TJ Hirst

The Question: Have I Seen the Hand of God Reaching Out to Touch Us Today?

I plan all that I can. I’ve always been this way. I planned my career in high school including where I wanted to go to graduate school, when I would marry and have my first child and how many children I would have. Silly me, I thought these things were in my control.

When I met my future husband years ahead of my perceived schedule, I ate my humble pie and then tried to see God’s hand in what He might have planned. But learning is a process, and I still approached motherhood with my ideal plan of the perfect spacing and birth order of each sex. Specifically, I didn’t have an older brother and I wanted my daughters to have one.

I had a girl first. I never felt disappointment but adoration for her life. Next, I had a boy. By then I was all mom all the time and cared more about controlling my temper than controlling our family dynamics. I’d long forgotten my desire for my daughters to have an older brother by the birth of my third and last child—a girl.

Fast forward nine years later. I stood in my kitchen last night cleaning up after I’d sent my youngest daughter and my son off to bed. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw them reappear with each other. I was just about to scold them for not obeying, when I saw two pajamaed children—almost head to head—carrying on about something they wanted to do the next day. The back and forth between them, which I had interpreted as friction, connected them in their own way. I heard the admiration in her words as they figured things out together. In her gestures and her eyes, I saw her love.

God’s plan had unfolded. Without my help and in unplanned and seemingly contentious moments they’d grown together into the ideal I’d imagined. He does plan better than I do, if I’ll let Him.

When I sit still and quiet after my prayers, my mind opens upon the visual images of what I assumed were mere possibilities of my own desire but can now see as the Spirit showing me what to expect. In these moments, the art of my future imprints itself open my heart as reassuringly real and beautiful as this photograph of the blooms on a hosta in my garden.

Yet, so quickly comes the enemy to my faith. And what felt tranquil and joyful and manageable is scary and stressful and impossible. Is my adversary the darkest opponent or only myself who is unwilling to believe? I will only know if I can call out as the father of a stricken son did to Jesus,

“Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief.”

Mark 9:23-24

Try-It With-Me Tuesday, an interactive weekly time and place to foster connections that challenge and encourage the process to become a well-rounded person.

I believe in life after death. In the last year I researched many of our ancestors’ lives and the close connection to our family history confirms my belief even more. What I believe happens to us after death is dramatically different from the fictional story by Mitch Albom, The Five People You Meet in Heaven. Yet, I appreciated a fresh look at this topic that we rarely discuss for fear of offending one another with our personal beliefs.

Following Eddie through his death is like wandering beside him through his search for understanding. His death is not the cliffhanger but the impetus for his journey. The story is his process of coming to terms with his life, his relationships, his choices.

In addition to moving Eddie forward through the steps of heaven, Mr. Albom uses flashbacks to his birthdays in life to inform the reader of Eddie’s history. These flashbacks, like most flashbacks as a literary tool, are difficult to comprehend and fit together in a reader’s mind. However, they establish the circumstances better than a chronological story would and keep the immediacy focused on Eddie’s life after death rather than those moments themselves.

Eddie meets five people who have also died and they assist him in his journey to learn about his life. Each person crossed Eddie’s path—some he knew, others he didn’t—and changed his life. Now in heaven, these five people meet with him and “illuminate” his life as the first person explains to him.

One of the main concepts of this book is that in life we do not know the impact of our lives, for good or for bad, on other people. In heaven Eddie has the chance, with the aid of these five people, to learn about his relationships with his family, seek the peace he desires, look past himself to forgiveness, and discover redemption.

The story does not identify God or His purposes in heaven or in our lives. Rather, the author focuses on the five individuals to bring Eddie through a process. This prompts a curious question for me. If I were in Eddie’s story, “Who would my five people be?”‘

I believe it might be some of those people in my life who have played an important, but less verbal role—like my mother or my oldest daughter. It would certainly include several strangers and an acquaintance or two.

So, I ask you, which five people would you meet?

By having Eddie meet five people in heaven the story is more universal for all faiths. Still, I lead my life with faith in God, assured that he is there and lives even though I cannot see him and do not have tangible evidence of him. Faith makes possible the restoration of relationships through forgiveness and redemption here in this life.

So, I would maybe change my question from which five people would I meet once I died, to whom should I meet now?

Did you read this book with me or have you read it before? What did you think? Leave a comment below or go to my contact page and send me a link to a post you have written about it and I will publish it.

Galatians 5:22-23

My Daily Question: Have I seen the hand of God reaching out to touch us today?

I try too hard. Once, in my enthusiasm—others might call it zeal—to pursue a goal, someone said about my efforts, “Don’t shove it down their throats.” What followed was a pattern of resistance to any changes I suggested, and I took it personally.

Now, I have a new responsibility with new people. Again, I’m interested by what I can learn and give and excited to be involved with new people. But in a short time, I sensed and then saw that some are not so excited about the change.

I couldn’t help but think, “Am I repeating a pattern? What is wrong with my approach?”

And sensitive as I am, I took it to heart. I thought I’d toughened myself against the hurt, but it still stings. When my emotions grew, I stewed over how to resolve the problem head-on, cataloging in my mind all the things that “should” happen. My problem-solving turned to fretting, instead of inspiration. Humbled, I prayed to know where to direct my efforts and still move forward.

The answer: I needed to set aside this immediate challenge and allow another leader to work towards its solution. While I still felt like I had something valuable to add and cared about the outcome, I trusted the answer to shift my focus to different individuals.

I contacted them, and as we talked, I recognized their strengths and considered those. I approached my leader with a suggestion of how to use them for an upcoming assignment. She agreed, and I prepared.

In the course of doing so, I discovered that we were putting in place a new environment in which it would be possible for the other issue to be resolved from a different angle. That approach would have remained unknown to me without prayerful tempering of my will and refocusing of my energy.