We’ve had some hard news. And a loved one has had some even harder news. My husband is with our extended family, and he’s five thousand, three hundred, and forty-seven miles away. And, I’m back at home looking after our kids.

Because of this news, we’ve become fully-fledged members of the sandwich generation––caring for elderly relatives and young children. I spent this morning reading through spreadsheets and investigating how best to care for our family abroad as well as our immediate family here at home. I feel weighed down from the place we now find ourselves in, I miss my husband, and I wish I could give him a hug. 

So I sit here, stunned, considering the diagnosis, and I’m asking God for his mercy, and I hear him whisper, 

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.

Matthew 11:29 NIV

My mind lingered on the word gentle. I couldn’t help but reflect on those patients I nursed in their last days. Sometimes death came quickly and, at other times, it lingered. But when the end came, peace was palpable as they moved from this world to the next.

At the very end when death is imminent, there’s rarely anger … only gentleness, tenderness, and sorrow as we navigate this unknown terrain.

The gentleness of God is not something I think about a lot. Yet I’ve read about it numerous times. I know it’s a part of who God is. It’s a fruit of the Holy Spirit.

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Galatians 5:22

It’s a characteristic though, that doesn’t get much attention. Maybe because in the world we live in, it’s not a revered quality … not like joy, happiness, kindness, all of which are easy to see and give to others.

Whereas gentleness is, well, much more … gentle.

The Oxford dictionary defines gentleness as: a softness of action or effect, lightness. For example, the gentleness of his touch.

When I hear the word gentle, I think of a feather falling from the sky, rocking my babies in my arms, tending their scraped knees, or holding my husband’s hand when he learned he had to go back to the UK. It’s a strange thing to think of our almighty, powerful, strong, determined, bold, and focused father in heaven being gentle with his touch.

But that he is. He is gentle with us. Sometimes so gentle we don’t even realize it. One of the verses I’ve turned to again and again as we’ve raised our world changers is the one quoted to all parents when they’re struggling.

​​He tends his flock like a shepherd:

  He gathers the lambs in his arms

and carries them close to his heart;

  he gently leads those that have young.

Isaiah 40:11 NIV

 

To be honest, when this verse was first shared with me, I would have happily discarded it if it wasn’t for being God’s word. What new mom wants to hear God gently leads you when you have young. Personally, I would have preferred for God to tell me what to do with a clear voice, show me with a strong hand, and clearly illuminate the path. There were moments I spent in tears as a toddler kicked and screamed in the grocery store or was inconsolable because I gave them the wrong sippy cup or spoon. It was in those moments I didn’t want the gentle hand of God guiding me, I wanted the clear path and for him to carry me through it and to tell me what to do.

Yet my desire for clear direction repeated itself as we’ve parented. His gentle hand helped us as we limped and muddled our way through parenthood. It’s still the pattern today. Instead of toddler tantrums, it’s teenage outbursts. Instead of sleepless nights, it’s telling the kids to go to bed. And instead of picking up our child and putting them on time out, it’s gently letting go of their hand and trusting them to make good choices and to bear the consequences of their actions.

This verse in Isaiah 40 also speaks to me now as we navigate palliative care. We have lots of decisions to make, and there’s no right or wrong for any of them. Our extended family may not be young from a worldly perspective. But in the kingdom of heaven they are. So as my husband and I navigate end-of-life care, I’m trusting we can make their last few months and years the best they can be. I’m trusting that our almighty God, the alpha and omega, the warrior, the father, the one who loves us completely, and keeps no record of wrongs, will gently guide my husband and me, and lead us as we care not only for our children at home, but also our elders.

Where do you see the gentleness of God in your life today? And how can you be gentle with someone? It’s his gentleness that gives rest to our souls.

A love letter from God … (based on Psalm 23)

Dear lovely one,

I am your shepherd, you lack nothing. I make you lie down in green pastures, and today I lead you beside quiet waters and refresh your soul. I am guiding you along the right path because of who I am, and because of my name. Even though you walk through the darkest of valleys, you will fear no evil for I am with you; my rod and my staff will comfort you.

Rest assured, I have prepared a table for you in the presence of your enemies. Even now, I am anointing your head with oil as the cup I hold out to you overflows.

I promise you my goodness and love will always be with you all the days of your life, and you will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

I see you, my beloved; I love you. And I am with you always. 

Love, God.