Here's a disclaimer: I'm writing this at 2 am (never advisable) because I've been sick and started a new medicine that keeps me up. all. night. But, I figure why not make use of this midnight oil and do something I haven't had the free-thinking time to do in a while: spend time with you.
For some reason, this memory keeps coming back to me these past few weeks...
On Mother's Day of 2009 I was in Arizona, spending the first Mother's Day in forever with my Mom and my Gramma. I lucked out, because that just happened to also be the weekend my dear cousin, Sherri, was having her precious daughter dedicated to Jesus, so we all got to share in the service together.
Of course, Gramma was overjoyed that yet another grand/great-grandbaby was being dedicated to the Lord, so the time together was emotional in general. But at the conclusion of the service, as we sang the hymn "I Have Decided", emotion took a backseat to a divine encounter.
We had already been through so much of this cancer battle. Ups, downs, heartbreaks, exhilarating victories. But we had no idea what the future might hold. Years before the battle had begun, Gramma went through a pretty sad time while her hearing deteriorated. She had loved to sing and hearing loss swept that away (in a public sense anyway).
But not for this moment...
As the worship team led us in song, she began humming beside me. Then, singing softly. And then, I could sense the Holy Spirit all around as her voice grew louder: "I have decided to follow Jesus...no turning back, no turning back," and "though none go with me, still I will follow". Through each verse, her voice grew more sincere, full of emotion, commitment and history. And I was so aware I was merely eavesdropping on a conversation that had nothing to do with me. Or anyone else, really. The declaration had been in her spirit since the grim diagnosis.
But I felt so honored to be a bystander and hear the exchange between them; this woman so full of trust and a Savior who held all of her life in the palm of His hand. She sang words that only someone who really knew this Jesus could sing. Words with one theme, "If it's only me and You. If only we can walk this journey. I will follow. Just to be with You. You and Me."
I quietly let the moment wash over me. It was so reassuring. So feeble in trusting Jesus sometimes, I stood beside this General who, in one brief exchange, put every worry or doubt to rest. I kept my eyes closed, not wanting to lose the moment.
"Jesus, I want to know all she knows about You. I want to be decided that way. Give me what she's got." I still seek for all she had, and more. I can only imagine what she's got now. What a reward.
What a Savior; what a Friend. Who else could beckon such deep love and trust in the midst of all that may (or may not) happen on our confounding journeys? No one else would be worthy of such devotion. Such love. Only the One who gave all just to have us close to Him.
Truly, He is so close to the broken-hearted.
Tomorrow, I'm spending some time fasting and praying for Kate McRae and her family (click the link to read her story). Kate's (7) diagnosis is also grim. But through the McRae family, I hear the same declaration echoed in brokenness and reverence: "I have decided". There are links on Kate's site to her parents' blogs. Join in praying for Kate's total and complete healing if you're willing/able.
