Living With Goodbye

For the past few years, it seems as though my life has been filled with goodbyes. Six months ago I was saying goodbye to my childhood dog of 15 ½ years (and yes, when they get that old you do start counting ½ years!) One year ago it was a dear friend who died suddenly, within 24 hours of being rushed to the hospital. Two years ago it was my WWII great-grandpa who passed on.  To this day, anytime I smell vanilla I think of great-grandpa- sitting in his big chair, smoking that old-fashioned pipe of his, making jokes and basking in the love of all the grandkids and great-grandkids. And I wish he were here so I can hear him chuckle again. 

These are forever goodbyes. The memories bring tears when you don’t expect them to. They hurt- oh, how deep they hurt- but you know that no amount of crying will bring them back. The Almighty has decided, He has acted, and His will was done.

But how do you live with goodbyes?

The cousin you haven’t seen in over ten years, stationed in some remote place half way across the world, fighting for our freedom?

The brother-in-law deployed for months on end to defend our country at a moment’s call, left in the thick of the battle?

The friend slipping away to the desires of the world, unwilling to listen to truth?

The brother with cancer, battling for his life, laying in a hospital bed with toxic orange fluid dripping into his chest?

I don’t know the future. The Almighty is working, truly He is, but at times His Hand is hidden from view. We are all living goodbyes, never really knowing when that precious life we love will be taken for the Father’s glory. Perhaps I’m being morbid, perhaps this subject is too delicate a topic to be handled by my clumsy thoughts. However, sometimes I think the living goodbyes are harder than the forever ones. As you’re praying on your knees, tears streaming down your face, arms spread open in a desperate plea for God to work on behalf of these loved ones…the pain is deep there.

But so is the comfort. 

In the agonizing prayer from the closed and inner room of the heart comes the peace that surpasses all understanding. God’s there. He’s real. He’s here.

He knows what’s best. He’s holding our lives in His Hands. He is the God of the impossible miracles. 

Trusting Him is the only way how to live with goodbyes.

The Wild Ride of Faith...

...because God calls us to adventure to keep from becoming stagnant. This blog is my new stomping grounds, a place that I can share my life, poured out for my Master's use.

But why "His Irish Flame"? Amy Carmichael's words says it all:

Give me the Love that leads the way

The Faith that nothing can dismay

The Hope no disappointments tire

The Passion that'll burn like a fire

Let me not sink to be a clod

Make me Thy fuel, O Flame of God

I am an Irish lass, who desires with every fiber of her being to live set-apart and in awe of Yehovah God. Passionately. Relentlessly. Courageously. Epically.

I'm not new to blogging, although I haven't attempted a post in years. Lately, the blogging bug has bitten me again- perhaps because this wild ride of faith just got a wee bit more crazy. My 2nd oldest brother is battling for his life as he fights a very rare cancer, and through all the emotions and turmoil, I've found that I desire a place of escape- where my words can flow from my heart to ease what is all building up inside. For people to see what's inside, when no words can leave my lips because the emotion is too deep. A place that is a living testimony of what the Father is doing in me- and what He can do in all of us.

So join me, as I dive into the deep end, fully trusting that He will hold me up in His Hands. The Father doesn't call us to a stroll in the park, but to the wildest adventure you could ever imagine.