I’m currently engaged in a building project, trying to
cobble together a new home for myself on the altered landscape of my life. Almost
every day, someone -- a friend, family member, or delivery driver, asks some
version of the same question. “Are you finished?”
This isn’t a post about my suite, so I’ll spare you the
details, but the short answer to the question is no. I paid for the basics and
am completing the rest myself, which I knew would be a long process. I did expect
the rough-in to be finished less than 6 months after the estimated completion
date, and I didn’t expect the electrician’s work to fail multiple inspections,
requiring a series of long waits for him to return. But I digress.
Finished. The word has been echoing in my head. No, my suite
isn’t finished, but many other things are, or at least appear to be.
The married-to-Dan phase of my life is finished. Obviously,
it ended the day he died, but I was surprised at the extent to which the moving
process reawakened the grief. I left the last home I will have ever shared with
him; a house that was full of memories which swirled around me and kept me
hanging on to the ethereal threads of the relationship. There’s a stark finality
to moving. This is new. The old is gone.
The reawakened grief of widowhood in turn reawakened grief
for lost dreams. As years of illness followed one after the other, I gradually
released the idea of returning to mission work full time, but I still clung to
the hope of someday accompanying Dan on his yearly trips back to Peru. Will I ever
minister overseas again? Will I minister
outside my own home at all? Is that
phase of my life finished?
After decades of illness and living a mostly home-bound
life, it’s easy to wonder what my purpose is. It’s easy to feel worthless. The
voices of the culture and in my own head whisper that I, myself, am simply
finished.
It’s a lie. I remind myself of that. I’m still alive, so I’m
not finished. God may call me home in 30 years or 30 minutes, but in this
present moment, there’s a purpose to my life. My mind knows that. My heart
tries to believe.
As I ponder these thoughts while I work on my suite, it occurs
to me that “finish” has multiple meanings. I put a finish on the floor. I use
finishing nails to apply trim.
When used in this way, the word does mean that one phase of
a project has been completed. It’s completed, though, so that the item can
fulfill its intended purpose. It’s a completion that marks a beginning.
Among the tangled jumble of thoughts that the word “finish”
prompts, three simple truths float to the surface.
1. Earthly experiences will eventually end. Joyful
things end, but painful things also run their course. Sometimes they run their
course here on earth, and sometimes our relief will arrive in the age to come. God
says in Revelation 21 that in the day when God’s home will be among his people,
death, sorrow, crying, and pain will all disappear forever.
2. Some things have no end. God has no end and our
relationship with him surpasses time. Among the things that the Bible tells us
last forever are God’s presence with us (Hebrews 13:5), his plans and purposes
(Psalm 33:11), and his love (Psalm 136:1). 1 Corinthians 13 tells us that faith,
hope, and love will endure when other things, which seem important now, fade
away.
3. Painful experiences, which are often related to
unwelcome endings, can make us feel finished, used up, and discarded. Maybe,
though, they are part of the process of putting a “finish” on us which can
beautify us and make us more useful for service. An ending can help equip us
for a new beginning.
God, please give us your peace as we navigate painful
endings and accept human limitations. Help us to remember the difference
between things that are temporal and things that are eternal and to focus our
time and energy on the things that will endure. Use us in whatever way you
choose, and apply whatever “finish” you need to apply to better equip us for the tasks you've prepared for us. Help us to be strong, so that one day, we can
say, as Paul did in 2 Timothy 4:7, “I have fought the good fight, I have
finished the race, I have kept the faith.”
