Be Still

I love the gentle and quiet ways in which God loves us.  Last week was an incredibly exciting week as I released my first book, Expecting Faith, but it was also a hard week emotionally. Sometimes with great joy comes great heartache. 

Both my parents taught me and demonstrated what faith in Jesus is and looks like, but it was my mom who sat with me in the middle of the night after another bad dream when I was nine years old and explained what it truly means to be a follower of Christ as we put our faith in Him rather than ourselves.

She was the one I would see sitting at the dining room table in the wee hours of morning spending time with the Lord before we got up.  (My dad did too, but usually behind a door in the quiet of his office at church or at home.) She was always finding ways to serve those that needed serving, love those that needed loving, or pray for those that needed prayer—and boy did she pray faithfully!  I can still recall Bible stories and verses by songs that I learned under her direction as children’s choir director. I imagine many other children can as well from her leading over the course of 30 plus years.

So, when it came to people gathering to celebrate the launch of my book this past week, there was great joy and excitement but there was also a sadness—my sweet momma would not be there in the audience. She is in a much greater audience for the past 10 plus years—the audience of Jesus.  Not once am I sad for her, because I know she no longer deals with all the things we deal with in this life. But I still miss her often and even more so on the special days. 

She was a great woman of faith, who left a legacy of faith and thankfully got to meet and hold my daughter Faith before going home to Jesus. 

When I was getting ready for church yesterday, the morning after the launch party, one of my dear friends that I met 13 years ago, a hostess of my launch party, and the one who gave early feedback on my book, sent me a picture.  She knew I had an up and down week emotionally missing my momma.

Her quiet time took her to Hebrews 11, a page she hadn’t been to in some time, and there at the bottom was a note tied to Hebrews 11:4, one she wrote while at my mom’s memorial service…

“January 23, 2016- Lynn Chappell’s funeral. Let your life speak about your faith even after you have died.”

A full circle God moment, and a giant hug from my Creator to remind me that though she was not there in body, her faith is still speaking… sometimes even through me.