Tag: scripture

Posted in eternity

What’s Right With This Picture?

Posted on by imtaylorwalker

Over the past month, there’s been a particular word I can’t seem to get away from. It’s been in my devotions, in my Griefshare videos, in my conversations… it’s almost become comical. That word is perspective.

Perspective: a particular attitude toward or way of regarding something; a point of view.

I’m sure you’ve heard countless times how powerful perspective can be. While this truth is not specific to grief alone, I would dare to say it is a truth that grievers must be hyperaware of. Here’s what I mean…

When we suffer an unexpected loss, confusion and anger can be natural responses. We search for answers. We wonder all of the why’s. We pinpoint what we should have done differently. And if we aren’t extremely careful, we spiral…

We start to believe God loves us less. We convince ourselves that there’s no hope or happiness left in this world. We’re consumed with our sorrow. It affects how we think, interact with others, plan (or don’t plan) for the future… everything. We watch the calendar for any “milestone” days (holidays, anniversaries, etc.) and fill ourselves with dread, wishing all of that precious time away. We live in a permanent and inescapable state of pessimism.

Why? Because our perspective shifts. It becomes painfully distorted as we repeat the lies of grief and begin to shape our entire life around them. The worst part? We usually don’t even realize what’s happening until we’re too far deep in the hole of despair.

If I’m being honest, I’ve found myself in this hole more times than I can count. It seems to happen when I become too fixated on my grief – when all I can see is my loss. I mean, it makes sense, doesn’t it? Of course my perspective is going to be warped if all I can think about is death and disappointment.

So… what do we do about it?

I’m going to share a short devotion with you that I find myself going back to often. The title is “Eternal Perspective” and is found in through a season of grief by Bill Dunn and Kathy Leonard.

When you begin to see heaven as your true home, you can develop eternal perspective that sees all sorrows as passing.

“It is possible to trust God in all things,” says Dr. Joseph Stowell. “You may have a hard time getting there, but you won’t get there unless you believe in the world to come. If this is all you have, if it’s just this world, then bitterness is your only option.

But if you believe that there is a God who is higher than you are and wiser than you are, and He has a world prepared for you where all Christians will be together again and be with Him in absolute joy and bliss, then that brings strength to your sorrow.”

Place your trust in God and in His preparations and plans for you.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am” (John 14:1-3).

Lord and Savior, I trust that You will someday bring me home to live in heaven with You. For now, I need to try and look at my sorrows in light of eternity. The things of this world are much clearer when I have a higher perspective. Amen.

I know what you’re probably thinking. “That’s a lot easier said than done.” You’re absolutely right, it is. So, let me offer you a simple exercise to try whenever you catch your perspective doing the dreaded spiral.

Ask yourself – “What’s right with this picture?”

For me, I think about how right it is that my mama was spared from this world. No more pain. No more tears. No more burdens. Just pure heavenly joy. I think about how right it is that she made sure we were taken care of. I think about how right it is that I’ll get to meet my sweet Parker as soon as I enter heaven’s gates. I get to meet my child, y’all! Also, how right is it that my mama gets to worship at the feet of Jesus beside one of her grandkids?! I love to imagine that beautiful, holy sight.

If you can’t think of anything right with your picture yet, ask yourself again. Ask however many times it takes. Because I guarantee you God is not letting your pain go to waste. Even in the worst circumstances, there is something right with this picture.

**Dana, if you somehow come across my blog – THANK YOU for sharing this exercise in Griefshare. It was truly one of those pivital moments for me.**

Posted in church

Would You Choose To Live?

Posted on by imtaylorwalker

There’s a particular question weighing on my heart this Easter, so I’d like to ask you…

Would you choose to live?

Let’s pretend that before you were born, you were given a “preview” of what was in store. After this preview, you could choose if you’d like to live the life shown.

You would see all of the beautiful things life offered. Maybe that includes a spouse, some children, a nice home, a steady job, a community of friends, some dreamy vacations… Anything you’d consider good. Encouraging stuff, right?

Then the bad starts to play. You see all of the loss, hardships, and instability scattered in. They seem immeasurable and so unfair. Worst of all, you learn that your final moments are a far cry from peaceful. Your death will be excruciating, at best. It’s one you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy. Yikes…

What would you do? On one hand, you’re overwhelmed with all of the joy and blessings awaiting. On the other, you can’t imagine facing such an agonizing death. No one could blame you if you decided it wasn’t worth it.

I think about this question a lot for my mom. I often wonder if she would have chosen YES to her life knowing how it would end. She died with her body smashed and broken and bleeding. She took her last breath confused and alone, with no loved one nearby to hold her hand. While I’ve visually seen the damage and reports, I’ll never truly know the amount of pain she felt or the final thoughts she had. What I do know is that it was a death that would make me question everything. Did she question it too?

You may be wondering what the point of this question is. Why torture ourselves with hypotheticals and “what if” scenarios? After all, none of us are given a preview. The saying holds weight… “We play the hand we’re dealt.”

But here’s the thing.

Someone WAS given a preview. He knew exactly the life he would live, down to the very second. He knew every good his life would hold. The friendships, the healings, the miracles, and the eternal impact. But he also knew the bad. The betrayals, the brutality, the cross, and the grave. And guess what? He still chose YES.

Wrap your mind around that for a second. Jesus knew it all before it even happened. Imagine getting a preview like Matthew 27 and still choosing YES…

“What shall I do, then, with Jesus who is called the Messiah?” Pilate asked. They all answered, “Crucify him!” “Why? What crime has he committed?” asked Pilate. But they shouted all the louder, “Crucify him!” When Pilate saw that he was getting nowhere, but that instead an uproar was starting, he took water and washed his hands in front of the crowd. “I am innocent of this man’s blood,” he said. “It is your responsibility!” All the people answered, “His blood is on us and on our children!” Then he released Barabbas to them. But he had Jesus flogged, and handed him over to be crucified. Then the governor’s soldiers took Jesus into the Praetorium and gathered the whole company of soldiers around him. They stripped him and put a scarlet robe on him, and then twisted together a crown of thorns and set it on his head. They put a staff in his right hand. Then they knelt in front of him and mocked him. “Hail, king of the Jews!” they said. They spit on him, and took the staff and struck him on the head again and again. After they had mocked him, they took off the robe and put his own clothes on him. Then they led him away to crucify him.

I don’t know about you, but I would have taken one glance at that passage and eagerly declined. Flogging? Mockery? Thorns beaten into your skull? Nailed to a cross? That price is too steap for me. Who would willingly choose a life that would end in such a way?

Jesus. That’s who.

Jesus chose that for me. And He chose that for you. He looked at His impending crucifixion and decided our sinful souls were worth it all. You and I were worth the blood. You and I were worth the beatings. You and I were worth the cross.

What love to choose YES.

Now… While we didn’t get a preview of the life we’re currently living, we do get a preview of the eternal life that’s waiting. And good news! This time, we have a choice. John 3:16 proclaims,

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.

Easter can quickly become all about the baskets, egg hunts, and family gatherings. For many, it’s just another church box to check off for the year. But my prayer for you, friend, is that you take some time to really dwell on the YES your Savior chose for you. And may you choose to say YES right back to Him.

Posted in August 6

The Price You Pay For Answers.

Posted on by imtaylorwalker

I’ve always had a habit of getting invested in the most irrelevant things. Once my curiosity is peaked, you can bet I’ll be doing an internet deep dive for all the details. My husband used to joke with me and say, “Okay, Google…” anytime he knew he was about to get me started on something.

My brain does something like this…

“Holy cow, why are cashews so expensive?” *Googling…* “So that’s where cashews come from? Wait, what’s cashew apple? Why have I never seen a cashew apple at a store?” *Googling…*

Yes, I’m insane. I recognize this. But seriously, if you didn’t just stop to google a cashew apple, WHO are you? And HOW are you just content with not knowing something? I need to know your secrets.

Usually, this characteristic is completely harmless. Knowing random information about cashews never hurt anyone. In fact, I’m counting on this to help me win at trivia night one day. But there’s a reason for the saying, “Curiosity killed the cat.” Sometimes, the information isn’t what you expect. Sometimes, you see things you may be better off turning a blind eye to. Sometimes, you cause more harm than good.

But that’s just the price you pay for answers.

**If you haven’t read my post, The Call, pause and do that now. It’s good context.**

Caught up? Okay, on we go.

When Riley spoke on the phone with Dr. Nelson, she told him the wreck was an accident. There had been a terrible rain storm, and the other driver hydroplaned, resulting in a head-on collision. At this point, no information was disclosed about this driver. I didn’t know who it was, if they were dead, alive, in jail, in a coma… nothing.

One of the first questions I asked Dr. Nelson at the hospital – “Is the driver alive?” I had to know. I thought I was prepared for the answer. I thought I knew what she’d say. Because how could anyone walk away from a wreck like this? There’s no way, right? Wrong.

“The driver was a young man. He’s completely fine. He sustained no injuries.”

She went on to say that it was just a terrible accident due to the weather. Nothing could have prevented it. And she wanted to believe that Mom and Bruce did not suffer.

At that moment, I didn’t have the capacity to really stop and think about all she said. My brain was just trying to keep up. So much was happening.

On the way home, I received a phone call from the local sheriff. He asked me if I had spoken with anyone else regarding the wreck. I told him what little information I collected at the hospital, but that was all I knew. He informed me of the driver’s name – Nicholas Sponholz – and the charges they gave him. And that’s when it happened. The curiosity peaked.

It’s almost funny to look back now. Had my curiosity not gotten the best of me, I would have believed the wreck was just a freak accident. I would have clung to the words of Dr. Nelson, thinking Mom never suffered. I would have lived the rest of my life in ignorant bliss. Sounds kind of nice. But that’s not how this story played out. Because once I started digging, I couldn’t stop.

The short version is this…

The wreck was not just a freak accident. It could have been prevented with a touch of common sense and courtesy. Nicholas was accelarating… in a monsoon… 65 in a 55… passing a vehicle that was probably just being mindful and cautious of the rain. His speed caused him to hydroplane from his lane, over a grassy median, into a street sign, across another lane, and into Bruce’s car. Bruce took the direct hit and died on impact. Mom survived an hour, confused and in pain, before she died.

What that story doesn’t tell is the fight it took to get these answers. The lawyers. The bills. The phone calls. The EMS reports. The medical examiner body diagrams. The witness statements. The expert opinions. The depositions. The disappointments.

For over a year, my brother and I clawed our way to the truth. We wanted answers. We wanted an apology. We wanted justice. I’m not sure we ever fully got any of those things. Just limited answers, half-truths, and no apology.

Was it worth it? I’m not sure, really. I guess that depends on how you look at it.

So many people told us to move on – Mom wouldn’t want this for us. Those words fell on deaf ears. Our minds had already been made up. We needed this guy to take some responsibility and own up to his carelessness. Our criminal system is weak, at best, and it was failing us tremendously. This felt like our only shot to hold him accountable. But, in order to do this, we had to pay a steep price.

We had to read and see, in grueling detail, the final moments of our mom’s life. What she felt… how her body responded… what she looked like. We had to sit in depositions, answering 100’s of questions from a lawyer that did his best to minimize the value of Mom’s life. We had to listen to Nicholas push aside every. single. question. about that day with a ridiculous, repetitive response of “I don’t recall.” These are all things we’ll never be able to unsee or unhear.

But would I do it all again? You bet.

She was my mother. She was worth the fight. She always will be.

We didn’t get everything we’d hoped for. Of course, Mom would’ve had to walk through the doors for that to happen. Even in the disappointment, I cling to the hope that our fight will be the very thing that prevents this from happening again.

Throughout this journey, there was a particular verse I repeated over and over (and over) again. I wrote it on note cards and mirrors, highlighted it in my Bible, and even sang it in a catchy tune to make sure I always remembered.

God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.

Psalm 46:1

On the days I felt I was drowning, I clung to these words. God was my refuge when I was consumed with anxiety. He was my strength when I was too weak to move forward. He never wavered, even when I did. He was my constant. My calm.

The good news – He still is. Our God is the same yesterday, today, and forever. No matter the valley you find yourself in, you can always cling to that truth, friend. I know this because I’ve witnessed it. And you will too.