic pain in this life...we will endure this together. There are losses we can not measure, and good gifts from God that we do not deserve. Life springs forth from death.
Elisabeth Elliot shares this story in her book "Keep a Quiet Heart" of a preacher from the 1800's named Ugo Blossi who wrote a sermon around John 15, describing with deep detail the process of the pruning of the vine. This particular line stood out to her, and not coincidentally me, as I reflect on this day that set in motion all of our days ahead.
"Measure thy life by loss instead of gain...Love's strength standeth in Love's sacrifice" - Ugo Blossi
"The life of the Vine is "not one of pleasure or of ease". Almost before the flower fades the fruit begins to grow, but instead of being allowed to grow where it will, it is tied immediately to a stake, forced to draw out of the hard hillside its nourishment. When "the fair shoots begin to wind and wave in the blue air, and feel how sweet it is, " along comes the gardener with pruning hooks and shears, "and strips it bare of all its innocent pride...and cuts deep and sure, unsparing for its tenderness and joy."
When the vine bends low with the weight of grapes, "wrought out of the long striving of its heart" the hands come ready to tear down the treasures of the grapes, the feet are there to tread them in the wine-press "until the blood-red rivers of the wine run over, and the land is full of joy." But the vine standeth stripped and desolate, having given all, and now its own dark time is come, and no man payeth back to it the comfort and the glory of its gift."
Winter comes, and the vine is cut back to the very stem "despoiled, disfigured, left a leafless stock, alone through all the dark days that shall come" While the vine undergoes this death, the wine it has produced is gladdening the heart of man. Life springs forth from death - this the central message of Christ."
Wine poured forth from our trauma...
- Recognition and respect for the sovereignty of God.
- Deeper understanding of the Attributes of God.
- The saving of many lives.
- A strengthened marriage forged in the furnace of affliction.
- Endurance...etc.
We will only know the true measure of this in eternity.
"Christ was forsaken, so must thou be too.
Thou wilt not see the face or feel the hand.
Only the cruel crushing of feet,
When through the bitter night the Lord comes down
To tread the winepress - Not by sight, but faith,
Endure, endure - be faithful to the end"
So there it is. Eternity is now on my heart like never before. Does this mean I will have a near death experience tomorrow? I sure hope not. But I can't help but think the way Chris did - that our faith in Christ should prepare us to keep our eyes so fixed on Heaven that one day we just wake up there. So for now, I hold my husband tight and thank our Father, the giver of all good gifts, for giving me this precious man not once, but twice.
Happy Alive Day, Christopher. May my love for you be felt in the Heavenlies.