Journey 31 - Moody Radio Mornings with Audrey

Every single opportunity we are given to share James' story, we know we speak of a sacred and holy time when God showed up in brilliant color in the midst of dingy greys. Into our dismal picture He stepped, bringing with Him a pallet of dramatic hues, energizing sprays, sustaining shades that transformed our trembling family portrait into a visual of grace, mercy and hope. Each occasion to recall what He allowed and where He took us and what lessons He taught us along the way is a reminder of His infinite ability to transform pain and use disappointments and measure grief so it cannot destroy. At the book signings where I read a portion of the story, at Bible studies where I share an application from a portion of the journey, at children's events where I highlight James' journal entries, and in radio interviews like the one Moody radio presented in September, each one becomes a bitter sweet moment, where time stops, where I am suspended between what has been and what God is making of it.
The journey continues, it did not cease when we lowered that precious body into the earth. My God, who stills storms and lights darkness and fills voids, He is the ultimate story-teller. He is writing James' adventure still. Death was not the ending; it cannot win. It must bow before the God of the universe who does all things well. He is the artist and the author. I wait to see what is yet ahead.

Journey 30: Interview on Moody - Chris Fabry Live

She walked away from me after one last hug, curly hair bouncing merrily, face confidant, dark eyes twinkling with excited anticipation. Our 18 year-old daughter Jacqui was ready to soar, and I almost sensed wings fluttering as she sauntered towards her new college dorm. I dried my tears as my heart filled with joy at the sight of our perfectly happy girl. How could I weep over my loss when she was fulfilling her dream and embarking on this new adventure?
Should I react differently for James?
Two years ago I gave him one last hug before he soared to heaven, squeezed him tightly, kissed his delicious face, and let him go. It was not my choice. God called him and we were forced to relinquish our treasure. But he lives now perfectly happy, filled to overflowing with endless joy. He is not homesick for earth as he relishes the majesty and brilliance of eternity. I must wipe my tears away and focus on him, intensely preoccupied with his Father's business, soaring free, angel wings fluttering in accompaniment.
So now I get to tell his story. Yesterday I sat with microphone before me, headphones pressed against my ears, radio waves transporting the message I always imagined he would one day relate. But those were my plans. I serve a Master who does all things well, who is faithful and true, who never makes a mistake. As He supplies the grace, I will share James' story with any willing to be reminded of the hope Christ provides, regardless of the good-byes he calls us to endure.

Copyright 2008 Moody Radio
From the program: Chris Fabry Live

Journey 29: It's Arrived

As I crafted James' story, as I attempted to put words to all we had endured, as I relived and recalled the agony and the joys of living with James through all he had to go through, what God had called him to do, I desired above all else that the book would minister to hurting hearts, would remind others that God is sufficient, regardless. As I edited, proofread, re-wrote and remembered, I longed for people to know James, to understand his story, to be inspired by his triumphant life. I desired that the Lord, who Himself had carried us in His arms through every moment, would take this little book about this little boy and do big things, God-breathed things.
Now, the book is available and I finally have the privilege to share it with others. And I have been absolutely surprised. The early comments tell me that God is already using James' story to tenderly touch and powerfully impact the lives of readers everywhere. I am amazed. I keep bringing the book and placing it in the Lord's hands just like the little boy once did with his meager lunch. I know He will bless it and I pray He would use it continually to feed the hurting hearts of many.

Journey 28: A Resemblance of Sorts

Far too often I resemble the disciples on the road to Emmaus.
Downcast and in despair I trudge along, walking away from my own confusing Jerusalem, where things have not gone quite as I expected. I too misunderstand exactly what God is allowing in the fog that surrounds my circumstances. Like those two favored ones who walked with the Lord but knew not who he was, though his breath warmed their faces as he strolled by their side, I too fail to grasp that he journeys beside me, waiting to reveal himself in his perfect time.
Why he chose to travel with those two who did not identify Him comforts me when I too cannot sense His presence. Into the muddle he steps, to clear away the chaos, to disclose truth, if I would just let him break bread and feed me where I am.
What is it that keeps me from recognizing him now? My face is downcast like theirs, and I stand still in my tracks like that pair of ancient followers and ask my Lord incredulously, “Do you not know the things that have happened in these days?” (Luke 24:18). Lord, have you been absent from your post that you would allow this dreadful situation to overcome me? Master, do you not know precisely what has happened to me in these days, in my Jerusalem?”
I am quick to reprimand him, swift to try and fill him in on my woes, just like them. As if he did not fully comprehend exactly what had just taken place on the cross and in the tomb. They were informing him of his own experience, instructing him in what he knew by heart. Ignorantly, they believed him to be uninformed and out of touch. Do I not treat him with the same disdain when I attempt to inform him of my complex scenario, believing foolishly that he does not already know every precise detail that has enfolded me?
He rebuked them, and rightfully rebukes me too. “How foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe…”(Luke 24:25). How foolish I am to think for a moment that the Creator of the Universe is powerless to work in the middle of my void. How slow I am to believe all those promises he has made, all those reminders of his unconditional love that are written in black and white on sacred pages no king or tyrannical ruler has ever been able to wipe out.
“Did not the Christ have to suffer these things and then enter his glory?” He reprimands and reminds those two who are struggling towards Emmaus. Do I not have to suffer these things that he has allowed as well? Is my suffering not also for his glory? Can I not trust the one who knows exactly what suffering is all about, who refers to himself as “a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering”. Can I call myself a follower of Christ if I am unwilling to bear some sorrow as well?
Like those disciples on that dusty road I would say now, “Stay with me.” Do not leave me just yet. Reveal more of yourself while I listen for your voice. Open the Scriptures to me and let my heart burn like those two comrades of old. Break open the Bread of Life and feed me so my eyes will be opened to recognize that you are in my midst, on the dusty road, in the middle of the journey, on my way home.