Thursday, June 16, 2022, at approximately 6:22 p.m. another 911 call was made from a church because of an active shooter. This time it was at Saint Stephen’s Episcopal Church in Vestavia Hills, Alabama near Birmingham. A lone individual walked in during a potluck supper and opened fire–3 were shot. One died at the scene and another died at a local hospital. The third victim is recovering. This happened only 54 miles from us, measuring by the way the crow flies. The responsible individual is in police custody. At this writing, no motive has been released by law enforcement officials.
But what about the “motive”? Motive and cause are not the same. In fact, the cause creates the motive. And while we do not yet know the motive behind this horrendous act, the cause is plain to see. Evil! And while attempts are made through legislation to eliminate evil, the root of evil is being ignored. And he loves it this way. Without calling him out by his name, he has free reign of the house. Chaos, ruin, and brokenness lies in the wake of his work. The disciple Peter nailed it in his letter First Peter chapter 5, verse 8:
Stay alert! Watch out for your great enemy, the devil. He prowls around like a roaring lion, looking for someone to devour.
from the New Living Translation
And he has been having a feast in our culture. It’s been an all-you-can-eat buffet for him. But there is something that drives him out of the cafeteria of life and sends him running as fast as he can! I said “something”, but what I mean is some ONE! His name is Jesus. But it takes more than just saying His name “Jesus”! It demands our surrender to Him. One of Jesus’ “half-brothers”, who by the way at first doubted his brother’s claim to be The Messiah, wrote in his letter James chapter 7 verses 7-10:
7 So humble yourselves before God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. 8 Come close to God, and God will come close to you. Wash your hands, you sinners; purify your hearts, for your loyalty is divided between God and the world.9 Let there be tears for what you have done. Let there be sorrow and deep grief. Let there be sadness instead of laughter, and gloom instead of joy. 10 Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will lift you up in honor.
New Living Translation
We cannot agree with what the world tells us and take the hand of God in relationship and friendship. In a world of “selfies” and “pride” Satan continues to feast! But when we humble ourselves before God and place Him as our “above all other things” relationship, Satan goes into the famine stage! Casting Crowns has song called God Of All My Days. And it ends with these lyrics:
In my blindness God, You are my vision And in my bondage God, You are my freedom All my days
Would you like to see Satan denied a plate at this all-you-can-eat buffet? You would? For this to happen it begins with you humbling yourself before God and resisting Satan. Don’t be the Gideon hiding in a winepress threshing wheat–be the Gideon who is greeted by the angel with these words: Mighty Warrior! Gideon became that Mighty Warrior when he walked humbly with his hand in God’s hand.
On Saturday, a young man, filled with hate, thoughtlessly took the lives of 10 people and wounded 3 more in Buffalo, New York. Sunday, as people were enjoying a meal after worshipping God, a man walked in and thoughtlessly took one life and critically injured 4 more people. At a busy flea market in Houston. Texas, 5 young men had an “altercation” and the result was that 2 were dead and 3 were critically wounded. And these were not the only incidents this past weekend. So, I ask again: How long, o people of God?
How long will you choose to turn a blind eye to Satan’s rampant attacks and attack those who have been captured and seduced by Satan rather than fighting the spiritual war that is all around us?
How long will you choose to blame this, that, and the other rather than getting involved with the people in your communities by getting to know them? Love them?
How long will you cry out for Jesus to return rather than helping others see how much they need Jesus by seeing how much YOU need Jesus?
How long will you choose being “comfortable” at “your” church rather than finding ways to relate to the people around your “sacred” building?
How long will you choose to be culturally relevent rather than standing on God’s Word alone, even if you are laughed at?
How long will you be spiritually lethargic rather than seeking the power of the Holy Spirit to fight against Satan and his minions?
How long before you stop quoting 2 Chronicles 7:14 and start BEING a 2 Chronicles 7:14 people?
How long before you earnestly pray for a great awakening and revival in our land?
How long, o people of God, before you start doing these things, and much more? This morning my heart cries and is breaking for all the victims from this weekend, and every other day. I pray that yours is, too! But having our hearts broken and shedding the tears of grief and compassion is not enough. Never has been enough. Never will be enough. God is in the business of redemption–places, situations, cultures, people! His plan is to make this happen through His People! So, I ask you again: How long, o people of God? How long?
Just when you think you’ve gotten over the hump, real life happens! Yesterday morning Debbie and I headed back up to Daddy’s home. I had hoped that the worst of this grief thing was now behind me. It wasn’t. During the two plus hour drive up there, once again just like all the other trips, a heaviness began to come over me. And pulling up, it was just like all the other times. I felt like I was invading his home and plundering his things.
Daddy loved to make a garden, and when he wasn’t any longer able to make a garden he turned his attention to the plants and flowers. We were going to get some of those plants and flowers. Years ago Debbie and I shared some of ours with him and Mother. Now, some of them were going back to our home. And somehow, I feel guilty about digging them up. I made a new flower bed and that is where I will transplant them. And as I watch them grow and bloom, I’ll think about him. And this morning, I’m wondering and thinking, “As I look at them, will this pain grow deeper and will I ever get over it?”
Isn’t that absolutely rediculous to think that I will ever get “over it”? How many people have I ever told that grief isn’t something you get over–it’s something–a journey–that you get through. But never get over! And this morning I find myself wanting to “get over” something that isn’t made to “get over” but something to “get through”. I know that the only thing that is keeping me from totally falling apart is My Heavenly Daddy. In spite of me wanting to “get over” this, He is faithfully and persistently working in me to show and help me in this path of “getting through” my grief.
Today I will begin transplanting those plants that once brought Daddy such great joy. I hope I can watch them with that same joy that he had. Perhaps they will be a means of grace to help me stop wanting to “get over” my grief and enable me to be confident that I will “get through” this season. My verse from The Bible will be this:
I pray that God, the source of hope, will fill you completely with joy and peace because you trust in him. Then you will overflow with confident hope through the power of the Holy Spirit.
Romans chapter 15, verse 13 from The New Living Translation
Well, I made it through Dad’s birthday–it was challenging, but I made it through! I made it through my birthday–another challenging day, but again, I made it through. And this week has been another challenge. Twice a year we come down here to Lake Millsite (Florida) to visit family and friends. I would always call Dad to let him know we made it safely. And then call him every day we were here. And when we arrived here Monday, I couldn’t call him. And once again, here’s that challenge that reminds me of how much I miss him.
God is pulling me through each of these challenges–and to be honest with you (can I be honest with you?)–I don’t like these recurring challenges. I want them to be over–but I still find myself missing Dad. And the pain becomes fresh again, and the loneliness that comes with it–I think I would rather get a root canal without that numbing stuff. Something is missing–someone is missing in my life. But God? He keeps pulling me through these moments. I say pulling because, well, you may find it hard to believe–but I can be stubborn and hard-headed.
I am learning something, in spite of my stubborn side: I can count on God! He gives me a song; sometimes a scripture passage; sometimes a person; sometimes a scene in nature; and always His Presence. And if you are facing a challenge today–you can be assured that God is Present and He is at work in your challenges. My grief is roaring and rolling over me right now. I’m hurting. And I wish I wasn’t. But know what? God is pulling and tugging, tugging and pulling me to help me get through this moment. Our Heavenly Father is a mighty tugger and puller. Count on Him today, tomorrow, and every moment of every day.
When you go through deep waters, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown. When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you.
Isaiah chapter 43, verse 2 (New Living Translation)
This morning I am thinking about yesterday. I know, oh, do I know! As followers of Jesus we’re not to live in the past. But here I am! Honestly I don’t know how people live in the past–be it sad, bad, or even good. But like an old snapping turtle, yesterday has bit me and it’s not about to let go–and it’s painful. So, what has caused this harbinger of Good News to do the very thing he counsels people in hard times not to do? Let me tell you and perhaps it will help me let go.
Yesterday it didn’t rain, so I headed off to Dad’s. There’s still a lot to sort out and make decisions about. No one wanted Dad’s bed, so Debbie and I decided to get it. Tuesday Debbie will have a “foot overhaul”. The bed she and I sleep in is high–his bed is low to the floor. It will be easier for her to get in and out of bed after surgery. There were some other things he wanted us to have still there–so off I went. My truck and trailer headed out, and when I got there, I and a good friend started to work. As we went into his bedroom, I remembered the last time I saw him there. The hospice nurse had changed his clothes and made up that bed–and for the first time in a long time he didn’t look like he was in pain. But I was–I was visually reminded of how life changes. And now there was no bed in HIS bedroom–and what’s a bedroom without a bed?
When we arrived back home, we immediately went to work unloading and moving things around. And last night as I prepared to lie into that bed, it hit me hard. I was sleeping on HIS side of the bed–the same side I last saw him in HIS home. And this morning–Yesterday is doing a number on me–in my heart and mind. Did I sleep good on that bed last night? Sure–but I was physically exhausted. I could have slept good on a floor. And this morning–I am sorting through the morning after. And truthfully, I haven’t done well with it. And as God and I were sorting through this heavy grief, He came to me. Not with answers, but His very Presence.
Has my ache and pain disappeared? Absolutely–NOT! I am just as heartbroken right now as I was Yesterday, and This Morning. The snapping turtle that bit me doesn’t seem to be inclinced to let go of me–if anything, he seems more determined. But I am different–different because God sent me Himself, my very best friend–The Holy Spirit. So, I know that this voracious snapping turtle will release his bite on me–at some point, because he has no choice because I am leaning into and leaning on The Holy Spirit. This moment’s power filled truth came into my heart as I listened to this song. I pray it speaks into you as it is speaking into me–as I deal with Yesterday!
Last Friday Debbie and I went back to Dad’s house. On Saturday, me and his grandkids were going to sit down to begin sorting through some things–in particular, items he left for each of us. I stopped by to get some items from his safe deposit box that would need to be distributed according to his directions. Later on that day I begin looking around for some other things he bequeathed to certain ones. I confess that it felt like I was ransacking his treasures. Walking around and looking, it was difficult and painful. But by Saturday morning, everyone had a “pile” of items he wanted each of us to have.
Everything went very well–no family squabbles. But there were still a lot of items around the house. So I opened it up for everyone to go through and see if there was anything else they might want–especially pictures! Dear Lord, Mother and Dad loved pictures. The ladies found lots of things–and they had their own personal “swap shop” trading this for that. The boys and I went up to Dad’s workshop to look around–boys and their toys! Dad had a lot! We didn’t get through everything–but it was time to eat. And everyone knows you can’t make important decisions on an empty stomach!
They decided where we would go. Frankly, I was too emotionally spent to make another decision. As everyone was gathering up the items they could take with them, our niece, Christa Lynn, walked by me and said, “I feel like we are in an episode of American Pickers!” And what started out as a difficult and painful event turned into something good. There were 3 moments for me.
The first happened when I found an old letter, still in the original envelop from 1959. Dad had gone out of town for some reason–I concluded it must have been related to his work with his union. It was on the hotel stationary and it was about missing and loving his family. The second happened when I found their framed marriage certificate. And Dad had placed a small note in the upper left hand corner that said, “It happened around 10:00 a.m.” The third happened when Debbie noticed an old brief case in the top of a closet. We opened it and it was filled with what we call “clergy information” from all the funerals he had ever presided over. People and memories were important to him–and my personal burden finally let go of me.
And that trip down memory lane ended up being good for me–very good. And maybe you have some special and sacred places that you need to revisit. It may feel like it would be too painful–but feelings do pass. Where are those places for you? When was the last time you went there? When we arrived at Dad’s, I was focused on the pain. When we left to go back home, I was focused on the wonderful memories. It’s amazing and healing how God’s grace turns something painful into something healing–and replaces our tears with a smile on our face.
The human touch–it can be something sad, or it can be comforting. The last few days, it’s been both for me. Dad’s billfold is on our chest of drawers. When I simply reach out to touch it, a deep sadness comes over me–and a few more tears–so I walk away from it. But then I think about all the embraces we received from friends and family after Dad’s death–and I find it comforting. The most powerful touches came to me without any words. At the funeral home before we opened up for friends, our son-in-law Michael came up and just put his hand on my shoulder. He’s been where I was at–and it was amazing the strength that came to me. And he’s just one example.
Yesterday did not end well for us. Last night I received a phone call that one of our very good friends, Max–more like family–had just died. He and his wife Cindy ARE family. And I learned that another icon of the Center Star Community had also died. I went to school with his kids. And right now I simply want to go back there–though the wounds of my own grief are still very fresh–to give my friends the human touch–the way it was shared with me.
But there’s this thing called COVID–the demon has affected and infected all of us here at home. We are in quarantine. In addition to the sickness and death caused by COVID–for the past couple of years, it’s limited the human touch. First, there was the lockdown–and when some of the limitations were lifted–we could only pretend to shake hands. Facemasks and social distancing were–and continue to be–the norm. Honestly, I’m struggling here–drowning even–because I cannot be with our friends, the way they were with us. And then there’s Dad’s billfold.
What’s a person to do? To be touched in kindness or to touch another person in kindness is powerful. When we can’t be there–when they can’t be here–when even an inanimate object feels like we’re in a tsunami of grief–what can we do? How can we cope? I will answer my own question–know that God is touching us! We know this because the Bible tells us so–In Psalm 139, verse 5 (New Century Version) David wrote: “You are all around me—in front and in back—and have put your hand on me.
This Psalm goes on to talk about trying to get away from God’s presence, from His touch. But in every place, God is already there, waiting for us. His touch is the most comforting touch of all–and no pandemic–not even our own sinfulness–will ever prevent Him from reaching out and touching us. I leave you with this picture. It’s from back in the day before cell phones–so there was this thing called long-distance calling. It could be very expensive. But AT&T had an ad campaign to encourage subscribers to make those long-distance phone calls. The ads were something like this:
When we need it–God reaches out and touches us. Not with a phone call, but His very own presence. And Jesus invites us to reach out and touch Him the way He invited the disciples to touch Him after The Resurrection. And when this *%^#*&_)^%^$(@&#%^ pandemic is gone–reach out and literally touch someone because they will need it. Join me in praying for an end to this virus–so that we no longer need social distancing.
How can I say it–what is in both my mind and heart? Where are the words? I’ve been called a lot of things in my life–some of which cannot be posted on this blog. But one thing I remember being called was a “wordsmith”. My Papa Burbank was a blacksmith and Dad told me the amazing things he could do as a blacksmith. But right now, I think I could do better as a blacksmith than a wordsmith at this moment–and I don’t know a thing about being a smithy!
Finding words to say or print usually come fairly easy. But right now, it ain’t so easy! I mean–how can I express all the–call it gratitude, thankfulness, appreciation, beholden–none of these words come close to how I am feeling right now for the outpouring of love, compassion, sympathy, empathy, and kindness shown to me and my family as we grieve the loss of our family patriarch. Even the above slideshow of images for such synonyms doesn’t scratch the surface of how I feel towards each of you.
Searching for and finding the right words is supposed to be the hallmark of a preacher worth their weight in salt. Still, all of the above words do not reveal how I feel towards each of you. I’ve searched every thesaurus in the Wacky World Web–and all of them combined still misses the mark. So, I am left with a word that I believe falls short of what I long to express to each of you. It’s a word that is often casually thrown out there without much emotion. But until some other wordsmith can come up with another word–here it is: Thanks! A simple word, but I say it because of the profound impact each of you has made on me and my family these past few days! Maybe someday when I see you on the other side–I will have the perfect word to tell you how I feel about you. But until that day, know that I am grateful to each of you.
Today I am intimately familiar with this Monday Spirit. This evening we will gather at the Funeral Home where Dad once worked–scratch that–where he shared the love of Christ with so many people. It just so happened he was on their payroll while he was doing that! He helped so many friends and strangers cope with their loss. And now, many of those same people will be there–for us!
Grief is two sides–good and harmful. The good side of Grief is that it gives us the opportunity to remember the love that was experienced. Grief is our way to cleanse our hearts and minds of all the emotions that comes with the death of someone close to us. Think of Grief as a purge–unloading all of that pain. And we have to unload that pain; otherwise it will eat us alive.
Grief also has a harmful side. The deadly side of Grief is when we fail to work through it. Grief isn’t designed nor meant to be a permanent state of life. And when we treat it as though it is permanent–well, Monday and every other day becomes a burden and we miss out on the joy of life. Grief is a part of living–but it’s not all there is to life. Sometimes people want to know why that person was allowed to die. Looking for reasons why prevents Grief from it’s good purpose. Looking for the why will lead you to either a false hope, or worse, it will make you blame God.
Grief has it’s own process. It’s not the same process for every person. And don’t allow anyone to tell you otherwise. Grief isn’t meant to be experienced alone–we need help to navigate the treacherous waters. I’ve been both comforted and amazed at the stories being told now on social media about Dad. Many I knew–many others I am hearing for the first time. I have been comforted by words of wisdom by the Sages in my life. And I have been comforted, strengthened, and held by the hands of my Heavenly Dad! So I can trust the process of Grief to bring me through this season–and it is only a season when we have Him to guide us through.
When we trust God to use our Grief as a process and not a destination, then we can say: “Good! Lord, It’s Monday! What shall we do together?” And here’s the song that The Spirit sent to me this morning in my Worship time!
Ever noticed what comes up when you start to make a post on Facebook?? It’s “What’s On Your Mind”. What’s on my mind this morning is a mish-mash of a lot of stuff. If I had a hot tub, that’s exactly where I would be this morning. But I don’t have one so I settled on an “as hot as I could stand it” tub bath. And it was there I regained some of my missing perspective. And I owe it all to Joel White. I know, how weird is that?
You have to know Joel. He’s my brother from my other set of parents. Joel teaches math–so he’s all about the details. Furthermore, Joel has a very weak filter when to comes to thinking before he speaks. For Joel, thinking and talking are synonymous terms. Yesterday Joel gave me some sound advice filled with wisdom–even stranger, right?! (Just kidding Joel!) Joel told me to NOT think down the road; simply live and accept each moment as it happens.
This morning I woke up thinking ahead–too far ahead–of what needs to be done. So, I’m doing what Joel told me–and it has given back to me what I needed most in this moment–perspective. I’ve remembered all your words of care, compassion, and encouragement. Last night I got a call from a cousin that I haven’t talked to in years. A friend of Daddy’s, another pastor–Ray Lathem–also called last night. I’ve tried to read all of the tributes to Dad on Facebook. All of this put together has helped me focus on Dad’s legacy–and it’s a great one!
So starting this morning–I will live in each moment, one at a time, as they happen. But unlike some of my promises in the past that I broke–this promise I must keep–I WANT to keep. So pray for me that I maintain this course, as Dad taught me by his example. The dam holding back my emotions hasn’t broken–yet–but it’s cracked–and I know what’s coming. But I have Dad’s legacy–your prayers–and The Father’s love, the promises of Jesus, and the strength of the Holy Spirit. These will get me through–of this I am confident.
We’ve been gone on a Sabbatical, and I promised my readers that I would resume writing every day when we got home. We left Lake Millsite, Florida on Tuesday, going home by a “different” route. Soooo, in the immortal words made famous by Jack Nicholson:
Not in quaint and beautiful Mt. Vernon, Alabama. Right now I’m in Center Star, Alabama–in the home Dad had built about 59 years ago. Monday night, my son Matthew called and said they had to take Dad to the emergency room. His oxygen concentration was low. Turns out he was having a severe spell with his A-Fib and had caused his heart to have what is called RVR. (Click here to find out about RVR)
So Tuesday morning we packed up and headed to be with him in the hospital. The good news is they were able to restore normal heart rhythm. No more A-Fib or RVR. The bad news is that he has been diagnosed stenosis of the aortic valve in his heart. That’s when the flaps of the aortic valve become thick and stiff, or they fuse together. These problems cause the valve opening to become narrow. The narrowed valve reduces or blocks blood flow from the heart to the rest of the body. The normal size of an adult aortic valve is around 3.0 to 4.0 cm2. His is now 1 cm2.
Normally, the treatment is to replace the diseased valve, going through the femoral artery. However at 95 years old, he is not a candidate for the procedure. Bad news, right? Well. . .the Good News he is ready to go Home; you know, the Eternal Home where there’s no such thing as A-Fib, RVR, arthritis or any of these aches and pains we experience on this orb known as Earth. He has 2 daughters already there and his wife of 73 years. Best of all, he knows Jesus is there.
Our conversations in the hospital revolved around the best care for him now. We talked about Hospice, and agreed it was time. In case you didn’t know, Hospice isn’t just for when death is imminent. It’s also for cases where death is medically determined to be inevitable because there are no longer viable medical treatment options. So today, Thursday, the twenty-eighth day of October in the year 2021 of our Lord, he and we met all of those who will be involved in his care until the inevitable happens.
Great people! We met his social worker, hospice aide, RN, and his chaplain. I enjoyed meeting all of them, as did Dad! But it was something that his chaplain said that is provoking these thoughts tonight. Garry, that’s his name, said, and listen very carefully: Only God Can Unscramble Eggs. Isn’t this rich!!!
When you make scrambled eggs, the shells are broken–and you can’t put the shells back together–I mean, someone might could try like putting together a jigsaw puzzle. But it ain’t gonna be able to hold anything, much less those innards of the egg. Then the egg whites and the egg yellows are all mixed together–the whites are indistinguishable from the yellows–dear Lord, you can’t separate them back into just the egg whites and egg yellows again. It is impossible, I say, impossible!!!
We just can’t do it! But that is just a small thing for God to do. In fact, He is the only one who can unscramble eggs. And this is why The Holy Spirit used Garry’s words to say something important to me–something I needed to hear.
Right now we are walking through the Valley of the Shadow of death. Dad is still alive, and kicking–and in his own words–“just not very high.” But negotiating the rest of the journey through this Valley, well. . .we need a little help. You may remember back in August we made this journey when my sister died.
And the help we are receiving right now and the help that will be with us as we journey from one end of this Valley all the way to the other end–comes from the only One who can unscramble an egg. With that kind of skill–I reckon we will make it just fine.
My brain operates on a level different from most. Of course you who know me, have heard me preach, and read my thoughts here on this blog have been aware of this for a long time. I offer no excuses or justifications for the way I process my thoughts. I own it! And with all the humility I can muster, I must say that I am quite proud of it. And I’ve discovered that sometimes God actually uses my “unique” ways of thinking. Who woulda thunk it? Certainly not my critics, or even myself most times.
And this morning, I find that it’s amazing how mortality and the death of my sister, have been churning my thoughts. And though I have an advanced affliction of random thoughts, there is nothing random about this line of thought. It hit me on the morning (perhaps the word should be mourning) after my sister’s death as I sat alone on Dad’s front stoop dreading sharing the news of her death with him.
That dark morning around 4:30 a.m. I was hit and hit hard with the names of 3 people. My thoughts about these 3 individuals were not kind; I repeat myself–NOT kind nor gracious. One of them had wounded me over 3 years ago. Honestly, I thought I was over that wound–but it appears I’m not! The other two individuals, their wounds are fresh and still bleeding profusely. And no, these two are not, nor have they ever been, my enemy. But if I was a prolific song writer like David, I could write a scathing imprecatory song about all 3 of them.
And what I am still struggling with (and I ask for your prayers so that I will change my feelings about them) is that…can I be honest with you? To you who just nodded your head in the affirmative, thank you for letting me be real with you. I do not want to forgive them. Yes, this pastor and proclaimer of Grace, is fostering and nurturing one old wound, and two new wounds. I know, I know, that holding tightly onto resentment and grudges as if they were my only friends, serves only to hurt me and open those wounds even more–adding more bleeding and unbearable pain.
And the Holy Spirit led me to this Very Intentional Thought: Who Deserves Forgiveness? Knowing that it’s the enemy who wants me to feel this way doesn’t really help me. One of my theme Bible verses that often describes me is this: “But I need something more! For if I know the law (or as in my case, knowing it’s the enemy polluting my mind with such thoughts) but still can’t keep it, and if the power of sin within me keeps sabotaging my best intentions, I obviously need help! I realize that I don’t have what it takes. I can will it, but I can’t do it. I decide to do good, but I don’t really do it; I decide not to do bad, but then I do it anyway. My decisions, such as they are, don’t result in actions. Something has gone wrong deep within me and gets the better of me every time.” (Romans 7:17-20 The Message; EMPHASIS MINE)
And even this Monday morning, the Intentional Thought—Who Deserves Forgiveness?–is playing in my mind like a kid in a mudhole. And PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, don’t tell me how sorry you are that I’ve been wounded–even by some closest to me. It won’t help me–it will only fuel my resentment and bitterness. And I have reached an answer and come to a conclusion–No one deserves forgiveness! Not these 3! (And here is the bitter pill I am trying to swallow even as I write) NOT EVEN ME!
And if The Spirit hasn’t poked and prodded me enough, yesterday as we headed home, 2 very good friends of ours wanted the four of us to break bread together before we returned. They had come to the visitation and attended the funeral; so how could we decline. In fact, we were looking forward to that sacred meal. Oh, their names are Jim and Grace; yes “Grace” is her real name–and she lives up to that namesake. They are members of the church I previously served–and we have stayed connected as fellow Disciples of Jesus Christ. Their faith and witness are powerful!
In their conversations they mentioned they had recently been to a Revival Service, and one night the preacher, another good friend of mine, was preaching about the very issue I am toiling with–Forgiveness. Mark, my friend and fellow preacher, said that not only are we to forgive those who wound us, but we are also to pray for God to bless them. I knew that The Father arranged this meal without me being aware of it!Sneaky Grace is what I call it! The nerve of my Heavenly Father doing such a thing! He wants ME not only to forgiven them–but to ask HIM to bless THEM!
I don’t know which text Mark used, but right now I am remembering some words of Jesus Himself, words I wished He had never spoken: “But to you who are willing to listen, I say, love your enemies! Do good to those who hate you. Bless those who curse you. Pray for those who hurt you.” (Luke 6:27-28 NLT; EMPHASIS MINE) None of us deserve forgiveness. It doesn’t matter how sanctified, sanctimonious, or goody-two-shoes you are. Yet He forgives and blesses us–and He expects no less from us to the same toward others–when those others deserve neither to be forgiven nor blessed.
Now, if you will excuse me, I have some work to do–I mean–a LOT of work to do on me! Random Thought: I wonder, if there are others out them who are struggling with this same issue?
What’s an apple pie without apples? Or a banana pudding without bananas? Or a meatloaf without meat? The answer? One could say, “It’s not the same.” This is true–but let’s dig a little deeper. The correct answer is: “They are not!” Without apples, it’s not an apple pie! Without bananas, it’s not banana pudding. Without meat, it’s not meatloaf. What’s my point this morning, other than making you crave these and other foods?
Love without the corresponding actions is an apple pie without apples. BUT…when we love in ways that touch another human heart with kindness, care, and concern–it puts the apples back into the pie; the bananas back into the banana pudding; and puts the meat back into meatloaf. John had something to say about this: “My dear children, let’s not just talk about love; let’s practice real love. This is the only way we’ll know we’re living truly, living in God’s reality. “ (1 John 3:18 The Message)
This week I have been reminded in powerful ways the value of love when others (as The Message puts it:) Practice Real Love! This morning we are packing our bags to go back to my childhood home as we prepare for my sister’s visitation and funeral–and to help share the burden of my Dad–who shared my burdens when I was hurting.
And I am once again overwhelmed with the love of others. Your prayers, comments, messages and phone calls–are powerful means of God’s grace in my life in a season when I am needing them most. There are a few who haven’t reached out to me that I thought would–and it only adds to my pain. But to you who are reaching out, who are practicing real love–are helping ease that pain and hurt as well. And until that day we are all in The Eternal Kingdom–you will never know how much YOU are helping me in this season.
PS: I will be taking a couple of days off from blogging. And in the immortal words of General Douglas McArthur, “I shall return!” And it’s because of those who practice real love.
This morning I do not feel like writing. The above picture barely scratches the surface of how I am feeling. It’s all kinda knotty and strewn everywhere. It’s a tangled mess–and I really don’t feel like writing this morning–but I must! (There’s another blog idea in that statement somewhere–doing what we must do when we don’t feel like it. But that’s for another time–not this morning.)
In case you haven’t been following this most recent saga in my life, yesterday morning my sister joined my Mother in Heaven. Huh, amazing how it is difficult to say “died”. We use softer terms like: “passed away”, “is no longer with us”, “has gone home”, “left the bonds of this world”, or “is now at peace”. Truth is, Jackie died. I know, that sounds so stark–so feelingless and obtuse. But Truth is often blunt.
It happened sometime around 3:30 a.m. I spend the night with Dad Tuesday and I wasn’t going to wake Dad up with that kind of news. He was resting well, and I knew that for the next few days, resting well would not likely happen. When he did get up, I shared the news. We cried a bit, had breakfast together and prayed together. After making sure other family members were going to check on him, I started my little over 2 hour journey back to my home. I had forgotten my medications (and please, no comments about my “medications” from the peanut gallery–see I still have a warped sense of humor!).
I pulled out onto the highway, but before I did, I pulled out my phone, connected it to the speaker system in our vehicle, opened up the K-Love app to listen to music. Music is one of my solaces–and helps me stay focused. On about the second or third song–God overwhelmed me with the reminder of His faithful presence–and His healing. Whoever set up the music to be played yesterday morning did not know me, or my deep, deep needs. But God did–and The Spirit made sure I heard this song at just that exact moment. Who but God, can see like that! It is a mystery–a mystery I live within each day. Here’s song. Hope it relates to you in what you are facing.
that my words could be recorded. Oh,
that they could be inscribed on a monument, 24 carved with an
iron chisel and filled with lead, engraved forever in the rock.
25 “But as for me, I know that my Redeemer lives, and He will stand upon
the earth at last. 26 And
after my body has decayed,
yet in my body I will see God! 27 I will see him for myself.
Yes, I will see him with my own eyes. I am overwhelmed at the thought!
As we conclude our D-Day
Series, I hope that there have been some hearts that have been
tugged. Maybe a few cheeks are a little
wet. Many of you have expressed
appreciate for tackling this series because…well…because you have been invaded
by 1 or more these D-Days.
I promised you that what I would share, would come out
of my own experiences. And this has been
true, up until today. This is a D-Day Invasion I Haven’t Had—But I Know That One Day I Will.
Today we aren’t talking so much about the difficulty
of death but of the hope we can have here in this life, as we know Christ—the
hope that invades our lives. Even when
loved ones die after a long life, or those who have had their lives cut way to
short, there is this thing called Peace
that only comes through our Heavenly Father.
Even though there may be sadness of a recent death of
someone in your life, my hope is that you will leave with a song of praise in
your heart because you know where real hope and peace come from. Listen to these names, and let me ask you a
question. All of the names have
something in common. Try to figure it
Apostle Paul: Greatest missionary to have ever lived! Adolph
Hitler: Ruthless dictator and slaughterer of millions. Mother
Teresa: Sweet nun and caretaker of the world’s poor. General
George Patton: Great WW2 Leader.
Mary, The Mother Of Jesus:
Enough said. Moses: Great leader of Israel; Elvis Presley: King of Rock and
Earnhardt: The Intimidator of racing. Princess
Diana: Royalty and compassion filled her life and her calling. Ted
Williams: One the greatest baseball players ever. Todd
Beamer: Average guy on Flight 93.
Do you have it in your mind? What do all of these famous & infamous
people have in common? They have all
experienced the D-Day invasion of Death!
They have experienced it and some have mourned their death. They died because of natural causes,
accidents, war, disease, tragedy—but all died.
Death—it’s the great equalizer.
It’s not a respecter of persons. It doesn’t matter how wealthy or poor you
are, educated or uneducated, death is something that all of us will have to
face one day.
No matter how common death is, when you lose a loved
one, especially a child, I am not sure that there is any way to ever fully prepare
for that. I am not going to attempt to
do that today. I think when death comes
to those who had a lot of life in front of them; it’s just a hard and difficult
thing. Death of a loved one can’t be
shrugged off. But Death is not the enemy
of the survivor’s soul.
We can get through this D-Day invasion of death. More importantly today, as we talk about the
death of someone close and our own destiny with death, we can be prepared. It doesn’t matter what age a person is, one
day you will experience the D-Day invasion of death and you can prepare and
understand how to survive in this thing called death.
I want to talk about how we can survive but also, more
importantly for each individual that you would understand that one day you are
going to die. Are you prepared for
death? It may be that some of you here
today, you’re sitting right here and you have no assurance of a future hope
after this life is over.
If some were to be honest with themselves, they would say,
“I do not understand eternity. I do not understand where I will spend
eternity when I die.”
I think all of us in our hearts understand that there
is an eternity. For many of us here, if
your life was really dealt a death blow of a loved one, it would really cripple
us. We wouldn’t know where our hope would
How can you and I survive the agony of losing a loved
one? How can we know we will survive our
own death? It Almost Sounds Like An Oxymoron—Surviving Death. But after death, there is eternity to be
I want you to turn to John 14, read it, listen to
it. I’m going to build on what Job had
to say about death.
1. Believe In God’s Way!
“Don’t let your hearts be troubled…”
John 14:1a (NLT)
That word, Troubled—it means “to agitate”. It means to take away our calm and
peace. Think about an agitator in a
washing machine. It stirs everything
up—sometimes twisting and tying clothes in a knot. That’s what the thought of death does to us
when we are confronted with our mortality—without that relationship with God.
The best way to deal with death of a loved or to
understand our own mortality is to trust in God—to believe in God’s way. Somewhere in your life you will have to
recognize that God is the Almighty Creator and He is ultimately in control of
our lives and the whole world. None of you
are here on this day for this message by accident.
He Also Has An Ultimate Purpose For Our Lives. Do you know
what that purpose is? Boil it all
down—you are the loving creation of our great God. To believe in God’s way is to understand that
He loves you unconditionally and He wants to have a relationship with you. This one little simple truth brings hope
because it means we have a loving God who desires a relationship even with
us! When things are going so well, we
see this world and think, “This is it!
Nothing could get better.”
But God says, “Believe
In My Way. This Is Only A Glimpse Of
Paradise. Are You Enjoying This
Life? I Have Set Aside, For Those Who
Believe In Me As Their God, A Place Called Paradise!” Paradise is the place promised the thief on
the cross, and it means “garden”—it’s the same word to describe the place where
Adam & Eve were before the fall—that beautiful place of relationship with
Father, Son and Spirit.
God’s way for you and for me is to know true peace and
hope through a personal relationship with God.
To be in a loving relationship with him made possible by the death of
his son, Jesus Christ! That day, the
Creator died for His creation. Second,
2. Trust Your Life To Jesus!
“Trust in God, and trust also in Me. 2 There is more than enough room in My Father’s home. If this were not so, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you?”
God loves us so much that He came to earth as
Emmanuel, God with us. God came and
walked among us so that He could die for us.
Isn’t that amazing? Our creator
God came to die for us. Listen to this—In John 14:6 when Jesus
says about himself:
“I Am The Way, The Truth, And
The Life. No One Can Come To The Father Except Through Me.”
To be able to reach the Father, we have to acknowledge
our sin, acknowledge our inability to get rid of it and stop being controlled
by sin. The ONLY way this happens is by
giving our life to Jesus—trusting our life to Jesus. We can give up on God—but God never gives up
When We Say YES To Jesus, God Gives
Us Eternal Life, Not Because We’re Good, But Because GOD IS GOOD! We can work
through our grief when we lose someone close, because if they said YES to
Jesus, we will see them again! And if
they haven’t? We have Jesus living
inside us through the Spirit to help us through our grief.
3. Rest In God’s Presence In You, The Holy Spirit!
“But when the Father sends the Advocate as My representative—that is, the Holy Spirit—He will teach you everything and will remind you of everything I have told you.”
John 14:26 (NLT)
All through the New Testament, the Bible uses
different words for the Holy Spirit.
Sometimes He is called The
Counselor Who Guides Us With The Wisdom Of Eternity. He’s the person who helps us understand. He is also the Great Comforter that Gives Peace And Hope. He holds us close to His heart to protect us
from the pain and despair from this broken world we live in.
Let me ask you another question. It has to be a question that you take to
heart. When Death Comes To Invade Your Life, Will You Know Peace Or Will
You Know Mayhem? Where does
your hope come from? Does it come from
your bank account, your job, your family, your country? Those things will all be gone when you’re
gone. What about eternal hope? What about eternal peace? Where does it come from?
Throughout this series, I have shared with you how to
survive some D-Day invasions — disillusionment, defeat, divorce and
depression. All of what we said this
whole series hinges on Your Personal Relationship With God.
Let me be very clear, for anyone who has never given their
life to God, why not right now, simply Put Your Hand In His Hands.
That’s all, but it makes a world of difference in your
life now, and an eternity of difference in your life after death.
Are you struggling with fresh grief? Are you at war with old grief, grief that
just won’t go away? Jesus understands
this and has something for you. It is
what Jesus said and did for the Disciples after The Resurrection. In John
20:21-22 Jesus says: “Again he said, ‘Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I am sending
you.’ Then he breathed on them and said,
‘Receive the Holy Spirit’.”
Death, Make Sure You Are In A Relationship with God—not with what you know
Until You Die To Start Living.
we know how Life Conquers Death, and we know how To Start Living Now at the
sacramental table we call Holy Communion.
Here we see and taste that His Death defeats Death in Us Now—and when
that moment comes—His Resurrection defeats our death.
Welcome to Jeopardy, Randy. “Thanks, Alex, I’ll take Chaos and Stress for $1,000.” And the answer is: “This picture is what it feels like.”
Yes, Randy: “What is the feeling you have when the moving truck will be here in 2 days?” Correct!
Well, today started like usual. Packing some more, taking some more to the curb, headed to the office, and the Funeral. Debbie and I had visited Wynette in the hospital the day before she conquered death. Watching her struggle to breathe reminded that about a month ago I watched my own Mother struggle to breathe. God was faithful, not that I doubted Him, especially in a time such as this, and He gave me words to share with her Family and Friends that both honored her memory, her life and The Good News. A trifecta, if you would. The graveside portion was about an hour and a half away.
Then I returned to the church for one last team meeting before we leave. It was the Finance Team. Within my first year here, I was confronted with the fact that the accounting system was, well, what’s a word that I could use in a Christian blog? Chaotic to the Nth degree. Nothing illegal mind you, just poor accounting practices. Nothing balanced and I promised the Finance Team that before I left, everything would be in order and balanced. Thanks to my Office Manager, Samantha, she brought in a friend who loves accounting, loves numbers, loves problem solving (though I think this episode may have broken her from wanting to solve problems). Jennifer committed and donated her time and skills for the past 6 months. She managed to balance 2017, and set up a new system so they could say goodbye and good riddance to a system called Shelby and a new and easier to understand system (ACS) is up and running CORRECTLY. I kept my promise. I didn’t promise I would solve the problem, but would get the problem corrected! Thank you Samantha and Jennifer. After the meeting, I said goodbye to Samantha, who is more than a staff member, and she informed me I was like a big brother to her. These words coming from an only child–priceless. Samantha, you are like the younger sister I never had! I wish I could get rid of my older sister and have Dad adopt you.
So, what have I learned today? I’m so glad you asked:
Keeping your word is important. Whether it is to a congregation, at work, with family, your neighbors, or even a stranger, keeping your word matters. In this era, words of promise are casually thrown around, such as, “Oh yes, I’ll pray for you.”, only to never mention it in your prayers to God. Well, maybe once. When I make a promise, that is the same thing as making a commitment. It’s true for you, too.
There’s always “stuff” that needs to be thrown away in our hearts. Tonight I made more trips to the curb because tomorrow is pick-up. I did not want to leave anything on the curb for my replacement. And I didn’t want to just leave it here for someone else to deal with. Cleaning out, or in a more biblical image, purifying the heart isn’t a one time thing. And it’s more than a thing to do every 4 or 5 years. Guard you heart from collecting stuff–stuff that doesn’t matter to the Kingdom of God–and matters even less to Jesus.
People matter and need to be appreciated–TOLD they are appreciated. What else can I say about this? Nothing! If you can’t understand this….you are seriously messed up.
Even in dark times–there is still Good News! Less than a month after Mother’s funeral, I would have had a good excuse to say no, or just put in a minimal effort into today. But Jesus did not give his minimal effort for me, and it was infinitely more difficult for Him to do what He did, that what I was called upon to do. The result was exactly what God promises–that good comes out of evil–for a time I forgot my own grief and God used my tears to bring hope to others. Our circumstances do not dictate whether or not it is a time for the Good News. Any time, especially dark times, is the perfect time for the truth that there is Good News. Seems like that there’s a story in the Bible about the best news ever coming from a cemetery.
Well, it’s time to take my medicines, and hopefully sleep all night. Now that would be great! But if I don’t….God has this, and He has me! Good night, John Boy.
Well, Day 2 has come to an end in this adventure of preparing for the move. Today I preached my final message at this church. It was indeed a mixture of great joy and sadness. Hugs were everywhere–tears offered and tears fought back. Over these many years of preaching, the Spirit always challenges me and inspires me to speak about the future. Since at least 1984, the passage was always John 2–Jesus turning the water into wine. This miraculous sign tells us that the best is yet to come when we keep our focus on our purpose.
This year it was the Luke 7 passage about that “sinful” woman. I couldn’t figure it out, but the Spirit finally got through my thick skull. I challenged them with this question: “What do you do with broken people?” The future of any church is hopeful and bright when we deal with broken people the way Jesus dealt with this “sinful” woman. Maybe I will post that message here some day.
At the end of the service, there were more tears–a faithful follower of Jesus and a great friend had just died after an extended illness. I grieve her loss because she was an encourager in my life. So now, we are planning a funeral probably Wednesday.
And being Father’s Day, I heard from all my children and grandchildren today. And I was thankful to be able to call Dad to say “Happy Father’s Day” to him. It was just about a month ago when I said my last “Happy Mother’s Day” to Mother. It was the last time she knew who I was–so even more gratitude from me. Oh, one more thing, one of our friends and his family took us out to eat, and shared a great time around a table.
So, what have I learned at the end of Day 2? So glad you asked me:
Life and death still happen as we make our various journeys through life. At the early service I was blessed to perform an infant baptism service. And at the close of the second service, I was confronted with grief with the death of Wynette. In the midst of changes, everyday things still happen.
I learned that God moves in different ways at different times. He wouldn’t let me preach my standard “farewell” message. Instead, He had a timely and timeless message. I have to be more careful when I start thinking that God moves the same way and does the same thing every time. God loves to surprise us.
And I learned today the value of friendships. It is our friends that are holding us up at this time. It is my Band of Brothers that has my back and will fight for me against The Enemy. And time around the table, with a meal, is a sacred and holy time that should be cherished and like it says on shampoo bottles: “Lather, Rinse, and Repeat”–especially that part about repeat. The food where we ate is noted for being excellent–but somehow it tasted even better because we shared that time with Dennis and his wonderful family.
I didn’t sleep well at all last night. I don’t know if it was the “Last Sunday” jitters or dread. But I know God has been with us throughout this day–and He will be with us again, tomorrow.
I’m back to a time and place where I can write again. Wednesday, May 23 at 6:30 p.m. my Mother went home completely healed of her vascular dementia. Over the past few months I watched a godly woman suffer. In the last 2 weeks I watched her suffering intensify. My prayers, and the prayers of many more, were for her to be released from her suffering. On Tuesday Hospice told us it was only a matter of days. My Dad refused to leave her side at the nursing home, so that night I stayed with him. My wife Debbie came to relieve me Wednesday morning so I could go home a catch a nap. She called me just a couple of hours later saying I needed to come back.
Surrounded by family, telling her it was OK to go home, her breath left her body and her soul was embraced by the One who had embraced her for nearly 90 years. This picture was from 23 years ago at their 50th Wedding Anniversary. They renewed their wedding vows and it was my honor and great joy to preside over that ceremony. I had already been grieving for Mother and grieving more for Dad. We went to his home that evening to make ready for the funeral. I am still amazed at the great strength he has even at 92. But then, I shouldn’t be amazed because he is a man of great faith.
Earlier in that week my daughter, Leslie Faith, called. She and her family were about to leave on a family cruise. They had purchased this family vacation 2 years earlier and did not purchase the “insurance” in case something like this happened. She asked me, and Dad, her Pappaw, if we would be OK with them still going. Of course we both said “Yes” because family time was important to Mother. Leslie called me back and asked if it would be OK if she wrote a letter to be read at Mother’s funeral. Being a writer myself, I was all over that and gave her my blessings.
This morning, I want to share with you what she wrote, and was read at Mother’s funeral yesterday. I am proud of Leslie Faith’s gift of writing and would like to think maybe she got this from me. By the way, we call her Leslie Faith because my Dad and Mother had another child named Marilyn Faith. She would have been the oldest, had she lived. The name “Faith” was special to Mother. Here are words that were formed by the example and teachings of my Mother to us all:
In a way this is one of the easiest letters I’ve ever written and in a way it’s one of the hardest. Finding the words to sum up the life of Helen Irene Gautney Burbank isn’t the easiest of tasks. She was a loving and devoted daughter, sister, wife, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother and friend. Her love and loyalty knew no bounds. She led what many today would consider a simplistic life, but she was fulfilled and knew a joy that eludes so many people today.
Mammaw would be the first to say she was far from perfect. She was an avid collector of things (yes that’s the nice way of saying she was somewhat of a hoarder) and she worried about everyone else so they didn’t have to. She kept things that most people wouldn’t – be it a drawing on a bulletin from one of the grandkids or some trinket present one of the kids gave her for Christmas when they were little. They may have been knickknacks or even junk to someone else, but they were treasures to her. And for reasons that pass all understanding, she could not smile in a picture, although she smiled all the time in real life.
Although Randy and Jacque might try to disagree for reasons unknown to the rest of us, she spoiled her children. The grandchildren know we were spoiled. She encouraged our imagination – who knew that old medicine bottles, wooden swords and capes made from old fabrics could create hundreds of countless hours of fun? She taught me how to play Rummy and Dominoes. She tried to teach me how to crochet – if only I had her patience. She made us clothes when we were little. She introduced me to Madame Alexander Dolls and the yearly Christmas bears. There were our Christmas stockings every year. And what did we want in them? The latest toys or money? Nope! We wanted the oldest jar of pickles she had. We wanted the homemade hot sauce. We wanted the butter beans. The chicken stew. We wanted what she and Pawpaw made and had made with love.
She was firm in her faith and she loved the Lord her God. She loved her family. Unconditionally. Without fail. She always looked for the good in people and she refused to see anything but the best in those around her. If one of us made a mistake, she was the first one to say, “Well, that’s alright! I know you’ll do better next time!” And she honestly believed that we were capable of doing better and we would do better. She never let the disappointment she might have felt in any of us overshadow her love for us. Love, loyalty and faith weren’t just words to Helen Irene. They were a way of life. The only way to live life. She didn’t let the loss of her first child define her or break her. Yes she was heartbroken about losing Marilyn, even when she talked about it all these years later. But she continued to make a life for her family. And she made sure we all knew about Marilyn – that Marilyn lived on through the rest of us. And just as I am sure about her love for her family, I am sure that she is now rejoicing to be reunited with Marilyn and Mamma Gautney and so many of her loved ones that have been waiting on her.
The selfish part of me is sad that she’s gone from this earth. The selfish part of me misses her already. I miss the meals we had together (especially her mashed potatoes) because no one could cook like her. It’s something about a homemade meal made with love that you just can’t duplicate no matter how hard you try. I miss her phone calls. I miss her laugh. I miss her calling me “Tinker Bug” or “Mammaw’s Little Angel”. I miss her. But that’s the selfish part of me. The rest of me know she’s so much better off. That she more than earned the reward that awaited on the other side of Heaven’s gate.
I have struggled with the possibility of not being there for her funeral. She was always there for me – made time for me no matter what. She never once told me she was too busy and to come back later. But then I think about what she always told me about family. About how family is there for you no matter what and that you should always take the opportunity to make memories with them. I have 37 years of great memories with my Mammaw Burbank. I pray I am making memories with my family now – memories she would be proud to share with me. I pray I am doing what she would want me to do – what she would do in my shoes. I pray that I am honoring her memory in a way that she would want. I pray that as I grow I become more like her. That I have her faith and her ability to see the good in people. That I give more second chances and forgiveness. That I create loving and happy memories with those closest to me. That I always put God and family first.
Mammaw always said that she led a blessed life, but I think she underestimated how much of a blessing she was to the rest of us. I know that I was deeply loved by Helen Irene Burbank and I know that she knew I deeply loved her. She always saw the best in me, so maybe that’s why I always saw the best in her. I may never be the “collector” she was or the cook that she was (although I do think I’ve got Jacque beaten by a country mile), I do hope and pray that I love my family like she loved hers. That I am the example to my family like she was to me. That I have her ability to forgive, to see goodness in people and to not be hardened by the trials of this world. I hope I can follow the example she set. I hope that my Pawpaw can look at me and see just a little bit of her in me. I hope as we can all look at ourselves and see just a little bit of Helen Irene and realize how better off we all are because of it.
“He was despised and rejected—a man of sorrows, acquainted with deepest grief.” Isaiah 53:3
Grief is another of the tools of the trade used by our Enemy to make us dread another week, another day, even another minute. Our source of grief can be the death of a family member or friend. Just yesterday we found out our family doctor’s wife died after a lengthy battle with cancer. Dr. Wampler is more than our doctor. I consider him a friend.
And if it isn’t death that causes us to grieve, then it is the ordinary “stuff” of every day life. The loss of a job, a home, a marriage, a friendship. And if that isn’t enough to make us grieve, then there is the news—the heartaches and tragedies we see in the news. Without some comfort and relief, grief drains us of peace, hope, and even our purpose in life.
And so, we have these words from Isaiah. Did you catch the last two words? Deepest Grief! Not to minimize our griefs, He has experienced deepest griefs. His is deepest griefs not by comparison to our griefs, but because He takes into the deepest part of His heart, our griefs. All our griefs, all of everyone’s griefs. And He does this for only one reason: He Loves Us Completely And Unconditionally.
God hears our cries this morning. We can cry to Him because He has felt, feels now, and will always feel the pain of grief. We need to turn our grief over and release it to His grace and compassionate love. For it is His heart—His love that always reaches out to us, to heal us and make us whole. We need deliverance from the easy thing of pointing out the symptoms of what we think causes our griefs.
All we need to do is tell Him. Tell Him honestly everything you feel. Even if—especially when you are angry and blame Him. Then simply lean on Him and listen—listen as He pulls you against His chest, so close you can heart His heartbeat—the heartbeat that is for you. Then He will begin to heal your broken heart and bring back the peace, hope and purpose that you thought was long gone. He went the distance for your heart—all the way to the Cross. Then He went the distance to reclaim your heart—to that tomb and then He walked out of that tomb in victory!
When you know He feels the deepest grief—your grief—and remember that He does it for you out of deepest love—and will restore your heart, then you can say, “Good! Lord it’s Monday! What shall we do together this week?” Let’s pray:
Lord here is why I am grieving……..(put your list of griefs here)…… It hurts and honestly, I wonder where is the hope? Where is that peace? How can I go on? I share my questions with you because You know deepest grief. I trust You now to lead me out of my grief. You walked to the Cross and walked away from the Tomb. I know you will do the same for me. Even if I don’t see how….I know you see the way. Amen and Amen…
This week, the week of Christmas, has amplified my own “season of our discomfort” in the journey of life for myself and my wife Debbie. A sneak peak of what this week would be like came last Monday evening, 18 December, when I received a call that my Mother had fallen, again and was at the emergency room. This time she had a fractured elbow and it would take surgery to repair it. Surgery would be scheduled on Wednesday, 27 December. But Sunday, Christmas Eve, I had terrible sinuses and a sore throat. I had to preach at the morning worship service and again that evening for the Candlelight and Communion Service at 5:00 pm. After the morning service, I went to one of those “doc in a box” places with my request: a shot of antibiotics, a shot of steroids, and one of those prednisone dose packs. That’s always worked in the past. But after a swab, I was informed I had the flu, Type A. No candlelight and communion, no Christmas morning with all my family (first one I wasn’t present in 61 years). No being there for my Mother’s surgery.
On Wednesday morning the surgeon was able to repair my Mother’s elbow, but we received some very sad news that same day. Our good friend, my brother in Christ, Eddie Phillips, life on this earth ended far sooner than I had hoped or wanted. When Eddie was diagnosed with cancer he started writing a blog he called My Journey Up The Mountain. I re-blogged his posts and encouraged you, my readers, to take some time to read about Eddie’s journey, but also his deep faith and profound wisdom.
I’ve often heard it said that many people who are facing their own mortality, live life with a richness that, well, that we all need to embrace every moment of every day. Eddie’s thoughts–thoughts that came from him facing terminal cancer, have touched and continue to touch my life now. I miss Eddie. I miss his writing. I miss his friendship. I miss his encouragement. I miss seeing Jesus through Eddie, because in so much of my world, there is more “world” than “Jesus”. I could always count on seeing Jesus in Eddie.
So, this Saturday, Debbie and I will go to the “Celebration of the Life of Eddie Phillips” and love on his wonderful wife and our friend, Sherrie and their children and family. I prayed hard for Eddie’s healing; I mean REAL HARD. And right now, I miss my friend, my encourager, my spiritual brother. I need so much more of that wisdom and insights for my journey. But his journey up the mountain is completed.
But can I be honest with all of you? I do not like it. I do not like what is happening around me. I am crushed and broken beyond words. Tonight I was about to be really angry with God, I mean out loud angry with God. All week I’ve been feeling hurt, broken, and a ton of other junk (including angry with God–and some others). And now Eddie is gone. And just when I was about to shout it out at God in and with that anger–great anger, I remembered something. I heard a question: “Do you remember how you close out the graveside services of followers of Jesus?” There wasn’t a human being in the room I was in.
I stopped and said, “Well, of course. I walk up to the head of the casket, place my hand on it and say, ‘Jesus said I Am the Resurrection and the Life.’ And now in full confidence of the hope of the Risen Savior, we do not say goodbye, but until then my friend, until then.” So, I came to terms with myself, and said goodbye to Eddie. And on Saturday, I will look at his casket and remember that Jesus is The Resurrection and the Life. And I will say, “Until then, Eddie, until that day.” But I still miss you.
Oh, that each of us could live by what Eddie taught us in his brief season of writing. I just now remembered a country song, “Live Like You Were Dying”. It is just a song with lyrics and melody, but a powerful message. My friend Eddie made it more than a song, it was his life, his faith and is his legacy. Thanks Eddie, but I will miss you.
I’m taking a break from this Radical series because I have some issues. Not the ones those who know me may think I have, but I have a real issue with a phrase that is most inappropriate to me. And if you want to think, “Well that’s your problem”, go right ahead, if it makes you feel better about yourself. I am not changing my feelings right now. It’s about the phrase “Happy Memorial Day”!
When I looked up that word on dictionary.com it only adds to my issues about this phrase. According to the website it means: “delighted, pleased, or glad, as over a particular thing”. Can you now feel a sense of my righteous indignation? I mean, businesses have flood the advertising world with big banners over their sale prices, “Happy Memorial Day”! Happy New Year, Happy Birthday, Happy Mothers Day, Happy Fathers Day, Happy Fourth of July, Happy Thanksgiving, Happy Christmas (I won’t say the word ‘holidays) are all appropriate. Not so with this day, Memorial Day.
Instead of using the word “Happy”, use the definition and it sounds like this: “Delighted, Pleased, or Glad You Lost A Family Member, Friend Or Fellow Soldier In Combat.” Someone reading this just thought, “Wait a minute Radical Kingdom Pastor, that’s not what I mean when I say Happy Memorial Day!” BUT, if words having meanings, and they do, then this is exactly what you are saying. Because words DO have meaning, this is why I refuse to say, I can’t even write it down any more. It makes me nauseated.
Part of my nausea from hearing that phrase comes from some of my life experiences. I am the very proud Father and Father-In-Law of 2 combat veterans. Each time they were deployed (one time they were both deployed in Iraq at the same time) I lived with the fear that a car would pull up in my driveway and a fine dressed soldier would step out of it and walk to our front door. I still remember to this day that Saturday morning when my phone rang. It was my son calling from Iraq and his first words were “Dad, I’m OK.” I immediately knew something was wrong. His Humvee had been hit by an IED, but he was OK. But for many other families, friends, and fellow soldiers, everything was NOT OK. What was my fear, is now their daily reality.
And if someone who is reading these words has lost a family member, friend or fellow soldier-in-arms, please know that even though I do not know your pain, my heart does ache for you. And on this MEMORIAL DAY, and every day, I live with gratitude for the freedoms I enjoy because of their sacrifice. And even more so on this day, I pray for your comfort and for God to continue to give you the strength to get through another day. You will never get over your loss, but with God’s grace, you will get through those tough moments when you miss them so very much.
I do have a wish, I call it a High Hope, that Democrats and Republicans would take this day to remember that this nation is much more than your egos and personal ideologies. Remember that your comfort has been made possible only, I said ONLY because of the sacrifices of those we are called to remember this day. And to all the news media people, YOU are not the protectors of liberty, but are protected by the blood of those who gave it all, and to all who gave some. News people, just get over yourselves and know your place in all this we call the U.S. of A.
And to all you Churchians, Tenured Pew Sitters and Protectors Of Religion–YOU need to remember that your spiritual freedom also came with a price and that price included blood. Not just any blood, but the blood of Jesus, who became human just like us. Remember that for HIM to become one of us, He freely GAVE UP His divine nature. And you want to complain about YOUR stuff? Wanting things YOUR way? You really want to whine that things are not like they were in 1960 or 1970 when there are so many who need what only the Good News of the Kingdom can deliver? Shame on you, shame on you, SHAME ON YOU!
This day should remind us that to live a life that is both meaningful and worthwhile we need to live the way these heroes died and the way Jesus died! Stop being so selfish and petty. For heaven’s sake get over yourselves. Today is Memorial Day–remember and live with deeper purpose and gratitude. I invite to you view this link to a video titled “Signs And Numbers”. It’s a few years old and the numbers are even larger, but the message remains the same.
Love God with all your heart. Love others the way Jesus loves you. And make sure all the glory goes to Him.