Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Sorrows and Rememberings

Whipping myself back into shape as a normal, functioning person has been a battle ever since the grief of losing my beloved Daddy invaded my life. Many friends have tried to understand what I’m feeling. And I am most grateful for those who try. It’s hurtful, after all, that some others have persisted in staying far away, as if hiding out so that our grief doesn’t somehow rub off to spoil their happy, healthy lives. As if grief were a plague.

I must admit, though, some days it feels so much like a blight. It’s about as welcome as an infestation of carpenter ants on redwood patio furniture.

This morning I was in prayer, expressing these deep emotions to my Father in Heaven, and a Scripture played across my mind, as if Christ Himself were reading it to me. You see, I’ve been working hard at Christmas curriculum for one of my publisher clients, so I’m in the mode of remembering the Messianic prophecies. Perhaps that’s one reason He chose to meet me in my grief today using the powerful images from Isaiah 53. I’m going to do my best to express them to you as they came alive in my heart. They’re not directly quoted, but nearly so. Here goes:

You say you are alone in your grief? That no one understands? That few walk with you in a meaningful way through it? Consider this … Your Savior is … “a man of sorrows, fully acquainted with grief.”

You feel as if those to whom you might have turned in your sorrow have given you their backs? Your Savior was “despised and rejected by men … as one from whom men hide their faces.”

You say the weight of grief is crushing you and grinding you into dust? Your Savior “has borne your grief and carried your sorrow.”

You say you are misunderstood? Your Savior became sin for you, so you might become God’s righteousness in Him, and yet those He came to save “esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted.”

You say there is no relief, no healing for your bleeding soul? Your Savior was “wounded for your transgressions, crushed for your iniquities, took upon Himself the punishment that brought you peace, and by His stripes you are healed.”

Now, I’m not saying that this fresh encounter with the reality of Christ’s coming alongside and bearing the burden of my grief is a quick, one-time fix-all that will snap-pop change me back into giggly Julie. But I’ve heard His voice in my heart of hearts, and I somehow know anew that it’s already been handled in the annals of eternity.

One day I’ll see with my eyes and know without having to exercise faith. For now, I take by faith what I know is already true in the heavenly realms: I have a loving Savior who did for me once and for all what I most needed Him to do. He dealt with my grief. He carried my burden. He handled my greatest problem of all—my blight of sin that made me subject to His Father’s wrath. And, right now, with His Spirit in me, walking beside me through this grief, He fully relates to my sorrow. That, alone, gives me strength to keep pushing through these days of sad rememberings.

Blessings and prayers, 

Julie 

 © 2013, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Sunday, August 4, 2013

Live Call-in Radio Interview Aug 5

Julie will be interviewed by Chris Fabry on MBN radio network Monday, August 5 during the 3 p.m. CDT hour of his broadcast. It will be a call-in show -- about the issues of caregiving -- revolving around Julie's newly released devotional: Comforting Words for Caregivers and those they love (Warner Press, 2013). We'd love it if you'd listen, call in, and most of all pray for all those who will be in the audience for the broadcast. Here's a link to listen online if you're not near a radio:

http://www.moodyradio.org/chrisfabrylive/

Blessings and prayers,

The Joy Media ministry team

Thursday, August 1, 2013

An excerpt from Comforting Words for Caregivers -- in honor of its official release today!



Blessings and prayers, Julie. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com