The World Didn't Stop For My Broken Heart

And I wondered why.

I wondered why everybody seemed to be able to go about their merry way, doing their normal activities, thinking their normal thoughts when I was just trying to get my bearings for a new season in life that would not include my father.

That was almost 20 years ago. And, just recently my husband had to walk the road of losing his father.

Death is part of life and is inevitable, just like taxes. So, why do we get surprised when someone departs from this earth especially after living on it for nearly 80 years?

Pain, I suppose. Change, probably. A new normal, absolutely.

Regardless of the sadness my husband, his mother, his five siblings and the rest of us are enduring, I can guarantee you this: We are not grieving as those who don't have hope.

We all know Whom we have believed in. We know Who holds the future in His very capable hands. We know that His Spirit will comfort us like no person or possession ever could.

Wherever you are, whatever you've been through, whatever you will walk through in the future...God loves you and wants the best for you.

Of this, I can promise.

A Mess in His Hand

Have you ever seen the mess under your table after a full day of kid occupation and demolition? Gathering under your table are portions of pancake and bits of bacon from breakfast; glints of goldfish and hunks of ham from lunch; scattered salmon and messy mashed potatoes from dinner, and don’t even get me started on the ever accumulating pesky pieces of play dough, fragments of forgotten toys and determined debris from the yard.

You look at the mess under your table and become overwhelmed. “I just cleaned all this mess yesterday!” you think. Then, your mind begins its spiral into a dismal recount all of the housekeeping you do every second of the day – cooking, organizing, cleaning messes, picking up toys, changing diapers, doing laundry and that’s just the stuff you do at home!

I remember on one particular evening I finally cracked! I was so upset about the mess in the kitchen. It felt as though I looked away for one second and a tornado pointed its tricky finger down from ceiling, stirring the contents of my kitchen and brought it back up before I could see it. My mind started fuming, and I took a nose dive into my own pity party.

I angrily got the broom and started sweeping under the table. I filled my mind with all the little and seemingly insignificant things I do all day long. I questioned my purpose and the meaning of life, which at the time felt like was all about cleaning. I had no peace or joy, and I forgot all of the blessings God pours on me each day.

About one minute later my floor was clean (all that complaining for something that was so easy to do)! I walked over to the trashcan to dump out that day’s destruction, and I noticed how little the mess looked in the dustpan. I stared at the gathered garbage and laughed. I could hold all of it on the palm of my hand.

How could such a little mess cause me so much grief?

That’s when God gave me an important image. I know it sounds cliché, but I imagined all of my life’s problems in the palm of His hand, and they seemed small.

Everything is small compared to the power and love of God. If we give our lives over to Him, we are protected for eternity. Nothing can snatch us out of His hands. Though the messes of life – busyness, illness, divorce and death – surround us; we know that our Heavenly Father is holding them all in His mighty hand. He doesn’t promise that our lives will be easy; He simple promises that we will be able to persevere (James 1.12).

What messes are you dealing with today?

Do you trust that God holds them in His hand?

Will you determine your mind not to worry about situations that are out of your control? Let us praise God that we will be spending eternity in heaven with Him!


"Father, please help us to have faith that You truly have the whole world (including our messes) in Your mighty hands. Amen!"

“I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one can snatch them
out of my hand” (John 10.28 NIV).

Running Home

I'd like to share a recent newspaper column that I wrote which seems to have touched the hearts of several people. The tone may be a little more formal than usual and the metaphor familiar and simple, but it was written for an audience of both believers and nonbelievers. So this is what's on my heart this month, and it is the column that has meant the most to me personally. I hope it touches you, too.

Recently I lost a dear friend and high school classmate to cancer.

Since Jim was a world-class runner, I often think about him while running.

The day after his funeral, I decided to go for a run but dreaded it because I hadn’t run in more than a week and knew it would be difficult.

I started strong, but with each mile it grew more difficult to understand how Jim or any human could endure an ultra marathon, 50 miles.

At mile 5 I was enjoying all the beauty around me, but by mile 8, I doubted I could finish. By mile 9, I was gasping, my gait slowed to a limp, and my hips hurt so badly I wanted to cry. I just kept thinking, “Go to the next telephone pole. Make it to the next mailbox.”

At dusk, the scenery grew dim, but I saw the lights of my house in the distance. I became completely focused on getting home: seeing my family, resting and being refreshed. Nothing else compared to this end—no chirping birds, no red and gold leaves, no fitness goals. Home meant everything.

At the last mile, I thought of several friends who passed recently. All fought diseases that wore them down with each passing week or month much as the miles were taking their toll on me.

For so long, they relished their journeys and were not ready to head home. I wondered if there came a time when everything around them, while still lovely, began to dim as the lights of “home” became brighter.

Parting from people we love is sad, but the sadder thing is to be in a race with no goal in mind. Merely to run and run and run through life stopping only for one novelty after another is very tiresome.

I know some don’t believe we can have an assurance of a “home” at the end of our lives. I couldn’t see my house at mile 8, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there.

CS Lewis said: “I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.”

Faith in Christ isn’t “pie in the sky.” It challenges you to find meaning in suffering and death and prompts your spirit to admit, “This is hard truth” when truth must be faced, whether or not it’s politically correct or raises even more questions, such as, “Why Jim?”

As I grieve, I remind myself that Jim was not ultimately made for this life, beautiful as his life was with his family. He fought the good fight, finished the race and kept the faith (2 Tim. 4:7).

So now, at the end of each run when I re-live the joy of returning home, I take a second to think about Jim, who is really home, and that brings me an even deeper joy.



Please visit Linda Crow at her personal blog: 2nd Cup of Coffee and 2nd Cup Columns.

When the Bell Tolls, Will You Be Ready?

Recently during vacation, I awoke at 4:42 a.m. in a hotel to a frightening mix of intermittent, deafening buzzing and pulsating, blinding light.

Panicked and confused, it took me a second to realize that the fire alarm was going off. As I headed toward the door just a few steps away, I couldn't find my daughter because of the strobe of the lights piercing the night like paparazzi flashes, so I called her name and turned to pull her out of her bed.

Because she was already up and moving, I banged my forehead against hers so hard I saw stars, which only heightened my discombobulation.

Once we were assembled outside on the hotel's lawn, I realized I was wearing a knee-length night shirt and felt a little exposed, although everyone else was in the same vulnerable situation. The irony is, being the worry-wart that I am, whenever I travel, I always sleep in exercise pants and a T-shirt just in case there is an emergency -- except this time. I've always expected the moment to come, I just didn't think it would be this time.

I noticed that those assembled on the lawn were in the same boat: taken by surprise, feeling exposed, no credit cards, laptops or phones to distract us. We were a pitiful homogeneous bunch, waiting around for direction from someone in charge.

This unnerving experience prompted me to remember that inhaling one moment doesn't guarantee an exhalation. Even when medical knowledge gives us months to prepare for our exit, there is a definite moment when we are here, and then we simply aren't. It seems when anyone passes, we are all taken by surprise as I was during the hotel alarm. We do not seem to truly believe, as Hemingway said, that the bell will toll for us.

And when we move to the other side, no acquisitions or accolades we've garnered will mean anything as we stand empty handed, waiting for the next step from the One in charge.

During this same vacation, on a hike, I came across a small family cemetery and snapped a picture of a tombstone of 20 year-old Martha Ownby (1868-1888), engraved with these words:

Remember friends, as you pass by
Once I was as you are now
But as I am, you all must be
And now prepare to follow me.

I don't mean to be morbid in this post, but you can see that I had some interesting thoughts about death on this vacation!

Basically, both experiences reminded me that I have the same inevitable moment ahead of me as all who have come before me: "In a flash, in the twinkling of an eye ... the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed." (1 Corinthians 15:52).

I want to be ready when the bell tolls for me. That is, as I trust in Christ for my eternal future, I also want Him to help me live today the life that fulfills His purpose for me. In essence, being ready means trusting Christ for my salvation and finding my way each and every day by living and moving and having my being in Him.

Questions to ponder:

We know that when we part this earth, we'll not take any material possessions with us, but we will indeed leave everything behind, including a legacy. If asked, could you clearly state your personal legacy for those you leave behind?

How often do you anticipate heaven? Oliver Wendell Holmes suggested that we don't want to be so heavenly minded that we are no earthly good, but that is perhaps a response to those who claim Jesus only to be assured a ticket to heaven without any significance applied to life on earth. When you think seriously about heaven, how does it inspire you to live today?




Please visit Linda Crow at her personal blog: