Category: grieving

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Fifteen Years Already?

It’s hard to believe that it has been fifteen years since my mom went to be with her Savior. Mom had suffered from Alzheimer’s Disease for a number of years. Eventually she reached the point where my dad could no longer take care of her at home, no matter how much he tried. After a short stay in the hospital, Mom was admitted to a local nursing home to live out her final days. It was hard on all of us, but it was especially hard on Dad, who I believe thought that he had failed as a husband. Within a few months, Mom slipped away and we said goodbye.

As it often happens with a disease like Alzheimer’s, there was both sadness and a sense of relief. By the end, Mom didn’t know anyone or anything that was going on. She had gone from the sweetest person anyone could know, to someone else entirely. As her mind slipped away, negative things from her childhood came back to life. We knew that the one we were interacting with was not the wife and mother we knew and loved, so when she died we were relieved that her suffering was over and she was made whole.

I remember the funeral back in Maryland. It was a rainy day, and the song “I Will Praise You in the Storm” came on the radio. While bringing a fresh toreent of tears, the song also brought comfort. I knew that I could praise God in the midst of the physical storm and the emotional storm because the loved me and he loved Mom. She was now resting in his presence and one day all of the tears would be wiped away.

Over the years, the pain has lessened. That is only natural. I still remember all of the good times with a wonder, loving mom who would gladly have given herself up for her children. While I do remember the last couple of years of her life and the struggle it was, I can look back on it thankful that the Father carried me through that with the same loving arms with which he carried Mom home.

I believe that I will see my mom someday, and we will never have to part in tears again.

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Blast From the Past: The Prodigal Son – Becoming the Father

In The Return of the Prodigal Son, Henri Nouwen writes that the challenge for him is to become the father. It is a challenge that is full of difficulties. When we look again at the Father in our own stories, we can see how daunting it is.

Our Father is gracious and loving without condition. He gives us many good gifts, but the most important gift he gives is himself. The Father is reckless in giving himself to us. Jesus, who is the image of the Father, gave his very life for us, pouring out his blood for our salvation. We are granted grace and mercy without measure from an eternal, inexhaustible love. There is nothing our Father wouldn’t do for our good.

As children of God, we are called to be like him. When I look in a mirror, I see my dad. The eyes, the facial features, the hair (or lack thereof), the voice, all show whose son I am. The same is to be true of those who are children of the heavenly Father. As God is loving and compassionate, so we are to be loving and compassionate. As God is gracious and merciful, so we are to be gracious and merciful. As God gives himself, so we are to give ourselves. You get the idea.

In my late twenties my life changed as I became a father. Even though I was still a son, I was now a person with a child. That brought a change in responsibilities, and a change in perspective. As we mature in Christ, we are to leave both the prodigal and the elder son behind. We are still in need of fathering from God, but our vocation changes. We are now called to be the father. As I look at the father in the story, I see some things that will be true as we become the father. Nouwen states that the three ways to compassionate fatherhood are grief, forgiveness, and generosity.  

We grieve over those who have left home, we grieve over the injustice and abuse in the world, and we grieve over our own weakness. One aspect of grieving is realizing that we cannot save the one who has wandered away. The father in the story didn’t go after his son, but he watched and waited for him to return. So it is with us. Many times, all we can do is pray that God will turn the prodigal around. We can not go into the far country and drag them back. All we can do is wait and be ready to welcome them home.

This grieving makes us sensitive to others who are hurting, and the sensitivity leads us to forgive those who wrong us. As the father did, we forgive without question any and all who return. As Jesus said, we forgive, and forgive, and forgive, and forgive, and so on. True forgiveness also reconciles. The father didn’t say to the prodigal, “I forgive you, but I think I’ll just keep you on as a servant.” He accepted him back as his beloved son. No strings attached.

The third way to compassionate fatherhood is generosity. The father spared nothing to celebrate his son’s return. He gave the best of everything, including himself. We are called to give ourselves to others in the same way. Yes, we may get hurt. I’m sure the father was hurt when the elder son refused to join the party, and I would guess the younger son wasn’t perfect after he was restored. He may well have cause his father more pain. We are to remember the hurt we have caused our Father and the grace he gives us regardless, and do the same for others.

May the Father enable us to be as gracious, loving, and compassionate to others as he is to us.

Blast From the Past: The Prodigal Son – The Younger Son

Blast From the Past: The Prodigal Son – The Elder Son

Blast From the Past: The Prodigal Son – The Father

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Eastertide Thoughts

It has been one week since those of us in the western church celebrated Easter. The Orthodox tradition will celebrate Easter on May 2 this year. Eastertide is the period between Easter Sunday and Pentecost, so the celebration continues in many churches for a full 50 days. Personally, I think that’s a good idea.

This year, I’ve been doing much more thinking about the importance of Easter to those of us who follow the One who was raised from the dead. I think a 50 day celebration of the event that changed history is something that should be practiced much more than it is now.

This has been a momentous year for many of us, with a lot of things happening that caused us to think about what is really important and about the brevity of our lives here on this earth. A little over a year ago, I had a heart attack. Within a couple of weeks, everything was locked down because of a deadly virus. We didn’t get to celebrate Easter in person last year. We didn’t get to do a whole lot of anything in person last year.

We saw the number of cases and deaths grow as the year went on, and very few of us didn’t at least know someone who caught the virus. Add to this what seemed to be the death of reason and understanding in the civil discourse in this country, and the year looked more bleak as it dragged on. We made it to the end of the year, but the future looked very uncertain.

In some ways the future is looking better. In other ways, there is still turmoil and uncertainty. Personally, my health is much better now, but there are things that have happened to keep the realities of life in a broken world in the forefront. From friends and neighbors who have cancer to friends whose parents have fallen ill, from families that are broken to our small town reeling from a senseless murder and suicide, there is much to make one wonder if there really are any answers.

There are many questions that we may never have answered fully. There are some that may not be answered at all. That is why Eastertide this year has become meaningful to me. I believe that Easter is the answer. We may not have all the details filled in for us, but Easter means that death has been brought down, had all its teeth kicked out, and ground into the dust in defeat.

Because King Jesus rose from the dead and inaugurated his kingdom, I know that my friends with cancer will unltimately be healed and will live in the new creation. I know that there will be peace on earth and the swords will be beaten into plowshares, and there will be no war. I know that there will be no hatred or murder, no struggle over possessions, or arguments over ideas. There will be no cancer, heart trouble, Alzheimer’s or Huntington’s Disease. Every tear will be wiped away and everything sad will become untrue.

Let us rejoice and feast! Break out the champagne! There is nothing worth celebrating more than the fact that death has lost its sting, and the grave has no victory. It is not the end yet, but it will be all right in the end. Hallelujah! Christ is risen!

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Ash Wednesday

Today is Ash Wednesday. In many church traditions, the day is marked by putting ashes in the sign of the cross on one’s forehead. The Church of England is even making it possible to digitally put ashes on the forehead. Today marks the beginning of Lent, a season of remembering and lamenting our brokenness and the brokenness of this world in which we live. This time leads us to the time we remember what Jesus went through on the cross, because of our sin. During Lent, many fast by giving up food, drink, television, social media, or any other pleasurable thing. Others add items of service or charity to their schedule.

Lent is a time to lament, something we here in the West don’t do a very good job of. I know I can easily look at the negative, but I don’t do a very good job of living in the moment and allowing myself space to lament. I prefer to try to quickly look for the positive, to look at the glass as half full. That doesn’t always work. The past twelve months have seemed like an extended season of Lent, and we all have had to give up things as the time has dragged on. There has been a lot of lamenting over what has been lost. Many of those losses don’t lend themselves easily to a positive spin.

Lament and sorrow is not a bad thing. Scripture is full of lament. There is even a book in the Bible titled Lamentations. The Psalms are full of people mourning over this or that. Job lamented his condition and God did not call him out for it. Holding in grief can cause mental and physical problems, and can stunt our emotional and spiritual growth. It’s okay to sorrow and grieve. It’s okay to give voice to that grief.

Give yourself permission to grieve and lament. This past year has been hard. We have all lost, some more than others. Some of those things that have been lost will never be reclaimed. We will never get back those days, weeks, and months. Because we do live in a broken world, there will be more losses ahead.

As followers of Jesus, we have something that can help us in our lamenting. We can be assured that nothing is completely hopeless because our Savior experienced what seemed like the most hopeless of situations and came out the other side, having defeated the one who wields the sword of hopelessness. Jesus conquered death and we need not fear it. We need not fear anything life has to throw at us because we have a loving Father who has it all in his hands. He has promised to turn our mourning into dancing. We can grieve, but we grieve with hope. Hope that one day all tears will be wiped away, and everything sad will become untrue.

In the book Tales of the Kingdom, the signal cry of the Rangers says, “How goes the world?” “The world goes not well! But the Kingdom comes!” Grieve, but grieve well. Lament with the knowledge that it all will be well.

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Blast From the Past: The Cave

This was first published eight years ago when I was going through some things.

Papa! Papa! Where am I?

How did I get here? It’s so dark. I can’t see a thing!
I remember walking along the path with my friends. Next thing I know I’m waking up here in the dark. I think I remember the path passing near the entrance of a cave. Is that where I am?

How do you feel?

Everything hurts. I feel like I got hit by a truck. Now I remember. We were walking along when I was hit by something. Who would have done something like this?

An Enemy has done this.

Papa, it hurts so bad! I don’t understand! I’m all alone here in the darkness and I feel like everyone has abandoned me!

You are not alone. Your most trusted long time companion is near, waiting for you. I am here.

How did this happen? Everything seemed good. There was some loose rock on the path at times, and there were some places where part of the path had washed away. but I thought we had gotten past them. I thought this part of the journey was going well. I thought we were together.

Papa?

I’m broken. I feel like I can’t move. I’m afraid to try because I can’t see and I don’t know if it’s safe. I don’t know what to do!

Do you remember the time you spent in the desert learning to trust me rather than what you expected me to do?

Yes, I do. That was hard.

You still have more to learn.

Does it have to be so painful? I’d rather lose a job again than feel so hurt and rejected!

Papa, what do I do?

Stay here for awhile. Don’t move. I know it’s dark and you’re scared, but I’m here with you. You are broken, but my love will heal you. You are safe here. Learn again to trust me. No matter what.

When the time comes, I will lead you out of this place, and you and the person who truly loves you will continue on in your journey with me.

Papa, help me! I have no strength.

I know. I am your strength. I love you, son.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.