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.