Ihave two memory boxes . . . one in memory of our daughter that was born still, and another of treasures of my son, Matthew. I don’t get the boxes out often. I know will need at least one box of tissue. The ache never really goes away.
Reading, Treasured: Knowing God by the Things He Keeps, was a unique look at how God is a collector too. We can look through His word and find so many treasures tucked away, and the author, Leigh McLeroy done this through each chapter. Here’s a glimpse of a few of the chapter titles and how she ties it into our treasures with God:
- A Fig Leaf – The God Who Covers Me
- A Fresh Olive Sprig – The God of New Beginnings
- A Bloodstained Piece of Wood – The God Who Defeats Death
- A Head of Barley – The God Who Gleans Joy from Sorrow
- One Smooth Stone – The God Who Writes on Hearts
From the chapter, A Head of Barley, the author writes:
God is unfazed. If my life is a story He is writing (and I believe it is), conflict is sure to come. It is the fuel of the plot – not an aberration. In God’s authorial sovereignty, every trial and every struggle contribute in a unique way to the richness of the story and build to it’s climax and conclusion.
This month marks five years that our son, Matthew, has been in heaven. Sometimes it still jolts me . . . the wound reopens. It stings. There are still tears. There is no real measuring of grief or what to do or what not to do. It’s still hard to say the order of my children with leaving him out (or pausing wondering if I should leave him out or not). I have four children in college – should be five. But then, I think, no, it should not be. God knew all along the number of Matthew’s days. But I want to remember him – I want others to remember him. As I think of grief, and also participating in blog carnival which for this week is on “grief”, if I could share one thing with those who observe those who have said good-bye to someone special – say the deceased one’s name (often); remember special days – birthday, death date, mother’s day, father’s day, grandparent’s day, Christmas, with a card, phone call or hug saying their name.
The chapter in Treasured: Knowing God by the Things He Keeps called A Bloodstained Piece of Wood spoke of death.
That’s why death – any death . . . is always affront, always a shock no matter how prepared for it we believe ourselves to be. Each of us has eternity infused into our souls beneath our bones and blood, and something in us knows it is for a fact. We were made for never-ending, abundant life by a God who loves us and who went from heaven to earth and to hell and back to make sure we could have it.
I am thankful for the treasure of a bloodstained piece of wood. Though there are still tears . . . there’s peace. And for me, it’s such a hope . . . for my soul. It indeed is etched into us. Treasured: Knowing God by the Things He Keeps was just another affirmation of it along with many other treasures to be reminded of.
This book was provided for review by WaterBrook Press and this review expresses my honest opinion.