In the Bleak Midwinter

Looking out my window this week has been nothing is not bleak.  In fact it started out as bleak and worked it's way right into downright depressing.  Air pollution is not a new thing for us.  Most mornings we start out not by checking the weather, but by checking the air quality index.  Recess at our school is not determined by good weather vs. bad weather.  It is determined by acceptable vs. unacceptable air pollution.  This week took unacceptable to a whole new level.  Monday the air took on an acrid smell and started getting thicker. The number outside was over 200 and growing.  (just for reference, if you live in the U.S. or E.U. your level is most likely under 20) We cancelled the kids outdoor playtime and hoped for a better day tomorrow.  Tuesday the intensity of the situation really set in.  The grayish-yellow clouds made it hard to see very far out the windows and quickly brought to a halt any desire to go outdoors. The numbers climbed into the 400's.  (that's something I have never seen) Wednesday was no better.  By the time we reached Thursday, and the level on my monitor said 489, people were genuinely starting to feel a little panicky.  The whispers of packing up and moving were spreading, the worry lines on the faces of the mothers deepening, the general sense of gloom and unrest becoming palpable.  Almost no one was headache, sore throat, congestion, or cough free.
My first two year in China I cursed that wind, the wind that whipped my hair and made my babies cry. Today I literally begged God for that wind and repented of every time I cursed it and refused to be thankful for the very thing that was His hand of protection for me.  I have loved my life here and I don't often wish it away.  This was one of those days.  The day when I made the contingency plan for what we would do when/if we needed to move.  Because I felt that serious about it, I wanted out.

Today my grandmother died.  I got that phone call in the early morning.  The one you never want to get.....The one that puts the ache in your heart.  In a blink, someone you loved is gone.  All around you life moves on, but you are left with the longing for days past and one last hug from someone who touched your life in so many ways.  Living far away from home is hard sometimes and fun sometimes.  Today it was just hard.  Skyping into the hospital room full of your family just isn't the same as sitting in the room, seeing the faces, reminiscing together, and giving the hugs that go beyond words.  Watching your daddy, the strongest man you've ever known, break down when you are far, much to far, to sit with him and squeeze his hand is gut wrenching.  Knowing you'll miss the chance to say goodbye and finish this chapter with everyone else leaves you with a lack of closure and a strange emptiness.  Living far is hard.

To make the day that much better, I had an extremely painful lunch date with a friend who's life choices are breaking my heart.  Even on a bad day, my options in life are 100 times what hers are.  I can't change that.  I can only cry for her and hold her hand and pray with her that HE gives her strength and courage that can only come from Him to make the hard right choices.

If I had written this post earlier, maybe even 3 hours earlier, it might have ended here.  That was all I had.  Just a sense of defeat.  I wanted to throw in the towel and give it up.  Today was hard.  Too hard.  I was planning my escape from here, back to a place not so far from home, where the skies are blue, and people aren't so trapped by their very difficult culture.  But like He always does, my sweet Heavenly Father broke through the clouds of my despair and gave me hope.  He always gives hope. I reflected upon the details of my grandmother's passing.  Every detail was perfectly arranged by His gracious hand.  Everyone that needed to be there, was there.  She slipped away peacefully with no great suffering.  In reflection on these past few months, the timing was perfect. Where I had been questioning why He had allowed her to linger and struggle since the early fall, I saw in it His hand of blessing as he prepared her children for this very day.  A group of ladies gathered here tonight and we talked about His words.  His words are healing and refreshing and powerful, every time.  They prayed for me and for my family.  We prayed for our friends who are struggling.  We prayed together for a wind to come and blow this awful pollution away.  And when we finished praying and checked the air quality meter, the number was down to 113.  I felt as if God had reached down and given me a hug.  I desperately needed to remember that every detail, from the blanketing pollution, to the affairs of our hearts, to the homegoing of His children is under His complete care.  He doesn't miss a thing.  And so even on this bleak midwinter day I will rejoice in my Savior because He is worthy.  And in that rejoicing I know I join together with the voice of my grandmother, who's faith became sight today.  After 28 years long years of waiting she is holding my grandfather's hand today and as they sing together the praises of their loving Savior.  I want to sing too.

Habakkuk 3: 17-19

"Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation.  God the Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet like the deer's; he makes me tread on my high places."