Perspective

My older son and his new wife of six months arrived in Perth, just in time to celebrate Mother’s Day with me.  For the first time in five years I had both my sons with me, with two beautiful girls to boot.  You would think that I was over the moon at the prospect, but sadly, as the product of a broken home, Mother’s Day and Father’s Day have always been days I dread.  For years I would avoid church, as the celebrations would be too much to bear.  I discouraged my family from going to trouble to celebrate me and I would try as best I could to have “just another day”.  In later years, with social media becoming the way to communicate, I would try to be offline as much as possible.  Again, the photos of happy families enjoying each other’s company would be the source of great pain, reminding me of what was not.

Driving home from a lovely afternoon spent with the girls at a mother-and-daughter high tea in honor of Mother’s Day, the topic came up and the newest member of the family offered a bit of wisdom…”Nicky, instead of thinking of what you didn’t have, why not focus on what you do have? We’re here and tomorrow we will celebrate you.” Duh!  It seems so simple, and it is.  Shift your focus. Change your perspective.

Meditating on this, two portions of scripture came to mind.  I was reminded of the story of the Israelites crossing the Jordan, in Joshua 3.  God does this incredible miracle, piling up the flooding river Jordan, allowing a nation to pass through on dry ground.

The book of Joshua, chapter 4 continues with a directive from the Lord: When the whole nation had finished crossing the Jordan, the Lord said to Joshua, “Choose twelve men from among the people, one from each tribe, and tell them to take up twelve stones from the middle of the Jordan, from right where the priests are standing, and carry them over with you and put them down at the place where you stay tonight.” (v1-3, NIV)

Joshua gives the command and goes on to explain…to serve as a sign among you.  In the future, when your children ask you, ‘What do these stones mean?’ tell them that the flow of the Jordan was cut off before the ark of the covenant of the Lord.  When it crossed the Jordan, the waters of the Jordan were cut off.  These stones are to be a memorial to the people of Israel forever.(v6-7, NIV)

I want to juxtapose a story from Mark 5 (v1-5) with Joshua 4. They arrived on the other side of the sea in the country of the Gerasenes.  As Jesus got out of the boat, a madman from the cemetery came up to him.  He lived among the tombs and graves.  No one could restrain him – he couldn’t be chained, couldn’t be tied down.  He had been tied up many times with chains and ropes, but he broke the chains, snapped the ropes.  No one was strong enough to tame him.  Night and day he roamed through the graves and the hills, screaming out and slashing himself with sharp stones. (MSG)

These two stories seems unrelated, but bear with me for a moment.  Being honest, we have to admit that we resemble the madman in many regards…I am sure I am not the only one.  We make a home among the tombs and the graves, our minds wonder to the dead, dying and decaying parts of our lives, and no matter how we try, we cannot seem to reign our thoughts in.  No chain or rope can harness the meditations that keep us up during the night, tormenting our souls and draining our bodies.

How often do we slash at our own souls, as with sharp stones?  We live with regret, we bash ourselves and we weigh and measure, always to come up short.  We nurse wounds and we set up headstones in every wounded place, where we go to rehearse the past, where we mourn and weep and gnash our teeth.  True story!

Carry on reading Mark 5 and we see that it turns out well for the poor mad man from Gerasenes…not so much for the herd of pigs.  Jesus turns up and does what He was sent to do.  He sets the captive free.  He restores the man, He heals him and the man is found “clothed and making sense, no longer a walking madhouse of a man”. (V15, MSG)

Now I want to tie the two portions of scripture together for you.  In verse 18-20 we read how the madman’s story ends.  As Jesus was getting into the boat, the demon-delivered man begged to go along, but he wouldn’t let him.  Jesus said: “Go home to your own people.  Tell them your story-what the Master did, how he had mercy on you.”  The man went back and began to preach in the Ten Towns area about what Jesus had done for him.  He was the talk of the town.

The man did as Jesus commanded – he went home and started to build another memorial…not with stones from the river as the Israelites did…but with his words.  He told his story, just as the memorial stones told a story.  This is what we are called to do.  We are to come to Jesus and we are to look to Him to heal us and set us free.  Then we tell our stories of what He did, of how the Lord had mercy on us, instead of begging Jesus to take us away with Him.

So I will tell you the story of my Mother’s Day.  With an open heart I accepted the love and kindness from my husband and my children, I ate the cake made especially for me, without counting the calories or fretting about the sugar content.  I had the second piece of my favorite chocolate, snuck in by my husband, while playing cards with my loud sons, remembering them as boys.  I received the gift of being served by my family, watching my tribe prepare lunch for me.  I just received.  Instead of missing those who were not present, I enjoyed the ones who were.  I saw how my sons loved on their wives and recognized that we did well, raising them.

I had many proud “mumma bear” moments throughout the day, but none such as the overwhelming gratitude of what the Lord had done, when I stood in church, the presence of the Holy Spirit tangible and near, my husband by my side and both my sons, with their wives, worshiping God together.  I felt Jesus’s healing touch on my very wounded heart, I received forgiveness and the grace to also forgive.  I recognized that my end will be better than my beginning and that the Lord had indeed shown mercy to me – in more ways that I can count.  I have an inheritance in my children, so I am humbled and I give thanks.

O give thanks to the Lord, for He is good; for His mercy endures forever.                                                                        Psalm 107:1