Glimpse
Sometimes it looks like God doesn't want to help us.
In the synagogue at Nazareth, Jesus said to them, "Doubtless you will quote to me this proverb, 'Doctor, cure yourself!' And you will say, 'Do here also in your hometown the things that we have heard you did at Capernaum.'" And he said, "Truly I tell you, no prophet is accepted in the prophet's hometown. But the truth is, there were many widows in Israel in the time of Elijah, when the heaven was shut up three years and six months, and there was a severe famine over all the land; yet Elijah was sent to none of them except to a widow at Zarephath in Sidon. There were also many lepers in Israel in the time of the prophet Elisha, and none of them was cleansed except Naaman the Syrian." When they heard this, all in the synagogue were filled with rage. They got up, drove him out of the town, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their town was built, so that they might hurl him off the cliff. But he passed through the midst of them and went on his way. - Luke 4:23–30
The people in Jesus' hometown were not pleased with him.
Word had spread that he was able to cure the sick and restore the lame, and yet when he came to his hometown, he didn't do these things.
His argument that not everyone can or will be healed did not satisfy them. They were angry and wanted to kill him.
I know a young couple who may be feeling the same way today. They lost their three week old baby boy over the weekend.
Baby Sean was born four weeks early, and now he is gone, a week before his scheduled birthday. So, was his premature birth a blessing or a curse?
If he had gone full term, would he have survived, or would the parents never have had a chance to know him and hold him?
Sometimes we forget just how precious and fragile life is.
Every moment of breath, every heartbeat is a gift, a struggle, a challenge, requiring strength and stamina, especially in the first days, as in the last.
Our hearts break when someone just starting out in life loses the battle, especially when the battle is not evident to us. We feel robbed, and rightly so.
No one wants to be reminded that our time here is not guaranteed. It is a daily battle, one that we could lose at any time.
We mourn the loss of baby Sean, whose parents just barely got to know him. Three weeks, twenty-one days. How many joy-filled memories can one treasure from those precious moments?
The lesson for all of us is clear. Treasure them all, every second, every minute.
The time we have here is but a glimpse of life, and all we truly have is the hope of everlasting joy when we come together again.
Pray for the parents. Pray for all who lose their loved ones too soon.
May the memories be their comfort, providing them strength, and may God hold them in the palm of His hands.
More to come...