Encouragement From a Lamppost

Last night was a night of fitful sleep and unsatisfying dreams. When I awoke this morning, I was feeling the weight of a number of things that are happening in this little conrner of the world. The events of the past few months and the strain that has put on relationahips of people that I know, the friend who is waiting for a possible diagnosis of cancer, and the friend whose mother just had a stroke, along with the stresses of helping lead a faith community to follow Jesus more closely. These are on top of dealing with Jan’s HD and all that goes with it, and trying to keep myself healthy.

When I went to the kitchen to make coffee, I looked out the window into our backyard. What I saw was similar to the picture above, minus the snow and fir trees. It was about 6:45, and the sky was just beginning to lighten. What I saw was unusual because the lamp had never stayed lit all through the night before this, and the previous day had been cloudy. I had bought that particular lamppost because it reminded me of the lamppost in the Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis.

When I saw the lamp still lit, the first thing that I thought (I believe it was God speaking to my heart) was, “There is still hope.” In the Narnia tales, the lamppost marked the border between Narnia and the wardrobe in the spare room. In some way it signified hope, because it was there that the story of Aslan coming and reclaiming Narnia began. As you read through the rest of the books, there is always an undercurrent of hope, no matter how dire the circumstances.

I have no idea what is going to happen in each of those situations I mentioned. I know I am praying for healing and restoration, but I also know that the final outcome is beyond my reach. But there is still hope. There is still the hope that no matter what happens, my loving Father has us all in his hands, and he always does what is good and right. There is still hope that the King of Kings will return and make everything right, healing every hurt and wiping every tear. There is still hope that Romans 8:18-39 is true.

You may be going through something similar, or worse. Things may well seem hopless to you. I would encourage you to look to the One who alone can give hope. Look to the King who has conquered death and who is bringing a new creation. Look to him because, to be honest with you, without him it is hopeless.

Thoughts on Epiphany, 2021

The word epiphany, at its core, means a revealing. This past Wednesday was Epiphany Day, and the events that unfolded in Washington, DC and other cities revealed a few things.

First, they revealed the true nature of some, not all of the supporters of Donald Trump. I recognize that many of the folks who have supported him the past four years are good people with motives they consider right. Having said that, I also believe that many of the folks that have ridden the Trump train have done so because they do not want to see “their side:, whatever that is, lose power. Many of the Republicans who are now loudly speaking out against him had nothing to say the last four years because they wanted to keep their party in power. There are folks who are afraid that white Americans will lose power and “those people” will take all our liberties away. I believe that this fear has led many to embrace some of the conspiracy theories swirling around the recent election. If a theory about the election, or anything else for that matter, is put forth by someone who believes that lizard people are among us and out to take all our children away to be eaten or turned into zombies, it’s probably not true.

The other thing the events of last Wednesday revealed is the utter bankruptcy of trying to do the work of the Kingdom of God using the tools of the world. There is actually a huge conspiracy out there. It is the conspiracy of the ruler of the powers of the air, i.e. satan. He has been conspiring and attempting to destroy God’s creation ever since the beginning. He is the father of lies, and is constantly trying to hinder what God is doing by attacking and dividing. He has succeeded in dividing the Church in America, because we have bought the lies that our political allegiance is paramount, that the ballot box will determine if the Church will succed or fail. I was appalled to see banners with Jesus on them carried next to Trump banners, as if they were equal. I was disheartened to see the Christian flag carried into the chambers of Congress by members of the mob. I am saddened by the preachers who stand in front of rallies and proclaim that they must fight to preserve their rights. Peter tried that in the garden and Jesus told him to put his sword away. And don’t quote the verse to me where the disciples tell Jesus they had two swords and he said that was enough. Do you really believe he was saying two swords would be enough to fight against the Roman Empire?

I don’t care on which side of the aisle we place ourselves. If we claim to follow the One who said his Kingdom was not from this world, who told his followers to love their enemies, who willingly gave himself over to the authorities to be killed, we have no business condemning folks who disagree with us. We have no business hitching our wagon to the star of any political party. Neither Trump nor Biden is equal to Jesus. The United States is not equal to the Kingdom of God. We have no business downgrading our faith by taking it down to the level of our political ideas.

Followers of Jesus, we have work to do. There are too many who have taken the mission of the Kingdom and turned it into gaining earthly power and influence. There are too many who are making Republicans, or Democrats, or Libertarians instead of making disciples of King Jesus. I can understand why many have rejected the message. It’s because we have either proclaimed the wrong message or we have hidden the real message under layers of garbage. We must return to telling others that there really is a King, that he died to free us from sin and death, that he rose again because he had broken the power of death, and that he calls everyone to follow him. We must tell them that this King will return and that he will set everything right. Along with this proclamation, we must show the world that it is true by the way we live our lives, loving each other, loving our enemies, and living out our sole allegiance to the King of Kings over and above any other party or man.

God help us to recapture the gospel.

Goodbye and Hello

Tonight we say goodbye, or rather, good riddance to the year 2020, and say hello to 2021.

Sometimes, there is a sense of loss in looking back on the year. I don’t believe this year is any different. Many, if not most of us can look back on things lost this year. Lost opportunities abound. Many didn’t get the chance to have their graduation, final season, vacation, family reunion, etc. The list goes on. Businesses closed, and millions of people lost their jobs. Even worse, many lost health and loved ones.

Our institutions took a hit as well. Many churches lost people as attending a virtual worship service morphed into not bothering at all for many. Our political process turned into a sideshow that may have long lasting repercussions. Our society seems as divided as ever, and many wonder if it will ever come back together.

Even the weather seemed to have it out for us. The hurricane season began before the official date and ended after it was supposed to be over. There was a record number of storms, adding to the loss and devastation in some parts of the country.

While there are many reasons to simply write this year off, there have been positive things happen. American politics haven’t yet fallen apart completely, even though some may have been trying to make that happen. Even with all the machinations, the system is still working. In the midst of the division, there has been more of a desire to ensure the rights of those whose rights have been under appreciated. We still have a long way to go, but it’s a start. Even with the horrendous loss of lives from this pandemic, it could have been worse. We have seen people join together on an unprecedented scale to try and alleviate the suffering of others. Many heroes have emerged from this tragedy. There has been much good come out of adversity.

We can look to the year ahead with trepidation or with hope. There will be dark days ahead, as the pandemic continues. Politicians will still look out for their own interests, and forget about the rest of us. There will still be selfish people, and the economy will still struggle. I choose to believe that better days are ahead, regardless of what shape those days might take. To do otherwise would be to give in to despair. As a follower of King Jesus, I believe that nothing that happened this past year suprised him, and that nothing in the future is going to shock him.

I have seen God work in some amazing ways in this past year, and I believe he will contine to work in the year to come. You might call me a starry-eyed optimist who isn’t grounded in reality, but my optimism isn’t an everything will be peachy keen, rose colored glasses optimism. My outlook is shaped by the firm belief that the King has come, has brought his Kingdom and the new creation into being, and will return again to finally set all things right. That is the reality in which I live. I hope you too can come to see that truth as well.

May God bless you in this year ahead.

Thinking

This is the beginning of a reflective, even somewhat sad, period. Those of you that know me, know that I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve and feel things deeply. The time from Thanksgiving to Christmas has always been an emotional time for me. Family is important to me, and family is what that time of year is all about.

Fourteen years ago today, my mother died from Alzheimer’s Disease. Thirty three days later, my father joined her. Thanksgiving and Christmas that year were tough. My emotions were right on the edge most of that time. Even though it has been fourteen years, there is still emotion. There is still a sadness, although the good memories are mixed in, in a greater proportion. In October, 2009, Jan’s mom passed away. That added another layer to the grieving and healing process. Jan’s dad left this life in May, 2016, so none of them are around to share in the family celebrations. They say that time heals all wounds. I’m not totally sure that is true. I think time can bring healing, but the wounds are never completely gone. I do believe that our pain and sorrow can be transformed, and we can be better for them.

The sad time, if you want to call it that, begins a little earlier now. Last week, our dog Charlie died. He had been a faithful companion to our family for the past thirteen years. While losing a pet obviously is not the same as losing a person, there is still a hole left behind. All of those things added together leads to good memories mixed with regret, to happiness mixed with sadness. Something will happen, or someone will say something, and emotions will be triggered. Certain dates become more important than others.

I am thankful that my heavenly Father knows all things, and is gracious and loving. I am thankful for the knowledge that our parents are resting with him and are not suffering. I am grateful for the good memories we have, and for what we can learn from the not so good ones. I can look back and see how things in my past have, in some way, shaped who I am today. As I go into this season, I can look back and see how God is truly working all things for my good and for his glory. I am grateful for that.

Remembering a Dog

When we brought him home from the shelter, he was a 2 month old puppy named Chester. We immediately changed the name to Charles Chaplain because he was black with white markings and reminded us of the Little Tramp. We shortened it to Charlie. Charlie was a cute little puppy, with ears that went up and out, looking like the Flying Nun. He was quite a handful at first, very active and curious. He used to follow us down the hall, nipping at our heels, and it was a job to keep him from digging under the fence to attempt to escape. When he did get out, it was play time for him. Eventually we would get him back in the yard, although there was one time when we thought he was gone and wouldn’t come back.

We finally took Charlie to a place to get him, and us, some training. Charlie picked up on things very quickly because he was a very intelligent dog. The trainer said she thought he was part border collie, because of his looks and intelligence. That explained the herding behavior and his constant need to be outside running around. We never had to take him anywhere for exercise, because our back yard is large and fenced. He was able to run to his heart’s content. Because we live on a corner at the beginning of our neighborhood, everyone got to know Charlie.

As we were in the process of becoming empty nesters, Charlie was a wonderful companion. He always greeted us at the door with his whole back end wagging. In the mornings we would go out together and get the newspaper. I would ask Charlie if he wanted to go get the paper and you could see the absolute joy course through his entire body. He was already to play and never seemed to tire. We enjoyed watching him chase squirrels in our back yard. After a while he simply chased them to the tree and let them run away, and then seemed to grow bored with even that because it was too easy.

During Charlie’s life, no one ever came to see us. They all came over to visit Charlie. At least that’s what he thought. Everyone who came to visit was an instant friend, and he greeted them with total affection. The only person he didn’t seem to like was the poor man who came to read the electric meter every month. For some reason Charlie thought he was a threat to our house.

For the past few months, as Charlie aged, he slowed down a fair amount. When he did go out and run, he was just as fast as ever. He had a new friend who used to run up and down the side fence with him and Charlie had no problem keeping up with him. In between running, he began to sleep a lot. He developed arthritis in his joints, and it got hard for him to get up and down. It seemed like all of a sudden, Charlie had become an old dog. He still liked to run and play at times, but those times were shorter and fewer.

Last Friday, Charlie stopped eating. We had been given some medicine for his arthritis, and we don’t know if that suppressed his appetite or not. He continued drinking water, so we thought if we stopped the medicine that would help. On Tuesday, Jan called the vet and told him what was going on. He was going to prescribe another pain medicine for Charlie. During those last few days. he threw up a few times and had very little interest in any activity. Tuesday afternoon, Charlie’s buddy came by and they ran up and down the fence a couple of times. Charlie didn’t run far and was limping. The other dog’s owner said that Charlie’s bark sounded weak.

That evening, we went to bed. Charlie was in the front hall, where he had been for a few hours. In the middle of the night I heard him throwing up in the bedroom next to ours. I cleaned up after him, told him I loved him and went back to bed. A couple hours later, Jan got up and cleaned up after him again. When I got up at 6:15, I went into the room and saw that Charlie had left us, not long before. We buried him in the back yard later that morning, and said our goodbyes. A life full of happily running and playing was over. He was no longer in pain, now it was our turn to hurt. While we are glad that Charlie is no longer suffering, there is a hole in our hearts. There will be no more walks to get the paper, no more greetings at the front door. I walk out of our bedroom in the morning and look to see where Charlie spent the night. Then I realize he is no longer there.

I don’t know if dogs go to heaven. I do believe that there will be animals in the new creation. Perhaps God will create a Charlie. Then again, maybe not. I do know that I am grateful for the thirteen years we had with a canine companion who brought a great deal of joy into our lives. We loved Charlie and we will miss him. I don’t think we could have asked for a better pet, and I know he can never be replaced.

Little Bit of an Update

This past week, Jan and I had the opportunity to take part in the Huntington’s Disease Society of America (HDSA) national convention. Because of the pandemic, it was a virtual gathering. It was both informative and inspiring. There were sessions on what to expect, advances in research, and how others were coping. Due to our schedule, there were many things we couldn’t get to, but it was all recorded and will be on the HDSA website.

As Jan’s HD progresses, it was good to be given a sense of what lay ahead. Even though it will get more difficult, it is comforting to be armed with the knowledge of what is going on and some ways we can cope. It was also good to see how different people were dealing with the disease. There was not a sense of despair or sadness. There was more of a feeling that this is the way it is and right now we have to deal with it and live our lives as best we can.

There is also good news for the future. There is promising research that may lead to making HD a disease that we used to talk about. It’s possible that some day the faulty part of the gene will be tweaked and will not be an issue. While we don’t know if it will happen soon enough to help Jan, there is hope for our children and grandchildren.

Please continue to pray for us as we navigate the changes that will happen and learn to deal with each new normal as it comes up.

Getting Personal

May is Huntington’s Disease Awareness month. This month is significant to our family. Last summer, my wife Jan was diagnosed with HD. Later, we found out that both of our children and one of Jan’s sisters also have it.

HD is a genetic, fatal neurological disease for which there is no cure. Yet. If you want to find out more about it you can go to https://hdsa.org/what-is-hd/overview-of-huntingtons-disease/?

As you can probably guess, the diagnosis of a disease such as this has changed our lives. After all, since there is no cure, it will end in death. There is currently no treatment for the disease, only for the symptoms. As the disease progresses, there will be issues with memory and processing, problems with balance and movement and issues with speech and swallowing. Death is often caused by pneumonia, heart failure, choking or other complications. Depending on when the symptoms appear, the course can run from ten to twenty five years.

There are varying degrees of HD. How severe the disease will be depends on the number of “repeats” in a particular gene. The lower the number, the shorter and less severe. The threshold number is 40. That is Jan’s number. The folks with the higher numbers usually show symptoms between the ages of 30 and 50.

We are in a season of trying to settle into a new normal, with only a limited idea of what the future will look like. We know that we have to trust that our loving Father has us in his hands, and that he will be with us through whatever may come. There will be days ahead when Jan will not be able to do many of the things she once did, and there will be times of frustration and wondering.

Our children also face the unknown, but there is encouraging news for them. A number of clinical trials are showing promise, and there is a possibility of a future treatment that could effectively cure HD. We hope and pray that medical science is able to accomplish this soon.

We would appreciated your thoughts and prayers for us as we travel down this back road together.

Cracks

In “Anthem”, Leonard Cohen sings,

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything (there is a crack in everything)
That’s how the light gets in .

There is a good bit of truth in what Mr. Cohen sings. In the song, he speaks of wars that will continue to be fought, of a holy dove that will be caught, bought, and sold again. There are marriages that are spent, births that are betrayed. Parts that don’t add up, and marches without a drum.

In the midst of situations that seem to be futile, the song tells us to find those bells that still will ring and ring them. It tells us to forget about trying to bring a perfect offering because there is a crack in everything. But that crack is how the light gets in.

Anyone that knows anything about the human condition knows that we are all cracked. No one is perfect. Those of us who follow Jesus should know better than anyone how imperfect and cracked we are.

The truth I see in “Anthem” is this: We are all cracked and can not bring a perfect offering to our Father. Fortunately, we have a perfect offering made for us; Jesus the Messiah. His sacrifice takes away the guilt of all our mistakes and sins. Because our Father has provided a perfect offering, we can continue to ring our bells and proclaim God’s perfect love and grace, and the sacrifice he has provided.

Our cracks are not something to be covered up. We need to remember that even the best among us has cracks. None of us is perfect and it doesn’t do any good to pretend that we are. We see the cracks in another. What makes us think that others cannot see our own cracks?

As it turns out, the cracks are actually good things, when we admit that we have them. Admitting our cracks makes us vulnerable. It makes us willing to be who we are before God, who knows us inside and out anyway, and before others. It allows us to know and be known. It lets us understand and empathize with others who are cracked in some way. All of these things can allow the light of the gospel to shine into our hearts, and into the hearts of those we love.

Do you have any bells that can still ring? Ring them. Don’t try to be perfect, but rest in the perfect offering made by Jesus. Be open and don’t try to hide your cracks. Let the light of the Father’s love shine into you and then out of you onto others.