A Crown and an Ebeneezer
I have always been such a visceral person, which is just a fancy way of saying I have big emotional encounters with life as a whole. I tend to engage with moments and memories from every fiber of my being. There are certain smells that can immediately transport me into the presence of someone I have not seen or even thought of for years. There are songs I hear are sing that feel like they live within my skin they have such close connection to a life experience. There are textures that can almost manifest an object from the past right into my fingertips. There are roads I struggle to drive on as the memories they hold play like a movie reel, for better or for worse, across my mind. While this often can feel like a handicap I carry around, there are other times where it can ingrain an Ebenezer so deeply into my core I will never be able to deny God’s hand even if I wanted to. This picture right here, captures such a place where the Lord alone was our help.
As we sat together, hand in hand, around my mother in law, watching the veil between Heaven and Earth thin, my husband asked me if I would read scripture out loud. The Lord brought several to mind, many words of broken hearts, God’s presence and promises rushed over my spirit, and after reading several of those, I remembered a wise teacher walking me through the end of Paul’s life, and these words hovered over us in a stunning holy moment:
“As for me, my life has already been poured out as an offering to God. The time of my death is near. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, and I have remained faithful. And now the prize awaits me—the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will give me on the day of His return. And the prize is not just for me, but for all who eagerly look forward to His appearing.”
As tears ran down our faces, a beautiful idea began to form across my sister in law’s heart. Not long before this moment, a woman who specialized in helping families guide children through grief had come to visit with us. As she graciously wept and held space with us we told her about our children, and our Momma concerns for their responses and how to navigate such big things like loss, grief, funerals and the parting with a body of a loved one, this wise woman suggested to give them jobs for their hands and their hearts. She asked if our kids like to craft, which caused us to snicker a bit, as “like” is not a strong enough word for how our babes feel about creating. That one seed she planted, gave birth to the offering our babies needed to create to honor our beloved Bebe. Sitting amidst the beeping of machines, and the strums of the old hymns as we waited in that awful and holy place, Leah said “I know what they need to make. They need to make her a crown.”
So, here we raise this Ebenezer, hither by Thy help we’ve come, and we will never forget what our eyes have seen, our ears have heard, what are our hearts have felt as they have broken and been kept by You, Lord. Even as we limp from our encounter with You, help us keep the Truth of who You are always on our lips. Let us taste and see that You are always good even when this broken world is not. Let this Ebenezer, as we all walk each other home, remind us what awaits us with You. Let us never stop telling of who You are, until our own race is done.