We who silently grieve

13 11 2015

SHE MEANT NO HARM

Undesired chores emerge when tending to a loved one’s death. I call to close her cell phone number, and when asked to explain the reason, I speak around the lump in my throat that my wife is deceased. Okay, she says, let me take care of that change for you. She meant no harm by her efficiency.

I go to the bank to remove my wife’s name from an account. The officer asks for my reason. She is deceased, I say. Let me talk to my manager, she replies. I wait in my loneliness. I wait, sensing the emptiness of the chair beside me. The officer returns. We’ll need a death certificate, she announces, meaning no harm.

As I drive home to get the document, tears run down along my face and I wonder what it would cost a bank in lost time for an officer to say she is truly sorry for my loss. To save on expense she could even skip the word “truly.” Just a sorry would help.

But I must be realistic. She can’t know that I weep in bed for the space beside me that now lies empty and cold. She can’t know that I break down and weep at the kitchen sink where my wife once smiled for the joy of feeding her family.

The Facebook friend who praises his wife on their anniversary can’t care that I won’t have any more. Just as the proud engagement stings the woman who longs to get married, or the birth announcement pains the infertile couple that has hoped in vain for a child for years. Grandma’s baby pictures shown so proudly ache in the heart that never held one, or lost one.

I have no moral for this story. I intend no guilt to be felt. In fact, we need glad announcements to counter those that sadden. Perhaps I write for the one who, like me, hurts today. One who, like me, will hurt for a really long time. To you, friend, I say that they mean no harm. Please forgive me if I have said or done insensitive things to you. I am truly sorry for your pain, for your loss. And I mean the “truly.”





My wife glimpsed heaven

13 11 2015

Fifteen years ago our family of four returned to the USA after serving in Kenya as missionaries for 10 years. Toward the end of our time in Africa, Lyn got very sick, such that we had to get a special approval from the doctor to travel. After the eight hour flight from Nairobi to Gatwick, Lyn was completely spent and I delayed our onward flight to San Francisco by 24 hours to give Lyn a chance to sleep in the airport annex hotel.

During the night, Lyn slept fitfully. When she woke, she shared with me and our daughters that she had experienced a glimpse of a softly lit passageway beyond which she saw warmth, peace and safety. She was so weak and tired that she asked God to go through the door, but He told her it was not time. We were amazed by this, and thankful to God. We continued our journey, making it to SF on a mere thread of life remaining.

There is a lot to share about what God did in the upcoming months, but suffice it to say for now that Lyn was diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukemia and for two years fought the cancer with the help of a bone marrow transplant from her sister Cindy.

I give this as a tribute to God’s kindness, for this experience often encouraged us during Lyn’s final fight for life. She was never afraid of what lay beyond death; her only concern was what it would be like to get there! Her vision was also an encouragement to others, as she assured those who were dying or fearful of it, that in the Lord there is only joy in His presence.

I share this also as background for something that happened today. I am currently tending to my mother who seems to be a short while away from going through that portal of glory for herself. As a part of the hospice service, a chaplain contacted me by phone to get acquainted and learn some of mom’s background. I was pleased to tell him that my mother has known Jesus personally since a teen, that she served alongside my dad as a missionary in Japan and Nigeria, that she was a supportive pastor’s wife through all the highs and the lows.

As we began to finish the call, the chaplain, out of the blue, said, “Robert, are you an author?” I replied that I was. He asked if I had spoken at a conference of the Healthcare Chaplains Ministry Association some years back. I affirmed that I had. Then he said this: I remember meeting you and your wife. We sat at a dinner table together and your wife shared the story of when you came back from Africa and she got a glimpse of heaven. (Yes, I said, that was us. I mentioned that we had come at the invitation of Jeff Funk, the HCMA president, whom we have known for years; Lyn and his wife Kathy have been dear friends for 40 years.) Then, the chaplain, named Wayne Yee, touched my heart: “I have often shared your wife’s story in my ministry and it has encouraged many, many people.” I hung up the phone and let the tear flow again.

The connections in the family of God are amazing because God is amazing. The threads of encouragement from Lyn’s life continue even now that she is with the Lord she loves.





Gather my scattered thoughts, Lord (A prayer)

31 10 2015

God, today my thoughts are scattered like scraps of paper across a parking lot, like leaves blown down the street on a windy day in autumn.

Help me now to release those fragments. There will be other times for brain-storming. Let this be a time for brain-calming.

I breath in — and out — slowly.

And again.

I relax my shoulders.

I begin to gather my thoughts around Jesus Christ my Savior. There is no other thought or task more important than Him. No other person or appointment rivals my Lord.

You wait to meet with Me in this hour. You know me, love me, and now You have words to give to me. Through the written Word, the Spirit of God will refocus my priorities.

You will give guidance for the major tasks of this day. You will assure me that my acceptance is based on grace not works.

I am not responsible to save the world or any part of it. But can simply hear my Master’s voice and obey as a willing child.

I rest in You. You have charge of my life. You have control of my day.

I am eager to hear Your voice, and take Your hand now, and share what is on my heart.

 





Missing her

28 10 2015

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Letter to the Privileged – 2

16 10 2015

[In continuation of my first post on this topic.] Why do we need to study Romans 1-4 with new eyes?  Paul spends these chapters seeking to break the grip of privilege from the grasp of the Jews — the insiders of his day — to help them see that the gospel is given expressly for the Gentiles (the outsiders) just as fully as the Jews. Those privileged with lineage, heritage, possession of scripture (their law), a rite of identification (their circumcision) are wrong to see these as basis for acceptance by God. None are worthy. None inherit salvation from fathers. All are unworthy. Only faith in the finished work of Christ brings inclusion.

The Jews believed that Abraham, the father of their nation, gave them an inside track with God, but Paul says that even Abraham received righteousness by faith, not works. Anyone — anyone — can have Abraham as their father if they share his faith in God through Jesus Christ.

Generally, the church today has succumbed to the same error as first century Jews. We are content to believe that, by God’s grace, we have been shown the light of the gospel while others lie outside the scope of God’s saving love. This troubles us, but we have grown theologically resigned to it.

In a way, we have our own reliance on a kind of circumcision. The word has the idea of cutting around in a circle. Those so cut are marked for inclusion. Everyone else is uncut, or excluded from the circle of belonging.

Why is this important for us? Wherever we are content to enjoy inclusion for ourselves, even feeling entitled to it, we repeat the prideful judgmentalism which Paul exposed. The result is exclusion of those who are as much beloved by God as ourselves, whether by omission or commission. I believe this condition is pandemic in the church today, a life-threatening virus which spreads unchecked in the comfortable climate of ignorance and unrepentance.

And bad theology produces bad activity. That is why in these articles I make a claim that convicts me personally:

The single greatest impediment to the advance of the Christian faith among all peoples is the prideful entitlement of those who already believe — an attitude which results not only in apathy but judgmental exclusion of those whom God loves.

The good news is for those who have received bad news.  As all people, even Jews, have sinned, all people, even Gentiles, can believe and be saved. Or to paraphrase Paul’s point: As all people, even privileged believers, have sinned, all people, even despicable unbelievers, can believe and be saved.

For “God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Rom. 5:8).

So what must we do?

First, we must re-frame our understanding to correspond to Paul’s teaching of “Jews” and “Gentiles” and apply that truth to our current context.

Typically we see the Jew-Gentile contrast as past history which has long ago been settled and laid to rest. We figure that the gospel has come to us (the Gentiles) so Paul’s expose is now academic in its cultural and social implication. We admit it must have been a radical teaching in the first century A.D. but has less direct application now that the gospel has gone far beyond its Jewish roots.

However, we must apply the sin of exclusiveness to our day by seeing that now, we who rest contentedly in our faith without a passion for lost people fill the role of “Jews” in Romans one through four. The “Gentiles,” by application, are the likes of Arabs, “terrorists” posing as refugees, the undocumented immigrants, the atheistic evolutionists, and those of an alternate lifestyle whom we have assigned a place outside the circle of favor and inclusion.

I will reserve three more recommendations for the next post….