The Beginning

It is perhaps a rather obvious observation that each one of us lives a life that is uniquely our own.  Although those closest to us -- our family and maybe our closest friends -- may know a great deal about us, they can never see the world exactly as we do -- nor us as they do.  Even Pam, my closest companion, does not even perceive our common experiences exactly as I do.

In the first  couple of weeks after Jonathan passed away I could really only think of him in terms of the devastation of the immediate loss and the staggering change in the course of my future -- in the course of my family's future.  But Jonathan was not there at the beginning of my life, and now will not be there at the end.  He is and was, instead, part of the mosaic that is my life, and in large measure the fulfillment and manifestation of my hopes and dreams -- but even more so of Pam's dreams.

There are many places I could start, but the most obvious I think is January of 1981, when I set out on what I thought was merely another adventure.  After high school I attended college in San Luis Obispo, California for just over a year before moving with my friend Marty to San Francisco.  After the failure to jump start a music career up north, I returned to the town I had mostly grown up in -- Whittier.  The plan was to spend a semester at Whittier College before heading to Hawaii to take care of my sister while her husband was on the other side of the world serving as a Marine Corps pilot.

So, in January 1981 I headed to Hawaii to continue my education at the University there.  When the semester was over Marty again joined me in Hawaii.  Even though we were living with my sister, we needed to find work quickly to pay for ourselves, and we ended up getting jobs handing out "time share" brochures on Waikiki Beach.

The first night we were out three very attractive young ladies walked by the place on the street where I was handing out brochures.  I stopped them, handed them a brochure and told them not to be too disappointed, but that I would not be there if they decided to attend the free breakfast put on by the "time share" folks (it was a joke of course!).  They didn't seem at all interested in me, and I soon forgot all about them as I continued my work.

When Marty and I finished our shift we went to find a bar where we could spend our remaining dollars on a couple of beers (yes, I was 21 and, yes, I drank beer back then).  The first place we came to was called "The Crow's Nest."  We looked inside, saw it was virtually all men inside and decided to move on.  However, just as we were leaving on closer inspection we saw that there were actually three young ladies in the place -- the same three girls I had encountered on the street an hour or two earlier.

Marty and I sat down, and when the waitress came by she asked us if we would like to buy drinks for the three ladies sitting next to us.  Given that between us we could barely scratch up enough money to buy a beer each, we politely declined but offered that we would gladly accept if the three girls were inclined to buy drinks for us.  Not surprisingly, they were not so inclined.

One of the girls was rather forward with us, which Marty and I (believe it or not) did not really care for.  The other two girls also seemed somewhat put off by this, and never became part of the initial conversation.  But, at some point all three of the girls got up to go to the ladies room, and Marty and I decided to seize the opportunity.  When they were returned we were sitting at their table.  I am not sure of their initial reaction, but ultimately they accepted their fate and sat back down with us.

I was immediately taken by a tall, pretty blond.  She told me she was an artist, but would never be in it for the money.  She just wanted to create beautiful things.  She told me that more than anything in the world she wanted to be a momma.   She dreamed of having an art studio in her home and playing with her children.  That was her life's ambition -- the one dream she had held onto since she was a little girl.  Of course, the tall blond girl's name was Pam.

Throughout the time that we dated Pam remained open about the fact that motherhood was her goal in life.  In fact, if that first night were not enough, one of our first dates after I returned to California was visiting the maternity ward at a local hospital to look at babies.  No, not the baby of anyone Pam knew -- just random babies!

In the years that followed, Pam would frequently comment on how remarkable it was that I still wanted to date her after that first night.  I guess she just figured that talking about marriage and children on what was not even really a first date would have scared most 21 year old guys away.

But, one thing lead to another, and Pam and I were married in the middle of my second year of law school.  I still count when I first saw her standing in the back of the church in her wedding dress as one of the two most important and wonderful moments of my life.

Within a year and a half or so of getting married, Pam learned that her life-long dream had become a reality -- she was pregnant.  She was overjoyed -- I was incredibly nervous.  Honestly, I was not really ready to be a father.  We finally had a little money to our name, and I was hoping we could do some fun things together before we got too settled -- like go on vacations!  But then again, who could argue with such a blessing.

Then, one day not too far into the pregnancy we woke up and quickly determined that something had gone terribly wrong.  We immediately drove to the doctor's office, and had confirmed the unthinkable -- Pam had lost the baby.  To make matters worse, the doctor presented the facts in cold, matter-of-fact terms -- not a hint of compassion in his voice or words.

If you have never suffered a miscarriage, you cannot know the pain of that experience.  It is just something that is impossible to understand (although even that pales in comparison to where we are now).  And, in this case it shattered the dreams Pam had since she was a little girl.  (Over the years, we would endure 5 miscarriages -- including the loss of our little boy named Dylan).

As soon as we could, Pam and I set about having a child -- this time intentionally.  I think for Pam in particular there was a new sense of urgency.  Among the many complex feelings that a miscarriage produces is the question of whether having children is possible at all.  For both of us there was a need to fill the hole left by the first failed pregnancy.

So, when Jonathan came along, he was truly the answer to our prayers.  He was the product of Pam's life-long ambition to be a momma -- and what a great momma she was!  Although we love all of our kids equally, there is nothing to compare to the birth of your first child.  June 10, 1986 -- the day Jonathan was born -- was the second of the two greatest moments in my life.

In the days to come I may share more with you about our family -- if I am able.  And, I appreciate your indulgence if I do.  I know I am straying from the purpose of this blog.

But for now, I just want to say this.  We often talk about God having a plan for our lives -- and indeed He does.  But, at least for me, I have rarely found that my plan and God's plan correspond to one another.  Somewhere in the pages of this blog I think I have explained how I became an "accidental lawyer" and later an "accidental pastor" -- if not, someday I will.

Having Jonathan in our life was the same way.  He was an answer to prayer.  The timing of the answer to that prayer was in God's hands all along -- not ours.  And, the time when God would welcome him back home was in God's hands all along -- not ours.

For some reason, we as Christians are always looking for the great purpose for our lives.  And, sometimes I think that quest actually diverts us from God's plan, as we follow our own ambitions instead of His will for us.  I really think that at the end of the day God just wants us to focus on loving Him, loving one another, and sharing the gospel message.  And loving others starts at home -- with our husbands, with our wives and, of course, with our children.

Indeed, if there is anything that I have learned in my spiritual journey, it is that my plans really don't much matter.   Even Solomon eventually learned that all of his plans, all of his ambitions and of his accomplishments were ultimately meaningless.  Only one thing ultimately mattered.


⁹ Not only was the Teacher wise, but he also imparted knowledge to the people. He pondered and searched out and set in order many proverbs. ¹⁰ The Teacher searched to find just the right words, and what he wrote was upright and true.
¹¹ The words of the wise are like goads, their collected sayings like firmly embedded nails—given by one shepherd. ¹² Be warned, my son, of anything in addition to them.
Of making many books there is no end, and much study wearies the body.

¹³ Now all has been heard;
    here is the conclusion of the matter:
Fear God and keep his commandments,
    for this is the duty of all mankind.
¹⁴ For God will bring every deed into judgment,
    including every hidden thing,
    whether it is good or evil.

                                                                                   Ecclesiastes 12:9-14

Oh, and Pam asked that I add this link to a great song, which reminds us that love starts at home.

I want to be just like you ....