God works in our life when our desire for serving Him outweighs our desire to fit in, to not cause conflict, to please the eyes of man.
Am I now trying to win the approval of human beings, or of God? Or am I trying to please people? If I were trying to please people, I would not be a servant of Christ. Galatians 1:10.
I think back to how, after my mom died, my Oma became so spiteful and angry at God. Never a conversation would go by without bitter words towards God being uttered from her lips. Years went by and my Opa died. The night before the funeral, I sat with pen and paper and wrote her a letter and wrapped up a book. Oh, how I didn’t want to do it, I was scared. Yet, I obeyed God’s prompting. The next day at the wake, I clutched the gift in my hands and approached her. She was seated in a straight back chair, and standing behind her with his hand on her shoulder was my intellectual agnostic uncle. I couldn’t shake the impression of Satan staking his claim on her soul. She unwrapped the book, and half-heartedly thanked me with blank empty words.
Years later, I write in my journal of my last moments I had with my Oma …
I sit beside her. We both know this will be the last conversation we will have together here on this earth. Small talk floats around the room awkwardly, then a moment of silence except the humming of the lights and the clock ticking. Relatives make an excuse to leave the room, giving us a chance to talk alone. I breath deep, knowing this is when I need to speak of “it”, the ugly inevitable thing called death. I take in the smell of this run- down hospital, and I exhale. I look at my Oma and know she is ready for life’s end. This will not be our first conversation of death, just our last. I say what we both are thinking. “You will be with my mom soon.” And she responds, “It is because of you, daughter of my daughter that I will be there, with my Ada (her daughter, my mother) and Jesus.”
A few weeks later, as my mother’s sisters sang Silent Night on a hot summer night in that smelly hospital room, she left this world with a smile on her face as she was welcomed into Jesus’ arms.
When we desire Him, when we delight in serving Him above all else, we can be used by Him in ways we cannot imagine. I had no idea God would use me to bring my Oma back in His arms. Listen for His whisper and obey.
Father, forgive us of our silly ways in which we fear speaking about your truths to those around us. May we be bold as we rest in confidence in your love for us, and through your love, we reach those around us that are hurting and lost.
- Sue Parrott
- Sue Parrott