But I have come to realize this life is not about being healed.
It's about bearing wounds for the sake of the One who bore them for us.
It is as simple as recognizing that God chose Tim's suffering for a purpose, and the splendor of His plan will be revealed as we trust in Him.
I know Christ will raise up, He will conquer, but when I read about the cross I want to close my eyes until the in-between pain is over. That "duck and cover" instinct is something I have gradually learned over the years. I remember being little and wanting to be a martyr so I could go straight to heaven. I'd like to think that I'd still have that kind of courage should I even be put into that situation but I honestly don't know. Maybe that's just part of being little and gloriously trusting. Kelley sent me a beautiful e-mail about a conversation between Trip (my oldest nephew, 6) and Chris (Tim's wife)...
I wanted to pass on a story that Chris, Travis' mom, shared with me over dinner last night.
When Tim was diagnosed with his brain tumor the boys added in their night time prayers, "God, please help Grandad get well." After Tim died, Trip began saying, "God, please help Grandad have a good life in heaven."
Chris was praying with Trip the other night and he added his usual prayer,
"God, please help Grandad have a good life in Heaven."
Chris replied, 'You know Trip, everyone has a good life in Heaven because it's Heaven, everyone is happy there.'
'I know Gramie. You know, Grandad is a saint now. Some people call him Saint Tim, but...' then Trip gets this impish, Trip grin on his face, '..but, I call him Saint Grandad.'
My heart is full of praise and thanksgiving for this boy...for my three boys who open my eyes to the joy of Heaven that is around me even now!
Trip's childlike faith made my eyes well up my heart long for that kind of joyful trust. We are all in the process of completing our part in God's divine plan; we are clay in His hands.