Category: suffering

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Blast From the Past: Lent

The following is a repost of something I wrote in 2011, with some updates:    

Today is the first day of Lent. Ash Wednesday is celebrated by Christians around the world with a service that includes the placing of ashes on the forehead of the worshippers. The ashes are to remind that we are made from dust, and to dust we will return. That is one part of the Lenten observance that I have not often participated in. In the tradition in which I grew up, Lent (like most of the church calendar) was not even on our radar. We celebrated Christmas, Palm Sunday, and Easter. I had a vague notion that other days were observed in other traditions, but we were taught that those days were not important.

As I approach the Lenten period, I am struck by the fact that our bodies are formed from the dust of the ground, and to that dust they will return. Because of the brokenness of Creation, we face the inevitable decay of our physical selves. Any middle-aged man who has tried to compete in sports at the same level he did when he was in his twenties can attest to that. At some point our bodies will wear out and no longer be useful to us. When they are then placed in the ground, they will return to the dust from which they came. As we look around us, we see that decay in every part of our world. Ash Wednesday and Lent are good reminders that we are broken and in need of a savior.

Thankfully, that is not the end of the story. During this time, we take a good hard look at our humanity and our brokenness, but we also look ahead to the time when our Savior will return and will restore Creation. We look forward to the resurrection and the Kingdom of God coming in all its fullness. When I think about Ash Wednesday, and the symbolism of the ashes on the forehead, I think of the song, “Beauty Will Rise.” In that song Steven Curtis Chapman sings,

“Out of these ashes… beauty will rise
and we will dance among the ruins
We will see Him with our own eyes
Out of these ashes…beauty will rise
For we know, joy is coming in the morning…
in the morning …This is our hope.
This is the promise.
That it would take our breath away
to see the beauty that’s been made
out of the ashes…”

As we go through this season of Lent, contemplating our sinfulness and our need of a redeemer, let us remember that we do have a Savior who has made us a new creation, and who will one day make all things new.

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Blast From the Past: Problems and Opportunities

This was first published back in 2011. In some ways, I think it’s still timely.

The stock market is on a roller coaster ride. Some economists say the United States is headed for another recession. European nations are in crisis. The U.S. credit rating has been downgraded. Unemployment continues to be a major problem.   Some say the United States is being punished for “turning away from God.” Others say that this is a sure sign of the end. These things may be true or they may not.

I wonder if maybe God is finished with this country as far as blessing it and using it to bless the world. Many see these things as serious problems, and there are some who are even reacting in the same manner as those who put their trust in material things rather than God.   I do believe we may be in for some rough times in this country. What that will mean is left up to far wiser folks than me to figure out. What I do know is that the coming bad times, if they come, will present those who claim to follow Jesus the opportunity to put their money (or their houses, cars, or other possessions) where their mouth is.  

One of the primary things said about about the early church was that there were no poor persons among them. If you remember, this was at a time when there were a whole lot of poor people around the Empire. The followers of Jesus, because they were devoted to Jesus Christ and to each other, were willing to go so far as selling their possessions in order to help those who were in need.

How far are we willing to go?   Are we willing to sell something to give to a fellow Christian who has lost employment? Are we willing to change our routine and patronize a business on order to help a brother or sister in Christ? Are we willing to provide living space for someone who has lost their home? Are we willing to share possessions (clothes, yard tools, cooking utensils, etc.) in order to ease someone’s burden? In short, are we willing to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters?  

A friend said to me that she believed God was telling her that the time was short. While this could refer to the end times, I think that maybe it’s our time as prosperous “American Christians” that is short. I believe that it may not be very long before those of us who claim to follow Jesus will have to put up or shut up. God help us to be found faithful.

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New Year: New Twists and Turns in the Road

2020 was a year that many would like to forget, and 2021 didn’t’ seem to be much better. As the Covid pandemic hit in March 2020, I was in the hospital with a minor heart attack. I recovered completely and made it through the rest of that year and most of 2021. Most, but not all.

First, a bit of background. My father had prostate cancer. Because of that, my family doctor has been keeping an eye on my PSA (Prostate Specific Antigen). In many areas of my life I am just like my father. Well, it turns out that this is one of them. My PSA levels went up to the point that my urologist wanted to have things checked out further. The first step was an MRI, which showed some small spots in one area.

Next came a biopsy, after a couple months wait, which seemed to me to indicate that the doctor was not overly concerned. The biopsy was performed in early December, and the day before my sixty sixth birthday, I was informed that I had joined the club. I was following my father’s footsteps and had prostate cancer. Happy birthday to me. The good news is that it is stage 2; which means it is confined to one certain area.

At the end of 2021, I underwent a bone scan and today I had a CT scan, along with a chest X-ray to check out a spot found on a rib. The spot may be from an old injury. I remember getting kicked in the ribs a few times playing soccer goalkeeper in high school and college. Hopefully that is the case. The CT scan looked good. The next step is to schedule radiation treatment beginning the third week of this month. This should last about two months or so.

I am learning a few things from this. First, I am learning to not take anything for granted, because you never know when things are going to change. I am also learning that good treatment in American healthcare is extremely expensive. Even with excellent insurance, the costs are still very high. I am learning how to empathize with those who have cancer. Hopefully I am learning to trust my heavenly Father and rest in his love for me.

The five year survival rate for this prostate cancer is pretty much 100%. After that, it’s a matter of keeping an eye on things, much like before. The outlook is good and my urologist is pretty positive, so I think I’m going to be okay. So we shall see how the road ahead goes and where this journey is going to take me this year.

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Reminiscing

It was a warm Saturday morning in 2006. The night before, my father had asked me to go with him to Summerville to watch his grandson, my nephew play soccer. After a week of dealing with middle school students, I really wanted to stay home and relax. However, it had only been a little over a month since Mom had died. My dad needed to be able to do this, and he needed me to do the driving. I don’t remember much of the conversation during the trip, except for him telling me that his sister had just passed away and the funeral was that day.

We drove to the soccer field and settled in to watch the game. I think it was a good game. I really don’t remember. We only saw the first half. At halftime, my niece and I headed to the concession stand to get something to drink. Dad had mentioned that he was hot and thirsty. On the way back, we noticed that there was a crowd of people around someone on the sideline where we had been sitting. As we got closer, we realized that the people were crowded around my father, who was on the ground. He was having a heart attack. An ambulance quickly arrived and the EMTs began to try and revive him. After what seemed like an eternity, they put Dad in the ambulance and headed for the emergency room. My sister and I followed.

I don’t remember how long we waited. Everything was a blur. Finally we were informed that the doctors had done everything they could do, but that Dad had died of a heart attack. We were escorted to a room where he lay on a table, and I immediately lost it. I had lost my hero, and in one sense I was now an orphan. I felt a sense of guilt for not really wanting to drive him to the game, and some relief that I had gone and had been with him on his last day in this life. The next few days were a blur, as arrangements needed to be made with a funeral home where my sister lived, the church here where my parents had been members, and the funeral home and cemetery in Maryland, where Dad was to be buried.

All of the arrangements were completed, and we drove to Maryland for a small service in the funeral home, followed by the burial. It was a mild, sunny day, in contrast to the cold rain on the day Mom was laid to rest. At the end of the gravesite service, when the casket was lowered into the ground and the machine was shoveling the dirt into the grave, I remember that my sister and I both thought of Dad peering down from heaven, making sure that the workers did their job correctly.

It’s been fifteen years. Our two children, his grandchildren are married, and I know he would be proud of them. There are four great grandchildren now, and i can imagine the joy he would get out of spending time with them and teasing them with his corny jokes. I’m trying to carry on that tradition, but my efforts pale in comparison. I still miss him. I think about him a lot, especially when I bump my head. I am thankful that I will see both my mom and my dad in the New Creation.

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After 20 Years

September 11, 2001. Some three thousand people awoke that morning, went about their routine, and headed off for their day. None of them had any idea that this day would be their last in this life. I was a teacher and athletic director in a small Christian school , and was in my office listening to the radio. A report broke in to the programming. Evidently, a plane had flown into one of the towers of the World Trade Center in New York City. At the time, no one knew if this was an accident, or deliberate. A short time later news came in of a second plane flying into the second tower. The word “attack” was being uttered. Then the third plane flew into the Pentagon and the unthinkable began to become very real. The United States was under attack. Shortly thereafter, we learned that a fourth plane had been hijacked and that the South Tower had collapsed. At the same time, plans were in motion to take down the fourth plane if it approached Washington, D.C. This proved to be unnecessary because some of the passengers on that flight attacked the hijackers, and the plane ended up crashing into a field in Pennsylvania. Shortly after the fourth plane crashed, the North Tower collapsed. While all this was happening, flights all over the country were grounded in an attempt to prevent future attacks.

I was in a state of shock, as was the nation. All of our might, our prosperity, our sense of safety, seemed to be an illusion. For many days there was concern that something else might happen. There was grief for those who had perished, and for those who had been left behind. There was also a determination to help those who had been injured, and those whose loved ones had been torn from them. In the days to come, the nation was unified as it had been in the last world war. It seemed that there was no longer division between groups or parties. We were all Americans. The nation had been shaken to its core, and as a result turned to God. It seemed as if America might come out of this stronger and better.

Twenty years have passed. I believe that, while we were stronger, better, and more unified at the beginning, America has let all of that slip away. We may be more divided now than at any time in our history. There are groups and individuals who believe, and proclaim that anyone who doesn’t believe the way they do is not a real American. The spirit of helping others and sacrificing for their good has been replaced with a spirit of me first, my rights, my desires. There are those that call for open rebellion, and some even call for a civil war. Some of these folks even call themselves followers of the Prince of Peace!

Many in the church have confused being a Christian with adhering to a particular political viewpoint. The idea of being a citizen of the kingdom of God is forgotten by many, or is pushed to something in the far-off future. Twenty years ago, America had a common enemy from the outside. Today, it seems that the common enemy is each other. If we continue to fight and seek to destroy that enemy, we will destroy ourselves. I hope we can wake up and look for the common ground that helped us through those days after 9/11/2001.

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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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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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One Year Ago

I have seen a lot of articles about remembering the “official” beginning of the pandemic one year ago. It was the start of a year that significantly changed our lives in many ways. Before the Covid virus hit, we could go wherever we wanted and be with friends and family without fear. That changed drastically.

For me personally, March 11, 2020 brought a significant, life changing event. I woke up that morning, and got ready for what I thought would be a normal day. I went to my usual Wednesday morning book discussion time with a couple of friends, then went to my job as a bus driver. At the lunch time, I did my usual workout. Afterward, I felt a little off, with a bit of a headache and just a general blah feeling. I figured I must have pushed myself too hard and didn’t give it another thought.

We had a new driver starting and he drove a group to WalMart to do some grocery shopping, while I rode along. When we arrived, I got off the bus to use the restroom. When I walked in the store I began to feel sick to my stomach and thought that I needed to get to the restroom quick before I lost it or passed out.

To make a long story short, I ended up in the hospital with a heart attack. I had had a couple of episodes earlier, but nothing that seemed overly concerning. I had even passed a stress test with flying colors. Little did I know that the artery hiding in the back of the heart had become 95% blocked and needed attention right away. The doctor put a stent in to keep the artery clear. After three or four visitors came to see me in my room, the hospital was put on lockdown.

I left the hospital after four days, and began the recovery process. I am now completely recovered. I have lost ten pounds, and my blood pressure and cholesterol are down to more normal levels. I feel good and have exceeded my fitness level of a year ago.

The most significant change has been my attitude toward life. I am realizing that I can’t take this life for granted and I am much more appreciative of the things in my life. More than that, I especially am thankful for the people in my life. I have been blessed with a wonderful wife, children and grandchildren, other family, and very good friends.

Facing my own mortatlity and seeing others, including people I know personally, face theirs, has taught me how precious and precarious this life is. It has taught me how completely dependant we all are on the grace of a good God. I have learned to depend on Jesus’ words in Matthew 6:26 about the Father’s care for the birds and how he cares for his children so much more. That is a great comfort and encouragement.

I have no idea what lies around the bend on the back road of life. We all have things we wish wouldn’t happen in our lives and the lives of those we hold dear. I do know that the same God who takes good care of the birds of the air and the beasts of the field, is my loving Father who is going to do what is good and best for me and for those I care about.

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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.