This Sunday, I had the opportunity to speak on John 15:1-17.
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.
38 Years and Counting
On this date thirty eight years ago, Jan and I were married. We have been through a lot in that time, most of it good, some it challenging, and some of it flat out bad. We have reared two children, and are grateful that they have grown into responsible adults. We have buried our parents and become the “older generation.” We have become grandparents. Not once, not twice, but three times in the past thirteen months.
We have lived in five homes in three different cities, moving from the bustle of the Washington, DC area to the more blue collar Cincinnati, Ohio suburbs, to the small, yet growing town of Rock Hill, South Carolina. We have each taught in four different schools. Jan is currently tutoring part time, and I am working as an assistant in a law office. We have spent most of our working years traveling together to the same place, and had the blessing of having our son and daughter in the same schools with us for a good bit of the time. Jan has stuck with me through the times I was without work, when we often wondered how we were going to make it and when I seriously doubted my self-worth. There were times when her belief in me was what kept me going.
I am grateful for a wife who has been a constant in my life. There has never been a time when I doubted her love for me. She has been a support and a blessing to me throughout the years. She is one of the people God has used to mold me into who I am. I am thankful for the privilege of being her husband, her companion, her love. I consider myself most blessed man on earth.
As we enter this new stage of our journey, being grandparents, and dealing with getting a bit older, I am glad to have such a wonderful woman to travel with. Jan, I love you so much more than yesterday, and so much less than tomorrow. Happy Anniversary.
Father
All of us have fathers. My father was a good man. Not perfect, but good. There never was a time when I didn’t know he loved me. He was a good provider and role model. I learned a great deal from him, although not as much as I could, or should, have. He was the kind of father that makes me proud to be his son.
Many folks don’t have a father like that. It is heartbreaking to hear those who had fathers who were absent. Some of their fathers died while they were young, others were absent because of work or simply lack of interest. More heartbreaking are the stories of the fathers who were abusive, who treated their children in ways that no one should be treated.
Our picture of God is often colored by our experience with our earthly fathers. Some of us see God as Abba, as the loving Father who cares perfectly for his children. To us, he is Papa, Daddy. Others unfortunately, have a hard time seeing God as their Father. Their image of God is that of a King who is hard, who is demanding, who is always asking more and more of us. That saddens me, because I believe the picture we have of God has a great deal to do with how free we are able to live as his children.
I once heard someone say something which I believe will help those who struggle with the idea of God as Father. If you have trouble with that, try to imagine the perfect father, with all of the best attributes and no bad qualities. Imagine a father who always makes good and loving decisions, and who always does what is best for his children. Then, take that image and magnify it beyond comprehension. Do that and you have God.
Even the best of earthly fathers are imperfect. My father had his flaws, and I definitely have mine. But our heavenly Father, our Abba, has no flaws. He is absolutely perfect. He is everything anyone would want in a father, and more. We can’t begin to imagine such a perfect father. But we can accept that he is and trust him to be exactly what we need.
Cry out to Abba. Let his furious love wash over you and let him wrap you in his arms. Crawl up in his lap and rest in his perfect care.
Goodbye and Hello
2017 has passed into history. There have been a few years in recent memory to which I bid “Good riddance.” This past year is not one of those. 2017 was a good year for me and my family. Jan and I became grandparents. Twice. I started a new job, which I love. There were some hiccups. It was not a perfect year, but overall it was peaceful, without the drama of some recent years.
As I look back on the past year, I am thankful for the good things that God has blessed us with. Grandchildren and the new job are right up there at the top of the list, along with a deepening of our relationship as husband and wife. Our relationships with our friends has also grown stronger, and we are grateful for them. This year has been more active than most, but we have been blessed with the energy we needed. I have no idea what 2018 holds. I hope that it is as good as 2017, but I realize that it may not be.
I don’t know if your past year was good or bad. I don’t know if you are looking forward to this new year or not. I do know how it feels to be glad one year is gone and also dread the coming year. While I can’t totally understand what everyone goes through, I can empathize. I can also hope and pray with you that 2018 is a good year for you.
Let me encourage you to trust God this coming year. There may be times when you can’t even begin to figure out what he is doing, or if he is even working at all. Those times when you can’t see his hand at work, trust his heart. Trust that the Father’s love for you is so strong that he will never let anything come into your life that he does not use for your good. The last part of Romans 8 is true. There is absolutely nothing on earth or in heaven that can separate you from Abba’s love.
Don’t live this year worrying about the state of your finances, your health, your relationships. Don’t be worried about the future of the country’s politics, or world affairs. The Creator of all things, who is your Father, is in complete control. Since even the fall of a tiny bird doesn’t escape God’s attention, trust that he has your situation firmly in hand. As Julian of Norwich said, “…all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.”
May your 2018 be full of the love of Abba!
So, What’s Been Going On?
Last week I mentioned that a lot had been going on in my life. It’s true. There have been a fair amount of changes around here. All of these changes are good and will hopefully bring further good as time passes.
The first thing that came our way was the news that our daughter and her husband are expecting. They will become parents toward the middle to end of August. Not too very long afterward came the news that our son and daughter-in-law are going to be parents as well! They are adopting a baby boy who is slated to be born sometime between the middle of July and the beginning of August. So, all of a sudden we have gone from having no grandchildren to expecting two! God has answered a lot of prayers.
In the midst of all this wonderful news, I began a new career as a legal assistant for a good friend of ours. This was an answer to prayers that have been going up for the last two years, so needless to say, I am very grateful and happy. They say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, but so far I think I’m learning a lot of new tricks. I’m looking forward to going in to work on Mondays for the first time in quite a while. It definitely has been an adjustment and is much more challenging than anything I’ve done in a while, but it’s certainly not boring.
Hopefully, I can be forgiven for not posting as much lately. If not, that’s okay too. Sometimes certain things have to take a back seat to life. I’m going to try to be more regular in my writing, but I’m not going to make any promises. Life is good, and it marches on. I hope all of you faithful readers have good things happen to you as you continue on your journey.
A Poem: Home Again
I wrote this one a couple weeks ago.
HOME AGAIN
It’s been said that you can’t go home again
I decided to see for myself, so I went back
Back to the places that shaped me
The places that for so long defined my life
They were still there, still the same
Yet somehow different, somehow changed
The house I grew up in seemed smaller
The tree in the front gone, the shed in the back dilapidated
The elementary school still stands, but it too has shrunk
So have the baseball fields where I used to play
The junior high is now a community center
The posts with dirt on top replaced by benches
My old high school has been torn down
Replaced by a new one that looks like a prison
The small town has grown into a sprawl of suburbia
Where it takes forever to drive anywhere
The chicken house has no chickens or eggs
The “giant” hogs are gone from the pen
The path up the hill through the pasture is overgrown
Just a few cows still wander the hillside
The old house has hot water now
You don’t have to heat water on a wood stove for a bath
Cell phones have replaced the old crank wall phone
Where you listen in on other folks’ conversations
The old mules are no longer around
And the smell of Paw’s pipe is long gone
The old wooden church we used to visit is gone
Replaced by a larger brick building
Family names still dot the old graveyards
New ones have been added
They say you can’t go home again
You can, but it’s not home
Church Signs: “A Church Alive…
…Is Worth the Drive.”
This was on the sign in front of a church just down the road from our house. Now, I have no firsthand knowledge of how “alive” this church is, so I won’t address that. My issue is more with the idea of making a (possibly long) drive to a church.
When Jan and I were in the process of trying to find a church a few years ago, we visited a few churches within the metro area of which our city is a part. Most of them had good things going for them, and probably could be considered “alive” by most folks. None of them had any doctrinal issues that would have been a deal breaker.
There was one thing that steered us away from all of these churches. They were all at least a twenty to thirty minute drive from our house. While that would have been fine if all we were looking for was a Sunday morning worship service, we were looking for something quite different. We were looking for community, a place where we could serve, love, and be loved. We were looking for a group that we could join with in living as brothers and sisters who saw life together as the church as far more than just a once or twice a week meeting. We wanted a spiritual family that spent time fellowshipping and discipling as a part of day-to-day life.
We wanted to serve with the folks we worshipped with and worship with the folks we served with. We desired to be fully part of a community of faith. Fortunately, we have found that and I can’t imagine traveling one day a week to worship with people who I only see on that day.
There are a lot of folks who do prefer the drive in order to find a church which is “alive.” I know that there are churches like that who do kingdom work and truly make disciples. However, I believe that the model of smaller, parish type churches who live in community and are a part of the neighborhood where they are located are what is going to do the most work for the kingdom in the days to come. I believe that a time may come in this country when followers of Jesus will have to live in community in order to continue. It might do us good if we started now.
Ten Years Ago, Part 2
It was a beautiful early Fall day, and my dad and I had travelled down to the Charleston, SC area to watch his grandson, my nephew, play soccer. My mom had passed away thirty-three days earlier. I didn’t really want to be gone from home that day but drove him down because he really wanted to go.
I’m glad I went, because that day would be the last time I would see my father in this life. During halftime of the soccer game, while my niece and I were coming back from the concession stand, my dad suffered a massive heart attack and died. Paramedics tried to revive him, but he was gone and suddenly I was without both of my parents. I truly believe that Dad died of a broken heart.
Here it is, ten years later, and so much of that day and the ones immediately following are still pretty fresh in my memory. I had lost my hero, the one I looked up to even when I was angry with him. Even though there were things we didn’t see eye-to-eye on, I still loved him and knew that he loved me. I see a great deal of my dad in me and even though I didn’t get the handyman gene,(that skipped me and went straight to Josh) I did inherit enough stubbornness to at least try. Sometimes I’m successful!
Over the past ten years, I’ve become more and more comfortable in my own skin, as my father was comfortable in his. I look back with satisfaction at the ways I am like him. It’s in those ways, now that I understand better, that I saw Jesus in my dad. Hopefully the same is true with me.
Ten Years Ago
It was on this date, ten years ago, that my mom left this life and entered the next. Today we went to the memorial service for the wife of a friend of my father-in-law. As family members spoke of their wife and mother, my mind went back to that day when we said goodbye to the one who had given me birth.
It was a bit hard to hear others speak of their mother on the tenth anniversary of my mom’s passing. I thought back, as I heard the sons speak lovingly of their mom. While the last couple of years of my mom’s life were spent dealing with the devastating effects of Alzheimer’s, I can look back beyond that time to the person she was before the disease so cruelly took her away.
The thing that stands out most in my mind was the quiet, solid faith of my mother. She was not a theologian or one who taught great numbers of people. But, her life had an impact on me, my sister, our children, and many others. She was what C. S. Lewis would have called a mere Christian.
Jesus said that one of the defining characteristics of his followers would be their love. That was certainly true of my mother. She was known as one who loved. Her love for her husband and for her children was evident to all. Her love for others outside of her family was obvious to all who knew her.
Mom was kind and hospitable to all, and was generosity was well known. She was the epitome of grace and love to all who knew her. I pray that some of that was passed down to me. While the last years of her life were hard on her, and on us, I am thankful for the memories of a mother who kept the greatest commandments, who truly loved God and loved others.