How is it possible that after writing more than 65,000 words about the death of our infant son Sawyer that my vocabulary has seemingly dried up?
On this 3rd anniversary of his birth, I find myself at a loss for words. I grapple not only for words to describe my feelings, but for the feelings with which to attach my words. My heart has learned how to live with the loss. My mind has discovered ways of processing the pain and I feel secure in my weakness. I have found my strength in Christ. I recognize the inherent frailty of my earthly existence, which is magnified by the chalenge to invest my fleeting time in a deserving manner.
It is a daunting task: to live with intention–one that often haunts me. Not because I fear my days are limited, but because I fear that my potential may not be reached. I fear looking back and seeing missed opportunities and unreached potential.
And I know what kind of potential opportunities matter the most–they are those that have enteral impact. I am aware that death is not the end. I fear for those who are not willing to face that reality. And I fear I will lose focus and become so distracted by things that do not have enteral value, that I will lose the opportunity to be used in a significant way.
Ultimately I hate that Satan’s lie, which began in the garden, still echos in our heart’s today “Did God really say?” For if he can place a seed of doubt into our minds about the trustworthiness of Gods Word, he has succeeded in separating us from our purpose and our potential.
I am not willing to have my purpose severed.
Last week I read the story of Peter healing a crippled beggar (found in Acts chapter 3). This story begins with a brief background of the beggar, alerting us to the fact that he was born lame and that each day he was brought to the temple gate so that he could beg for money. As Peter and John entered the temple, the beggar asked them for money. Verse 4 says, “Peter and John looked at him intently.”
That word penetrated me. I read and re-read it. I have been pondering it ever sense. Why? Because I know how the story ends. Peter says to him, “Look at us! . . . I don’t have any money for you, but I’ll give you what I have. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, get up and walk.” And the lame man did just that and more. ”. . . the man’s feet and anklebones were healed and strengthened. He jumped up, stood on his feet and began to walk! Then, walking, leaping, and praising God, he went into the Temple with them.” I know that if Peter and John had not stopped and looked intently at the beggar, no healing would have taken place that day. I also know that I am guilty of living my day without looking intently at those around me. From the beggar standing on the side of the road, to the person helping me in the store, to my child seeking my attention. I seldom pause to look with intention and as a result, I believe that I frequently miss out on opportunities to see God’s hand at work though me.
I am challenged to refocus, reevaluate and reconsider how my life might be better spent if I look intently at those around me. I am sure to fail, but so was Peter. Let us not forget that just before Jesus was killed, Peter was the one who denied Him three times. From denial to intention. From selfishness to selflessness.
With each passing moment, I am nearer to seeing my son in heaven than I have ever been before. But as the minutes pass, I will not be content to live off of yesterdays lessons. I will not be satisfied to settle for the status quo.
I am not willing to accept anything less than my true purpose.
Okay so maybe my vocabulary hasn’t fully dried up. . .