The night before our daughter’s ceremony we had out of town friends over to the house. I can’t remember if we ate anything or not. I was walking in a fog. Four girlfriends gathered with me in Sommer’s room. We told stories about her. They commented on her style of decorating she chose in her room. We cried. At least I did and they allowed me to do that.
One sweet friend was there when Sommer was born. One was a God-mother. One came to the rescue by picking up Grammie from the airport and check out baby Sommer. Two came from California and one from Nebraska. My girlfriend lifeline was in that room December 9th, 2016. That may sound like a long time ago but trust me when I tell you it’s still too fresh and my emotions are quite raw.
We were in her room for a long while and we decided it was time to join my other guests who traveled to see us. I stood up from lounging on my daughter’s bed. Her pillows still smelled like her shampoo.
I may not remember this exactly but I’ll share how I remember the next part. We stood together and held hands to pray. Cathy said in a quiet voice “Heidi, pick a word you can hold onto.” I nodded and bowed my head to pray and it was quiet. She repeated to me, “Heidi pick a word.” I said I would and bowed my head again. She leaned in and said it again, ‘Heidi, pick a word.”
I looked at her face and the light bulb in my head went “BING!” Cathy meant to pick a word from the bible that would help me in my sorrow and she wanted to know what it was before we prayed. I don’t know if it was my grief that made the neurons, not fire or menopause because both are happening at the same time.
“Oh, you mean now,” I said. We all laughed at my brain freeze. Immediately I said “restoreth.” Then we prayed.
“He restores my soul,” Psalm 23:2 I love that Psalm, unfortunately, it gets used at funerals and not for our everyday walk with the Lord. But David lived it out. He personalized it.
“He is my Sheppard.”
“He leads me.”
“He prepares a table before me.”
“My cup runs over.”
“He restores my soul.”
David is not on his deathbed. He lives his life actively seeking and praising his father in heaven. That is so beautiful to me. And the icing on the cake is:
“I will dwell in the house of the Lord Forever!”
When I say “our Sommer” I am referring to all the peo[;e who knew her and loved and accepted her for her beautiful, childlike spirit.
That is exactly how we need to approach God. With childlike faith. He does not want our flattering prayers. He does not want us to pray as if we are in Seminary class. He wants us to talk to Him. Make our requests and believe He will do a mighty work. Jesus was a simple man. The majestic Son of God who humbled himself to be born in a stable with the shadow of the cross guiding Him. Yes, I said guiding Him. He became flesh and blood to release us from the bondage of sin and to defy death.
Because of this beautiful picture we see we all are sinners, not degrees of sin but SINNERS!
His deepest sorrow was when He cried out,” My God, why have you forsaken me?” The wondrous truth is: He was God-forsaken so that we could become God-forgiven.
Our Sommer was just like that. God-forgiven.
Are you? Think about it. It’s a simple thought. He loves us in spite of ourselves.