Journey for the Heart Discussion

Journey 28: A Resemblance of Sorts

2008-04-20T16:14:00.002-04:00

Far too often I resemble the disciples on the road to Emmaus.
Downcast and in despair I trudge along, walking away from my own confusing Jerusalem, where things have not gone quite as I expected. I too misunderstand exactly what God is allowing in the fog that surrounds my circumstances. Like those two favored ones who walked with the Lord but knew not who he was, though his breath warmed their faces as he strolled by their side, I too fail to grasp that he journeys beside me, waiting to reveal himself in his perfect time.
Why he chose to travel with those two who did not identify Him comforts me when I too cannot sense His presence. Into the muddle he steps, to clear away the chaos, to disclose truth, if I would just let him break bread and feed me where I am.
What is it that keeps me from recognizing him now? My face is downcast like theirs, and I stand still in my tracks like that pair of ancient followers and ask my Lord incredulously, “Do you not know the things that have happened in these days?” (Luke 24:18). Lord, have you been absent from your post that you would allow this dreadful situation to overcome me? Master, do you not know precisely what has happened to me in these days, in my Jerusalem?”
I am quick to reprimand him, swift to try and fill him in on my woes, just like them. As if he did not fully comprehend exactly what had just taken place on the cross and in the tomb. They were informing him of his own experience, instructing him in what he knew by heart. Ignorantly, they believed him to be uninformed and out of touch. Do I not treat him with the same disdain when I attempt to inform him of my complex scenario, believing foolishly that he does not already know every precise detail that has enfolded me?
He rebuked them, and rightfully rebukes me too. “How foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe…”(Luke 24:25). How foolish I am to think for a moment that the Creator of the Universe is powerless to work in the middle of my void. How slow I am to believe all those promises he has made, all those reminders of his unconditional love that are written in black and white on sacred pages no king or tyrannical ruler has ever been able to wipe out.
“Did not the Christ have to suffer these things and then enter his glory?” He reprimands and reminds those two who are struggling towards Emmaus. Do I not have to suffer these things that he has allowed as well? Is my suffering not also for his glory? Can I not trust the one who knows exactly what suffering is all about, who refers to himself as “a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering”. Can I call myself a follower of Christ if I am unwilling to bear some sorrow as well?
Like those disciples on that dusty road I would say now, “Stay with me.” Do not leave me just yet. Reveal more of yourself while I listen for your voice. Open the Scriptures to me and let my heart burn like those two comrades of old. Break open the Bread of Life and feed me so my eyes will be opened to recognize that you are in my midst, on the dusty road, in the middle of the journey, on my way home.

Journey 27: Come Again

2008-03-12T15:41:00.002-04:00

Once I took her companionship for granted. Interspersed throughout my days I drank deeply from her cup as she offered satisfying gulps of life, laughter and love all swirled together in an exuberant mixture of delight. I rarely gave her a nod of approval, always expecting her presence, naïve woman that I was, hardly knowing that joy can be robbed and held for ransom despite all my desperate cries for her return.
She flew through the doorway as death sauntered in and cruelly snatched my darling child away. I knew no more the sweetness of her friendship, for sorrow moved in, unpacked her bags and made comments that she had come to stay and thank you very much but joy could no longer abide under the same roof alongside her. Joy hoisted her skirt and fled, this gentle, exuberant member of my household. She withdrew and left me struggling to breathe in grief’s gigantic embrace; the door banged shut, and I shuddered, numbness like ice freezing over the marrow in my bones took control. Darkness drew the curtains and heavy bolts blocked the entranceway.
On occasion, when I strained against the clamor all around me, when I forced myself to listen for her voice, I could recall distinctly that she had effortlessly blown confusion away, filling every corner with magnificent splendor. Where was she now? Would I never know the soothing comfort of her arms linked through mine again?
Timidly, she knocked once, but bolted away before I could even pry the lock open. Sometimes I caught a brief glimpse of her as she scampered past, but I suppose she hardly recognized me, my face shrouded with sorrow’s blackened veil. Though I strained at the window pane for another glimpse, hungry eyes peering into the places where I had always seen her beauty, she eluded me and time wandered by.
Gradually, when I least expected her return, she quietly tiptoed up the pathway, wearing a simple frock of muslin embroidered with pale, miniature flowers. Fastened to her bosom was a delicate, translucent brooch fashioned from a tear-shaped gem. Sorrow glanced at Joy’s appearance and recognized she must begin to pack up her belongings. The process was slow, hauntingly slow. Joy waited patiently, neither prodding nor pleading for her departure.
When days and weeks slipped past six seasons, I finally begged Joy to reenter and replace sorrow’s worn-out presence. Joy came wrapped in simplicity with a gentle smile on her face, her eyes peeling back the dreary light. Timidly, she unfastened the darkened drapes and with the sunshine creeping in she courageously unlocked the shutters and let the clear air filter through the house again.
I recognized her presence as I gathered with three friends to read stories poured out from our hearts’ pens and laugh at our simple attempts to display what our souls knew so well. I saw her form as I raced about my duties, no longer feeling the cumbersome weight of sorrow’s wretched cloak. I heard her laughter in the voices of my children and saw her passion on the face of my spouse. I felt her presence as I made ready for our son’s wedding, baking and painting and organizing, never once sensing this new load as burdensome. I knew her companionship as I tucked myself on the couch and opened the Scriptures and saw fresh, new pictures of my Father’s grace. I serenaded her as I walked in the early morning light and lifted my voice to praise my Creator who does all things well and everything in his time.
I held out my hand and she returned my grasp as I remembered the days gone by and looked ahead to the brilliant sparkle of light in the distance. Oh Joy, travel with me still. Leave not my side. Though sorrow will yet press her face to mine, let hers be a fleeting touch and yours a permanent stride.

Journey 26: Strange Giver

2008-02-11T21:57:00.000-05:00

What gifts did sorrow bring me, mounted high within her piercing arms? What are the packages I shuddered to accept that now lay heaped beside me while she lingers close, refusing to yield her grip on me? I wanted none of them. I crossed my arms across my chest and denied their welcome, but she would not relent. Savage friend. She drew near to bless dressed in the blackest form and while her lips bore a mournful frown she pressed them to my cheek. I loathed the smell upon her breath and cringed from her yellowed teeth. But she stood resolute, and would not fade away or know retreat until I accepted each gift she bore. The weight within each box brought agony but she forced me to hold it to my breast and cradle what I found, though darkness obscured the contents of each one.
In the dingy grayish hues I strained to recognize each present as grief curled herself around my chest. I waited for light to crack the shadows open wide. With unaccustomed eyes, as time slipped through seasons, days moved and rearranged and fell and drifted by, I slowly realized that she had brought me the ability to see another’s pain. Through the window of my broken heart I now quickly identified the wretched state of others in my path. Indifference could no longer impede my sight for I now sensed distinctly those who drew near me with shattered dreams or splintered lives. I understood their weak defense and grasped their silent ache in the torrent that spilled from their wounded eyes. And with this understanding came the ability to still my lips from pouring out advise on how to fix the loss, and I turned instead to listening and holding out my trembling hand to steady them rather than provide a remedy to soothe temporarily. Many had brought me comfort with their silence and I returned the favor when compassion was asked of me.
As the colors shifted, as dim flickers of light merged and sunlight timidly poked its head inside, I heard an unfamiliar, haunting tune floating out of another bundle pain had brought. The cadence grew, and from within the strains filled the air in volume loud and unrestrained, powerful and strong, magnificent in depth and pitch and frame, and I heard anew the passion sorrow had bestowed on me.
From the very place that made me cringe, from the rawest agony within, came the deepening of love between my husband and me. We, who had been torn asunder by the gravest loss, were bonded in an unbreakable hold as we clung desperately to each other for support. The grief, that if God’s hand had not stayed would have destroyed us with its brutality, he used to cement us tightly together and to forge a love stronger, richer, sweeter than before.
This love spills out upon our children too. Together we value them as one who has traveled through a desert cherishes an ordinary cup of water as an exquisite, refreshing goblet. Sorrow bestows the high treasure of gratitude and appreciation and declares with a resounding voice that nothing, not the smallest act or simplest moment, should be taken for granted. As she squeezed life from us, this unlikely messenger brought life to us in subdued tones that grow more brilliant with each day’s passing.
Sorrow stands before me still. Her intense presence fades with the passing of days, her suffocating embrace loosens and she remains a vague, unsettling reminder that she has clutched me with her hand and will forever reside nearby. She colors every portion of my world and scents the fragrance of each day. I am learning lessons from this most complex companion and perhaps the greatest one lies in the call to worship that she extracts with her presence. I realize I can choose to quiver, whimper and withdraw when I feel her intense pressure in my core, or I can use her cry as a prompt to worship the God who does all things well. She can hold me captive with her dreariness or I can turn from her and turn towards the Master of my soul.
Worship does not require that I feel good. Worship does not need me to understand the place I presently stand. Worship does not declare that I must rejoice in the situation I find myself. I am learning to worship right in the middle of the pain, exactly where I am, regardless of how I feel or what thoughts flood my mind, or what memories quench my spirit. Grief brings me the greatest gift of all if she draws my heart to worship my Creator and he in turn draws me to himself in an intimate embrace. I am learning through worship that God does not have to provide the answer to my dilemma. In grief’s company I learn that he himself is the answer. I need nothing more than him. Can I explain this most precious gift of grief? Are there words to defend grief as a friend? I think not. The One who calls himself “a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief,” has given me himself and walks me through territory he is long familiar with.

Journey 25: The Rain Still Falls

2008-01-23T21:11:00.000-05:00

The rain hangs outside in grayish clouds, drooping and sagging in the sky, threatening to fall at any moment now. The dim colors seep inside and I drag myself through the sallow hues trying to place the odd feeling cloaked around each attempt at productivity. Little gets done.
I sift through my sluggish thoughts and realize today marks the seventeenth month since James left home. Perhaps that is why I meander in slow motion; I am yet handicapped by sorrow’s harness. Silly fool to think some days will not demand I cease routine and allow my mind to simply ponder, relive, remember. He is missed in everything; even the weather joins my grief.
Though I weep far less these days, I recall him still in a hundred different ways. I am surrendering to our new normal, saying aloud that we have four children, pouring my time into the girls, laughing more. I realize how selfish my desires are for him to be here with me. Often I picture James perfectly well and joyful, a sweet companion for my own mom and dad, a peaceful trio, about the Father’s business. And in surprising ways, when I least expect it, I experience true joy again.
I have missed her presence. Joy once was a close companion yet I have heard her footsteps rarely at my path these days. But when she flings the door wide, and saunters in with arms outstretched to mine, I run to her embrace, aware that she brings gifts for all who live with me.

Journey 24: Have a Very Brilliant Christmas

2007-12-14T22:21:00.000-05:00

Christmas is anything but ordinary. If it is anything at all, Christmas is a brilliant, dazzling, glorious reminder that God always keeps His promises, that God pours out blessings for our acts of obedience, and that He calls us to "Not fear" even in the most overwhelming of circumstances. To look carefully at the Christmas story is to see that the Jewish priest Zechariah would prophecy and call him the "rising sun that shines of those living in darkness and in the shadow of death." In this Christmas season allow the one who calls Himself the "Light of the World" to shine his brilliant light into your heart and bring His brilliance to your soul.

Journey 23: Glad I Listened

2007-08-28T08:16:00.000-04:00

On August 27, 2007, I addressed the Boca Raton Home School Association about my decision to home school our children. I encouraged parents to not allow the feelings of inadequacies, the challenges, the difficulties, the unknown risks deter them from the task God has called them to.

A written transcript of the talk is available on the journeyfortheheart.com Resources page.

Episode 22: The Final Chapter

2007-08-17T07:27:00.000-04:00

In the past five months many of you have listened in and become a part of "Journey for the Heart." Working on the pod casts and the blog has given me new opportunities to experience God demonstrating his all sufficient power in my weakness. It has been my prayer for the Lord to use this site as a blessing in your life and I trust that your awareness of the presence of Christ right in the middle of your own particular journey has allowed for radical transformation in you as well.

Today's pod cast is the final installment, a wrap-up of this portion of the journey. This week marks the one year anniversary of James' death. Time has brought healing but time cannot heal. God alone authors true, incomprehensible peace. I am now more fully convinced than ever before that I serve a God completely in control, whose ways defy our finite comprehension. He promises to bring good out of what the world labels as wrong. Since the beginning of time God has kept every one of his promises. He will not fail to do so now.

"Now may the Lord of peace himself give you peace at all times and in every way. The Lord be with all of you" (II Thes3:16).

Editor's Note: On what would have been James' 14th birthday, journeyfortheheart.com was launched as part of the legacy that God was leaving through the life of James. That evening, Elizabeth and her husband Bill held a backyard dinner to give thanks and to share what God has done through the life of James and those who loved him. Click the Watch Now link below to view a video of the event.

Regular Journey for the Heart Audio Podcast:

Episode 21: Walking through Sorrow 4

2007-07-24T20:04:00.000-04:00

From the very first day our adventure with James began, and every single day since, God's Word has been my faithful, life-giving companion. I am fully convinced that apart from hanging on to the truths of the Word, I would not have survived this traumatic journey. I am not exaggerating. I know it may sound corny to some, trite and over-simplified to others, but the Bible has hedged me in, sustained me, strengthened me, anchored me, and been my place of refuge a hundred times over. For the 13 years of James' life and especially throughout this tumultuous year of mourning, God used His Word to save me from despair and bitterness, depression and anger. The One who calls himself Life and Light actually poured his life into my death experience. In today's pod cast listen for the Scriptures most of all. Let them breathe life into you as well.

Episode 20: Walking through Sorrow 3

2007-07-22T16:34:00.001-04:00

The single greatest gift you can bestow on grieving friends is to make a steadfast commitment to pray for them. There is truly absolutely nothing you can humanly do to fix their pain. Their entire world is shattered and only Almighty God is capable of pouring out grace, mercy and peace on their wounded souls. Do all you can to bear the burden with them, look for creative ways to express your love and concern, but above all else, pray for them:-
• For God to make them keenly aware of His Presence.
• For God’s Word to minister to their precise need.
• For strength to endure.
• For extra restful sleep.
• For the ability to surrender their will and accept God’s will.
• For joy to slip through the fog.
• For the time and the desire to hide inside God’s Word.
• For many people to surround them with love.
• For clear direction as decisions are being made.
• For peace to permeate every area of their lives.
• For His grace to overwhelm them.
• For them to keep their eyes fixed on what is unseen and eternal.

Episode 19: Walking through Sorrow 2

2007-07-22T16:32:00.001-04:00

Often a sense of helplessness engulfs you as you are forced to watch someone you love endure a season of mourning. You want to help bear their burden but feel awkward and uncertain as to what exactly is an appropriate response. Here are some helpful suggestions to get you started after you say, "I'm sorry.”
• Visit but sit quietly and listen. Your gentle presence speaks loudest. Let your words be few and Scripture quotes fewer still.
• Don’t say, “Call me if you need anything.” Grieving parents won’t. Just show up and be useful:
Put on a load of laundry. Fold another.
Stack the dishwasher.
Answer the phone. Write down the message with a return number
Clean the bathrooms
Throw out old newspapers
Water the plants
Go to the store. Pick up what’s missing from the refrigerator.
• Send cards weeks and months after the funeral. Most people move on but grieving parents don’t. Pray for them and then write to tell them that you did.
• Call on the anniversary of the death. Remind them you haven’t forgotten.
• Mail a package with small treats for the other siblings. A gift in the mail always brings a smile.
• Send an e-mail now and then. Keep it short. Let it be a gentle reminder of your love and genuine concern.
• Stop by unexpectedly and leave an arrangement of fresh flowers with a card at the door.
• Invite the family for dinner at your home. Keep the meal simple and the conversation kind.
• Ask the question, “Tell me all about your daughter. What was she like?” You could not give grieving parents a greater gift.
. Make a quick phone call just to let them know you are thinking about them.
. Bring by a gift of a meaningful book or CD to encourage them weeks afterward.

The smallest act of kindness becomes an enormous gift of encouragement to those walking through sorrow. Ask God to show you specifically how to minister to their grieving souls and then follow through when he prompts you. Above all else, pray diligently for God to minister and bring healing to their wounded hearts.

Episode 18: Walking through Sorrow

2007-07-18T11:28:00.000-04:00

At first, mourning demands total preoccupation like a grueling twenty-four hour shift. A hard task-master, it begs total allegiance, binding me to its strict commands. Grieving allows no breaks, no mini-vacations, no time-off. Its consuming appetite devours all other thoughts and sucks life from any other endeavor.
But as the calendar changes pages, mourning loosens its grip in meager allotments. First, minutes slide without consuming thoughts of James and then hours slip without the burden of excruciating pain. Days drift by with no deluge of tears, and when the weeping starts again the torrential downpour lifts suddenly and blows the black clouds away.
The rawness heals, but the constant missing remains, bringing an awareness that I am functioning but not fully whole, an amputee with absent limbs forced to manage with less than what was once the norm. The heart broken into a thousand jagged forms knows repair, but where the sacred tailor stitches he leaves a permanent record of the needle’s mark.
We journey now through sorrow’s fields and catch glimpses of the sunrise on a distant shore. We long to hurry through, but find the pathway dense, requiring tedious, ordinary steps. This acute sojourn requires time. The Guide who went ahead and knows this path perfectly, each twist and turn and varied scene, each pitfall and each rugged cliff, walks beside us even now. He promises to torch the darkened way. He catches me even as I stumble. He is incapable of anything less.

Episode 17: You Do the Next Thing

2007-07-09T16:42:00.000-04:00

After the funeral, after the people leave, after the cards stop coming and the plants no longer show up at your door, when people start forgetting what you never can and the tears don''t stop flowing and you think it inconceivable that any more could come, they come nonetheless.
But into the piercing pain, He comes, fully sufficient. Now, when the journey is most difficult, He choses to linger, holding us, holding me. The way He has taken us was never just about James' heart. Perhaps the journey was always more about what we as a family would learn, how our own hearts would be formed, changed, bruised. The lessons come at quite a high price. But the master does not give His instructions from afar. He is all about binding up the wounds, tending to the weary, carrying the weak, holding the broken, up close.
And He gives perspective with the passing of time. At first I scream, "I am robbed of our precious son." Then He brings me to the place, gently, lovingly, where I can whisper, "How gracious is my Father who would in kindness share James with our family for 13 incredible, amazing, wonderful years."
"As for God His Way is perfect" (Psalm 18:30).

Episode 16: No Time for Farewells

2007-06-26T21:17:00.000-04:00

"All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be."
Psalm 139:16

Episode 15: Tie a Yellow Ribbon

2007-06-24T17:53:00.000-04:00

Every soldier should have a welcome home parade to celebrate his return. James did. Yellow ribbons were tied on all the old oak trees and children lined the street with brilliant red balloons. Even the newspaper reporter and photographer showed up to interview the brave warrior as we pulled into the driveway.

Click to view the 2005 television news report

But the reporters missed another really big day - the day the donor mom, Donna, rang our doorbell, sat on our couch and snuggled close with James. We played games, munched cookies, exchanged gifts and swapped stories as if it was perfectly normal that the heart nestled inside of our son once pumped life inside her daughter's chest. Overhead, fireworks should have exploded, a 21-gun salute should have been fired and the blimp should have sailed by with words of celebration blinking brightly for all the world to see. But in the stillness of our kitchen, without paparazzi or fanfare, I watched this mom place her head against James' chest and listen to the beating of his heart. The miraculous framed in the ordinary.

That's a moment worth celebrating still.

Episode 14: Selfless Sacrifice

2007-06-18T18:24:00.000-04:00

I do not remember them as difficult days. I have no vivid recollections of the struggles and the hurdles in those first post-transplant period. As traumatic as they were, it is the spectacular moments that are etched in my memory: the satisfaction of seeing him gobble down his first meal, the beauty of his face without a ventilator attached, the joy of watching them wheel away another artificial contraption, the wonder of his skin glowing with robust health as the new heart pumped successfully.
Years after the transplant, whenever I prompted James to relate to me what he remembered of his time at Shands Hospital he said, "They treated me like a king. They brought me meals on a tray to my bed and gave me a clicker to pick any TV show I wanted." It was as if God in his gracious way erased his horrific pain and left only a trace of the lovely.
From where I stand, in my present painful place, I trust that years from now I will not vividly remember these difficult days either. Perhaps, I will only recall how He was strengthening my heart and how beautiful the Lord's face was as He pressed close to me. Perhaps, I will vividly recall how sweet His Word was when nothing else could satisfy and how life-sustaining was the grace He poured out into my emptiness. Hopefully, I will forever remember the promise He gave to me in 2 Corinthians 4:16-18: "Therefore, we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary but what is unseen is eternal."

Episode 13: Waiting Room Drama

2007-06-11T16:52:00.000-04:00

At the very moment when I was signing the paperwork to receive James' new heart, while I shuddered under the load of all the horrifying medical reports of what might go wrong during the surgery, as I held James on my lap and scratched my signature across dozens of release forms, at that moment another mother was bearing a load far heavier than mine. While I waited for James' surgery to begin, another mom at another hospital was also signing forms - but these were permission forms for her daughter's organs to be harvested for transplantation. I would later discover, she was enduring the far more difficult day. She was losing her precious child. My child was gaining life.
Perspective is everything sometimes.

Episode 12: We Have a Heart for James

2007-06-07T11:15:00.000-04:00

"We have a heart for James. It has his name written all over it!"
The pediatric cardiologist announced the incredible, long-awaited news because some brave mother had made an incredible choice. When we were desperate, without any ability of our own to make James well, a mom who lived only 30 minutes from our doorstep, a perfect stranger to us, chose to relinquish her daughter's organs after a tragic accident. At a time in her life when she could have been consumed with her own pain and suffering, this courageous mom thought of others who might be helped by her decision, and acted accordingly. She sacrificed. She was selfless. Our whole family would be forever grateful for her choice.
I get to make choices every day that to a lesser degree impact the lives of others. I can be grumpy and discouraged because of my own difficulties and allow others to suffer along with me or I can find joy exactly where I am and gift those near me with peacefulness, gentleness, hope. I can languish in a pool of self-pity and bathe myself in tears for the trial I am enduring or I can decide to have the Lord control my emotions and radiate His presence from the very uncomfortable place I am in.
I get to choose. Every day. May God, who chose to give us everlasting life through the death of His dear Son, enable us to make the choices that bring Him pleasure. May we live distinctly different lives because Christ decided to give us His own heart.

Episode 11: Flight for Freedom

2007-05-30T11:35:00.000-04:00

Waiting. Sometimes it is the most difficult task of all. Waiting for news of a new job, news from an estranged friend, news of a new heart. God calls us to wait. He is more interested in what we can learn while we wait than in instantly solving our dilemmas. He is ever about the process of refining us, knowing He has our full attention as we wait. He says, "Be still and know that I am God" (Psalm 46:10) and "Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord" (Psalm 27:14). I am to wait courageously, fearlessly, silently - not complaining about the ordeal as I wait for God.
I like it best when I can see God at work on my behalf, ordering my life in some rational, acceptable pattern. I like it even more when I can feel His presence, moving, shaking, re-arranging events and people to bring about my desired goals. But His ways are not mine. And He calls me to wait for Him to work and to rest in Him during the process. In today's episode we are waiting for a new heart. As I write this, I am waiting for Him to make sense of the difficult place I am in. Perhaps, as I wait, He longs for me to reflect on all the other times He showed up in my life and trust Him now that He will show up again, in His perfectly orchestrated way.

Episode 10: Christmas Crash

2007-05-22T23:07:00.000-04:00

I love it when God reminds me of His promises. I never get tired of reading His Word and having a verse somersault off the page right smack into my heart. To hear His voice speaking truth to my wounded, weary soul is always incredible but especially so when life is dealing you one difficult day after another. In the midst of today's episode, God promised in Psalm 33 that, "the eyes of the Lord are on those who fear him..." and I am reminded that when my child is hurting or needy I keep a particularly close watch on his every move. I keep my eye on my hurting child and my Father keeps his eye on me. I must be about the business of fearing him, looking to him as my source of strength, seeking after him, relying on him, resting completely in who he is. To fear him means I cannot fear my circumstances or what the future might bring my way. To fear him is to keep my eyes fixed on his character, on his steadfast promises and on his limitless ability to undertake and oversee.

Episode 9: Unending Mercy-Grateful Hearts

2007-05-18T09:56:00.000-04:00

Sometimes we learn our greatest lessons from the smallest of teachers. James taught me invaluable truths about life and about God. He demonstrated that degrees and positions and titles are not the best indicators of meaningful instruction. I am still trying to assimilate and apply the powerful instructions he left me:

Make other people happy every chance you get
Don't let tough times make you tough
Cheer for others at the top of your lungs
Give yourself 100% to every task set before you
Live as if you believe God's Word is true
Never let circumstances determine your attitude
Squeeze joy from the least likely places
Make God's Word a priority
Love the people in your life extravagantly
Be thankful

I am grateful that God allowed me to live with this tiny professor. I never want to forget his lessons for living life the way God intended.

Episode 8: A Soldier's Song/ Part 2

2007-05-08T21:53:00.000-04:00

Sometimes when we are standing knee deep in septic overflow, when the stench of difficulties become unbearable and our vision is impaired by the mess in front of our eyes, it is easy to imagine that we are abandoned and uncared for. In our wretched state we mistakenly believe that God stands afar off, arms folded against His chest, a look of indifference plastered on His face. We could not be further from the truth. He has never been as near, pressed close beside us, mindful of our agony, bearing the burdens of our wounded heart. Because our pain is catastrophic in size, it often blocks our view of Him. Because we have never felt weaker, we foolishly suppose He too is limited by our overwhelming circumstances. But we are wrong.

Right there, when we least feel or sense His hand at work, when we are incapable of figuring out or making sense of our predicament, it is right there that He is at work. Every parent knows this to be true. The sicker the child, the closer the parent. The greater the need of the child, the more attentive the parent stands. The more desperate the cry, the quicker our feet run to bring aid. Does our Creator not call Himself our Heavenly Father? Do you suppose He will not cherish you, nurture you, care for you when you are most in need of His help.

Rest in the conflict, the Almighty is near. Abandon yourself into His care. He is fully present and fully in control. Join the Old Testament King Asa who prayed, "LORD, there is no one like you to help the powerless against the mighty. Help us, O LORD our God, for we rely on you, and in your name we have come against this vast army. O LORD, you are our God; do not let man prevail against you." (2 Chronicles 14:11)

Episode 7: A Soldier's Song/Part 1

2007-05-01T14:45:00.000-04:00

War is hell; life mirrors war.
Soldiers get beat up on battlefields and little boys become brave warriors when they endure land mines and rapid fire cardiac units they never volunteered for.
In this portion of our journey, God allowed the stench and sweat of the fight to almost suffocate us. We experienced an oppressive darkness, a gnawing desperation that shrouded us in anxiety and fear. Right there in the middle of that mess, God sent the cavalry - people to remind us that He was still sufficient, still completely trustworthy, still perfectly in control despite all outward signs. Our supportive family came to the rescue with words of wisdom, acts of kindness and prayers of faith to dispel the drape of fear. When we were outnumbered, those who loved us dearly showed up with a rallying cry. "Remember who God is," they cried, "Remember He will give you grace for whatever He calls you to do. Don't allow your fear of what might happen to replace what you know about God. Don't forget Him in the middle of the battle. Hang on. Here He comes. Listen for His voice. He provides all the armor you need for every gut-wrenching, overwhelming struggle. Remember now. Don't lose hope."
Hope is a wonderful thing.

Episode 6: Jeremiah in Miami

2007-04-24T22:46:00.000-04:00

What situation is impossible for you to face right now? Where is God asking you to go that you dread intensely, that causes you to cringe with fear? Can you for a moment imagine that the very situation you despise is the exact place God wants you to be. The one who calls you to endure hardship always has a purpose and He is fully aware of your frailties and your weaknesses. The terrifying fish that swallowed Jonah was actually his transportation out of the raging waves to the perfect destination God designed for him. The scorching furnace that enveloped the three Israelites was certainly the graduation exercises to a higher position of authority in King Nebuchadnezzar's cabinet. The poverty that forced Ruth to pick up stray barley stalks in a stranger's field was the window wealthy Boaz looked through to see her as the godly wife he needed. The prison Joseph languished in was the ivy-league university God used to prepare him for life as prime minister of Egypt. The uncomfortable spot you are squeezed into now can be transformed by the God who makes all things new. His ways are not our ways, His thoughts are not our thoughts. He calls us to trust Him regardless, to remember who He is, to realize no difficulty is outside his scope of redemption. Go ahead. Walk by faith. Watch what He will do.

Episode 5: Major Malfunctions

2007-04-19T10:11:00.000-04:00

Friends need help navigating through an emergency. Hang around with your pals every chance you get but make sure you stick even closer when trauma hammers nails right into their heart. Without our family and friends, our journey with James would have splintered us into a thousand broken pieces. But when love moved into action, God ministered to us and reminded us of His complete sufficiency. Here are a few suggestions to get you started:
•Dispense hugs generously.
•Dispense advice sparingly.
•Listen without interrupting with your own story.
•Organize meals for the family at home.
•Bring a deliciously wrapped sandwich or salad to the hospital.
•Time stands still in waiting rooms. Your company will help nudge the clock.
•Borrow her house key and invite two other friends to help you clean and do laundry.
•Mail an envelope stuffed with notes from their neighbors, co-workers, small group Bible study or Sunday school class.
•Volunteer to care for the other children in the family and make their day bright with games, a special meal or a unique outing.
•Collect money to help offset unexpected expenses.
•Call and pray with her on the phone.
•Write out one meaningful Bible verse and tuck it into an encouraging note.
•Get him to smile. Do whatever it takes. Laughter is the best stress reliever.
•Gather a group of friends who will commit to fast and pray for a designated period.

Don't worry about not knowing exactly what to do to help. Just do something. During a crisis, the smallest act of kindness becomes a magnificent, wonderful, life-sustaining gift. Your friends need you. Show up big.

Episode 4: Unwelcome Intrusions

2007-04-10T15:57:00.000-04:00

Unwelcome intrusions litter the landscape of our lives. After enduring one crisis, we foolishly believe we are safe and that life should somehow run smoothly now. But it rarely does. We are forced to learn and re-learn vital lessons at each stage as God tutors us in the basics of obedience and trust.
We are usually in a hurry for God to answer our prayers and fix our problems. But from God's perspective, solving the problem is never the point. Developing intimacy with God is His focus. He desires us to seek His face, to run towards Him, to pursue a loving relationship with our Heavenly Father. He allows challenges in our lives to teach us to trust Him, to show us what obedience is all about. Obedience is not so much following the rules and minding your spiritual manners. On many different levels, obedience is learning to surrender my will to His, to accept His ways without murmuring and complaining. To focus on what is unseen and eternal rather than the difficult circumstance blocking my view.
In today's episode, our family is once again enrolled in school. Join us as we learn more of His faithfulness and sufficiency right in the middle of unwelcome intrusions.