Leper

Starring through the dark portal my eyes sting again
Exhaustion has invaded my mind and travelled my veins
Dark thoughts invade my sanity stirring a cocktail of despair
The shell that used to be me paces in circles unable to eat or think
I am the leper on the street and alone in my stone cold bed
As this dark winter embraces me my heart loses all hope
Lips all around me speak of life, my ears are deaf to their bleating
I am the leper waiting for crumbs to fall from hopes table
Crashing and dying I spill my blood on this page
If I had the strength deep within lays a smoldering rage
But I am the leper again and no ear hears this pain
My body heaves with waves of grief pounding
My head constantly throbs as anguish makes its home
I am the leper again and this stain is on my shirt.
Pieces fall off of me out on the open road
Dogs eat my rotten flesh in the gathering place
What hope lies in this leper’s fate?
Its only when the incarnate One touches me again.

Man I miss you Ryan.

Man I miss you Ryan. I just can’t believe that you are gone. There are days when it seems like everything is the way that it had always been. I go through my day subconsciously believing that real soon you’d come home smelling like pizza and asking me to crack your back. I loved giving you those great big bear hugs, even though in these last few years it was getting harder and harder to reach around you’re broad shoulders to do it. It was during this time of year we would start throwing the football around, talking about if the Lions would ever win anything again, since Barry retired. Or how we would do everything we could to get the TV remote and then crash on the floor after church on Sundays to watch the game, often wrestling around at halftime for control of the couch.

This is a really weird time for me. It’s a special bond that a man has with his children. I know that I won’t do it justice by the words that I birth on this page. Sons and daughters are so different. Daughters steal your heart away on the first hug and never give it back again and sons, well sons, are like a little pieces of you walking around that you hope and pray will “do” life more “right” than you did. I think that is why dads can be hard on their sons when they are growing up. I pray that God gives you many sons and daughters in your life. You need to have a lot of kids, you will be great with them Ryan.

I am so proud of you and I know beyond knowing this is exactly where you need to be, and that this separation isn’t the end of the story, but I still cry for the way it used to be. Tears roll down my face today, because while you were here, I acted like it would never end, never considering these days of separation that are now upon us. I long for your call as I never have before and that is a harsh and sad reality.

“Wherever you are be all there.” Jim Elliot.

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

It’s been a long blogging absence for me and I am going to try and rectify that a bit. As many of you know our oldest son Matthew recently got married and moved out and then nine days after that our youngest son, Ryan, left for two years on the mission field with Operation Mobilization, to be serving on their newest ship the “Logos Hope.” That coupled with a few other changes in my life: My dog died unexpectedly while I was in Mexico, my long-time assistant Emily took a teaching job down in the Detroit area, Peter my friend, and ministry partner is on sabbatical and in a couple of months Matthew and his wife Kenisha are moving to California. This has proved to be quite the season of loss and change for Connie and I. Many moments are filled with warm tears streaming down my face. It’s not like I don’t think that all of the before mentioned things are good, right and salutary (except Samson the mutt dying) they are, and God’s hand was in all of them. It just seems like his hand was on the grenade that blew up in the face of my life. then during a walk a couple of days ago I was meditating on this verse from John:

“In him was life, and that life was the light of men.” John 1:4

color: rgb(153, 153, 0);So that beget the question: where is my source of life really from? I am trusting Jesus in all of these things and I feel pain. I know that God’s hand is in this and I don’t like the separation. I do trust you Lord, help me in my days where that trust is lacking!

Again.

You won’t understand this post without first reading “Gone.”

Continued from previous post….

Saturday I went back to my friends house to pick up a few things that I had left behind. It had been very windy, rainy and plain nasty for a couple of days so I wanted to make sure that I had cleaned up properly. I hadn’t left their house from Thursdays work until 2 am (Friday morning) and being so late I was not in the mood to clean up after losing a hundred dollars and working for 18 hours. As I pulled up to their house Saturday afternoon I parked in the street because their two minivans occupied both of the driveways. They have six children and need both minivans! I got out of my car and thought to myself,
“Well God, I wonder if that hundred bucks is around?”
Not two seconds later, laying in the middle of the lawn, four feet from the side walk, out in plain site, is a folded and wet one hundred dollar bill waiting to be picked up. Unbelievable. I laughed outloud, walked into my friend’s house with a big grin and told them what I had found and they didn’t want to believe it. I had to convince them by showing them the wet bill that God had indeed given back to us after I had frivolously lost it. Through wind and rain and many people venturing down that sidewalk, God gave back. Sure it is nice to have the money, but it is so much better to know that the creator of all things cares for us, even in small things.

“For by him (Jesus Christ) all things were created: things in heaven and things on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities all things were created by him and for him.” Colossians 1:17 NIV (parenthesis added by me) And I would add; He can do whatever he wants with that he has created!

Gone.

Last week I spent some time making good on a promise that I had made a year ago. Friends of mine asked me to experiment on them, well on their counter tops, they wanted cement counter tops and I wanted to learn how to make them. So last Thursday I was able to finally pour the special concrete mixture into the forms that we had built. The cement was really wet and it took 13 hours for it to dry to the point where I could be done finishing the surface. During the waiting period Connie and I went out to dinner and our friends graciously gave us a hundred dollar bill and said for us to go out to dinner wherever we wanted, on them. I tried to say no, but eventually I just thanked them and put the crisp Benjamin in my pocket.

When Connie arrived she brought me a change of clothes because I was filthy from bathing in the concrete throughout the day. I changed, transferring the money, keys and wallet into my pocket and we left. Connie wanted me to drive and I pulled my keys out of my pocket and we left for the restaurant. Halfway through the meal I wondered about the money and I reached into my pocket to reassure myself of its ability to pay for our meal.

It wasn’t there. Not wanting to panic I searched all of my pockets and my wallet to no avail. It was gone. In the back of my mind I had hoped that I had just left it in my other pants and that is what I communicated to Connie. With our debit card we paid for the meal and left.

I searched my pants my friend’s house, the car, the ground outside with a flashlight. I prayed for help to find it. It was gone. I am such an idiot. I told my friends what I had done and that I was sorry for losing their gift to us. I prayed some more, then asking God to forgive me for being careless with His gift to me I asked that he would give it to someone who needed more than we did.

“The Lord gives and the Lord takes away, Blessed be the name of the Lord.”

To Be Continued….

90/2

Many thanks to everyone for the nice birthday wishes, I appreciate the care. But now that I am officially half-way to 90 it seems like I should be better at stuff. The things that matter kind of stuff. Things like loving, kindness, caring, slow to anger and selflessness, you know, important stuff. I do feel that I have made strides, sure but not fast enough, or deep enough for mysmall brain.

My wife is into making cards for people lately, which is really cool, very personal and (bonus) it saves a ton of cash. She left a very personal birthday card on my computer keyboard before she left for work this morning. It said so many nice things that when I read it I felt like there was no way that it was about me. There are way too many days when my inherently evil side is having it’s way with me, again.

I guess that as I aged I naively thought that sin would be less of an issue in my life, but I am afraid it is just as much an issue today as it ever has been, its just as much a battle that demands my every effort. Not that my faith hasn’t grown up some over the 21 years of following Jesus, it has, but I am not where I thought that I would be or think that I should be either.

Then I read from Colossians 1:13-14 “For he has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, 14in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.” Once again reminded that my rescue is not up to me, it is the accomplished work of Jesus and I am simply striving to follow him, at half way to 90 or 190.

Flow.

We like movement. The going-forward type movement is most preferred. We enjoy being on the go, making a run for it, and running the race. We love positive progress. We even attach very negative terms to non-movement: Terms like stagnant, stalled, idle or stuck. None of us desire a stagnant life, a stalled car, an idle friendship, or being stuck at work.

I wonder why. Does the breakneck pace of our lives reveal more about what’s going on, on the inside than the outside? Are we running like crazy people from one appointment to another because on the inside we feel stagnant or stuck and movement, any kind of movement, is better than all of our stuck-ness? Are our souls so devoid of life that we have to run in circles like maniacs flailing our arms just to deaden the dullness of our stagnant inner life? Sadly, today it is counter-cultural to believe that stillness has any benefit, or being idle on purpose is profitable to our core. Instead being super busy is awarded on so many levels, even in our Christ following communities. It’s almost as if we decided somewhere along the line that we must receive merit badges in heaven for how busy we’ve been for “God.” I know someone who attends six different Bible studies a week! SIX! (If you see nothing wrong with this, just close this page and go back to that crazy arm-flailing thing that you were doing)

I am not certain if this is the first time in Christian history that this attitude has been so prevalent, but today, in America, it is at pandemic proportions. The ancients of the faith would be appalled, not at how much we are trying to do in the name of Jesus, but that we are serving water from an empty well and one day soon, someone will point out that there is no water in the glass of water we just handed them.

To Flow-over we must slow down. NOW! Lord help us!