“As for the days of our life, they contain seventy years,
Or if due to strength, eighty years, Yet their pride is but labor and sorrow;
For soon it is gone and we fly away … So teach us to number our days,
That we may present to You a heart of wisdom.”
(Psalm 90:10, 12 NASB).
Why was I still alive? No one needed me.
My eyes locked on my brother’s closed eye lids and visualized myself in the casket. If that were me lying there, I asked myself, what would be my life legacy? My heart hurt in the revelation of my answer…
Shocked that my family was back here in the same building, the same room, and for the same reason, to see death, I wept. But this time, it was a sibling and the youngest at that…
God is sovereign, the giver and taker of life. He doesn’t play with lives. Scripture does say, “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for You are with me” (Psalm 23:4 a, b, NASB).
I knew God was with me, but Allan’s death didn’t make sense. After all, I had prayed for the Lord to take my life. The inner pain swallowed me up. I was stuck. My life didn’t make sense and I couldn’t connect the dots of my stories. I loved God. Read the Bible. And the Truth from what the Bible said was a part of my mental daily diet. But something was terribly wrong in my life.
During Allan’s funeral visitation, I looked around … My much loved brother died unexpectedly at only forty years of age, bringing out a lot of people to offer their sympathy.
… Being raised in a mid-west farm community where neighbors know each other, people showed their compassion and love through gifts of food, flowers, financial means, and cards. My heart broke to see such grief on display with love. Maybe that is what caused the cracking and opening of my heart. People grieved for what they saw. I did too, but I also grieved for what no one else saw.
As my eyes swept over the funeral home room, I felt as if God pulled back a veil that covered my eyes to keep me from asking myself, Where did Darlene Terrell disappear to?
The next day at the cemetery, I longed to drop to the frozen ground on my stomach between my father’s headstone and Allan’s grave. My hands then could stretch out to touch the two sites. I fit right there in the cemetery.
It would be easier to stay living among the dead, than to continue to deny the truth about my life… I had to walk away from despair and death. Yet at mid-life, how? And the pain from my secret only grew. If I left the cemetery, the death would be real. I needed God to show me the purpose I existed? And who really needed me?
“But the vessel that he was making of clay was spoiled in the hand of the potter; so he remade it into another vessel, as it pleased the potter to make” (Jeremiah 18:4, NASB).
- List who needs you.
- Name anything you are grieving silently.
- For what purpose do you believe you are alive?
A Growth Stretch-mark: God is the potter, I am the clay.
What was my life legacy?
Join me on Tuesday, January 24th, for a class on how to begin
What are sneak peeks?
What if I sense a call from God and it’s only a whisper?
What do I do with self doubt, fear, uncertainty?
JOIN ME –
on Jan. 24th at 6:30-8:00 EST for 90 minutes of teaching, coaching over my conference line and receive one private email at a low cost of $37.00, valued at $120.00. Join now in January and receive a locked in monthly fee per session you choose for $27.00 a month. This offer is only good in January, if you act now.