- Jill Briscoe, "A Foundation for Faith," What My Parents Did Right, comp. and ed. Gloria Gaither (StarSong Publishing Group, 1991)
Showing posts with label promise. Show all posts
Showing posts with label promise. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 9, 2014
When You Don't Make Divorce An Option
Jill Briscoe, author, speaker, and pastor's wife, writes that one of the things her parents did right was to maintain their commitment to each other without ever considering divorce as an option. She writes, "My sister and I knew that Mom and Dad enjoyed being married, would stay married, and hoped we'd do the same. Differences they had were kept between them and worked out in the context of the promises they made to each other and to God on their wedding day. There was no option out! As someone has said, when the doors on a marriage are shut and bolted and a fire breaks out, all your time and energy goes to putting out the flames."
Tuesday, August 5, 2014
Temporary Goodbye
As he reflected on the death of his beloved wife, Margaret, Lyman Coleman wrote the following:
The most painful decision of my life was asking God to take her home. She had been suffering from repeated brain seizures and her body was wasted. I whispered in her ear: “Honey, I love you. I love you. Jesus wants you to come home. We are going to be all right. We give you permission to let go.” She closed her eyes and fell asleep. . . .
As I write this letter, I realize I am without my editor. My greatest critic. My teammate. Soul mate. Prayer mate. Partner in everything. We traveled the roads less traveled together in hard times and good times.
Honey, I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I will keep the light on for the kids. I will be there for friends. And one day we are going to join you. All of us. Because Jesus promised it.
“Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints” (Psalm 116:15).
The most painful decision of my life was asking God to take her home. She had been suffering from repeated brain seizures and her body was wasted. I whispered in her ear: “Honey, I love you. I love you. Jesus wants you to come home. We are going to be all right. We give you permission to let go.” She closed her eyes and fell asleep. . . .
As I write this letter, I realize I am without my editor. My greatest critic. My teammate. Soul mate. Prayer mate. Partner in everything. We traveled the roads less traveled together in hard times and good times.
Honey, I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I will keep the light on for the kids. I will be there for friends. And one day we are going to join you. All of us. Because Jesus promised it.
“Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints” (Psalm 116:15).
— Bill Donahue and Russ Robinson, Building a Church of Small Groups (Zondervan, 2001)
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