Boundaries are an amazing thing when they are based in health and life wellness where self-preservation isn’t the primary driver but an overflow. I think many times we manufacture parameters that keep us comfortable, sometimes sheltered; however, this should never be a function of self-effort. Regardless of your situation, if you’re contending with mental and/or emotional deficits, if you’re being unfairly handled with negative physical implications, adhering to limits and routines can be healthy.
Grief is a gift that allows you to encounter and encourage people who have been there. Grief tears down walls, lets you meet people who understand pain and suffering with compassion, and promotes vulnerability along the way. Essentially, grief is a powerful tool in our ministry arsenal and can capture hope (and our ability to respond to it) in relatable ways.
Contrary to popular belief, not only is there a difference between mourning and grieving (see breakdown below) but there’s room to receive hope and choose joy in each case. While some people think you have to grieve to mourn only to get to the “good stuff”, this simply isn’t true. If we try and move people away from sadness instead of encourage them through it, we’re marginalizing God’s ability of reconciliation as it intends to operate through the saints. In an ideal world, the church can be a leader in the conversation, serving as an oasis for those in crisis where God’s healing presence is fostered.
Note: Per point #3, consider grief as a container holding your thoughts, feelings, and experiences when someone (or something) you love dies. In short, while grief is the internal meaning given to the experience of loss, mourning is when you allow grief to manifest externally with the aim to persevere and endure.
Note: A more detailed analysis of this passage will be included in the Juby Journey book I’m working on. For now, I’m converting preliminary thoughts into the SOAP Bible study below to archive insight and encourage the saints in the short term.
As one dealing with grief, who went through the ringer last year while Juby was alive, I can’t help but resonate with this passage. Like the protagonist, Lys and I can relate to an afflicted daughter and the desperation for her deliverance. Granted, Juby was not demon-possessed but stricken with chronic lung disease. Still, as we cried out for Jesus, hopefully not to the chagrin of others, we discovered a posture far greater than a spiritual bookmark but of a daily exercise with reproducible influence.
Accordingly, without further ado, I’d like to unpack the remarkable faith of the Syrophoenician woman and how her hope can be a blueprint for those seeking restoration.
“And Jesus went away from there and withdrew to the district of Tyre and Sidon. And behold, a Canaanite woman from that region came out and was crying, ‘Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David; my daughter is severely oppressed by a demon.’ But he did not answer her a word. And his disciples came and begged him, saying, ‘Send her away, for she is crying out after us.’ He answered, ‘I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.’ But she came and knelt before him, saying, ‘Lord, help me.’ And he answered, ‘It is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.” She said, ‘Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.’ Then Jesus answered her, “O woman, great is your faith! Be it done for you as you desire.’ And her daughter was healed instantly.“
Observations
1. Before we can dive into the dialogue, we must first assess the setting. While time and place may seem arbitrary, in this case, they carry notable purpose. With the end in sight, Jesus withdrew with the disciples outside Jewish territory to prepare them for the Cross to come. His days numbered, Jesus realized some final exposures and tune-ups were necessary to groom them for life in ministry without His physical presence. As such, the fact He retreated to the hostile confines of Tyre and Sidon should not be perceived as random as Jesus desired to foreshadow the Gospel going out to all peoples. How amazing it is to know Jesus, even in His last days, never stopped breaking down barriers through radical love.
2. Fast-forward to the woman’s cameo, it’s interesting to note what she requests right out of the gate. Instead of healing or intervention, she addresses Jesus as ‘Son of David’ and calls for mercy, instantly acknowledging the Master’s identity, authority, and sovereignty in one swoop (v. 22). While intellectual origins are unknown, somehow, someway, she understood who Jesus was much to the surprise of the cohort. Per the importance of this sequence, we’ll break this down as we go.
3. I also find Jesus’ response to be somewhat peculiar: “But he did not answer her a word” (v. 23). This, to me, is a critical point to examine and requires us to broaden out to consider the context. Again, this will be explored in the points below.
4. Starting with the woman’s location and situation, we find her labeled as an unclean outsider despite her Canaanite designation and erroneously judged for her non-Israelite daughter’s condition. In terms of geography and timeline, we aren’t informed of any prior wonders performed in Tyre and Sidon prior to this passage. This adds a curious wrinkle to the story as one must wonder how a woman of this stature and status could recognize Jesus as the Messiah.
5. Going back to Jesus’ response, we find multiple motives. For the disciples citing the woman as a distraction, Jesus addresses their bias prior to answering her cry (v. 24):
“I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.”
The reason behind this is at least twofold: On one hand, Jesus wanted to remind the disciples who He was in light of what He came to do as clearly, a portion of the twelve were still pigeon-holing His kingship. On the other hand, Jesus’ intended His initial silence to be an opportunity for the woman to show patience…and resilience. From ‘have mercy’ to ‘help me’ in consecutive pleas (v. 25), the woman wasn’t just conveying poetic symmetry but reiterating Jesus’ mission. Already she had correctly identified Jesus as the Son of God (a full two chapters prior to Peter’s declaration in 16:16); now, she was begging Jesus to be consistent to her…
…what you do to Israel, please, Lord, do to me and my household as well.
6. In addition to the woman’s opening inquiry, I’m captivated by her posture. Even if she just said, ‘Son of David, please help me. My daughter is possessed’, Jesus would have recognized the woman’s understanding of His lordship through her positioning. While the woman’s kneel wasn’t evident during her first appeal, the fact Jesus gave the woman more time, in part, to let her go deeper in referencing Him was not part of instinctual circumstance. Rather, it was an intentional maneuver for her to anchor her surrender and confirm her awareness in front of a freshly humbled core of disciples.
7. The exchange between Jesus and the woman immediately following is arguably one of the most profound moments during His ministry. Up to this point, Jesus hasn’t said a word. Now ready, we again see the silence’s effect per His decision to test the depth and sincerity of her invitation. With the woman’s hopelessness on a timer, He uses the woman’s location and sense of identity as a means to assess her heart:
“It is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs” (v. 26)
Here, Jesus elects to use ‘dog’ knowing the term was derogatory as a Gentile reference. To be a dog in Israel was to be regarded as a dirty, street scavenger; however, Jesus doesn’t associate the term to her poverty as much as her perceived sense of spiritual destitution. At the time, the rift between Jew and Gentile (between ‘clean’ and ‘unclean’) was still strong but, in a preview, we find a woman authenticating her hope while also foreshadowing the expiration of Gentile believers’ spiritual homelessness.
In the woman’s reply, “Yes, Lord; but even the pet dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their [young] masters’ table” (v. 27), we not only find confidence beyond imminent healing but in the salvation of her people. While the woman’s yieldedness was key as a demonstration of submission, Jesus knew this wasn’t simply a self-centered strategy to obtain instant results.
8. Finally, per the prior point, the significance of ‘crumb’ cannot be understated. For a “lost sheep of Israel” (v. 24) to be so hungry for Jesus that even a mere morsel would tell us the woman saw her situation as secondary to the power and presence of God. In essence, she accepts the status of a family’s dog knowing just a crumb of Jesus would be powerful enough to defeat the demon oppressing her daughter. No question, the woman had her priorities and perspectives set straight, almost as if she had anticipated the moment in advance.
Application
Despite its short duration, the passage carries immense application and universal relatability potential. Regardless of our situations, we can all identify and empathize with the Syrophoenician woman if not at least through her adamant clinging to hope in a bleak situation. Even when we’re struggling with our identity, a love deficit, and/or challenges outside our control, even when we feel stuck in a dark place, we can approach God in humility with thanksgiving acknowledging who He is and what He can do.
For some of you, you may have a loved one, a son or daughter, burdened by a disease or satanic assignment. You may feel the target on your back and paralyzed to shake it off. If this is you, don’t work to faith and prayer; start with faith and prayer. To the Lord of grace, ask for mercy and request His appointed portion of providence. If you’re lost, don’t deny the position but receive yourself as one worth saving. Like the woman, you may be deeply conscious of the misery of the soul, but this doesn’t disqualify you from bread of life crumbs.
For others, you may not have a grim circumstance on the board, but you may be thirsty to anticipate the proximity and power of God. While we don’t know exactly how the woman learned of Jesus before His arrival, we know she put herself in position to receive Him following His arrival. Like her, you don’t have to limit your bended knee to the moment. Rather you can extend it as a general posture wherever you go. Ask yourself, ‘Do I want more of Jesus? Do I want a fresh touch of Him today?’ If the answer is ‘yes’, know whatever He decides to give is more than enough even if what He offers is partly an invitation to go deeper.
Either way, dare to believe good things will happen when you seek Jesus and ask of God according to His will.
Prayer
Heavenly Father, we come before you today as we are. Heavy laden with our fears, anxieties, and insecurities, we lay them down in anticipation of what you’re going to do. Wemay feel “dogged” by life, by consequences of past decisions, by unforeseen trials and happenstances. But like Mary, we choose you ahead of any other commitment and priority in our life right now. We thank you for going before us but recognize your faithfulness before us now. For those who are hungry for you, we ask you provide something afresh to they may taste and see a new facet of your goodness. For those who don’t realize they’re hungry, guide and position them to discover the bread of life you carry. Stir in all of us an awakened passion to the wonder of you and help us to see even what we can’t control as opportunities for sharpening, pruning, and maturing. Whether or not we’re personally afflicted, we pray you prepare our hearts for inevitable testings to come and remember those who are going through tragedy, who are journeying through grief. Tend their hearts and make us sensitive to our part in nourishing them just as you are intentional in nourishing us. Whatever piece youintend to give, we receive itwith praise on our lips and gratitude in our hearts.In Jesus’ precious and holy name…
It’s another stormy Fryday night as I type this in the middle of a chase.
Nothing like getting ahead of a whirlwind in the middle of nowhere amidst an historical event. Not a bad way to spend a night…at least to this guy.
Yet, I’m not here to document pending tales of roadside bravery. Conversely, I’m here to share about an observation, one that’s come to greater light since Lys and I started group grief counseling at Vanderbilt earlier this month.
The short and skinnies are simple:
For those who grief, it’s hard to know how. For those around grief, it’s hard to know what.
To understand your grief, you must not only face it but embrace it. Only then can you make the transition into biblical mourning.
Of course, there are many challenges to this, most notably the mock premium of individualization our culture has placed on processing. Give yourself a few minutes to research the matter and you’ll find many resources with premises centered on coping by way of escape/retreat, calibrating perspective by a reverse orientation to still minds and ‘happy thoughts’.
Granted, there’s a time and place for those pursuits. I’m not here to bash a particular tool of the trade or what has worked for some in moderation. I’m just saying we, as people who deep down want to be unified and understood, need to wake up and recognize the ministry of availability within our communities and not be afraid to be relational even when we can’t relate.
For Lys and I, as we’ve said before, we appreciate the support we received when Juby was alive. Words can only go so far in capturing our gratitude. But during the last quarter and half, we’ve noticed a concerning trend, a punch to the gut if you will, and that is we’ve hardly been encouraged and tended since Juby passed away.
Why is that? Why is it so hard for people to send a simple text or have the courage to ask how you’re doing, how you’re feeling? Why do some people ask but only want a few sentences, in turn, exposing the cap to their care? Why do people assume hearts aren’t broken if the brokeness isn’t tangibly evident? Is there some sort of valve that shuts off at a certain point? Do people just assume it’s easier for grievers to journey through loss after a loved one has died as opposed to their final days?
While I have bias to what the answers should be, my mind struggles to access the surface translation. At work, at Vanderbilt…there is life and in some cases, in abundance. But at church, where the body is supposed to be the body? Let’s just say confusion abounds and I’m just about over it. It’s been several years since Lys and I experienced a church home in an environment where the amount of life exceeded its transverse. We miss those days when deficits weren’t distractions, when you could approach a sanctuary and look forward to being inside it without the proximity of people who have written you off or have deemed you not worth the conversation.
And hear me, this is not a call out to every church. I know there are safe places out there where people truly love one another and make their compassion/kindness known. Such a dichotomy is a desired reality I hope to encounter at some point. For now, while my expectations in fellow believers acting like Jesus to us may be too high, I can say this as a broad statement across the board: Whether in or outside leadership, you cannot assign parameters to someone else’s grief. You can’t tell them to level or mask up, to just be okay already, to do what you need to get better as soon as possible. If that’s the message you’re conveying, intentionally or not, you are giving the enemy a footstool and sowing destructive seeds, even if the only consequence is withdrawal and separation noticed by a select few. Sure, we may have some days our emotions are a bit more on the sleeve. Guess what? There’s no agenda there. Sometimes, it’s just hard to swallow the tears. Heck, even worship lyrics can be triggers to heaviness.
Whatever the case, I’m sure there are bodies of believers out there who know how to let people grieve, who know how to simply ‘be there’ when times are tough, and aren’t afraid of making the effort. But from what I’m seeing? When it comes to soul tending and post-traumatic nourishment, the healing pathway is more a function of individual walk sprinkled with isolated interactions that may or may not lift spirits in the moment. If the church can promote the afflicted to take confidence steps on their roads to recovery and restoration, watch out. There will be so much new glory to be discovered and testimonies to be shared!
As for closing thoughts, I apologize to those I’ve inadvertently forsaken during their grief battles. I know it’s easy to be narrow-minded, single-focused, to reserve encouragement to those we’re comfortable with. I know I’ve missed my share of opportunities so I don’t want to sound like a victim in all this. Preaching to the choir, I just want us to wake up, to not be afraid to be uncomfortable. If it helps, just ask us, ‘Good day or bad day?’ I promise you, it’s so much better than a cold shoulder, a blind assumption, or any other fruitless maneuver that shuts God out of the operation.
Last summer, as the Juby journey entered its final semester, I recall a foreign feeling, one I couldn’t help but cling to in the months to come.
The day was Monday, July 18 and while much was going on behind the scenes, inside Juby’s pod, the road unfolding was becoming quite clear. Only days into a three-week paralytic reset, my sweet princess was the NICU equivalent of Sleeping Beauty, at peace in comatose slumber yet out cold indefinitely.
Peering over her bedside, my heart smitten but with anxiety on edge, the following word picture found me:
Like the woman with the bleeding problem (Luke 8:43-48), I was pining after Jesus knowing one touch from Him would be enough. But unlike her outcome, I could never reach Him thanks, in part, to the masses who needed Him just as much. Despite centurion-like faith, my acceleration could not keep up, my hope constantly ahead of weary head and soiled feet. And as dings became dongs on the monitors, so did my concerns become heartcries cemented in desperation.
Jesus, if you could just slow down a little, maybe then I can finally touch the edge of your robe and my daughter would be healed.
Jesus, I get it. Who am I? But oh, how you are! If you could please stop so I can see your face, so I can thread my fingers through your holy garment, not only would Juby be cured but our NICU neighbors would know you by way of wonder-working power unveiled by extravagant love.
Fast-forward three months and Juby is now a few months passed having graduating into ultimate rest. My heart is mending yet full of cracks occasionally flooded with tears. If I only could rewind the clock to summon more strength at this point, at this time, maybe she would have lived.
Yet, that’s when word picture became dream…one calm, October night not long after her Celebration of Life service. In this dream, I’m back on the trail. I can see Jesus’ backside but the distance is increasing. Tempted to think He could possibly not care, I cry out:
Jesus, was my faith not enough? Why didn’t you save her? Why didn’t you slow down so I could touch your robe?
And within an instant, Jesus is there, an about-face in front of my grill.
You were never meant to touch my robe. You were meant to follow me. And you did! Now, look behind you and see the many more who will follow because of what they’re seeing. Watch and see what I will do.
Suddenly, I wake up. It’s a brand-new day and I, for one, am clinched as never the same through this game-changing moment. After all, I rarely have dreams or visions, let alone divine winks laced with such profound poetic symmetry.
Which takes me to why I’m writing this…
I believe for this year, God is calling many of us to consider the many ways He saves. Often, we ‘black and white’ His purposes thinking redemption, restoration, healing, among other things, are only real if they happen in certain ways. But this is far from God’s design and intent!
Perhaps you can relate to the feeling of running after Jesus but feeling He’s out of reach or that you don’t have what it takes to maintain pace. If so, I want to encourage you through this dream it’s not about your faith metrics but whom your faith is anchored to. Like the disciples in the boat calling out to Jesus in the storm, His proximity ultimately became secondary to His identity. Will you hope God will do what you want Him to do…or delight in simply watching Him do what He will do?
Either way, I admit there’s a lot of application and pivot points on this subject. That is why I’m proud to announce in the months to come, I will be working on my first book (I already have an editor lined up; woohoo!) that discusses God’s sovereignty in the context of suffering and through Juby’s life, unpacks the struggle to keep faith when answers aren’t clear.
The pursuit will likely reduce the amount of posts I churn out in a given year. But for me, this is a call I can’t turn down. Accordingly, I forfeit my normal rhythms with gladness to accomplish a dream birthed from one supremely given.
All that said, thank you in advance for your support and patience. While I’m apprehensive about this entrance into unchartered territory, I fear not knowing there’s lives at stake. Just like God redeemed the one Lys and I lost, so will He redeem those who feel lost within their walks holding onto the end of their ropes.
For now, I pray you’re blessed with this premise. No question, it is the core from which I devote my writing time and focus until this project is done.
‘Til then, I love you all. Let’s do this.
Selah.
P.S. A special shout-out to all our NICU/PICU supporters, especially those who partnered with us during last month’s blessing bag outreach! See 34:38 in the live stream below for a quick update…
I know many prefer to stiff-arm the term, roll their eyes at its utterance, and scoff the cliches our culture has attributed.
Yet, through the proper lens, I contend resolutions defined as the process of praying into goals and taking inventory of important decisions are not just a healthy necessity but a holy expression of faith. Granted, the ability to adjust our behavior comes down to intent, or as I like to view it, the epicenter of our ‘why’ which varies from person to person.
Still, in theory, we’re unified within the construct of ‘why’ given it includes our motives/hopes and drives our emotional processing as we observe our journey to change.
The problem for many is: While their intent is perfectly good, and by proxy, valid, it’s often not pure assuming it stems from self-fulfillment and is dependent on self-effort.
Again, our hearts may be anchored to sound intent and for the right reasons from what we can tell; however, if we’re not screening them in advance or worse, belittling them due to past disappointments and present cynicisms, the leaps we’re dying to take may be compromised before they’re even attempted.
Which brings me to my point in writing this…
As you toast your growth and plans for a new year, don’t forget to commit them first.
Consider the “Proverb-ial” yellow-brick road on the subject. In three chapters, the Psalmist emphasizes resolutions as goal surrenderance in the context of allowing God to establish three things:
Like the chronology, the order is significant, one which will be unpacked in the coming months.
As for now, as you begin to assign motive to awareness dare to dream with God not only at the center…but as the originator of every determination He’s planted inside you.
Remember every strength, weakness, and desire to ‘level up’ has been foreknown since eternity – a validation to the day’s excitement and why I personally get giddy as more people start to open their aspiration doors a little bit wider.
As long as we’re on the same page in believing God by His Spirit must bridge the divide before, during, and after our resolutions, the transformation we corporately crave will begin to realize.
Hence, why maturation quests are great but are only effective to the extent we let the Alpha and Omega establish our plans/steps and open our eyes to His purposes along the way.
More on this topic in the weeks to come. For now, as always,
hisgirlfryday.com 