The Walking Wounded Come to Christ

Two weeks ago tonight, I was part of the team that began welcoming 24 pilgrims to their Emmaus weekend, E-185. Three days later, the Holy Spirit had moved tremendously through us, and every pilgrim had some fantastic stories to share about their weekend. It was SUCH a privilege to be a part of it!

My bride and I sponsored one pilgrim. Adam is a friend of nearly 25 years, who has gone through some serious struggles and upheavals in the last 11 months. When I came off the mountain for my own walk two years ago, I thought about inviting him, and had a distinct sense of “No, not now.” But once his turmoil began last summer, I started to hear the answer change. And he was happy to accept the invitation to the weekend.

This was my first teaming experience, and so in many ways it felt like my own weekend again, this time with more awareness of what’s going on. And it was deeply, deeply moving to see the experiences of the pilgrims as they came to confront the absolutely bottomless love of Jesus, time and again, throughout the weekend. There were grievously hurt men on the weekend. There was brokenness, there was shame, there was the inability to forgive oneself in spades. And over the course of our time together, the rest of the team and I could see people blossom, come out of their shells, and come to understand God’s love, perhaps for the very first time.

One pilgrim commented to me, after a lifetime of being a “Christian,” that this was the first time he really got it, and really could see how much depth there is available in Christ. That alone makes the weekend worthwhile. To have even one soul come to know God’s love more truly than ever before, makes it complete.

We can’t live on mountaintop experiences forever, unfortunately. And so it’s been doubly encouraging to see that the seeds planted on the weekend are taking root in Adam. He has a new energy, and a new commitment to being a genuine follower of Christ, which I pray he’s able to enlarge and deepen as the weeks and months go by.

Imagine. Imagine the possibilities if we could all make that shift in our hearts. What a wonderful place this would be if that could happen.

Advertisements

The Personality of Jesus

Recently, I had the opportunity to fill in for the pastor at Sydenstricker UMC, and preached on the personality of Jesus.  Have you ever considered that Jesus would have had a personality, just like you or I did? And what kind of personality would it have been? I try to show aspects of Jesus being focused and determined, yet playful, and capable of building deep, authentically human relationships with the men who surrounded him for three years. Give it a listen and let me know what you think!

Recovering From Surgery

Thanks for the words of concern and prayers in my recovery from a burst appendix two weeks ago. They’ve all been deeply appreciated. I wanted to pass along a few observations from my convalescence.

  • I really don’t do “recovery” well. I want to be out doing things and when I do, I chafe at getting exhausted. It’s getting a lot better; for awhile I needed a nap every afternoon. Now that’s less the case. I took one yesterday, and then had a hard time falling asleep at night.
  • Saw my surgeon for my second follow-up this morning. I’m healing well, according to him, but not there yet…he wants to see me Monday, and maybe that will be the last time. I’m really ready to be done with this…
  • We definitely have an Enemy, and I’m kinda not surprised he came after me. We go up to the mountain for our Emmaus weekend in eight days, and folks have commented that the Enemy often tries to do something in advance of a weekend. Glad I got to catch that particular spear…
  • It’s amazing to me how much my routines have been upset, and that includes my spiritual ones. I used my commute in each morning as prayer time, and now I’m out of that habit. I have to make time differently for Christ, and that’s been a struggle sometimes.
  • Prayer works. I really did feel bathed in security when I was being wheeled in for surgery, and prayers for healing since then have been answered. The secondary infection that set in has largely disappeared, praise be.
  • The dog really doesn’t understand what’s going on. She’s hurt and perplexed that she can’t stay in the bed with us at night anymore. It’s hard to explain to her that the last thing I need is for her, in the middle of the night, to hit a tender spot or pull on something that doesn’t need tugging on. So we’ve started teleworking together, that seems to let her feel more comfortable.
  • I’d been prohibited from lifting more than 20 pounds until today. Man, I’ll miss that excuse for getting the kids to do things…

Burst Appendix

Ten days ago, on a Saturday night, I started to feel a little twinge in the right side of my abdomen. Mind you, this was after working in the yard for a few hours at a charity event, and during bowling night, so I figured, I must have pulled something.

It didn’t get better, and I noticed I lost energy: I came home and slept 12 hours that night, and after church Sunday I slept another 15 hours. Something wasn’t right. Monday I stayed home from work, exhausted, but still not in a lot of pain. Tuesday, though, it wasn’t getting better and I figured I should find out what it was. With one bout of diverticulitis in the family this winter, I thought it could be that, and so went to an ER that could take pictures.

The CT scan showed my appendix had begun to burst. I was taken via ambulance to Mount Vernon hospital just before 1, and by 2:45 I was being wheeled back for surgery.

Things like this–sudden, emergency, literally life-saving surgery–can be a little upsetting. My bride was a little alarmed, but I remember feeling very calm about it. I knew I was in the best hands I could be, the healer above all others, and so I didn’t feel fazed at all.

I think that’s a difference from where I would have been years ago. I think I would have been much more assaulted by the feeling of not being in control, of wanting to research the best possible surgeon, pick a different hospital, etc., etc. Instead, I felt reassured throughout the day, reassured that I was being loved and cared for even beyond the walls of the hospital. I put out a couple of Facebook messages, and brothers and sisters in faith responded with a wall of prayer for me. That felt good, that felt welcomed, and as a result I was able to breathe in the gas in the OR without worrying about what came next.

Recovery has been uneven: discharged after 48 hours, and the first couple of days at home were good. Yesterday my drain showed qualitative and quantitative signs of change, so back to the ER to make sure everything was OK. The CT scan showed no structural problems, but they put me on a stronger set of antibiotics to kill off whatever’s still around inside. Part of the hardest thing to do is…nothing, just to sit around and rest and recover. I don’t “just sit around” well.

But through it all, I am being held, I am being supported, and I do believe healing is available for me. These are incredibly reassuring, and I hold onto them through these next days and weeks.

Always an adventure, huh?