Grief

Finding Meaning in Suffering

/ Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.
2 Corinthians 1:3-4 (Emphasis mine)

Comforting Others

These verses are among my favorite passages in all of Scripture. They contain God’s promise to comfort me and remind me to share that comfort with others, thereby giving meaning to my suffering. 

It will soon be 30 years since I sat in an adult Sunday school class and listened as a friend requested prayer for her sister who had lost her husband suddenly to a heart attack. I was truly sorry for her family’s loss and prayed for them in the days that followed. A month later, my sympathy turned to empathy when I lost my 39-year-old husband, also to a heart attack. I no longer had to imagine what it must be like; I knew firsthand what it feels like to receive shocking news and to wander through your days, numb, with a part of yourself missing.

Ray died at work on a Saturday evening, so the pastors of our church shared the news with the congregation the following morning. I called my manager and my elementary-aged daughter’s teacher. Soon, my house overflowed with people from church, work, and school, some bringing food, all wanting to offer hugs and sincere sympathy.

Though I appreciated every visitor, two came that day who understood our pain better than most: one of my daughter’s best friends and her mother. They had lost their young dad and husband to brain cancer the year before.

My dear friend Sharon Betters, who lost her 16-year-old son in a car accident, says that our losses become our credentials, providing credibility as we point others to the God of all comfort who has comforted us. In the years since Ray’s sudden death, I’ve had the opportunity to come alongside other widows as one who understands, as one who can assure them that God keeps His promises. Promises to never leave or forsake us, to be a protector of widows and their fatherless children.

Sharing in Christ’s Suffering

Elisabeth Elliot’s definition of suffering – having what you don’t want or wanting what you don’t have[1] – reminds us that there are plenty of opportunities to suffer. 

Too often, I think of Christ’s suffering in terms of the events that happened after he was arrested – being betrayed, falsely accused, mocked, beaten, and crucified – yet His suffering actually began when He left His Father’s side, took on flesh, and dwelt among us in our broken, sin-scarred world.

Thus, the writer of the letter to the Hebrews assures us that we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin and encourages us to draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need (Hebrews 4:15-16).

Continuing in his letter to the Corinthians, the Apostle Paul writes, “For as we share abundantly in Christ’s sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too,” which brings us back to the assurance that God doesn’t reserve His comfort for times of direst need. He is the God of all comfort, a loving Father who invites us to bring our hurts to Him, even those we consider too small to bother Him with.

Depending on God

After assuring his readers of God’s abundant comfort, Paul goes on to describe an arduous experience he had in Asia: “Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death. But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead” (2 Corinthians 1:9).

Bible teacher Nancy DeMoss Wolgemuth[2] often says, “Anything that makes me need God is a blessing,” echoing the sentiment found in Paul’s statement.

When things are going well, it’s so easy to think, “I’ve got it all under control,” but no matter how smooth or trying our circumstances are, God is the One in control. Sometimes He needs to remind us not to be self-confident and self-reliant, but Christ-confident and God-reliant.

I’ve admitted many times that if there had been a sign-up sheet with the heading, “Get to Know God Better by Losing Your Husband,” I wouldn’t have put my name on it. But God did. Because He did, I’ve learned to depend on Him in ways I never would have if Ray had been with me. Finding Him to be absolutely, unreservedly faithful has strengthened and solidified my testimony. I can say with the hymn writer:

Jesus, Jesus, how I trust Him! How I’ve proved Him o’er and o’er . . . I’m so glad I learned to trust Him, Precious Jesus, Savior, Friend; And I know that He is with me, will be with me to the end.[3]

Dear Father, I will not seek trouble or intentionally cause myself pain; however, when trials come, I’m so thankful to know they pass through Your loving hand first. I trust You to use them to accomplish Your purposes for Your glory, enabling me to comfort others, share in Christ’s sufferings, and depend on You, the One who has the power to conquer death and every other lesser problem.

[1] Elisabeth Elliot, Suffering Is Never for Nothing (B&H Publishing Group, 2019), 9.

[2] Nancy DeMoss Wolgemuth is the founder and lead Bible teacher for Revive Our Hearts, a ministry dedicated to calling women to freedom, fullness, and fruitfulness in Christ.

[3] From “’Tis So Sweet to Trust in Jesus,” public domain.

Encouragement for Weary Souls, Encore

/ Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

Dear Readers,

I originally wrote this post to encourage friends who were navigating serious health issues with loved ones. Their journeys reminded me of the challenging paths I walked with Mom and Dad in the final months of their lives. Yet the memories were also laced with Scripture passages that sustained me during those trying times.

Now, over a year later, several friends have lost those loved ones, others are still caring for theirs, and some have received news that has placed them on the path of prayerful watching, waiting, and wondering more recently. Thus, I decided it was time to share these powerful promises from God’s word again, promises that I not only clung to as I walked Mom and Dad Home, but also return to when other difficult situations arise.

I expect some, maybe many, of you are on an arduous journey of your own. It is my prayer that one or more of these passages will offer the hope you need in the days ahead. 

New Mercies

But this I call to mind,
and therefore I have hope:
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
Lamentations 3:21-23

I was often mentally, physically, and emotionally spent by the time nightfall arrived each day, but every morning I would imagine the Lord had refilled my bucket overnight, so it was overflowing with His mercies for that day. 

Eyes Fixed

For we are powerless against this great horde that is coming against us. We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you (2 Chronicles 20:12b).

There were so many decisions I needed to make regarding Mom and Dad’s care, some of them downright gut-wrenching. I thought of the decisions being the great horde coming against me, and I prayed Jehoshaphat’s prayer – Lord, I don’t know what to do, but my eyes are fixed on You – repeatedly, sometimes multiple times a day, seeking wisdom from the Lord.

Light and Momentary

For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal (2 Corinthians 4:17-18).

When we’re in the midst of trying circumstances, the affliction doesn’t feel light or momentary, but for those who love the Lord, we know He’s working all things together for our good and is fitting us for our heavenly Home (Romans 8:28-30).

Weary

And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up (Galatians 6:9).

Sometimes the journey feels so long. You don’t know if you can keep going, at least not in the right spirit, without becoming frustrated or resentful. I asked people to pray that I wouldn’t grow weary in doing good, so I could honor my parents and God, who entrusted their care to me. I longed to reap the harvest of helping them finish their earthly lives with dignity.

Gentle Savior

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light (Matthew 11:28-30).

We are blessed to have a gentle Savior who understands our frailties and offers rest for our souls. He has promised never to leave or forsake us (Matthew 28:20b).

Comfort Others

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God (2 Corinthians 1:3-4).

As citizens of Heaven sojourning in a world marred by sin, there will be instances when we or our loved ones don’t get the diagnosis or outcome we hope for. At such times, we can rest in the assurance that Jesus is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit (Psalm 34:18). He comforts us so that we may comfort others and point them to the hope we’ve found in His steadfast love and faithfulness.

Ultimate Hope

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” And he who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” Also he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.” And he said to me, “It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. (Revelation 21:1-6a).

Whenever I read this passage, I want to shout, “Hallelujah! I can’t wait!” No more tears or death or mourning or crying or pain – that’s what God’s beloved children have to look forward to because He will indeed make all things new!

It has been five years since the Lord called Mom Home and almost three since Dad joined her. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t miss them, but I wouldn’t wish them back from Paradise. Instead, I look forward to spending eternity with them in the presence of Jesus. Until then, I will cling to God’s promises and strive to keep my eyes fixed on Him. I pray you will do the same. May you find great hope in these and other passages.

Covenant Family

/ Patsy Kuipers / 2 Comments

So we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another.
Romans 12:5

Not only am I blessed to be part of a close-knit family of kinfolk, but I’m also blessed to be part of a covenant family that knows how to love well.

A Hard Day

Twenty-nine Valentine’s Days have come and gone since my husband and forever love, Ray, was last with me to celebrate. I never know how the holiday will affect me. Some years, I remain upbeat; others, I feel my partner’s absence so keenly that tears overtake me throughout the day. This year was one of the latter.

Despite my best efforts to stay focused on the blessing of sharing life and love with a godly husband for 13 years, my thoughts kept returning to the fact that he’s no longer here and to how much I lost when the Lord called him Home.

It didn’t help that I couldn’t find the last Valentine’s card Ray gave me, the one I pull out each year to remind me how he felt about us. I knew exactly where it was supposed to be, but I found only an empty envelope. Dreary weather and spending the day alone deepened my melancholy.

By the time I crawled into bed that night, I was downright dismal. Unfortunately, my mood didn’t improve while I slept. A text from my daughter saying they wouldn’t be at church made me consider not going either. After all, tears were still flowing easily, and there would be no hugs from my grandchildren to ease my loneliness.

But I went.

Corporate Worship

As my adult daughters will tell you from childhood experience, I don’t take skipping church lightly. In-person, corporate worship is a duty and a privilege, ordained by God. Not only are we to praise Him and be cleansed, fed, and renewed by His word, but we’re also to encourage our brothers and sisters in Christ.

Simply being together, hearing one another’s voices raised in song, prayer, and praise, is encouraging (Colossians 3:16). I knew I had to get there. I had to be with my covenant family.

It certainly wasn’t the first time feeling low nearly kept me at home, but whenever I’ve made the effort to go, regardless of how I felt, I’ve never regretted it. Time and again, being with God’s people has reminded me that I’m not alone, ever, and has lifted me out of my sadness.

Last Sunday was no different. When first one sister in Christ and then another asked how I was, I answered honestly, “Not great.” Hugs followed my admission. One friend in particular didn’t shy away from the tears that flowed as I told her how hard it is to be without Ray, not just on Valentine’s Day, but every day.

Love One Another

But God didn’t stop there. In His over-and-above way, He provided more love from my covenant family in the form of a cheerfully decorated bag filled with homemade cookies and cards from the youth.

As I thanked one of the youth leaders on my way out, she told me they’d encouraged the kids to empathize with the recipients of the treats, those in our congregation who no longer have their spouses, and that some had gone deep in expressing their sentiments. Such was the case with the young man who wrote the note in my card. He shared several pertinent verses (Psalm 68:5, Deuteronomy 31:6, and Matthew 28:20b), then added a personal message that included, “Your earthly half may be gone, but your heavenly One isn’t, nor will He ever be gone.”

By the time I got in my car to head home, my mood had completely changed. Adam isn’t the only one for whom solitude wasn’t good. God made us for community, and last Sunday He loved me well through my brothers and sisters in Christ.

Epilog

Unlike last week, I eagerly got ready to attend church this morning, anticipating being with my covenant family. I smiled when I saw that our Scripture reading included the following:

And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near (Hebrews 10:24-25, emphasis mine).

It felt like an exclamation point to the gratitude I’d been feeling all week for the kindness I received, kindness that turned my tears into joy.

So, dear reader, show up! Maybe you’re the person who needs a hug, but more importantly, you might be the person God will use to give a hug to someone like me!

The End?

/ Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written:

“Death is swallowed up in victory.”
 “O death, where is your victory?
    O death, where is your sting?”
1 Corinthians 15:54-55

Others’ End

I usually enjoy seeing my Facebook memories. They remind me of happy times with family and friends and help me keep track of when various plants bloom from year to year. But sometimes the memories are painful. Such was the case recently when a post from January 2021 appeared. In it, I informed friends and family of Mom’s leg pain and asked those reading the post to please pray for wisdom regarding a proper diagnosis and treatment.

What I didn’t know then but am woefully aware of now is that three short months later, Mom would no longer be with us. She endured far greater suffering in those final months, especially in her last days after she broke her hip.

With each passing year, I know how life ends for more and more close friends and relatives.

I recently came across a list of folks to pray for that I wrote more than a year ago. While some on the list have recovered and are doing well, four are now with the Lord, fully healed like Mom, but oh how we miss them.  

February 6th would have been my husband Ray’s 68th birthday. But a few weeks after his 39th birthday, he went to work on a beautiful spring day, suffered a fatal heart attack, and never came home.

Life after the Fall is fragile indeed.

My End

I don’t know what my end-of-life story will look like, but I know my end will come, too, unless Jesus returns first. Since losing Mom and Dad, I’ve been more aware of my own mortality and of being the senior generation in my family.

Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I try to deny death. Yet having a front-row seat to my parents’ final months makes denial impossible. They were both capable, independent, hardworking people well into their 80s. Nevertheless, the ravages of age finally caught up with them, as they will with me unless I’m taken quickly, as Ray was.

Not the End!

During Ray’s funeral, one of the pastors declared, “For believers, death is not the end, beloved. It is a most glorious beginning!”

Over the years, that statement has become a touchstone for me. Losing a loved one still hurts because death separates us. We long for one more conversation, one more Starbucks date, one more stroll around the neighborhood, recognizing that those one-mores aren’t possible.

Yet we grieve with hope, knowing the separation is only temporary. Our loved ones are safely Home. Their end here was only the beginning of life in eternity. They will not return to us, but one day we will join them and the great throng around the throne, praising the Lamb forever and ever.

Blessed Assurances

Each day, I pray for those who are grieving recent losses, often adding, “All of us are missing someone, Lord. Please be with us, too.”

The raw pain of loss gradually recedes, replaced by a deep soul-sigh of longing that endures until it’s our turn to go Home. In my experience, we never stop missing our loved ones. So I’ll conclude this post with some of my favorite Scripture passages, those I turn to when I need to be reminded that death is not the end but a most glorious beginning for those who love the Lord. I pray they will comfort your heart, too.

In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also (John 14:2-3).

But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep. For this we declare to you by a word from the Lord, that we who are alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the sound of the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will always be with the Lord. Therefore encourage one another with these words (1 Thessalonians 4:13-18. Emphasis mine.)

I tell you this, brothers: flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable. Behold! I tell you a mystery. We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed. For this perishable body must put on the imperishable, and this mortal body must put on immortality. When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written:

“Death is swallowed up in victory.”
“O death, where is your victory?
O death, where is your sting?”

 The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. 57 But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ (1 Corinthians 15:50-57).

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place[a] of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” And he who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” Also he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.” (Revelation 21:1-5)

Christmas Tears

/ Patsy Kuipers / 2 Comments

He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.
Revelation 21:4

Significant Losses

For most of my life, the happy anticipation of my birthday and Christmas filled the month of December. Even though I was born a few days before Christmas, Mom always made sure my special day didn’t get lost amidst the other holiday festivities. I was blessed to have her with me for 62 birthdays. She went Home in the spring of my 63rd year. By the time December rolled around, my 90-year-old father had a live-in caregiver to assist him after the stroke he suffered a few months after Mom passed.

If I could have, I would have fast-forwarded to January. Mom and I had so many treasured traditions, I didn’t feel like celebrating without her. Still, I went through the motions for my family’s sake. By the time my second Christmas without Mom rolled around, Dad was in an assisted living facility, and by the third, he’d joined Mom in the presence of Jesus.

I wondered if the December joys I experienced for so many years would ever return. Finally, last year I felt the stirrings of old, familiar anticipation, and this year I fully embraced the joys of the season.

Sometime Every Christmas, I cry.[1]

Nonetheless, my post-Christmas melancholy is almost as customary as the happy anticipation that precedes the holiday, so I shouldn’t have been surprised when it arrived the day after Christmas. Not only were the gifts given and family gatherings completed, but also the Facebook memories of Christmases past greased the rails of the downward emotional slope.

As I gazed through tear-filled eyes at photos of family feasts and gift exchanges when Mom and Dad were still with us, I remembered a comment one of my friends made several years ago. Even as we mourn the empty seats at our table, longing to be with our departed loved ones, Scripture assures us that there’s an empty seat waiting for us at the heavenly banquet (Revelation 19:6-9).

A Breath Away[2]

A character on a show I was watching recently died. As he neared the end of his life, the rapt look on his face, accompanied by a statement describing a vision of deceased loved ones, reminded me of a similar experience I had with Mom a few days before her passing. I stood by her bed, trying to calm her constant fidgeting, when she became quiet. A look of wonder stole over her face. She stared past me, smiled as if gazing around a room full of loved ones, long gone, and whispered, “Is that Ray? There you all are! It’s been a long time. Do you remember me?” The moment passed quickly, but it left an impression I’ll never forget.

Likewise, there was the conversation I had with Dad’s hospice nurse as we waited together in the wee hours of the morning for the undertaker to come.

“Did your dad tell you he’s been seeing your mom?”

“No, he didn’t, but it doesn’t surprise me. I told him she’d be waiting for him.”

Christmas Hope

I know, like me, many of you are missing loved ones this Christmas season, some of you much more recently bereaved than I am. But because of the Baby in the manger, whose birth we just celebrated, we can rest assured that our believing loved ones are safe at Home and there’s a place waiting for us (John 14:2-3).

We will join them one day because that Baby was the Word made flesh. He dwelt among us for a while, full of grace and truth (John 1:14), yet despised and rejected by men. Sinless, He was crushed for our transgressions (Isaiah 53:3, 5) so that we can be robed in His righteousness (2 Corinthians 5:21), made perfect, fit to dwell with our high and holy God, who is also our Heavenly Father. He loved us so much that He sent His only Son to save us (John 3:16).

That good news isn’t just for December! The Christmas message infuses every day with joy and hope.

So take heart, dear ones. The separation is only temporary. Each passing day brings us closer to our real Home, where we will join those who have gone before us, rejoicing in the presence of our gracious and merciful King.

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” (Revelation 21:1-4)

[1] Inspired by lyrics from “Sometime Every Christmas,” by Michael W. Smith.

[2] Inspired by lyrics from “To Where You Are,” by Josh Groban.

Homesick

/ Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.
Philippians 1:21

To Stay or Go?

Many Christians have a life verse that sums up their calling and motivates them in their walk with the Lord. I have so many verses that sustain me depending on what I’m going through that I long thought it would be impossible to pick just one. I finally realized Philippians 1:21 was it.

After the Apostle Paul made the bold declaration recorded in that verse, he went on to say:

If I am to live in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me. Yet which I shall choose I cannot tell. I am hard pressed between the two. My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better. But to remain in the flesh is more necessary on your account (Philippians 1:22-24).

Paul was in a Roman prison when he wrote the letter to the believers in Philippi. Surely, he would have been better off had the Lord delivered him by calling him Home, yet he was willing to stay for the sake of the gospel and his brothers and sisters in Christ.

Holding on for Our Sake

I thought of this passage multiple times as I sat by Mom’s bedside as she spent the last days of her life in the hospital. I can’t imagine the pain she was in or how much she suffered, physically and emotionally, after she had surgery to repair her hip, broken in a fall. She was barely ever still, and the bruises from the fall, her surgery, and multiple blood draws created a pitiful patchwork on her paper-thin skin.

Those caring for her marveled that one so tiny could endure so much. Yet those of us who knew Mom best recognized the determination that had kept her going when faced with difficulties throughout her life, based on her faith and summarized in her life verse: “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” (Philippians 4:13). After loving us so well for so long, it was as if she didn’t want to leave us, even though it would have been so much better for her to depart and be with her Savior.

Letting Go of Loved Ones

Mom was my best friend, lifelong cheerleader, and most ardent prayer warrior. I couldn’t imagine life without her, much less praying for the Lord to call her Home. Even so, after watching her struggle mightily without making any progress toward recovery, that’s precisely what I did.

Still, she lingered. It was only days, but they were days that felt like months, as one dissolved into another. A friend observed, “Maybe there’s one more person for the Lord to touch with her life.” Perhaps there was.

Mom passed away ten days after she fell. She had fought the good fight, finished the race, and was pain-free in the presence of Jesus at last. I rejoiced in her victory over death, secured by the blood of Christ (1 Corinthians 15:54-57).

Longing for Home

I recently had the opportunity to visit my childhood home. When the current owner noticed my second slow drive-by, she came out to see what was up. As I approached her in the driveway, I introduced myself and apologized for bothering her. I was so overcome with emotion that I could barely speak the words: “I grew up in this house.”

I didn’t ask to go in, but even after exiting the house for the last time 37 years ago, I can still envision the exact layout of the rooms, as well as the furnishings. And when my dreams feature a house I’ve lived in, it’s always that one, despite the fact I’ve lived in my current home almost three times as long.

Pondering the wave of emotion that swept over me as I stood in front of my childhood home has led me to wonder what it will be like when I get to my forever Home, the one Jesus is preparing for me (John 14:2-3). I bet it will feel familiar and oh-so-perfect because, as C.S. Lewis said, “If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.”

Promised Reunion

Mom and Dad, my husband, baby sister, grandparents, aunts and uncles, brothers and sisters-in-law, friends – the list of loved ones who’ve gone on to Glory keeps growing. Just as watching loved ones suffer changes our perspective, making it easier to let them go, having more loved ones in Heaven makes it even dearer. Though being in the presence of Christ is enough to fuel our desire to depart and be with Him, the assurance of a grand reunion adds to our longing for Home.

I began with my life verse, and I will end with one of my very favorite passages, one that gives us that assurance and makes me want to shout, “Hallelujah! I can’t wait!” whenever I read it:

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away” (Revelation 21:1-4).

Dear Lord, we long to be with You and rejoice in knowing that one day You will call us Home to live with You forever. Until that day, please help us be faithful to walk worthy of Christ’s gospel and diligent in completing the good works You’ve prepared for us.

Joys and Sorrows, Past and Present

/ Patsy Kuipers / 2 Comments

The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.
Psalm 34:18

Missing Mom

I’m never sure how anniversaries and special occasions associated with now-departed loved ones will affect me. For some reason, the sorrow of facing another Mother’s Day, my fifth, without my beloved mother weighed heavily on me this year.

The floral shop is one of the first things I see when I enter the grocery store I frequent each week. I usually stroll by casually, perusing the pretty flowers and checking out the clearance section. After all, a bedraggled houseplant might need a home. However, on my shopping expedition a few days before Mother’s Day, I walked by briskly, trying not to gaze too long at the department overflowing with beautiful bouquets and cheerful balloons. I concentrated on my list instead of the fact that I wouldn’t be picking out anything for Mom. My heart ached knowing her sweet little self would have loved anything and everything I selected.

Timely Reminders

I returned home, put away my groceries, and opened my laptop to check email while I sipped the Starbucks tea I’d treated myself to. Fortunately, before I slipped any further into my melancholy musings, Tim Challies’ post, “Proud of Her on Mother’s Day,” caught my eye. Tim’s recounting of how his wife has graciously and faithfully carried on since the sudden death of their oldest child several years ago served as a gentle exhortation from the Lord. These lines, in particular, resonated with me: 

(S)he doesn’t allow herself to sink into her grief and become incapacitated by it. She has just one life to live and only the present moment to live it. She has determined she will not allow the sorrow of the sorrows to overwhelm the joy of the joys . . . Why miss the joys for grief? Why allow one great sorrow to overwhelm so many blessings great and small?[1]

His statement reminded me, in turn, of a favorite Elisabeth Elliot quote, “Teach me never to let the joy of what has been pale the joy of what is.”

Refocusing

Grief is too complicated to reduce to a glass-half-full or half-empty mindset. Still, instead of allowing myself to focus on Mom’s absence, I endeavored to focus on the blessing of having a godly mother whose presence graced my life for 62 years, whose steadfast faith and ardent prayers shaped my existence, whose love I still feel every day, and whose mottos come to mind daily as well.

Likewise, when I gathered with my children and grandchildren, fortified with the timely reminders from Tim and Elisabeth, I did not let the sorrow of loss overshadow the joyful blessings of the present. I gratefully received my family’s charming expressions of affection – hugs, cards, both handmade and store-bought, and a delicious lunch prepared and served with love.

Family Blessings

As He often does in His over-and-above ways (Ephesians 3:20), God added a special surprise to my day. One of my nephews and his wife were in the area visiting her family on Saturday, and they stayed over to join us for church and lunch. Not only did they add to the joy and laughter of our celebration, but they also shared the happy news that they’re expecting a baby later this year.

The cycle of births and deaths will continue until Jesus returns. We will grieve the loss of loved ones and welcome new little ones, knowing that one day, we’ll be together in the presence of God, reunited forever. We’ll get to know generations of family members and marvel and rejoice at the way God wove us into His family and His great big story. Until then, may we treasure the memories of those who have gone before us while savoring the present with those who fill our lives now.

Dear Lord, thank You for the blessing of family, whether immediate or distant, by blood, by marriage, or by faith, present physically or in our memories. And let us never forget the privilege of being your beloved children, for that is who we are in Christ (John 1:12).

[1] “Proud of Her on Mother’s Day,” Tim Challies, Challies.com, May 9, 2025.

Faithful God

/ Patsy Kuipers / 2 Comments

It is the Lord who goes before you. He will be with you; he will not leave you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed.
Deuteronomy 31:8

Know therefore that the Lord your God is God, the faithful God who keeps covenant and steadfast love with those who love him and keep his commandments, to a thousand generations.
(Deuteronomy 7:9)

Benefits of Aging?

This spring, our women’s Bible study has been working through Aging With Grace, Flourishing in an Anti-Aging Culture by Sharon Betters and Susan Hunt. Each time we meet, we begin with announcements and an ice-breaker. Last time, our question was, “Name one advantage or blessing you associate with aging.”

Some of us chuckled since it’s more common to have a litany of complaints instead of a list of blessings when it comes to aging – sagging skin, aching joints, a decrease in stamina, and an increase in episodes of “What was I looking for when I came into this room?” to name a few. But I knew my answer immediately because I’ve said it countless times in recent years: One of my favorite things about getting older is having more and more examples of God’s faithfulness to add to my mental file folder.

Sovereign Over Every Detail

In my last post, “April, A Month of Contrasts,” I described how difficult the last two weeks of April are because of the anniversaries of my husband’s and mother’s deaths. This year, I’ve been more intentional than usual about remembering Mom’s final days, motivated in part by coming alongside friends who are walking loved ones through health crises. It’s been a painful reminiscence because of the tremendous suffering Mom endured after she fell and broke her hip. However, as I’ve thought back to the ten days between her fall and Homegoing, Facebook memories and journal entries have reminded me how God continually went before us in details and decisions, both minute and massive.

A few examples:

Prayer and a Sack Lunch. I have hypoglycemia and usually carry food with me based on which meals or snacks I’ll need while I’m away from home. The morning Mom broke her hip, I was intent on getting to the hospital as soon as I could, so I  barely ate breakfast, much less took time to pack any food for later in the day. A brief conversation with the technician who came to X-ray Mom’s hip revealed he was a fellow Christian. I asked him to pray for us, which he did on the spot. I also explained my food dilemma and asked where I could get something to eat. He said vending machines were the only option in the emergency department because the cafeteria was in the main hospital, separated from the ED by a maze of corridors and locked doors. A short while later, when I thought I’d have to subsist on crackers, chips, and soda, the technician returned with a sack lunch from the employee break room, enough nourishment to keep me going until they transferred Mom to the main hospital.

A Well-placed Physician. Once the X-ray confirmed the fracture, we were faced with two equally daunting options: Agree to surgery to repair the hip and risk losing Mom outright or let the hip heal on its own, knowing she’d probably never be able to stand up or walk again. I accompanied Mom when they moved her from the ED, and who did I see making his rounds right outside Mom’s room? The very orthopedist she’d been seeing for several years about severe pain in her knees. Incredulous but grateful for the God-ordained encounter, I briefly explained what had happened and asked Dr. Chen to look at Mom’s X-ray. He did. Then, without hesitation, he said she needed the surgery and confirmed she’d most likely be bedridden and wheelchair-bound without it. Seeing how adamant he was after being equally adamant for years that he wouldn’t risk doing knee surgery on Mom helped us understand how high the stakes were and informed the first of many difficult decisions we’d have to make.

Daily Directions. Mom made it through the surgery, but ultimately, the trauma she experienced from the fall and operation was too much for her tiny body to handle. Our initial goal of getting her back home evolved as challenges mounted. In a matter of days, we went from approving PT and OT to authorizing palliative care. We requested the nurses stop drawing Mom’s blood and checking her vitals because the procedures increased her agitation. Finally, we determined to bring her home with hospice care. There was no opening for the in-home option that day, but a room was available at Tranquility, the in-patient hospice facility. In that aptly-named haven, away from the ever-present noise and activity of the hospital, Mom finally got to rest. Barely 24 hours after her arrival, she slipped peacefully into the presence of Jesus.

Doubts Dismissed

Ten days from Mom’s fall to her Homegoing. It seemed so much longer. Days ran into nights, which ran into more days, all filled with one gut-wrenching decision after another. Could I have done more? Should I have made different choices? I expressed my doubts and misgivings to our pastor a few weeks after Mom’s death. He replied, “Your leadership brought about a God-honoring, peaceful end for your mother, surrounded by her family.”

I know that leadership was only possible because the Lord went before me, directing and redirecting me the entire time. He answered my prayers for wisdom (James 1:5) and heard the petitions of the multitude praying for us.

Extensive Evidence

Examples of God’s faithfulness during Mom’s final days reside among myriad other examples amassed over 28 years of widowhood, including 14 years of His faithful provision since I lost my job. They support and reinforce my testimony: God is faithful. We can trust Him to keep all His promises. He’ll never leave or forsake us (Deuteronomy 31:8).

When we stand at the entrance to a dark valley filled with trials, we don’t know how long or deep it will be, but Jesus does. Not only does He understand the way we must take, but He will also travel the path with us (Hebrews 4:15-16). And, when it’s our turn to face the final valley of the shadow of death, we can rest assured that we will come out safely on the other side because our gentle Shepherd has gone before us to make a way (Psalm 23:4; John 10:27-29). He will lead us into the eternal light of His presence (Revelation 22:5).

April, A Month of Contrasts

/ Patsy Kuipers / 2 Comments

He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.
Revelation 21:4

Mourning

Inevitably, when the calendar turns to April, an undercurrent of melancholy seeps into my soul, regardless of what’s going on in my life. The seeds of sorrow were planted in the past and ripen into tears this time of year. I’ve lost several dear relatives in the month of April, including a great-aunt, an uncle, and a sister-in-law.

The most life-changing April losses were the deaths of my husband and mother. On April 19, 1997, Ray, barely 39 years old, left for work on a beautiful spring day, had a fatal heart attack, and never returned home, leaving me to raise our two young daughters on my own. On April 20, 2021, my 89-year-old mother fell, broke her hip, and passed into Glory ten days later after suffering unimaginable pain and frequent delirium.

The day Mom broke her hip was my dad’s 90th birthday. He joined her in the presence of Jesus in the wee hours of July 12, 2023, but no longer being able to celebrate his April birthday or watch the last round of the Masters golf tournament with him, as was our tradition, adds to the angst of this month.  

Never Forsaken

Those direct, just-the-facts descriptions of the bereavements belie the emotional punch each one packs. Every year, I’m intentional in remembering my last days with Ray and my first days without him. The numbness, inability to think clearly, and wondering how I’d ever make it without him colored my days. Now, in looking back, I see that God never left me then or in all the years since (Psalm 68:5).

I don’t spend as much time contemplating Mom’s final days. Being in so much pain was agonizing for her. Seeing her in so much pain was heartbreaking for those of us who kept vigil by her bedside. But I know we weren’t the only ones keeping watch over Mom. Her suffering Savior had endured even more, understood the pain, and never forsook her (Isaiah 53:4; Deuteronomy 31:6).

Joy

Despite the melancholy memories associated with the fourth month, April is also full of hope and joy. Here in Georgia, spring has arrived. The plants have woken up from their winter slumber. Trees are bedecked in fresh leaves, azaleas and dogwoods are blooming, and more flowers are popping up daily. It’s as if all creation is praising the Creator and mirroring the Resurrection story (Psalm 96:11-12).

April is also the month we usually celebrate Easter. Some years, my intentional reminiscences of Ray’s last days and Jesus’ final week overlap. Such is the case this year. As I remember my closing days with Ray, I will be thinking about all Jesus endured for us. A week that began with the Triumphal Entry quickly degenerated into betrayal, unjust trials, condemnation, beatings, mocking, and, ultimately, a gruesome death. The 28th anniversary of Ray’s Homegoing falls on the day before Easter, the glorious day that Jesus rose from the grave and changed everything forever (Matthew 28:6).

This week, as I engage in my annual tradition of remembering departed loved ones, I will rejoice in knowing that death doesn’t get the final say. The separation from God and beloved family members and friends is only temporary because Jesus paid the penalty we deserved so that we might spend eternity with Him.

So, I will shed some tears this week. Some will be borne of sorrow, some of wonder at God’s great love in sending His Son to die for us (John 3:16). I will revel in the beauty all around me, knowing it is but a glimpse of the beauty that awaits. And I will endeavor to add my hallelujahs to the chorus of praise because He is Risen! He is Risen indeed, and we are risen with Him! (Ephesians 2:6)

Encouragement for Weary Souls

/ Patsy Kuipers / 2 Comments

Dear Readers,

I have several friends who are navigating serious health issues with loved ones. Their journeys remind me of the challenging paths I walked with Mom and Dad in the final months of their lives. Yet the memories are also laced with Scripture passages that sustained me during those trying times. As I’ve shared them with my friends, I’ve recalled how powerful the promises of God are. I expect some, maybe many, of you are on an arduous journey of your own, so I decided to fashion this week’s post from the passages I not only clung to then but also return to when other difficult situations arise. It is my prayer that one or more of them will provide the hope you need in the days ahead. 

New Mercies

But this I call to mind,
and therefore I have hope:
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
Lamentations 3:21-23

I was often mentally, physically, and emotionally spent by the time nightfall arrived each day, but every morning, I would imagine the Lord had refilled my bucket overnight so that it was overflowing with His mercies for that day.  

Eyes Fixed

For we are powerless against this great horde that is coming against us. We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you (2 Chronicles 20:12b).

There were so many decisions I needed to make regarding Mom and Dad’s care, some of them downright gut-wrenching. I thought of the decisions being the great horde coming against me, and I prayed Jehoshaphat’s prayer – Lord, I don’t know what to do, but my eyes are fixed on You – repeatedly, sometimes multiple times a day, seeking wisdom from the Lord.

Light and Momentary

For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal (2 Corinthians 4:17-18).

When we’re in the midst of trying circumstances, the affliction doesn’t feel light or momentary, but for those who love the Lord, we know He’s working all things together for our good and is fitting us for our heavenly Home (Romans 8:28-30).

Weary

And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up (Galatians 6:9).

Sometimes the journey feels so long. You don’t know if you can keep going, at least not in the right spirit, without becoming frustrated or resentful. I asked people to pray that I wouldn’t become weary in doing good so I could honor my parents and God, who entrusted their care to me. I longed to reap the harvest of helping them finish their earthly lives with dignity.

Gentle Savior

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light (Matthew 11:28-30).

We are blessed to have a gentle Savior who understands our frailties and offers rest for our souls. He has promised never to leave or forsake us (Matthew 28:20b).

Comfort Others

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God (2 Corinthians 1:3-4).

As citizens of Heaven sojourning in a world marred by sin, there will be instances when we or our loved ones don’t get the diagnosis or outcome we hope for. At such times, we can rest in the assurance that Jesus is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit (Psalm 34:18). He comforts us so that we may comfort others and point them to the hope we’ve found in His steadfast love and faithfulness.

Ultimate Hope

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” And he who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” Also he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.” And he said to me, “It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. (Revelation 21:1-6a).

Whenever I read this passage, I want to shout, “Hallelujah! I can’t wait!” No more tears or death or mourning or crying or pain – that’s what God’s beloved children have to look forward to because He will indeed make all things new!

It will be four years next month since the Lord called Mom Home and two years in July since Dad joined her. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t miss them, but I wouldn’t wish them back from Paradise. Instead, I look forward to spending eternity with them in the presence of Jesus. Until then, I will cling to God’s promises and endeavor to keep my eyes fixed on Him. I pray you will do the same. May you find great hope in these and other passages.