What kind of an observer are you?

Yesterday, I received news that my dear neighbor, Max, had passed away.  The news came as quite a shock.  You see, Max had already been treated and determined cancer (lymphoma) free once.  Then, about 6 weeks ago, maybe less, we found out he had brain cancer.  He was doing well the last time we saw him.  We had just prayed for our unsaved neighbor, who is also battling illness and prayed for Max as well.  Then the phone call came at 10 till 8:00 am yesterday morning.

It turns out the cancer had nothing to do with his death.  He had contracted pneumonia and after his radiation treatment on Thursday, they could not stabilize his vitals.  His wife, being a nurse, explained it in such a way that I don't know if I understood it all, but she did tell us it was peaceful.  Peaceful for him, painful for the rest of us.  It doesn't matter where your hope lies, death always strikes grief in the hearts of all God's children.

Max and his family are from Zimbabwe.  They are incredible people and probably the most godly I have ever known.  He was a bi-vocational pastor who also worked at one of the local car parts plants.  No matter what trial he was going through, including his recent bouts with cancer, he praised the Lord and smiled and found ways to encourage those around him.  "God is good," you would here here him say.  And, he meant it.

As the day wore on, we went to my daughter's 5 year well-child visit and I got checked out for sore throat and ear ache.  Being cleared of any infection, we went over to visit our dear friends.  Actually, they are more like our extended family.  Both my husband and I feel like we've lost a close cousin.  His wife, step-son, and two daughters, in addition to his mother who has been here since his first cancer diagnosis are all left behind.  I even feel a little jealous since he's rejoicing in the presence of our Lord and Savior, and we are here, in this fallen world, left to grieve.

Yet, Max's death was not in vain.  One of the first thoughts I had was maybe now, my unsaved neighbors, whom we also consider extended family, will be more open to talk about God and the seeds of salvation may be watered and God could reap a great harvest.  

Oh, but God's vision is so much greater than our own!  I had no idea what an impact this man had on those around him - on me and my husband - until yesterday evening.  I realized later in the evening that I had been led to turn down an opportunity to volunteer at the Winter Jam concert last night, but rescinded because of illness.  I just didn't feel up to a long concert on my feet, despite the exciting line-up..  God held me back for His purposes.  Let me explain.

Max and his family belong to the Seventh Day-Adventist denomination of faith.  They observe the Sabbath much like the Jews do, from Friday evening at sundown to Saturday evening at sundown.  Doctrinally, they only differ from others on a few minor points.  However, there is no doubt, not a single solitary doubt, that these people love Christ and LIVE Christ.  Oh, have my eyes been shielded by the world's version of Christianity!  And, now, I know just how thick the scales have been.

Max's nephew, Cathbert (sp?) gave the message last night after a time of worship in their native tongue, which was beautiful and oh, how I longed to know the words and sing along.  He shared how much he loved God's Word and the stories within it.  He shared with us a passage that he felt suited all situations, from minor setbacks to "tornado-like" events in our lives and yes, even the death of one so dear.  He read us the first few verses of Jeremiah 18:

 
"The word which came to Jeremiah from Jehovah, saying, Arise, and go down to the potter’s house, and there I will cause thee to hear my words. Then I went down to the potter’s house, and, behold, he was making a work on the wheels. And when the vessel that he made of the clay was marred in the hand of the potter, he made it again another vessel, as seemed good to the potter to make it." 

(Jer. 18:1-4 ASV).

I was confused at first.   But, oh, did he have my attention.  He seemed to speak directly to Norah, Max's widow, as he explained the passage to us in a way I have never heard.  I don't even know that I have really read this passage before, to be honest.  Cathbert explained that Jeremiah was no one special.  He was a lay person, by all accounts, and he was told to "arise and go" to "hear" the Word of the Lord.  Yet, Jeremiah did not actually hear anything at first.  He observed.   And, what did he observe?  That the piece of clay that the potter was working with was marred.  Think about that.  The ". . .vessel that he  made was marred in the hand of the potter. . . "  Cathbert continued.  Jeremiah watched as the potter took this marred, yet still malleable piece of clay and "he made it again. . . , as seemed good to the potter to make it."  He made it again, into a new shape, as Jeremiah watched.  And, we all knew.  The Holy Spirit echoed in our minds and hearts as Cathbert spoke it - "And he that sitteth on the throne said, Behold, I make all things new. And he saith, Write: for these words are faithful and true." (Revelation 21:5 ASV).  God makes all things new.

You see, Max's life was literally a walking testimony to the power and glory and goodness of God.  He always greeted you with gladness.  He never complained or grumbled, even when telling you about his physical pain.  I'm reminded of the Brandon Heath song, "Jesus in Disguise."  If Max wasn't Jesus in disguise, I am really missing out much more than I ever thought.  Cathbert relayed that over the course of the last week or two, Max took time to send encouraging texts and emails to his brothers and sisters in Christ, despite his many doctors' appointments and radiation treatments.  He was always pointing those around him to the one true and living God.  And, I have been like Jeremiah, sitting on the sidelines watching him live out his faith.  But, what have I done with it all?

I think the conviction struck its hardest blow when Cathbert shared what he overheard Max's 7 year old daughter tell her grieving mother.  I will paraphrase. .  ."Momma, why are you crying?  Daddy is with Jesus.  We will see him again when Jesus comes to get us."  Norah, trying to be strong, says between the sobs, "I know; I know."  Little one says, "Put it this way, Momma.  Daddy has gone on a long trip for work and he is not coming back any time soon - not until Jesus comes for us."  What 7 year old says that?  What adult has that kind of grasp on the hope and blessed assurance that we have in Jesus?  Max and his family, his church, his friends.  Oh, the painful, yet gentle hand of conviction later drew me to tears.

So, what kind of observer are you?  Me?  I found out that I'm no Jeremiah.  Jeremiah realized that there was an analogy in front of him that he didn't have to hear audibly, though he did later in the passage.  God was speaking to him through the actions of the potter.  "O house of Israel, cannot I do with you as this potter? saith Jehovah. Behold, as the clay in the potter’s hand, so are ye in my hand, O house of Israel." (Jer. 18:5 ASV).  Jeremiah was an observer - and he understood.  I've always heard the analogy of God being the potter and I am the clay.  I know that God makes all things new.  But, what have I done with that knowledge?  I have been a silent, inactive observer.  And, that begs the question - who is watching me?  What does my life tell them about Christ?  Oh, it's a painful and humbling conviction.

I don't want to be just an observer who just acknowledges what I see but does nothing with it.  I want to be like Max, a person who loves Christ and LIVES out my faith.  I don't want to fail my family any further.  I don't want to cheat myself, let alone the others who are watching me.  What am I going to do with this loss of fellowship?  How am I going to react to the grief I feel and see around me?  Cathbert challenged us - let God make you new again.  Oh, doesn't He do that anyway?  With new mercies every day, Christ wipes away the scars and blemishes and gives us a chance to start over again.  But, it's what we do with that opportunity that really counts.  Are you, am I, going to be a silent observer and hearer of the Word and the work of the Holy Spirit or are we going to respond?  I don't want to watch from the sidelines anymore.  I want to get on my knees and beg for forgiveness and ask the Lord to truly make me anew.  I want to be an active observer and participant in the kingdom of God - just like my dear friend, Maximo Lunga.  

I know Max is fellowshipping with the saints in Heaven right now as his family and friends gather across the street to mourn together, comfort one another and try to move forward.  Why does it take such a loss to realize what we had?  God's purpose is so clear.  Sometimes He must make beauty from ashes to give us the new life we crave, that we are entitled to, and the reason He sacrificed His son, Jesus so that we may be joint-heirs with Christ in the kingdom of God.

As the tears stream down my face, I pray that any one of you reading this realizes what God wants to do in our lives.  We just have to stop being so distracted and busy and we must  listen - with our ears, our eyes and our  hearts.  He is speaking to you and me at all times.  Do you hear him?  What will your response to the Potter be?  For me, I lift up my hands and say, "I am yours, Lord.  Mold me as you will.  Make me new - again and again and again - until I am changed to reflect You or You call me home." 

Rest well, my dear friend, Maximo.  Rest well and enjoy your reward.  I shall see you soon, but not soon enough.

Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine!

Oh, what a foretaste of glory divine!
Heir of salvation, purchase of God,
Born of His Spirit, washed in His blood. 

 

Refrain: 

This is my story, this is my song,
Praising my Savior all the day long;
This is my story, this is my song,
Praising my Savior all the day long.

Perfect submission, perfect delight,
Visions of rapture now burst on my sight;
Angels, descending, bring from above
Echoes of mercy, whispers of love.
 

Perfect submission, all is at rest,

I in my Savior am happy and blest,
Watching and waiting, looking above,
Filled with His goodness, lost in His love.

Frances J. Crosby, 1873