A Blog by Leigh Leslie Harrison
A Blog by Leigh Leslie Harrison
“Grief is good when it mourns what God hates, but it’s dangerous when it questions God’s goodness and love.”
“Discouragement focuses more on the broken glories of creation than it does on the restoring glories of God’s character, presence, and promises.”
Paul David Tripp
Words do not suffice to expound on the years of 2020 and 2021 from a global, national, and personal pandemic; yet, I will attempt. The images of suffering have been seared into our memories with the cataclysmic death toll which signifies loss and pain that we cannot begin to fathom. Many have died. Many have suffered. Most are affected greatly. Not only has suffering prevailed, but also has a climate of divisiveness in our culture. The images I see: the elderly woman dying alone being loved on by a total stranger; the hospital worker with exhaustion lines on his face due to mask wearing for hours; the refrigerated trucks holding the overflow for the morgues; the countless halls of overworked and overcrowded saints who literally have slaved and served on the frontline; the single parent who has lost her cherished job; the never-ending lines at the food banks from all socio-economic backgrounds; the police brutality and its consequences; the 2020 graduates, not celebrated or honored or having their right of passage; the weddings changed or postponed….. There is no limit to the images. There is no limit to the repercussions that this time will have in the years and decades to come. What we have just witnessed and are still living in is a story with themes and narratives still being written.
Like everyone who reads this piece, our family has suffered but not to the degree of most. I have remained silent for a long time simply because our pain has been significant. Our personal images were of a son who not only battled stage four Hodgkin’s Lymphoma and survived but of the same son who married during the pandemic at Duke Mansion. Married at a place and time that was forbidden by the owner. Married and kicked off property. Married and abandoned by his wife for months. Yet, my most personal image is the one of the couple crippled by the effects of mental health challenges. Anxiety. Depression. Eating Disorders. Suffering. Divorce. Trauma is very painfully real; and no one escapes it in this life. Not me, not you, not our families.
In the midst of the backdrop of the pandemic pain, we have courageously stepped into our personal story. Some of you have experienced far greater tragedy with cancer diagnoses and recurrences, spinal cord injuries and the paralyzing new life, and precious lives lost way too soon. We, as a couple, have just begun to understand the trauma toll of the last five years from the staggering losses of journeying through a son’s cancer and its uncertainties to the monumental, brutal shock and pain of losing our dear friend Glenn due to gun violence and to the newlywed shattering. Yet in the midst of it all, there is a good God of redemption.
The above words were written in April of 2021; however, I could not push the publish button. The pain was too raw; too fresh; and the risk was too significant. Yet, as I read these words today, I was struck with the honest cries of heartache and God’s steadfast ability to redeem. Suffering in this life is guaranteed but Jesus promises us His Presence. And, He has abundantly given it to each one of us as we have recovered. He has blessed us with far happier times and far happier memories that we can be certain He is writing a new chapter. He is proving to our family that He is able to redeem far beyond what we can imagine.
Jesus longs to pursue. He longs to heal. He longs to redeem. Where today can you yield to the big picture and allow your mind to be imprinted with His sheer goodness, His abounding love, and His willingness to meet you in your story? Please, set your heart and mind on the surety and beauty of this glorious sunset and allow His grace to meet you on this road to redemption. I am yielded to the Only One Who can bear the weight of loss, are you? What is holding you back?
He longs to captivate you with His love.
Open my eyes that I may see……Psalm 119:18
I will lift up my eyes to the hills…. Psalm 121:1
But my eyes are fixed on You…. Psalm 141:8
Open your eyes and look at the fields……John 4:35
The news is unrelenting. In a seemingly short amount of time, businesses have closed. Churches, universities, and schools have ceased to function in ways we have grown accustomed. Children and adult kids have returned from the life that they knew. Most in the United States are under shelter-in-place orders. This COVID-19 has reared its ugly head invisibly, yet, oh so visibly. We have seen its plunder. Countless lives lost. Unimaginable suffering and pain. A world, quite possibly, changed forever. Yet with this insurmountable attack, we must acknowledge that these circumstances have unmistakably grabbed our attention. The idols of our hearts and the props of our lives have been radically exposed as a global community; however, this time also has graciously delivered each one of us a reality check. The truth is that I would rather engage in the distraction of business than to calm my heart and listen to the One Who longs to draw near to my weary, bruised soul. Instead of collapsing in the all-sufficiency of the Lord Jesus, I find myself dreaming of the days where human beings return to hugging, sharing a meal, or quite simply just being in the world and reflecting His love.
In the counseling office, the therapist holds space for those struggling to have a secure foundation. Could it be that we have been given space to inspect our personal footings? Indeed, these challenging times can paralyze us into not reflecting individually and also can retraumatize us in the specific pains of our own narratives. With the framework of our current situation, though, let’s evaluate our perspective and paradigm as Jesus calls us to a fresh surrender.
Perspective, according to Webster is “the capacity to view things in their true relations or relative importance.” Our individual perspective challenges our belief system; our beliefs overflow from our heart. My perspective shift came in 2010 when I suffered lung collapses with unknown etiology. The months of grueling lung pain and the fears of the unknown were my wake-up calls. Would I continue to operate under the guise of performance? Would I continue to be defined by what I accomplished or by what God says about me? Would I trust His heart for me, knowing that I had no control with the outcome? Although my heart had been redeemed, Jesus knew I desperately needed a much-needed reset. A reset of trust. A reset of surrender. A reset to know that I am His beloved; that He never changes; that He never, ever will abandon me; and that He is always good.
For some reason, God has repeatedly used the vehicle of a medical crisis to force our family into this space. Whether it was the devastation of an eighteen-year-old son diagnosed with Stage 4, Hodgkin’s Lymphoma or the complications of pneumonia or surgeries, God allowed the pain. As C.S. Lewis states, “Pain insists upon being attended to. God whispers to us in our pleasure, speaks in our consciences, but shouts in our pains. It is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world.” Suffering allows us a reset.
Because I firmly believe that God does not waste our suffering, I challenge you to evaluate your life paradigm as we, individually and corporately, move into this next season. Just as Peter was beckoned out of the boat to trust, just as Paul was beckoned into conversion, and as the Samaritan lady was beckoned out of her lifestyle, to what is God beckoning you?
Paul Miller was beckoned out of being comfortable to prayer as his family adjusted to an autistic daughter. Katie Davis Majors was called out of conformity with the world to a life of adopting thirteen African girls. Toby Mac and Steven Curtis Chapman were called to trust God’s heart as they each grieved the loss of a child. John Newton was beckoned out of the slave trade and into a life reflecting amazing grace. Martin Lloyd Jones was called out of the medical profession and into a life of preaching the gospel. The aforementioned folks are simply a few examples of lives radically changed by the paradigm of surrender and grace.
In light of the crisis at hand, I humbly invite you to wrestle with your perspective, the lens through which you view your story in light of His story of redemption. While filtering out the anxiety, fear, and uncertainty, let’s examine our foundational paradigm. Are we willing to trust that He has us, that we need not fear, and that most importantly, He meets us exactly where we are? There is no shame. No judgment. No guilt. Just surrender.
Jesus never promises us that we will not suffer; yet, He promises us His Presence.
For each of you reading these words, I pray that God speaks directly to you. Heed His prompting; and let’s move deeper into this gospel of grace so that lives will be changed.
“I sought the Lord, and He answered me. He delivered me from all my fears. Those who look to Him are radiant; their faces are never covered with shame.” Psalm 34:4-5
“Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, and be constant in prayer.” Romans 12:12
“Taste and see that the Lord, He is good; blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him.” Psalm 34:8
“I will lift up my eyes to the hills—where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth. He will not let your foot slip—He Who watches over you will not slumber; indeed, He Who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. The Lord watches over you—the Lord is your shade at your right hand; the sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night. The Lord will keep you from all harm—He will watch over your life; the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.” Psalm 121
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. “ Psalm 34:18
“Taste and see that the Lord, He is good….” These have been the faint whispers to my heart since last summer starting in the raging beauty of Young Life’s Malibu Camp in British Columbia. Yielding to the stunning cascades of snow capped mountains and reflecting into Jervis Inlet and Princess Louisa Inlet, God seemed to beckon my name. To call out with the seals. To revel in the laughter, adventure and dance. To pursue a weary heart for true refreshment. To live life surrounded by some of the finest souls this side of heaven. Tantalizing tastes and sights of God’s immense and lavish love. God knew that in June, I would need this exact visual to know without a shadow of doubt, that He is good. Then the words, “Taste and see that the Lord, He is good,” fell into a megaphone last fall. Will you, Leigh, trust in My goodness even if…one of your sons is diagnosed with cancer? “Will you simply move past the lip service and be tangibly, experientially connected to My goodness?” Isn’t there beauty in the offer of engaging two of our senses, of taste and sight, so that our feelings follow in line with His goodness?
As I write this post, simply putting the words out here is daunting. 2016 held, for our family, a unique set of suffering with the loss of my dear 90 year old mom, the loss of my childhood home, and the subsequent diagnosis of Hodgkin’s Lymphoma for my middle as well as acute liver failure with successful transplant for our beloved 6-year-old neighbor. In addition, our beloved neighbor, friend, and adopted family member continues to struggle daily with Parkinson’s and the treatment from squamous cell carcinoma. Additionally, a dear friend has been fighting valiantly against a very aggressive form a breast cancer. Oh, the brokenness of this world continues to plummet and chase after each and every one of us; and we are each faced squarely with a choice. Will we believe the gospel to be true for us? Will we yield to God’s purposes even though we are completely powerless to thwart the oncoming affliction? Can we trust He is good, no matter what?
As I am a third of the way into a counseling degree, God has been equipping my heart with every step: studying “death” in life span development exactly when my mom died and studying “suffering” exactly at the moment of Cole’s diagnosis. The broken places in this world are indeed heart shattering. At St. Jude, I witnessed the pain in countless eyes and the devastation in many hearts because a cancer diagnosis for a child is right up there with one of our worst fears in life. A cancer diagnosis happened; and fears were realized. I will never be ok with the fact that my beloved middle had cancer and how it will forever impact him as well as all of us. I will never be ok with the ways Satan allowed brokenness to harm my family along with countless others. I will never be ok with the hundreds of kids I encountered daily who would much rather be outside playing, laughing and living life as they should. Yet, I will be ok in the full surrender to a sovereign God Who never sleeps or tires in going ahead of me time and time again to prepare and to provide. He welcomes the broken.
Taste and see, that the Lord He is good. Mere words cannot capture the magnitude of Young Life’s Malibu Camp in terms of sights and experience; yet, God has used this incredible vista over the years with many folks, young and old alike, to invite: “Will you dare to draw closer to Me?” In the drawing closer, He just might meet us exactly where we are so that we find our home there. A home to be known. A home to be seen. A home that feels safe and comfortable. A home that knows no parameters in place. A home not restricted by Malibu in British Columbia, but a permanent home, not affected by the transition of ownership. The perfect home with the triune God.
Jesus often asked, “What do you need?” Why does Jesus invite the crippled to articulate his needs? Why would He want to hear the obvious because He already knew? Could it be that the question posed was a place for the man to acknowledge His need for his own benefit?
Jesus comes to us this day inviting and welcoming us yet again; and we have the opportunity to allow God to meet us in our need. We all have needs; and the beauty is that God welcomes them in our deepest heart cries. Strength and joy are found in this Dwelling Place. Will you taste and see that He is good, no matter what your struggles are this day?
C.S. Lewis once stated, “The truth is, of course, that what one regards as interruptions are precisely one’s life.” On September 12, 2016, the interruption came as our Baylor freshman’s “cold symptoms” escalated into a cancer diagnosis within a few hours. Our beloved middle son Cole, who had dreamed of becoming a Baylor Bear, found himself in Baylor Scott and White Medical Center where he would be informed that the interruption, most likely, was lymphoma. Armed with a Presidential scholarship as well as a Hubler scholarship, Cole had entered Baylor with a vision of becoming a difference maker in the kingdom. His firm faith in hand and dreams in his heart. Full of vigor. Full of hope. Full of life. The interruption came.
Baylor, what our family longs to communicate is simply our humble gratitude for the countless ways you showed up, not only for Cole, but also how you walked alongside this Tennessee family in the shock, heartache, and grief of plans thwarted. You, as a university of higher learning, have encountered assaults on your character; however, the ways in which you cared for us in the aftermath of this painful interruption was not only staggering but an incredible testimony of a long-seated commitment by your institution, your trustees, and your vision to walk humbly before your God.
Baylor, we are forever grateful for Cole’s roommate and cherished friend, Austin Hagen; and his incredibly wise and Godly parents, Drs. Mike and Barb Hagen, who drove an hour from their home in order for our child not to be alone when receiving the news. With deep ties to Baylor as well as to the Lord, these health care professionals, not only helped with the arrangement of the biopsy; yet, they also walked deeply into our pain. To the bald headed boys (Austin, Zach, Kendall, Luke, and Karl), you have shown our son a glimpse of the lavish love of Jesus. Walking alongside a freshman in pain as you have faced your own new environment has been breathtaking. To the countless freshmen boys and girls (especially to those in South Russell), who have stood firm to celebrate the good and pray together, thank you. You, Baylor, exhibit a community of grace, laughter, and love like we have never experienced. Thank you, also, to the health care professional working on the frontline, Baylor’s nurse practitioner Lisa MacMaster. Thanks also to Dr. Doug McDonald and Dr Christian Cable, who not only confirmed the biopsy but sat with us listening to our hearts and sharing their professional knowledge and Jesus. Additionally, without the expertise and compassion of Baylor’s David Henry, our navigating this change at Baylor would have been far more difficult. Also, to the Baylor Tri Deltas, who came to visit Cole at St. Jude, thank you for your incredible encouragement, your endless compassion, and unmatched generosity in embracing our son and welcoming our family into your circle. Your kindness lifted our hearts in ways you will never know.
Baylor, you exhibit a rich community, enveloped in an unwavering commitment to not only excellence but also a passion for the very things that matter most. Our hope and prayer is that Cole will join you again one day soon after his treatment at St. Jude is completed.
Baylor, what we know is our God is good; and He takes great delight in doing all things well. You, as an institution, continue to amaze and astonish our family in how well you radiate His love and kindness through your community. We look forward to the day our son is healed, and Cole returns to the very place where life is lived fully, interruptions and all.
With grateful hearts,
Hunter and Leigh Harrison
Reed, Cole, and Clay
Psalm 113: 3 “From the rising of the sun to its setting, the name of the Lord is to be praised.” (ESV)Psalm 29:11 “The Lord gives strength to His people; the Lord blesses His people with peace.” (NIV)
Psalm 28:6-8 “Praise be to the Lord, for He has heard my cry for mercy. The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in Him, and I am helped. My heart leaps for joy and I will give thanks to Him in song.” (NIV)
Isn’t it interesting that in one of the initial interactions between God and man, a question was posed? Certainly it wasn’t given to render pertinent information; but rather, it was voiced for the benefit of the man? Where are you? Not a location. Not a needed answer. Not a chide remark. But almost a rhetorical question. Where are you in relation to Me? Where have you gone in relationship with Me? Into hiding? Into shame? Into guilt? Into self-loathing? Just as the question was relevant in the beginning, it is relevant now as we are 22 days into the new calendar year…..I’m 22 days into the juggling of hard things and scenarios in the midst of this precious gift of life.Read More
My boy got in the car yesterday and after rehashing his day, he looked at me with his big brown eyes, “So, Mom, how was your day?” Then, I offered all that I accomplished that day: the projects completed, the household chores done, the exercise attempted, the meals cooked or groceries purchased, the friends seen, the prayers prayed, the homework completed for class, etc. And after the response given, there was the so familiar pit in my stomach: that aching pit that seems to say, “You are not enough. No matter what, you cannot accomplish enough.”
This may be the hardest post, yet, because I feel forced to share from a more vulnerable spot. Since starting this blog, there have been a wide array of responses: 1. “Thanks for being real and vulnerable.” 2. “I’m proud of you.” 3. “Should you say so much or share so much?” 4. “There’s too much fluff.” And on and on the comments go……If I were putting myself out there for notoriety, truly nothing innately good would come to fruition. Yes, God can take impure motives and still use these places as a catapult for something greater. Here’s the truth: I write and share because I feel His pleasure by showing up, by being real, and by exposing my heart.
As fall has arrived and as acorns are falling to the ground, I have often thought about the life of the little acorn. I’ve wrestled with the vastness of the presence they become. Isn’t it fascinating that something so small becomes something so large? Something seemingly insignificant becomes a defining force in our little neighborhood….
“In Christ, we are not held to a standard of perfection—we are held close by His arms of Grace. And there is no greater relief to be found in all the world: There is always more grace in Christ than there is guilt in us.” Ann Voskamp
These timely words arrived to my heart this morning via twitter. Some would say just how frivolous this social media technology is as others can easily expound on some of its beauty. Instead of inviting critical thinking here, wonder if God can really use it, silly it, for the edification and strengthening of His children?
“Lord, You have been our dwelling place throughout all generations.” Psalm 90:1
“He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, ‘He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.’ ” Psalm 91:1-2
“For He will command His angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways.” Psalm 91:11
As I hung up the phone this morning with a dear friend battling stage four cancer, my heart just plain ole hurt.
My boy leaves today to begin his sophomore year at Ole Miss; and today he will leave behind a mom and dad along with two adoring brothers (at times) and a little Maltipoo, Sallie! I hate goodbyes; but I love hellos. There’s just something rather anxiety provoking about the goodbyes. It’s the “what-lies-ahead.” It’s the “not-going-with.” It’s the letting go and trusting him to grow. It’s the not needing me so much anymore. It’s the grieving of not having him home with whom to laugh, to be, and to engage. It’s just a part of our family leaves today and with the departure comes the realization, that change is here. It is not around the corner but right here.
“It’s another lung collapse; in fact, it is the worst one yet. Come with me to look at the scan! I’m not sure who your thoracic physician thinks he is, but he cannot operate on that lung. You will lose part of your lung, your entire lung, or your life!” A pulmonologist
“Come unto Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30″
“I, the Lord do not change….” Malachi 3:6
“…Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name; you are Mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. For I am the Lord, your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior….” Isaiah 43:31-3
Life is a series of transitions. Transitions from picking up toys and cheerios to arranging carpools. From one job to the next. From one crisis to another. From getting out of shape to committing to being back in that gym. From cooking and cleaning to enjoying time with friends and family. From slower days of summer to new beginnings of the school year.
Water is by far one of the most abundant resources available to us on the planet; yet, in some places, it it profoundly difficult to acquire steady supplies like in California presently or difficult to provide clean water without harmful bacteria to live like in Africa. Great strides though are being accomplished now in California and in Africa with the water desalination efforts and the well efforts. We humans were made to be dependent on water; and Jesus uses the illustrations over and over in scripture to broadcast to our deepest need of thirst. A thirst that parallels no other. A thirst that only can be quenched by Another. A thirst that can only be validated when we surrender to our deepest need.
I love to write; I passionately love to write simply because I am forced to articulate what is actually going on in my head and in my heart. It may be good at times but at other times, it may just seem like an endless chatter of verbosity exploding on a piece of perfectly good paper or computer screen. Starting a blog, even if it is primarily for my little sphere of influence, still is daunting as to which direction to start. I could simply dive into story telling or sharing; however, I have come to believe it is important to understand the lens of how I view life and understand life.
Today as the cursor is blinking and beckoning my next word, I am slightly overwhelmed by the task at hand. To step into something different. To step into the arena. To step up to the plate and perhaps, get an “out!” Even as I attempt to write on performance, the truth is that I long to please. I long to encourage one lost soul who is struggling. I long to perform well so that Jesus is pleased. But, could it be that Jesus is pleased with me regardless of my performance? In fact, He loves to show me just how perfect is never attainable; therefore, I am in great need of a Savior. The performance treadmill pervades into every area of our lives; and we begin to define ourselves by how much we have accomplished as well as how well we have accomplished it. We push our kids to achieve good grades and to perform well in sports; yet, the most blessed part should just be the process. The process of hard work. The process of showing up. The process of perseverance. The process.
Welcome! For some time now, I have debated, prayed, and attempted to enumerate all the wonderful reasons NOT to blog. There are so many out there in cyberspace. There are many more gifted writers and communicators; yet, God keeps bringing me back to the place of trusting His purposes. He continues to beckon me out of my comfort zone; to step out in faith; and to trust that He can use even a broken, sinner such as myself to be a conduit of His grace and mercy. Life is a struggle; and C.S. Lewis reminds us that we were made for another world. Until home, God often allows our props to be derailed to the point of utter dependence on the Only One who can calm the storm and the Only One who can truly rescue us. He often ushers us to the point of collapse.
