2015

It probably comes as no great surprise that in most ways I would be happy to put 2014 behind me.  I have tried, I am sure in vain, from time to time to express the depth of the devastation 2014 brought to me and my family.  But honestly, no words are or ever will be adequate.

Unlike "ordinary" bad years, we cannot just put 2014 behind us.  Not now ... not ever.  I am sure the reasons for that are obvious.

At the same time, I am not particularly looking forward to 2015. Although I have largely come to the view that one day is the same as any other, and that January 1 is therefor nothing more than a date on a calendar, the greater the distance from February 2, 2014, the more the events of that day seem real ... and permanent.

That may seem odd, but denial is a powerful thing.  And, the loss of the ability to deny is extremely painful.  Denial, or at least avoidance, is necessary to survival.

The other reason I don't particularly look forward to 2015 is that for many people, including myself, a year seems like a reasonable time for mourning.  This, I know, comes from a variety of traditions, including aspects of Jewish tradition.  I have also had a number of people tell me that the first year is the hardest.

But, as the one year anniversary of Jonathan's death approaches I can already see that there will be no magic healing just because a year has passed.  Perhaps the ratio between tolerable and unbearable days will improve.  Maybe the valleys will not be quite as deep.  But I am not sure I see any possibility of material improvement.  Indeed, I am not sure I have the desire for material improvement.  I still find life, and particularly joy, to be incomprehensible without him.

I know this is not the typical upbeat New Years kinda of stuff.  But for me, my family, and many others in similar situations it is reality.

Having said all that, I would like to say "thank you" again to all those who have supported us and stood by us this year.  Your support and prayers continue to be greatly appreciated.

God has been good to us throughout, and I continue to count our family as blessed.  I thank God for walking with us.  I am grateful for His calling on my life, and DO look forward to seeing God at work in my life and in the lives of so many others in the days to come.

Reflections From Scotland

In October Pam and I met the kids in Scotland as they continued their incredible odyssey through Europe.  It is amazing to think of the profound impact that Jonathan continues to have on their lives and the maturity and thoughtfulness that made this journey possible.

The highlight of the trip, of course, was seeing the kids.  The next best part of the trip for me was just having time to rest and to reflect on life.  I had not taken much of a break after the events of February, and I was just plain tired. It has been an exhausting year.  The constant state of grief takes its toll both emotionally and physically.

One of the things I thought about during the trip is the secularization of America. It was a natural thing to contemplate given the decline of Christianity in the United Kingdom and in Europe over the last fifty years, and the parallels that are often made between the European experience and what we are now witnessing in the United States.

We all know, I think, the stories of the majestic ancient churches in that part of the world that now stand more as historical artifacts than houses of worship.  In fact, as we traveled through England and Scotland we saw little evidence of Christianity at all.  In much of Europe and the UK God is indeed dead -- at least in the minds of the people.

One of the more striking evidences of this reality is the number of old churches that have been repurposed. In one town in Scotland alone at least three old churches had been converted to, of all things, pubs.

It was heartbreaking to think about the sacrifices that had been made to build these places of worship.  Even more heartbreaking was the thought that in these places where people now gather to indulge themselves people once gathered to worship and praise The Lord God Almighty.  Who knows the life change that happened in those places -- the miracles that were once experienced there.

One of the churches-turned-pub that we visited was called "Slain's Castle."  This church was not only converted into a drinking establishment, but it prides itself on its incredibly dark theme -- vampires, gargoyles and the like.  In many ways, Slain's Castle and other establishments like it stand as a monument to a culture which has almost completely turned its back on God. 

Among the questions that naturally come to mind when we think about this reality are what caused the incredible decline in faith in that part of the world, what is causing that phenomenon in the United States, and whether the trend here is reversible. 

It would be easy to point fingers here to be sure.  The media, the politicians, and even the church no doubt have contributed to the problem -- if indeed there is a problem.  (I think we need to leave room for the possibility that the decline of Christianity in America is actually part of God's unfolding plan, and that the people who believe we are in the last days are right).

I believe that the real issue, though, starts with each of us individually.

In his book The Cost of Discipleship, Dietrich Boenhoeffer speaks of being called to a life of extraordinary quality, living up to that calling, and yet being unconscious of it.  The extraordinary life we are called to is not one of material blessing.  It is a life of uncommon generosity, uncommon love for people, uncommon humility, an uncommon capacity to forgive, uncommon sacrifice ....  Well, you get the picture.

To live such an extraordinary life and yet be be unconscious of it is impossible for men and women to accomplish through the force of their own will or the strength of their own character.  Instead, it must become so ingrained and so Spirit lead that our left hand simply becomes unaware of what our right hand is doing.  Matthew 6:3-4.

In Europe and in the United States, I am afraid, Christianity historically grew largely with the population and largely as a result of family tradition.  One became a Christian because their parents were Christian.  The consequence of that reality is that in both places while the percentage of people who identify themselves as Christian is high, the vast majority of people are only nominally so.  For the most part, only an empty form of Christianity exists.

The reality is that this empty form of Christianity gives way relatively easily when it comes up against the weight of cultural influences.  Further, the empty form of Christianity is not compelling to the unchurched or the under-churched -- it does not draw people in.  Why pursue Christ if followers of Christ look and act just like their unbelieving neighbors?  Worse yet, because real Christian character never develops, empty Christianity produces an image that followers of Christ in general are hypocrites and judgmental.  They learn all the right words, but produce no fruit.

Perhaps another reason for the decline in Christianity in Europe and the United States is that followers of Christ in these places have become too comfortable in life, and as a consequence have lost sight of the fact that we do not live in a time of peace, but in a time of overwhelming spiritual conflict. There is a real enemy battling tirelessly for souls. And, unfortunately, many of the "Christian soldiers" are not just unengaged, but oblivious to the fact that we are at war.

Unless we come to grips with this reality, we will fail to understand the struggles that we face individually or as the Church.

Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God."

Ephesians 6:10-17

 

Thanksgiving

For the first time in 27 years Pam and I are spending Thanksgiving without our kids. Honestly, in their absence we are trying our best to hide from it -- at least from the traditions that can only lead to pain today.

Thanksgiving around our house was always a bit unusual.  The kids never wanted to go anywhere, and they really didn't want anyone to join us at our house (except when Jonathan or Christian had a girlfriend -- which for some reason was the only exception to the rule).  They just wanted to be with immediate family.  They just wanted to spend time together in an environment where they could be themselves and enjoy family.

The result was often pretty ridiculous.  The conversation at dinner always turned in unexpected directions (and usually unwanted directions) and the boys would always try to outdo each other in the outrageous humor department.  We certainly had our traditions, but the scene was always anything but traditional.

Our Thanksgivings will never be the same -- they can never be the same.

Even in the midst of the devastation of this year, though, Pam and I have so much to be thankful for.  We are of course, thankful for each other, and for Christian and Dani.  We are beyond thankful that God loves Jonathan even more than we do, that God desires good things for our son and that we have confidence that we will see him again.

We are thankful for the many people who have been there for us this year.  God has blessed us with so many incredible friends and with a great family.  We are grateful for those who even these many months later continue to pray for us and to encourage us.  We are thankful that God continues to give us purpose in our lives.

If the last nine months has given Pam and I anything it is perspective.  After Solomon achieved everything there was to achieve, experienced everything there was to be experience and built everything there was to build, he realized that none of that really mattered.  It was all just "chasing after the wind."  These words are easy enough to understand, but the idea is nearly impossible to really comprehend.

At the end of the day, the whole duty of man is to fear God and to obey His commands.  Take some time today to rejoice in The Lord.  Hold your friends and your family close.  Tell both God and the people around you how much you love them.  Do so through both your words and your actions.

Feed those who are hungry and clothe those who are cold.  Visit those who are in prison and those who are sick.  Have mercy on one another.  Be sensitive to those who are hurting -- even those who are the authors of their own pain.  Forgive.

Thanks again for all who have supported us this year.  Pam, Christian, Dani and I are so grateful. With much love.

John

The Trinity

Not long ago my son Christian and I were kayaking on the Trinity River, just a few miles from home.  We began to explore a finger off the river called "Denton Creek", but had to turn back sooner than we wanted because it was getting late.  Christian casually mentioned that "next time" we would explore further up Denton Creek.

It was the second time that day that Christian talked about what we might do "next time" we went kayaking on the river together, and both times it felt like a punch to the gut.  In just a few days Christian and Dani would be leaving for Europe, and it was unclear to me when my son might be back in North Texas.  Christian will be looking for a job while in Europe, and whether he is successful there or not there is a very real possibility that he will not be living under my roof again.  Christian is grown up, and more than ready to begin his own journey in life.

I should probably be worried for the safety of Christian, Dani and Tommy as they travel together.  But, selfishly, when I think of them my thoughts turn to the emptiness of the house and how little time I may have to spend with any of the kids in the future.  Nine months ago the house was a constant circus -- filled with noise and endless activity.  Now it is quiet and still.

For most of our adult lives we understand intellectually that few things in life (God, family and friends, perhaps) have any real meaning, but we do not live that way.  We convince ourselves that we can slow down when we meet certain financial, career or other goals, but the finish line never comes -- or it comes far too late.  We blink and realize that so much of life has passed us by.  For those of us who love Jesus, we blink and realize there is so much more we could have done for the kingdom of God if only we had we had grasped the truth earlier in life.

When Christian and I set out on the Trinity for the first time I marveled at the fact that the river was less than ten minutes from our house, and yet for all these years I was all but unaware of it.  Then, as we headed upstream my thoughts quickly turned to how much Jonathan would have loved kayaking on the river with us, and how our ignorance of the river had deprived us of some great times that could have been.

And so it is with life.  The most important things are often hidden in plain view.  We need only stop long enough to see them.  Things like faith, hope, love and family.


The kids have dedicated their trip to Jonathan's memory.  Since Jonathan could not be there physically, each of the kids is represented by a Lego figure. Jonathan is the one in white.
















Tommy on the Trinity. 

 

Faith, Hope, Love and Purpose

Over the past months I have had occasion to read many stories of other parents about the loss of a child and about life, such as it is, following such a loss.  Not surprisingly, I seem to gravitate mostly to stories of young people (usually in their late teens or twenties) who obviously left this world far to early.  The contexts are varied -- from homicide to suicide, a drug overdose to a car accident, or health issues -- both expected and unexpected.  But, the heartbreak is always the same.

I have corresponded with some of those parent-writers through email, and I recently learned that a woman who wrote one of these blogs took her own life earlier this month.  It is difficult to comprehend, as her daughter had done the same thing a couple of years ago and this women therefore knew quite clearly the devastating impact her decision would have on the survivors in her family.  In fact, this woman had written a book about her experience, and I am sure that many parents found her writing to be a source of hope and inspiration.  Yet, somehow, for some reason, her pain became too great.  And, in a one irretrievable moment she made her escape.

 

Nearly eight months into our own journey and I still wonder what separates those who successfully navigate the loss of a child from those who do not.  What common denominator, if there is one, allows some people to return to productive and facially normal lives, while others never seem to escape the torment sufficiently to function even outwardly?

 

Speaking only for myself, I would say that my desire to do more than merely survive comes from the realization that my family still needs me and that God does not seem finished with me just yet.  Judge me if you wish, but without these things -- and particularly without faith -- I can easily understand why someone would see escaping the pain as a viable option. 

 

With faith, of course, comes hope.  There is the hope of one day understanding how God in his infinite wisdom can take even this horrific circumstance and use it to work out his divine purpose.  Even better, is the hope and promise that our family will be reunited some day.  And then there is love.

 

True Christian faith also means a love of God and a love of other people.  It means loving God enough to tell others about him no matter what else is going on in our lives.  It means trusting God enough to be content in good circumstances and in bad.  It means keeping our eyes focused on Jesus and on the mission.

 

To me, living a life that is about more than surviving requires that we stay focused on our purpose.  And, our purpose is really pretty simple.

 

Love God -- Love People -- Advance the Gospel.

 

 

Radical Continued

I know my posting on this blog has fallen off in recent months, and that when I have posted my writing has been dominated by thoughts about life after Jonathan's passing.  It is an inescapable fact that the events of that horrific February night will forever color my view of life, and my view of God for that matter. 

Our family continues in the struggle to find our footing in a new world that is so unlike the world we once knew.  The Bible tells us that we are foreigners and temporary visitors in this world (1 Peter 2:11-12) and never has that seemed more true.

I continue to find some solace in what I can only describe as God's manifest presence in my life.  I praise God for the work I see him doing in so many lives, including my own.

Yet, there is also an uneasiness apart from the tragedy of this year that I cannot seem to escape.  Part of that uneasiness comes, I am sure, simply from the fact that when God begins to move there is always resistance.

But it also comes from the reality that at times ministry can be discouraging.  There are times when I wonder whether anything that is happening is making a real difference.  Other times I feel like I am swimming upstream, trying to make headway against sometimes unexpected currents.

Personally, I am increasingly uneasy about my own failure to reach more people with the message of the gospel.  As my sense of the fragile and temporary nature of the life has become more vivid, my sense of the urgency to tell people about Jesus has also become more clear.

The other day I met my friend Bob for coffee at a local Starbucks where Bob frequently hangs out.  It was morning and the place was fairly busy. Bob seemed to know everyone who worked there by name.  Even more surprising, Bob seemed to know at least half of the people coming and going by name.

A number of people stopped by our table to say hello, and when each person left Bob would usually tell me a little bit about what was going on in that person's life.  Bob always had a smile and an encouraging word, despite the fact that Bob is going through some pretty difficult things in his own life.

I am sure that Bob likes Starbucks coffee. But, that is not why he hangs out there most days. Bob is there because he loves Jesus, and because he wants to give as many other people as he can the chance to love Jesus too.

Interestingly, yesterday morning our men's Bible study was all about our individual responsibility and the urgent need to share the gospel. I guess that means that I am not the only one feeling this uneasiness or spiritual discontentment right now. Thank you Lord.  We are listening, now help us to put your words in action.

¹⁶ Then the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain where Jesus had told them to go. ¹⁷ When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted. ¹⁸ Then Jesus came to them and said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. ¹⁹ Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, ²⁰ and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”
                                                                                                       Matthew 28:16-20

The Four Of Us

From the day that Dani was born until the day that Jonathan went off to Baylor, it was a set of words we rarely put together.  And when we did use those words it was simply a mathematical description of how many of us happened to be at home at the moment.  It was an expression of convenience -- used when one of the kids was spending the night away or when one of the boys was off at college.

But, "the four of us" is now an inescapable expression.  Even worse is "all four of us."

As the days, weeks and months roll by, I suspect that from the outside all four of us seem to be coming to terms with the new reality.  And, at times I fall under the illusion that there is some truth to that.  Unfortunately, though, in many ways I think that the reality is actually just beginning to set in.  In many ways I think we are still battling denial.

The biggest difference between now and a month or two ago is that we no longer have the luxury of standing still.  Time ran out on us.  Life has to move forward.  We simply have no choice other than to return to the routine of life -- as difficult as that is some days.

It may seem odd, but even now -- almost six months into this awful journey -- I don't think that either Pam or I have ever questioned God's plan or been angry with Him.  Really, I think that our trust in Him -- our faith -- is all that has really gotten us through.

In fact, I have to say that if anything my desire to serve Him has grown.  I have become more and more convinced that the church -- at least the American church -- has settled for a watered down gospel and a watered down Christian life.  I am more and more convinced that the church is in decline because the counterfeit Christianity that pervades the American church is just not all that compelling.

Still, even in the midst of all of this I have great reason to hope.  Even in the small group of people that I am able to spend time with, I see God's hand at work.  I see people who are increasingly focused on bringing glory to God and in serving others, and who are far less concerned about themselves and their own circumstances than they once were.

I see people who increasingly understand that the purpose of life is to advance God's kingdom, and not to advance their own kingdoms.  I see people -- imperfect people -- who are really engaged in the daily struggle to follow Christ -- no matter where He leads them.

And, despite all that has happened, I thank God for letting me serve Him.  I thank God for letting me be a part of what He is doing on the earth.

I really don't know why God allowed this to happen, and I hope that one day we are able to make sense of it.  I pray that one day God will reveal all that needs to be revealed about that terrible night in February. 

What I do know is that we (and so many others) miss Jonathan terribly.  

Praying For Peace

In just a couple of hours the clock will strike midnight, and the date on the calendar will roll over from June 9th to June 10th.  And, in that moment Jonathan would have been 28 years old.

But there will be no celebration of his birthday tomorrow.  There will be no cake and no candles and, most of all, no Jonathan to blow the candles out.

Instead of a birthday, tomorrow will mark an anniversary of sorts.  As Pam said earlier today, it will mark the 28th anniversary of when she and I became parents.  I became "Dad" on June 10, 1986, and I celebrated my first Father's Day by bringing my new baby boy and my wife home from the hospital.

Almost a week ago Christian returned home after ten weeks in India.  We all, of course, were overjoyed to have him home again, and grateful that he was able to get back before Jonathan's birthday.  But, nothing is  all that predictable anymore, and the combination of Christian's return and Jonathan's looming birthday have made for a new level of extreme in an already emotional roller coaster.

Picking up Christian from the airport was the best moment that I think any of us have had in a very long time.  We had missed him terribly.  But that night we decided to go out for dinner, and as the four of us piled into the car it suddenly felt as if an arrow pierced my heart.  I tried my best to hide my pain, thinking that perhaps I was the only one who noticed it.  I didn't want to ruin Christian's homecoming, and I thought I did a pretty good job of maintaining my composure.

A little while after we sat down for dinner, though, Pam mentioned what in retrospect all of us had been thinking in that same moment when we got into the car.  All of us, as it turned out, had felt that same pain.  There was something terribly wrong about four of us getting into the car together.  Our family was broken.  We were never supposed to be a family of four.

How unexpected that the four of us just getting in a car together would be so painful.

I know that tomorrow will be a difficult day -- maybe an impossible day.  How do you deal with a day that at once marks one of the most joyous and at the same time most painful days of your life?

Pray that God will grant us peace.

Of Dogs and Armadillos

It has been nearly four months since Jonathan passed away.  While I would like to say that life is getting easier, the reality is that little has changed (putting aside the horror of the first couple of weeks).  In fact, if anything, so far time has not been our friend.

Even when Jonathan was in college, I can't think of a time when two months passed without seeing our son.  And, in the last four or five years there was never a time when even two weeks went by without seeing him.  Except for his years at Baylor, Jonathan was always part of our daily life.

There are tolerable moments, but still no tolerable days.  To be perfectly honest, both Pam and I have expressed the feeling to one another more than once that if Jesus could take us now without causing pain to anyone else, we would welcome that.  It is no way to live.  Still, God has given both of us great reasons not just to live, but to hang on to the hope that joy will return to our lives. 

We have always been a close family, and I always thought a family that did not take our relationships for granted.  But now, I can definitely say that there is an even greater appreciation for the simple things and for the time that we are able to spend together.

Three or four times a week I use my lunch hour to go on dog walks with Dani.  Sometimes Pam is able to join us as well.  Sometimes we talk, sometimes we laugh, and sometimes we are just content to be together.  We have seen a lot of cool things on our walks -- baby ducks, Canadian Geese, water snakes, lots of turtles, and most recently a bunch of baby Armadillos.  Check out this video of Jonathan's dog, Ulysses, and his encounter with the Armadillos.  Jonathan would have laughed until he cried at this.

Christian returns home from India on June 3rd, and we are incredibly excited to see him!  I know that living in India has been a great experience for him, but the house has been impossibly quiet without him.  His absence has added considerably to our feelings of loneliness.  I am so glad Christian will be home on Jonathan's birthday.

Its funny, but Pam thought she was so brave when Christian left for India.  The picture I took of Pam, Christian and Tommy at the airport told the real story.  Its an expression that I am afraid both of
us wear far more often than we realize.

The other thing that keeps me going is that I can see clearly that God is not done with me here.  More and more I see the people around me beginning to "get it."  It is not so much anything I am doing as it is just people talking about the true character of God and encouraging one another to engage in the struggle to become more like Jesus.

Yesterday morning I had the opportunity to get breakfast with a few of the guys after our Saturday morning Men's Bible study.  What a joy our time together was!  During our time together not once did anyone talk about what they needed God to do for them.  It was all about the privilege of being involved in what God is doing in the world.  It was a group of imperfect men, who will no doubt continue to be imperfect in their execution, but who approach the Kingdom of God with humility and with pure hearts.   And, I will take that any day.

⁵ Ezra opened the book. All the people could see him because he was standing above them; and as he opened it, the people all stood up. ⁶ Ezra praised the Lord, the great God; and all the people lifted their hands and responded, “Amen! Amen!” Then they bowed down and worshiped the Lord with their faces to the ground.

⁷ The Levites—Jeshua, Bani, Sherebiah, Jamin, Akkub, Shabbethai, Hodiah, Maaseiah, Kelita, Azariah, Jozabad, Hanan and Pelaiah—instructed the people in the Law while the people were standing there. ⁸ They read from the Book of the Law of God, making it clear and giving the meaning so that the people understood what was being read.

⁹ Then Nehemiah the governor, Ezra the priest and teacher of the Law, and the Levites who were instructing the people said to them all, “This day is holy to the Lord your God. Do not mourn or weep.” For all the people had been weeping as they listened to the words of the Law.

¹⁰ Nehemiah said, “Go and enjoy choice food and sweet drinks, and send some to those who have nothing prepared. This day is holy to our Lord. Do not grieve, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.”

¹¹ The Levites calmed all the people, saying, “Be still, for this is a holy day. Do not grieve.”

¹² Then all the people went away to eat and drink, to send portions of food and to celebrate with great joy, because they now understood the words that had been made known to them.

                                                                                                   Nehemiah 8:5-12 (NIV)

Torn

For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.  If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me. Yet what shall I choose? I do not know!  I am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far; but it is more necessary for you that I remain in the body.  Convinced of this, I know that I will remain, and I will continue with all of you for your progress and joy in the faith, so that through my being with you again your boasting in Christ Jesus will abound on account of me.

                                                                                                                                    Philippians 1:21-26 (NIV)

Loving Jesus will not necessarily change our circumstances.  Following Jesus will not necessarily spare us from any of the realities of life that bring pain, distress or suffering.  Indeed, real devotion to Christ will inevitably lead to suffering, because a truly Christ-centered life is a sacrificial life -- a selfless life.

At the same time, Jesus not only gives us the strength to endure hardship, but our devotion to God, to other people and to the gospel inevitably makes our earthly problems seem smaller.  It is the impact on our emotions and attitudes that comes from having an "eternal perspective" on life.

By contrast, when we focus unduly on ourselves, our problems will always appear mountainous -- impossible to overcome.  I have seen it time and time again.  There are, sadly, so many people out there who are so focused on their own struggles that those struggles have become all-consuming.  Indeed, those struggles have come to define who they are as people.  And, their ability to pour into the lives of others becomes negligible at best.

I have taught these biblical ideas for what seems like a very long time now.  And, I have believed them with all of my heart.  The challenge now, however, is to live them.

To be blunt, given our current circumstances life sucks.  And, my faith in Jesus is not going to change that.  Three months ago I prayed with the kind of faith that can move mountains, but Jonathan did not rise from that table at the funeral home.  He is not coming back -- Jesus isn't going to bring him back to me.

In fact, after three months little has changed.  A significant part of every day is filled with agony.  With that pain comes a longing to be with Jesus -- and to be with my son again.

At the same time, I am confident that through Christ joy will return to my home again.  It must.

I have a beautiful wife in Pam and two wonderful children left here on earth in Christian and Dani.  Although our family will never be complete again on earth, neither will it remain broken.  It will, I am certain, be healed through the faith, hope and love we have in Jesus.

I also remain convinced of the call that God has on my life -- and on Pam's.  I see it every Wednesday night as devoted men and women gather together to encourage one another, to love one another and to strain toward the goal as disciples of Jesus.  I see it every Saturday morning as men from HC live increasing selfless and sacrificial lives together.  And I see it all during the week as God continues to bring people across my path who desperately need to know Him -- or to know Him better.

Pam and I greatly appreciate the continued concern and prayers of our friends.  In many ways, I think we are doing remarkably well given the magnitude of our loss.  And, I think that is really due completely to the healing power of Christ and the incredible blessing of so many people who genuinely care.

The Lord is my strength and my shield;    my heart trusts in him, and he helps me.
My heart leaps for joy,
    and with my song I praise him.
                                                                                                     Psalm 28:7

The Struggle

For the first time since Jonathan left us I am alone.  Pam and Dani drove to Iowa this week, and Christian remains on his adventure in India.  I was excited that Pam and Dani were getting away, and I know they are having a great time visiting with Pam's Dad on the family farm.  I was, however, unprepared for the agony of seeing them pull out of the driveway.

Even with my girls home I have felt utterly alone many times over the last two months.  But never more so than in this moment.  "Loneliness" is just one of the many complex feelings, thoughts and attitudes that have become part of my new reality.

As I have begun to return to the ministry God has given me, I cannot help but see things through this new lens.  And, I had feared that looking through that new lens I would have a tendency to compare other people's problems to the enormity of losing my son.  I feared that I would begin to see the issues people so often face in life -- the struggling marriage or the addiction -- as trivial.

Instead, I have found that my heart aches in even greater measure when I see people in these types of struggles.  So often the struggles people go through in life are self-inflicted and avoidable.  And, invariably there is collateral damage -- the parents, brothers and sisters, children and friends who must suffer as well.  Part of the tragedy is that life just doesn't have to be that way.

I have certainly done my share of self-inflicted damage over the course of my lifetime, so my purpose in saying this is not to criticize people or their struggles.  EVERYONE makes mistakes from time to time.  No one is perfect.

But I also wonder sometimes how it is possible that despite being people who love God and who are filled with the Holy Spirit, we find ourselves in the midst of such self-inflicted pain with pretty much the same frequency as our secular counterparts?  In other words, as a group I am not sure that we avoid self-inflicted agony any better than nonbelievers.

Part of the reason for this no doubt is explained by the fact that as Christians we are just as inundated as anyone else by the culture of this world.  It is a culture that largely strains toward a new heaven called "happiness" and that worships a new god called "self."  And, in such a world self-inflicted crisis is inevitable.

But part of the problem, I fear, is that the church too has allowed itself to be inundated by the culture.  The "Christian culture," I fear, too closely mirrors the culture at large.  We, I fear, are far too concerned with promoting the individual happiness and individual rights of the people God called us to shepherd.

At the end of the day, I am persuaded that many of the problems that we face as Christians exist because, though "Christians," we have never actually made the commitment to follow Christ.  In fact, our refusal to lay down our lives and truly follow Jesus not only leads us to self-inflicted wounds in this life, but just might have severe consequences in the next.

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God bless you my friends!  And thank you again for your incredible friendship, support, encouragement and prayers!!

  

Firsts

As I got in the car and headed to church last Sunday morning I should have been nervous.  I had not really run through the sermon for that morning.  Among other things, I was really unsure how long it would take to get through it.  I had an outline, but much of the sermon was more conceptual than planned out.  I put preparing for Sunday off a little longer than normal -- which is really par for the course these days.  Still, I was neither uneasy nor excited ... I was just sort of numb.

I do not preach often on Sundays.  The last time I did was that terrible day.  It might be irrational, but the association between being in the pulpit and Jonathan's passing was for me unavoidable.  In fact, earlier in the week I began to question whether I would be able to make it through.  What would happen if the flood of emotion that has  ambushed me so many times in the last two months found me on Sunday?

I arrived at church and settled into my office and the feeling of numbness lingered.  In retrospect, I think the numbness was there to protect me.  If I couldn't or wouldn't feel anything, I didn't need to worry about the possibility of a meltdown.

At some point I went into the sanctuary to pray as the musicians and singers rehearsed -- which I commonly do whether I am speaking on Sunday or not.  It has become an important time of prayer for me, as I ask God  to be present with us and to help us as a staff to minister to our church family and guests.

I don't know exactly what it was -- perhaps the worship music or maybe even the prayer itself -- but as I walked through the sanctuary the flood of emotion that I had feared would come began to build.  I remember in that moment telling God that I was desperate for His presence and that if I was to make it through the morning it would have to be through His power.  I felt for just a moment that I was being asked to do the impossible.

I would find out later that Pam had her own set of fears for that day.  She was not worried necessarily about how the morning at church would go.  But she did tell me later that if anything had happened to anyone else in our family that day she had already planned to tell me that I would NEVER be preaching again.  I know, I know ... it is irrational to think that Jonathan's passing and my preaching that Sunday were in any way connected.  But, honestly, Pam was not alone -- that thought had crossed my mind as well.

I raise all of this because our family is now in a season of "firsts."  While nearly everyone else returned to their normal lives long ago (and that is not a criticism -- just a fact) virtually everything we do for the first time since Jonathan's passing requires that we travel through a sea of unpredictable emotions.  And, sometimes our unpredictable emotions are accompanied by unpredictable and irrational thoughts and concerns as well.

I think that most people can understand this when they think of "big" events like Christmas and Easter, birthdays and Father's Day or Mother's Day.  But those same emotions can overtake us in the "normal" course of life as well -- through the simple things.  They can come the first time we eat at that restaurant that we often went to as a family, or watch a movie that Jonathan particularly enjoyed, or maybe even see someone from the past who was particularly close to our son.  They can come when we happen on a picture that brings back memories or see a post by one of his friends on Facebook. 

Still, I continue to marvel at how God is getting us through -- and particularly the strength and peace He has given my wife through this time.  That is not to say that things are getting particularly easier or that our grief is already lessening.  And, I know that the road ahead remains unpredictable and uncertain.

But Pam and I continue to pray for God to bring us peace, and to keep our family safe and healthy.  We pray that the enemy would find no success in his efforts to exploit our emotions and thoughts.  We pray that we will continue to draw closer to God, and that our family would be drawn even closer to one another.  We pray that God would continue to give us the strength to be salt and light in this dark time.  And, increasingly, we are able to pray for others, and not be completely consumed by our own needs and grief.

And, I must say that God really seems to be answering those prayers.

Finally, I would appreciate your prayers for a friend from high school named John, and for his family.  One of his sons passed away recently following a tragic accident at college.


If you are interested, here is a link to that Palm Sunday service.  Someone told me that Jonathan was probably watching and was proud of me.  What a wonderful thought.

http://new.livestream.com/accounts/7449275/events/2918220

Spring

It has been a little over a week since I last wrote anything on this blog, and for that I apologize.  While pain and joy both are often mothers of creativity, numbness seems to result largely in blank pages.  Or, put more concisely, I have simply had nothing to say in the last week.

I have resolved and then endeavored several times to get caught up on a number of projects that have mostly languished over the last two months.  Each time, however, I have lost focus -- managing to eek out only the most pressing or time sensitive tasks.  Real life in its present form is increasingly insisting on my return, but finding the will to move forward is far more difficult than I might have imagined.  There are few moments in any given day when Jonathan is not on the top of my mind.

As Pam and I sat together and talked this morning, one of us mentioned something that has been on both of our minds lately -- Spring.  Spring in Texas is always an odd mixture of life returning or emerging and unpredictable weather -- thunder storms, hail and the occasional tornado.  But, it is the "life returning and emerging" part that had captured our attention.

After over twenty years in Texas we are all familiar with the signs of Spring.  The grass slowly returns to green from the dormant brown of winter, leaves emerge on the trees and bunnies, lizards and other critters become normal sights again.  And then there are the incredible Texas wildflowers.

For both Pam and I, though, the reemergence and renewal of life this Spring is just another reminder -- like so many other things -- that our son is gone and that he is not coming back.  To see the world spring back to life without Jonathan in it evokes emotions that defy description.  Pam often uses the word "unfair" to describe the loss of our son.  But to me, "unfair" seems so singularly inadequate to express the gravity of our situation.  At the same time, no other word, nor even any number of words strung together, seems adequate.

Last night Pam, Dani and I went out to dinner, as we have done many times since Jonathan went home to be with the Lord.  It was a long wait, and I am trying to recover from what I suppose is the flu, so I was pretty worn out by the time we were seated.

As I looked around the crowded room I could not help but imagine the conversations that were taking place at other tables.  They were, no doubt, mostly focused on trivial matters -- maybe even entirely so.  It is interesting that even as Christians we allow the most trivial of things dictate our moods, thoughts and interactions with others.

It may be the trivial thing that makes us "happy" -- such as the latest Texas Rangers game or an episode of Downton Abbey.  It may be the thing that ruined our day and left us angry -- such as the rude comment from our boss or coworker or the person who stole our parking spot at the grocery store.  But the truth is that the wrong kinds of trivial things take up far too much of our time and emotional energy -- time and energy that would otherwise be spent loving God and loving others.

The other side of the coin, though, is that trivial things make up most of the substance of life.  This last week Pam posted numerous pictures of the family taken during our two trips to Germany in recent years.  Some of those pictures were of the many snowball fights that we had during those vacations.

One series of photographs in particular was taken while we were touring at Hohensalzburg Castle in Salzburg, Austria.  I am not sure that snowball fights were thought of favorably at the castle.  On the other hand, signs saying that such activities were prohibited were conspicuously absent.

At one point during the tour Jonathan went inside to use the public bathroom, and the rest of the family used the opportunity to quickly plan a snowball ambush.  Jonathan seldom came out on the losing end of such things, so this presented a rare and overdue opportunity.  Unfortunately, while the rest of the family armed ourselves and took strategic positions, other tourists became interested in our little ambush, and the gathering assembly tipped Jonathan off that something was amiss.  So, while he was unable to avoid the onslaught in its entirety, it was far less effective than our minds had imagined.

Was that moment in time trivial?  Surely.  But trivial is not always the same as unimportant.  Indeed, the most important moments in life are usually trivial in their nature.  Yes, it was just a snowball fight -- but one that brought our family closer together -- that stirred in each one of us our love for one another and our desire just to spend time together.  The question is not whether we will spend most of our time on trivial things -- we will.  The question is whether we will spend most of our time on trivial things that matter.

Along those lines, I want to leave you with this thought.  Pam and I have in the last couple of months been given a number of books written by people who claim to have had near death experiences -- where folks have been given at least a glimpse of heaven and lived to tell about it.  I don't know how you feel about near death experiences, but I approach them with some skepticism.  It is not that I discount them entirely -- to the contrary, I frequently find them to be thought provoking, fascinating and sometimes even quite credible.  Nevertheless, I think we are to be discerning about such things.

Having said that, one of the things that these authors commonly say is that in heaven there is an overwhelming sense of love.  Indeed, that is undoubtedly the most common and most poignant part of the experience.  It is a sense of love that they almost universally describe as, well, indescribable.  On the other hand, I have yet to read an account of heaven where Jesus wanted the person to return to the world with some theological clarification.  None of the writers describe Jesus saying, for example, "I brought you to heaven so you could go back and settle all the confusion about 'election and predestination.'"

I think there is a reason for that.  I just don't think Jesus is all that interested in most of our theological debates and conflicts.  I think He just wants us to learn how to love Him and to love other people.  You will have plenty of time in eternity to debate the great theological issues -- although I suspect that when you get to heaven you won't much care about most of that anymore.  Sorry, but in the scheme of things I think that most of those debates center on things that at the end of the day are trivial -- in a bad way.

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Despair

On Monday Pam and I dropped Christian and Tommy off at the airport as they began their journey to India.  We would have been concerned parents anyway, but given recent events our worry for their safety was off the charts.  Still, we are grateful to Tommy for including Christian in this adventure, and know it is a great opportunity in so many ways.  But the other side of the coin is that the house is quiet.

When the kids were growing up Pam and I always assumed that Jonathan would be forever the adventurer and that Christian would stay close to home.  But during their college and post-college years it became clear that just the opposite was true.  Christian was our adventurer.  Jonathan liked to travel -- but he loved being home.

I know that people are mobile these days, and that kids frequently move away -- even out of state.  But I hate the idea of it.  Frankly, I think the loss of family intimacy caused by a mobile society is at the root of many of our social problems.  It is why so many of our elderly are lonely and so poorly cared for.  

To be honest, the thought of Christian living away from us broke my heart.  He is such a great young man.  But Jonathan being close at least made the thought tolerable.  At least I would have one son nearby.  

Of course, at the end of the day Pam and I want Christian to pursue his dreams.  And, we will encourage him to do just that.  At the same time, it wouldn't bother me a bit if he met a nice Texas girl who he could not live without!!

In any event, it has been an emotional week -- as every week has been since the first Sunday in February.  And, I don't see that changing any time soon.

That said, for some reason I have felt compelled all day to express as best I can some of the various feelings and emotions that I have been experiencing the over the last several weeks.  I have to say at the outset that I am not sure why.  While I am sure that everyone who experiences the loss of a child shares some common emotions, I also think that no two people can have the same experience.  Even Pam and I are in very different places much of the time.  

Nevertheless, I guess it is my hope that someday someone who has suffered a horrendous loss will read this and know at least that they are not alone.  Maybe they will at least see that there are others who understand their grieving, and others who have survived.

So, in no particular order, here we go.

ALONE

I am a pastor in a mid-sized church.  The support we have gotten from our family, friends and church family has been nothing short of amazing.  There are plenty of people who are willing to spend time with us and to help us in any way they can.  It is an incredible blessing, and a really good reason for you to consider becoming part of a church community of you are not already.

Still, in the midst of all these people and all this support much of the time I still feel incredibly alone.  Pam and I certainly can be a comfort to one another, and we pray together more than we ever have before.  But she is his mother, and I his father.  It may seem odd if you have never experienced this kind of loss, but we do not, and cannot, fully understand each other's pain.  Although I think Jonathan is constantly on both of our minds, we focus on different things.    

When I get into the car to go to work each morning, and again when I return home, I pick up my cell phone and think about someone I might call who could help.  Anyone who might have the right words to bring a little peace into my life.  But, no one ever comes to mind.  There is no one.

The only two people who I think might have the right words are my father and Jonathan.  But they are both with God.  I am convinced that they have all the answers -- the problem is that when I speak to them neither answers back.

FRUSTRATED

If you were at Jonathan's memorial service or you have been reading this blog you might have the wrong impression of Jonathan.  He was all the things that have been said and written about about him, but he was also human and imperfect.  He had his victories and his defeats just like anyone else.  He had his flaws and weaknesses just like anyone else.

But, whatever ups and downs Jonathan had in his life none were insurmountable.  Either he could solve the problem himself or Pam and I could help him through it.  If he cut his knee as a little boy Pam could put a band aid on it, give it a kiss and everything was alright.  More recently, if he got stressed at work or needed financial advice or even help we could work our way through it together.

Although I am not sure Pam and I discussed it directly at the time, during the last several months before he left us we both were thinking to ourselves that he had gotten to the point where we really didn't have to worry too much about him any more.  It was time to focus our attention on the other two.  He had a great job and a great life.

And then this.  It was the first time that I had no ability to intercede -- no ability to fix the problem.  And there are times when I am just plain overcome by feelings of helplessness and frustration.  I am his father, and fathers are supposed to be able to fix everything!

ANGRY

Anger is, at least in my case, a close cousin of frustration.  There are times when the feeling of helplessness leads me to a place where I want to scream or, better yet, break something.  So many times I have wanted to pound the steering wheel or punch a hole in the wall.

Most of the time my anger has no particular object.  There is no particular person, thing or organization that I desire to be the recipient of my wrath.  I have never been angry with God -- nor has Pam.

Jonathan's death was preventable, and there are times when I, oddly enough, find myself angry at him for not taking the proper precautions.  If he could have anticipated this outcome, and if he could have comprehended the horrific suffering that would result for his family and friends, I am sure he would have been more careful.  

But again, most of the time my anger is undirected.  It is raw emotion with no one and nowhere to vent it.

ANGUISH

By far, my most common emotion is simply anguish.  I can define it for you easily enough.  Anguish is defined as "severe mental or physical pain or suffering."  Synonyms include agony, pain, torment, suffering, distress, angst, heartache, desolation and despair."

I can define it, but I cannot explain it.  I cannot help you to understand what it feels like or to experience it.  It comes in waves.  It comes when it wants -- when you least expect it and when it is inconvenient.  It may be triggered by a place, a song or a picture, or it may just come -- seemingly without reason.

From what I am reading, the anguish will likely never go away.  The waves may come less frequently, but come they will.  And that is an exceedingly unpleasant thought.  

Now, I know that some of you are wondering how someone who has the hope of Christ can have such a negative outlook.  Well, the answer to that is that I don't.  I believe with all of my heart that God is going to bring healing to me and to my family.  I believe with all my heart that my passion for serving God will continue to grow and that He will use this tragedy for our good.  I believe that we will all find joy again.

But my feelings now are real and, more importantly, they are normal.  I get that at some point I need to move forward and return as best I can to the world of the living.  But honestly, the timing of that is in God's hands.  I just don't have the inner strength to get there on my own.