Sorry Jesus

 At 25 years of age I opened my heart to Christ in a road to Damascus conversion. From that moment until last Tuesday, 12th of January 2021, I trusted Jesus implicitly for 33 years.

It was after 7 years of walking with Him, getting to know Him. Recognising when he spoke to my heart, prompting me, reassuring me, guiding me. That our first storm hit.

Our Christ and King humbled Himself, preparing me beyond measure. When the tidal wave of grief came, I had already battened down the hatches. I was strangely ready. He had shown me He had sorted out the finer details, years before.

Just days before, the small hints appeared like a weather warning on the tv forecast.

‘Here deep in your heart, will be a pain so great, I will hold your heart in mine. Many will Pray, When the wave washes over you I will pick you up so you don’t fall, I will hold you safely in my arms, until the waters subside and the ground is firm enough to place you back down. Then I will take your hand gently yet securely, and together we can continue to walk together on the winding road.’

That is how I felt the text would have read, if Christ owned a mobile phone. 

Such was His creativity and attention to detail, the storm came yet it passed, with a mixture of sadness and joy. I felt safe knowing He knew. Being aware His plan was watertight, I learnt to trust.

Other precipitation’s and strength of storms of varying degrees have followed.

In 2007 when our dear mum passed away from cancer, He showed me that His plan was infinitely better than mine. If Jesus had answered my prayer, a repetitive one spanning 18 months, torturing myself, hoping she would pass in her sleep, so she wouldn’t have to face death head on.

 Every morning I would hold my breath as I took her a cup of tea. I’m eternally grateful God ignored my request.  Our dear mum would have missed out on the greatest party, that began on her 67th birthday, lasted 4 days, then with her children, her eldest grandchildren holding hands with her and  praying her through the gates of Heaven,  she continued to party as it was Our Lady’s birthday, Jesus’ mother, the day she left. 

She was ready, she was prepared and looking forward to a glorious new life awaiting her, the other side of the veil, her faith stronger than mine.

I learnt to trust more. The day after mum died, I reflected on how great was His Glory. I begged Him to explode me into a thousand pieces so I could float in it. Our  bodies are way to small to fit it in.

I reassured an anxious and hurting mum, after evidence of how Jesus sorts each passing of a soul into Heaven, that her 7 year old terminally ill son would have the most perfect send off, when it was his time. To encompass her emotions and those of his precious 11 year old sister. 

A brain tumour caused him to fade away, and we knew his time was close.  His 6 months of asking ‘when will I get my wings so I can fly to Heaven’  ended beautifully, indeed perfectly for a child that had a faith deeper than any grown up I had met. I learnt much on Willies final journey, Bless him.

So many others, you see God’s hand before, during and after.

I have never doubted His plan was the best plan, in all walks of life, we just have to be patient as we wait for it to unfold. Jesus doesn’t hand out disease, accidents, heart attacks like random confetti. No, he weeps with us as this fallen world creates opportunity for death and destruction. Pollution, man made technology, among many reasons we can fall into an abyss. But He promises us never to forsake us, never to leave us, but to carry us through the storm, sometimes to gently call us home, to rescue us from a world that is no longer exempt from sorrow.

Once I felt myself drowning in anxious thoughts mum would be taken from us. I looked up to Jesus and fixed my eyes on Him. Tears spilled over and down my cheeks. But the more I sought His face, the waters gently subsided. As they ebbed away, I got excited, ahead of the vision, I knew that when the water had gone I would be standing on a huge rock. 

I was so sure. But no, it was not a large rock, but God’s own hand, cupping me in His mighty palm. The verse from Isaiah 49:16  sprang to mind..’I have engraved you in the palm of my hand...’ The next day It transpired  mum had a bad bout of flu. I often soothe myself with this vision, when life gets tough, and anxieties seep in.

I assured my brother his last days would be in His mighty Hands. So much evidence over the years, how could it not be? David admitted although he had faith he feared suffering at the end of this life on Earth. Understandably he was scared. I prayed fervently for him, asking many to join me in storming Heaven. 

As the days fell helplessly from one to another, my brother’s heart so strong, would not stop to let his soul depart for a new adventure in Heaven. Ravaged by cancer, he struggled so much in those last days. The hospice predicted hours to go, all the signs were there.

9 days later his breath was more laboured, his body even more weary, his medicines being increased to keep the anxiety and pain at bay.

Each silence we counted in between exhaling and inhaling. 30 seconds, 45 seconds. He was peaceful. Please God if you are not going to miraculously heal him, then for him to pass now would be such a beautiful way to pass from this life to the next.

David was a phenomena, we were grateful God created him with a very strong heart, to survive the ravages of cancer, for as long as he had. But right now, a weaker heart would be a favoured one. Please God let his suffering be over.

So Tuesday in the early hours holding my brothers weary body up a little from the stacked up pillows, to help him as his reactive body tried to cough. Nothing was working other than the regular beating of his beautiful heart.

I had been praying, now I was sobbing, begging with every bargaining tool I could muster, for Jesus to call David Turner, loud and clear, so He would know to look to the light and smile as he saw Jesus’ face.

So where was our Saviour. This cannot be the plan. More pleading , crying, please o’ please come now, where are you...you cannot be real because if you were you would have come by now.

There I said what I never thought I would say, questioned what I never thought I would question. I cried louder, in despair. Where are you, where have you gone, I started demanding come now, please come now, right now, come Lord Jesus. If you are there why are you not coming?

I held my brother in my arms, kissed the top of his head and sobbed. Never in my Christian life had I ever been near to questioning His actions. I have always trusted there was a reason, that He was in control.

But my Lord had gone, disappeared when my dearest sibling needed Him more than ever before. I wanted to scream from the depths of my soul, you cannot be, you cannot be..I whispered again, in despair, crying out, where are you Lord, where are you? You are not...you cannot be ..

Dave settled down, I prayed quietly into the abyss. I felt abandoned. I did hear a whisper...I’m here trust me. But I didn’t want to listen, My brother was suffering, I knew best, I wanted him to be at peace, to be restored in all his glory, wanted his soul to fly with the angels. 

My dearest sister in law managed to get some much needed sleep, exhausted after an emotional 9 roller coaster days. Because of Covid Restrictions we were relaying, one visitor at a time. I passed her the baton, about 8am. Hugged her tight, 

She sat quietly next to his bedside for 2 hours, he remained peaceful. Then slowly his breaths became further apart. Gently, so gently, his beautiful soul departed, with a band of angels, his beloved at his side. Amen.

I’m so sorry God with all my heart I am sorry. You did have a plan, one that meant Catherine was strong enough physically and mentally to be there, and that it had to be her, for his departure, I had been acutely aware of that when the family sacrificed their precious hours to let me be by his side, I knew it would be unfair for him to go on anyone’s watch other than Catherine’s. Although she was anxious to leave him for more than an hour or so, she bravely and selflessly shared those heart rending unknown hours with their grown up children and me. Thank you God his soul mate of 30 years was present for the final gentle breath. Praise God.

Thank you, you did not give in to my selfish pleading, I should have trusted you as I always have. You are sovereign. You do without a doubt know best. You are always in the detail.

Please forgive me, I love you, thank you for taking my brother home, please tell him I love him and miss him already, Love Susie x

Footnote:

Hindsight is a good thing. When you are despairing and feel God has forsaken you, like Jesus cried out on the cross, remember if God had a plan over 2,000 years ago, for your life, sacrificing His only son, Jesus Christ, how much more can we trust in His plans today.

Hold on tight, and know ‘God has got this’

Amen!