our God of all comfort.

Our church has a wonderfully intimate and powerful Christmas tradition. Each year, we share what we call "Family Communion". It's an opportunity for our Senior Pastors to share communion with each family individually as we embark on the new year together. They pray over pressing needs, celebrate God's goodness in the past year and anticipate what's to come in the next. And, at the end, they share with each person a different scripture to encourage them in the year to come.

The last year, the scripture I received was 2 Corinthians 1:3-4. "³Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, ⁴who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God."  

And, in these past few months, there have been many moments when I clutched that scripture card in my hand, or even pressed it to my heart, receiving God's comfort and asking Him to help me extend it. 

As I talked with my grandmother this morning, I could hear her voice weaken. Choosing words was proving to be a difficult task for her (a woman whose livelihood was made by inspiring people through speech). She explained the amount of pain she was in. She told me she was hoping she'd make it long enough to be at her next Doctor's appointment. It is on Wednesday. 

And then she comforted me:  "Spiritually I am doing well, Amanda. My family is close to me and their love is helping me."

I watch her and I am absolutely amazed. I have never seen someone face death with such courage. I can't imagine what that must be like - knowing your own body is choking out your life but that, in the end, all will be well. But she knows in Whom she has believed. And, though you can hear tinges of pain or fear in her voice from time to time, she squares her shoulders, turns her eyes, and declares His goodness. And then, she receives His comfort. Which is beyond any comfort man or medicine can bring. And she passes it on - comforting with the security she has embraced.

While I was home, in May, she jokingly mentioned to someone that, "Having a pastor in the family is great! She'll need to preach my memorial service!" And, overwhelmed at the thought, I laughed with her and said, "Ohhh, no, no. I'd be happy to do a prayer, though". But I knew she had meant what she said.  And I knew I wanted to do that. So, last week, I called and told her I would love to. And we both cried.  

It is beyond the human mind to grasp the comfort to be found in God's Word (His peace that passes understanding). I especially love those Words brought in the form of hymns; they are a sweet salve for my heart right now. 

"No guilt in life, no fear in death; this is the power of Christ in me. From life's first cry, to final breath, Jesus commands my destiny."

"And, Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight, the clouds be rolled back as a scroll. The trump shall resound and the Lord shall descend, even so, it is well with my soul..."

...this is what it means that He's the Father of compassion; the God of all comfort...