Category: death

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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.

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Sad, Angry, and Hopeful

Today, I lied to one of my bus passengers. She told me she had been diagnosed with ALS and asked me if I knew anything about it. After stating a couple of generalities, I told her that I couldn’t think of anything else because I didn’t want to be the one to tell her that the disease is fatal. Two days ago, our next door neighbor died from pancreatic cancer, just a few days after coming home from the hospital. A week and a half ago, friends of ours lost their twenty one year old only son in a tragic accident. I see and hear of families and friendships being torn asunder because of pride and selfishness.

I am saddened by all these things. It is heartbreaking to see parents grieving a son that is supposed to outlive them. It grieves me to know that I will no longer speak to my neighbor across the fence between our houses. I am sad to hear of someone contracting a deadly disease. My heart aches to see relationships broken and people I know in pain.

I am angry because none of these things are the way it is supposed to be, the way creation was made to be. I am angry at evil, at sin, at the things that happen to us, and at the things we do to each other. I am angry because I feel helpless much of the time, knowing that so much is out of my control.

I am sad and I am angry. Yet, at the same time I am hopeful. I believe that the Creator of the universe has stepped into this world, taking on humanity. Entering death, on the cross, the King came through the other side and defeated death. His kingdom was inaugurated through this death and has been coming to fruition in small ways ever since. This King will return and set all things to right. I don’t understand everything that happens in this life and there are many things I don’t like. But, I do believe that one day there will be no cancer, no ALS, no death. I believe that all broken relationships will be reconciled and there will be wholeness and peace.

Even so come, Lord Jesus!

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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.

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How Long?

This is a poem I wrote recently.

How long?
How long must parents mourn the death of children
Disease, hunger, war, or their own hand?
How long must children watch parents waste away?
Disease, dementia, or simply age
How long must families, friendships, communities be torn apart?
Selfishness and sin
How long must people and nations be destroyed?
Hatred and war
How long must the land be devastated?
Floods, tornadoes, hurricanes
How long must the earth groan?
Belching fire and tearing violently asunder
Creation is broken. It is not supposed to be this way
How long?
How long must we wait
Reunion with loved ones?
How long must we wait
Relationships set right?
How long must we wait?
Creation set right
How long must we wait?
Disease, pain, death ended
How long must we wait?
Anticipating your return
How long must we wait?
Resurrection and the death of death
We long for the way it is supposed to be

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A Passing Generation

This past Friday, my father-in-law passed from this life into the next. He had been in an assisted living facility for a year and a half after falling and breaking his hip. A little over a month ago, he celebrated his 95th birthday and it became increasingly clear that his life on this earth was nearing its end. He became unresponsive on Thursday, and on Friday took his final breath.

There has been grieving, as is normal when a loved one is no longer there, but there is also a sense of relief and a knowledge that his suffering is over and he is now completely whole and at peace. There is also a sense that things are now different, as the last of our parents has passed from the scene. This generation has been called the “greatest generation,” and there is a sense in which this is true. They defeated the greatest threat to the world up to that time, and came back to build a country that became the most influential on earth.

My father-in-law was a good example of that generation. Charlie left a small town in Iowa to move to Washington, DC and begin a career with the FBI. He began as a clerk, going to school at night to get a college degree in order to become a special agent. This career was interrupted by war and he joined the navy and served in the Pacific as a signalman on a troop transport. His ship was torpedoed by the Japanese and survived a typhoon. After returning to the US, he was promoted to special agent. He served in that position for twenty four years.

After retiring from government service, Charlie spent a few years as head of security at a local bank. I met him after he retired when I began to date his youngest daughter. From the start, I felt completely accepted. I was made to feel like part of the family. For some reason my father-in-law thought I was pretty special. When he moved into the facility in 2014, I hung some plates on his wall. I have a decent eye so I was able to hang them pretty straight without using a level. Charlie was always telling people who came in to see him that I had done such an amazing job of hanging them straight by just eyeballing them. He continually told me what a good son-in-law I was and how glad he was that I had married his daughter. He was always a huge encouragement to me..

Charlie’s sense of humor was a source of amusement for all of us. From him, we learned how a crow lights on a limb. We also learned that if you didn’t know where someone was, they were probably on a night train to Memphis, and we also learned the answer to the question, “Think all this rain will hurt the rhubarb?” (Answer: Not if it’s in cans) My father-in-law, along with my mother-in-law got along very well with my parents, so it was a joy to be able to get to together with all four of them when we visited, and later when all four moved to be near us.

Charlie Parkis is at rest with his Savior. I am grateful for the way he accepted me as if I was his son and for the encouragement he was to our family. He will be missed, but we know we will see him again some day.  

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Blast From the Past: Out of the Cave, Into the…

This was first posted on February 6, 2012. The healing process had begun.

Some of you have read my recent post about finding myself in a cave. I’m now out of the cave, although still not far from the entrance. I now find myself in the middle of a thicket, sort of like a stand of rhododendron or mountain laurel, so thick that you cannot see out of it. It is still somewhat dark, and the direction I should take is unclear. I see many paths out, but don’t know yet which one to take.

There is the path that would take me back into the church world I left a few years ago. Next to it is the path that would take me to the land of the mega-church. Here I could find a place to hide and lick my wounds. One path seems to go in circles, and looks as if it would leave me no better off. Yet another way out continues in the search for community. That is the path that interests me the most, and the way that I have learned most about in the last couple of days.

You see, I have learned something about community, and about myself. I think I’m beginning to learn why I spent time in the dark cave. Anyone who knows me will tell you that I am a pretty laid back individual, but that when I am passionate about something, I tend to go all out. As I learned more and more about the God’s desire for his children to live as brothers and sisters because of Christ, I became more and more passionate with living in community. Dietrich Bonhoeffer said, “The person who loves their dream of community will destroy community, but the person who loves those around them will create community.” As I look back on the past year, and my desire to have and fight for community, I realize I inadvertently pushed it too hard and may have been part of the cause of its destruction. I know that my heart was good, but I think I may have wanted community so badly that I didn’t see the problems that it was causing. Even though I tried to sacrificially love those around me, I think that I didn’t leave room for God to work, thinking that as long as we spent enough time together, growth and maturity would automatically happen.

I now realize that community is something that has to happen naturally, as God’s people learn to love one another. It is something that cannot be forced, and the Holy Spirit must be the one to form it rather than humans whose motives can be tainted by our own needs. I also realize that a particular form of community may not last as long as I think, and that I need to be willing to let it go when it is time. For those of you reading this who have been on the receiving end of my misguided efforts, I am sorry. I put the ideal of community ahead of my brothers and sisters. I was wrong.

As to what is next in this journey along the back roads, only God knows. I know that Jan and I still desire to share our lives with some fellow Christ-followers. I also know that it may not take any form that we expect. It may be in a regular gathering. It may take place in just getting together with one or two who share our desire. What I also know is that I want it to be something that happens as Christ’s Spirit moves, not when I think it should happen.

I’m learning to trust my Father. As I leave the thicket, I want to be hear my Shepherd’s voice and follow him wherever he leads, whenever he leads, and to whatever he leads. I would appreciate your prayers.

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Word for the Year: Love

Every year, I try to pick a word to focus on for that year. Two years ago it was grace, and last year’s word was trust. I have learned a lot about receiving and extending grace and I have learned to trust God and people a bit more, although I am still very much a work in progress in both of those areas.

My word for this year is love. I chose it because I realize how far short I fall in loving. I think I do a decent job of loving those who love me. I can generate good, warm feelings toward my family and friends. I can even treat others with respect. Where I want to focus is that self-sacrificing love with which Jesus loved us.

I want to love Jan as Jesus loves his bride, the church. I want to give myself up for her more and more. I want to treasure her as she is, a person with a God given dignity all her own. That means I have to listen and not be in a hurry to get back to what I was doing. That means I have to not take her for granted and realize every moment how much she means to me.

I want to love others as Jesus has loved me. I want to see others as made in the image of God, whether they are a part of my Tribe or not. That means I have to stop judging others, even those who are guilty of judging. That means I have to truly see others as my Father does and treat them with the respect I want to be given.

I want love to become my defining characteristic. That means I have to lay down my life, my wishes and desires, for the good of other people. That means I have to be a servant, as Jesus was. That is scary, because I have no idea how that will all shake out. I also know that I will fail, at times miserably, so I ask forgiveness in advance.

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The Problem With Community

Community is a wonderful thing. It is how we make disciples and how we grow in the Christian life. But, there is a problem that happens when followers of Jesus come together to live in community. The problem is that there are not that many people who really want to be in community as Scripture presents it.

Most of us have an idealized picture of what Christian community is. We see it as an idyllic place where we are loved and accepted completely and there are never any disagreements, at least any that may lead to someone being hurt. We may see community as simply a group of friends, while the real work of the church gets done on Sunday. We have what Bonhoeffer called “wish dreams,” utopian visions of community. These wish dreams are extremely dangerous, and can eventually kill the community. These idealized pictures cause us to try to center community around something other than Christ and to attempt to keep it going by the sheer force of our wills. I can attest, from personal experience that centering community around anything other than Jesus and what he has done for us will cause the community to crash and burn, with the resultant “loss of life.”

Community is messy. I may misunderstand you or disappoint you. I may offend you or hurt you deeply. You may do the same to me. We will disagree on things. Sometimes those disagreements may be heated. None of us are perfect. Anyone who knows me knows how true that is. Sometimes though, we forget that and are ready to run at the first sign of conflict or the first hurt feeling. Some will say, “That person yelled at me and totally misunderstood me. I’m leaving.” Or, ” He wounded me deeply. I can’t be a part of this anymore.” While there may be times to leave a group if things are bad, many times the leavers have had their picture of community shattered and don’t want to deal with the messiness of trying to work things out. Maybe hard things need to be said or heard. That is part of living as the family of God.

Others will say, “I’m just not being fed. I need a good preacher to feed me.” Good preaching is a part of our growth in Christ, but it is only a part. I would argue, and I think Scripture would bear this out, that the intimate gatherings of God’s children, whether in Missional communities, small groups, or one to one, do more to facilitate spiritual formation than even the best preaching or teaching. It is in the interaction we have with our brothers and sisters on a daily or at least regular basis that shape us. It is in those times that we learn how to follow Jesus in our day-to-day. As we spend time together, we see how others respond in certain situations. The times of disagreement and the times we mess up should be the best times to learn how to love as Jesus loved us and how to extend the same grace we have been given. The troubling times should be the times that actually form us more into Christ’s image and draw us closer to one another.

To do that though, requires us to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters. We don’t like to do that because we may have tried and been ground under the heel of someone we trusted. It’s hard. I’ve felt like I had my heart torn out and stomped on. Add that to the fact that we are basically selfish and living in community looks pretty hard, even impossible. That’s why it has to be centered in the gospel. We are called to be people who repent, who forgive, who seek reconciliation, and who willingly lay down our lives for others. We can only do that if the Spirit has formed our community and gives us the power to live as a spiritual family.

It hurts when people leave. May our communities truly be places where the gospel is lived out and where God’s kingdom comes.