Happy Mother’s Day?

My mother has had Parkinson’s Disease since she was 42. For the most part, the last three-plus decades were fairly benign to her, but this year finds her in a nursing home and wheelchair-bound. In photos from her high-school days in the late 1950s, she sits demurely, legs crossed at the ankles; today, that lifelong habit means she trips on trying to stand up, or walks unsteadily instead of with a firm base.

Each year for the past few, our Mother’s Day tradition has been to go out–I’ll take her clothes shopping for a new summer wardrobe, then we’ll get lunch or dinner out. And each year, it’s gotten progressively more challenging to accomplish: first adjusting to using the wheelchair, then, as her voice has gotten softer and her words less distinct, trying to listen for what she wants among the racks of clothes at Kohl’s.

This year’s wrinkle was that she hasn’t been as hungry, and so she didn’t want to get a meal after shopping. And while we never did anything extravagant–maybe just going to a diner, or out for a burger–it was still something I missed being able to do this year, and one more piece of evidence of how her long, slow fade continues.

Now we see things imperfectly, like puzzling reflections in a mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God now knows me completely. (1 Corinthians 13:12)

With each passing year, my mother becomes more a reflection of her former self. It’s painful to her, and to me, to know she is fading. And yet I can take heart, that while outwardly she is wasting, one day, Jesus promises, he will make all things new, and all the brokenness will be stripped away, and she will be like that teenaged girl once again.

Until then, we wait, we help her in and out of the car, we struggle to maneuver, and while we are sad at what changes each Mother’s Day brings, we can at least take some joy in being able to share one more holiday with her.

Advertisements

Surprises Since My Book Came Out

I’ve been very pleasantly surprised by two things since my book came out:

First, that people have actually bought copies! I honestly didn’t know what to expect, and to have had sales (OK, not New York Times bestseller status, but still, sales!) is a wonderful surprise and I am humbled and honored that anyone should put down their money on it. Related: people have actually asked me to sign their copy. Wow, is *that* ever an odd feeling!

book cover

Second: God’s prevenient grace is already at work. Among the sales are two to close people in my life–people who have never, or very very rarely, darkened the door to any church. Yes, yes, I know, they’re buying it just because it’s me. But still: I am hopeful that they are able to enjoy it, and find themselves wondering if there’s really more to this Christianity thing than they’d given it credit for. If at the end of the day even one person buys this, reads it, and it helps them on their journey to come to Christ, then the whole thing will be worthwhile.

So as Jay Sherman says, “Buy my book!”

 

“Waiting For Life”–THE BOOK!

So, it seems I’ve written a book!

Yep! This week I’m thrilled to announce the publication of “Waiting For Life,” a book for the developing Christian who’s trying to push past the basics and learn more about the fundamentals of Christianity and how life in Christ works…even dealing with the setbacks. It’s the result of about four years worth of work, pulling together some of my old sermons, blog posts, and other writing into a set of short chapters that tackle topics the emerging Christian might find helpful. Things like:

  • What’s this “grace” business about?
  • What does faith really look like?
  • Is there really a devil?
  • How can I possibly forgive someone who did something so wrong to me?
  • Is it OK to doubt?

When I was an emerging Christian myself, I didn’t have a guide to help me along the path. I had to learn a lot myself, until I came across some sages–real giants in Christ–who were huge helps in my journey. I wrote “Waiting For Life” so that nobody else has to find their own way along the path–it’s the “trail guide” for the Christian who wants to push deeper into the faith and learn what Christmas is really all about.

If you’ve enjoyed tagging along on the journey with me in this blog so far, you might like to dive deeper yourself. Pick up a copy, leave a comment, let me know what you think! And God bless you in your exploring!

Saturday Morning

He’s dead.

I just can’t believe it. None of us can. It was only a week ago that the crowds thronged to adore him, waving palm branches and praising the king who comes in the name of the Lord. And yesterday, those same crowds called for him to be crucified. And he was: suffocating, painfully, on that cross for hours. Mercifully he died somewhat quickly. Crucifixion can take much, much longer.

God bless Joseph of Arimathea. He alone had the courage to ask Pilate to allow Jesus to be buried properly. God only knows why Pilate consented, but Joseph used what would have been his own tomb someday. The women prepared the body and laid in in the tomb, with its shroud, and then several men rolled the heavy boulder over the entrance to seal it.

I honestly don’t know that I or anyone else around me would have had Joseph’s courage. With our teacher dead, executed as a traitor to the Roman state, so many of us are fearful and melting into the shadows already. I know of several who cheered him last Sunday and who are already trying to cozy up to the temple leaders, as if nothing had happened. I can understand it, I guess. What we had thought would be a world-changing, earth-shaking revolution to restore Israel has…failed. It makes sense, I suppose, to try to make amends with the powerful who still, really, are in charge.

I think what strikes me the most right now is the silence. Where his followers would have been in cheerful conversation, laughing and singing hymns with him, we’re all now dazed, confused, frightened, and sheltering in our own homes, no longer a community but a collection of scared people. And scared people don’t sing hosannas. It’s so very quiet. It’s like there’s another shoe out there waiting to drop, and right now, I don’t think any of us can take it when it does.

It’s the second day of Passover. But I don’t feel like celebrating anything right now. I’m just so lost. God, why did he have to die? Why didn’t you see through to the end your promise of redemption of your people Israel? What do you expect us to do now?

Progress? Oh Yes!

Last time I mentioned that the two of us have started a new diet, and that it felt like a playful nudge from the Lord after we’d made our plans for Lent. So how’s that coming?

Surprisingly, well! We had to fight through the first week or so, occasionally feeling hungry and deprived, but then something amazing happened. I’m needing less food, less often; I’m not hungry in between; and feel more alert, more energetic, than before! Oh, and I’ve lost about 5 pounds.

It’s really amusing to watch this process unfold from a couple of perspectives. One, I had never before imagined how many places to eat are just carbs: out goes just about everything at a mall food court, for instance. (Auntie Anne’s, Cinnabon, Popeyes, the candy shoppe…)  And two, the up-side of doing this is better than I had feared, if that makes sense: I had expected to languish in horrible hunger, and be cranky from undereating, and in fact the reverse is true. It’s amazing what happens when you get past what’s on easy offer and see what truly can be!

And how much like our faith life is that? How much easier is it to live in what the “easy” offer is–to go to church now and then, couple times a year, to live off the “carbs” of this world. And when someone tells us there’s something better, we recoil: we *like* our Cinnabon and fries and full-strength Coke. We can’t imagine that doing without those things opens up a wonderful new world for us. And yet it’s true–in this diet, and in a deeper, more honest relationship with Jesus.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.” (Jeremiah 29:11)

Amen to that! If only we could not only hear it, but believe it!

 

Put Me To The Test

Last time, I mentioned that this year my bride and I would be giving up something each day of Lent–something to de-clutter our lives and let us focus on God. Proving once again that God does have a sense of humor–or at least, a willingness to say, “OK, you’re on!”–we now have something new to give up, and we’re doing it together.

Last week at a doctor’s appointment, her doctor told her that she needs to make a serious shift in her habits. He told her to start a ketogenic diet. This means we get to go wild on all the meat we want, including bacon (yay!), but have to live on a very low carbohydrate diet (boo). I’ve commented before on how my waistline could stand a trimming, and to give her support as well, I’ve joined in.

Here we are saying “Lord, let me have the strength to give something up in Lent,” and here’s God coming right back at us: “Okay, eliminate carbs.” Until this week I had no idea how carb-heavy our diets truly were. My usual breakfast of a grapefruit with a drizzle of maple syrup…gone. So would be any of a thousand typical American breakfast options: bagels, muffins, hash browns, pancakes, waffles…oh, sure, I can have all the eggs, bacon and sausage I want. Guess what my cafeteria at work doesn’t stock for breakfast?

Lunch: Out goes anything on bread, so my usual sandwich shops are gone. Salads, yes, and soups, sure, as long as I have some sense that they’re lower in carbs. And sure I can have meat from the cafeteria, if they offer something that isn’t breaded before it’s fried. Dinners have been OK–we skip the potato or rice now. But man, do I miss dessert. I *really* miss dessert.

It hasn’t been any easier for my wife, whose breakfast of choice for decades has been a can of full-strength Coke. We’re both struggling to find suitable replacements for all three meals, and for snacks that we can enjoy in the in-between times. This isn’t easy.

And yet, I feel, that’s the point. The lesson we may be being taught this Lent is more about discipline and commitment. You want to follow me? asks God. OK, here’s what it will cost you: your comfort zone, your usual habits, everything accustomed will go away.

“If you love your father or mother more than you love me, you are not worthy of being mine; or if you love your son or daughter more than me, you are not worthy of being mine. If you refuse to take up your cross and follow me, you are not worthy of being mine. If you cling to your life, you will lose it; but if you give up your life for me, you will find it.” (Matthew 10:37-39)

Me and my big mouth, offering to give up something. Thank you, Jesus, for taking me up on it and forcing me to confront what you’re teaching. May we find the strength to turn from what’s comfortable and find instead the fullness of what we’re being called into.