Choosing to believe

When my mobile rang within minutes of Elaine's and I saw it was my sister, a cold feeling passed over me.  Have you ever had that feeling of dread or foreboding that makes you not really want to answer the call?  Well, that's how I felt.  Pam never calls me...

I really thought she was calling about my 89-year-old mother.  After all, Mama's health has been declining recently and winter is hard on old people.

But as she talked, it soon became apparent she was going to talk about herself.  She began telling us how the indicators they have been watching for her ovarian cancer had gone up in October - and spiked in January.  The nurse from her oncologist had called to say a CT scan had showed some "areas of interest" and could she please come in to see the doctor at her earliest convenience - "would next Wednesday be alright?"

This is where my blood was supposed to be running cold and terror was supposed to be gripping my heart.  Why were we talking about this like it was the impending snow we were dreading/hoping for?  Had I forgotten that during her last battle with this cancer, my sister-in-law, the nurse, had taken one look at Pam in ICU and realized she had brought too many clothes?

I am remembering four years ago now.  And tears are filling my eyes.  It was a difficult time for my extended family.  Pam's husband, Mike, had just lost his job and with it, the house they had been provided.  While a stretch for everyone, we were very excited they (and their two sons) had moved in with us.  Then when Elaine's job ended two weeks later, we were concerned, but certain God would provide.  Little did we know...

In December - right before Christmas - Pam went in to have a cyst removed from one of her ovaries.  What they found instead was stage 4 ovarian cancer.  The removal of the cancer triggered a condition where her blood would not clot and she almost bled to death.  I still remember how strange it sounded when her surgeon/oncologist told us of the surgery, the complications, and that if she survived the next 24 hours, she would be an "ovarian cancer survivor".  Later I realized he never got to say those words.

It is interesting - but not strange - that the rest of my memories of that night are about God.

Since Pam was resting comfortably, we decided I should go home where Elaine was keeping Pam's two boys.  It's a long drive, even at night, and I was almost there when Mike called to say Pam's kidneys were failing.  (I'd watched enough TV to know that's not a good thing...)  So five miles from home, I turned around to head back to the hospital and a long night.

We didn't really know what to do.  I mean, there's no course in "my sister is about to die", you know.  So we - I - started to do a thing that had just recently become a true part of my life - I started talking to God about the situation.  Before I got very far (driving or talking with God), I called Elaine back to tell her what was going on.  I asked her to call everyone she could think of and ask them to do two things:  to pray and to call two other people and ask them to do the same thing.  We would later learn that literally thousands of people - some halfway around the world - prayed that night.  (And now the tears come again...  If you were one of those people, THANK YOU!)

I was alone with my thoughts for the hour-drive back to the hospital.  As I said, God and I talked.  That sounds kinda funny to say - I did most of the speaking, after all.  But somehow he communicated with my heart just the same.  It is important for me to tell you it wasn't a "pretty prayer".  There were no "flowers" in the words I spoke.  There was quite a bit of raw honesty, the kind you find in many of David's psalms.  Interestingly, it was much like those psalms.  Raw emotion followed by expressed trust and a plea that good things would be said about God because of those events.

I'll never forget the strangeness of seeing Pam in ICU for the first time soon after I got back to the hospital.  Lying there in a drug-induced coma, a ventilator trying valiantly to remove the gathering fluids from her lungs, she appeared more dead than alive.  (Being her brother, I would later tease her by telling her she had been too "sorry" to breathe for herself!)  My thoughts soon turned to those who watched their loved-ones in such situations without having a relationship with God-who-was-becoming-my-dearest-friend.  I suddenly saw the struggle they had/have in reaching out and hoping there is "Something" there to help them.  And in that moment, I became so enormously grateful for the relationship God had established with me.  As the nurse and I spoke, it was about how we were people of faith who knew the God we trusted.

Later that night as friends gathered (you find out who your friends are when they show up at the hospital at 1:00 AM), we decided to pray together as a group.  As I prayed, I heard myself expressing my feeling that keeping Pam alive was such a small thing for God.  I heard myself expressing the depths of my heart - that I knew God to be a God-sized God and that we wanted to see a God-sized miracle!  I think we all were truly "ready for", "at peace with" whatever God had purposed - including Pam, though at that moment she knew nothing of what was happening.  Little did we know how truly "God-sized" the miracle he had in mind would be...

All of those four-year-old events flashed back as Pam talked.  And suddenly I realized:  The God-sized miracle we had prayed for was not yet complete! Welcome to the next chapter...

All of this is background.  The real "purpose" of this post is to talk about "kinds" of faith.

Four years ago, we had little choice but to believe, to "have faith".  Gratefully, we had been given that gift (faith) and God proved (once again!) he is willing and able to do so much more than we can even imagine!  I call that "faith of necessity".

Today, our faith is a bit different.  We think we see the challenge ahead of us.  And so our faith is one of anticipation and expectancy.  "What will God do this time?"  "How will he cause good things to be said about him this time?"  "Who will he touch with the good news of his love this time?"

We know the facts and statistics.  Less than 15% of ovarian cancer victims survive their first encounter with this killer.  Of those survivors, 80% will have a recurrence within five years.  After that, the numbers are meaningless.  The "statistical sample" is too small.

This time, my wonderful sister may die.  This time, someone may get to walk with her down this last path until she goes through heaven's door, just as Pam did with her friend Jan.  This time, God may choose to build the faith of someone else for their fight.

We don't know.

What we do know is that we still serve a God-sized God.  And we can look forward - eagerly - to what God will do, how he will touch our lives today!

What size is your God?

Why 4:30?

8:59 AM me: ... I may take a nap and hang out a while tonight.
"Friend": LOL
9:00 AM me: Well, when you drag out at 4:30 you do what you have to! :)
9:01 AM "Friend": Does 4:30 come twice a day?
  me: Yep! And I see them both! :)
"Friend": Harsh!
9:02 AM me: Not as harsh as missing what God has to say to me.
  "Friend": touche
9:03 AM me: Take a look at the last sentence of Romans 14 in the MSG.
9:05 AM "Friend": "If the way you live isn't consistent with what you believe, then it's wrong."
   Questions anyone?
...

9:06 AM me: "God, will you please change me so that doesn't describe me any more?"
  "Friend": WOW...That's a blog post.
   Go 4 it
9:07 AM simple straight and to the point
  me: :). Thanks. I have a couple running around my head. May try to do some writing tonight.
9:08 AM "Friend": That stuff is worthy of reading!!
  me: I may copy this chat as the blog post! (With your permission, of course.)
9:09 AM "Friend": permission granted
  me: Thanks. I appreciate that. :). Will probably edit out the names anyway.
9:11 AM "Friend": Here's an idea for thought. On the last sentence. Not only could it be that my actions are wrong, it could also be that my beliefs are that weak.
9:12 AM No conviction to what I supposedly believe
  me: Sounds like a comment to a blog post... :)
  "Friend": just might end up that way!

The hope in the dawn...

Perhaps the joy and beauty of the dawn is in remembrance of a dawn so long ago. Not the horror of three short days before. Did this dawn feel the stirring in the earth? Did that sunrise realize the glory that would over-shadow it?

For some time I have been receiving a daily email from John Eldredge and Ransomed Heart Ministries.  As I watched the sunrise (above), I read this:

"After he laid down his life for us, Jesus was laid in a tomb. He was buried just like any other dead person. Family and friends mourned. Enemies rejoiced. And most of the world went on with business as usual, clueless to the Epic around them. Then, after three days, also at dawn, his story took a sudden and dramatic turn."

Among the thoughts racing through my head and heart, there was great joy and deep gratitude.  I suddenly realized the joyous promise of the dawns following the death of Jesus.  Had he truly been ended as his enemy (and ours) Satan had hoped, there would have been no further dawns.  Everything would have ended at that moment - time, earth, heaven - everything.

So now I wonder what glories each new dawn anticipate.  Does the dawn know secrets we have forgotten?

I don't do this enough: Bookmarking via the blog

In my last blog post, I attempted to use the tips found in ProBlogger's excellent post How to Write Fast.  

I certainly don't want to forget those tips, and so I should bookmark them.  But then I thought, "Why not put them in a blog post so others can find them too?!"

So I did.

I use a number of bookmarking tools - everything from howlergeek's Bookmarks on Delicious to Google Bookmarks to Firefox's bookmarks.  Yes, I have too many!

But adding this "bookmark location" has the added benefit (to me) of perhaps helping others.

How do you "bookmark"?

Dawn: A reenactment of Creation

I *so* love dawns!

The building colors - from the black nothingness of night, one color upon another, adding, building.

Pressing out against the black the aquas come first.  And not just "aqua", but gloriously gradations of aqua in motion - but so slowly as to be imperceptible to the eye.  Now come the goldens; yellows soft as down and heartbreakingly lovely.   The aquas have not gone.  They are simply moving up the sky, a processional of exquisite hue and variety setting the theme of the day.

As the yellows followed the aquas, so the roses follow the yellows.  Intense pale in their beauty, there is a king's ransom in their richness.

And then - a breathless pause - as though the whole of creation is waiting, breath bated.  The dawn-colors continue to seep into the sky taking their day-place.  And then suddenly(!) - the sunrise(!) - the sun an immediate presence on the horizon.

Perhaps the unpracticed eye, not seeing the velocity of the dawn has been lulled into a sense of peace and serenity.  Perhaps the glory of the sunrise *must* express itself immediately into a world without light.  Whatever the case, at one moment it is not - though there is not doubt where it will be - and the next, there it is:  the birth of the new day!

And for me, creation has just happened again.  First reading in Genesis, the majestically grand birth of form and light.  Then in John to find God-Who-Became-Man present, participating, active in that birth.  And finally to First John to find that this God so desired to be *experienced* that men would struggle to describe life with him - even under inspiration from this same God - and produce some of the most compelling prose known to man.

So once again, with this dawn, God *proves* to my heart:  He is *WITH* us!

The Joy of Discovered Failure

This is a post about the joy of discovering a failure.

Yeah, it hit me that way too, when I realized it.  You see, I seldom celebrate my failures - you know, those times/things where I forgot to listen, where I listened to the enemy.  And I guess, I'm not really celebrating the "failure" so much as the awakening to the reality and truth around that failure.

A brief background:  I have been "reading at" Mark Batterson's "Wild Goose Chase".  It so describes my heart, my desire for God!  But it also describes "where I am not".  I found myself in the "cages" Mark describes as keeping us from fully pursuing God.

Now here's the "failure":  Instead of looking at those, turning to God, and asking that *he* free me, I allowed the enemy to tell me it would be very difficult to be freed from those cages.  I've spent a week like that.

The difference this morning is that God in his kindness has invited me back to the understanding that he is the Great Changer in/of my life.  If it needs to be different, he will change it.  

Is there a role for me in this?  Well, actually, yes.  Generous and jealous God that he is - and powerful! - he chooses to only enter where he is invited.  My role, then, is to invite him.  To invite him to heal, to change, to grow me according to his purpose and desire.

God,

Would you please come heal this part of my heart - the part that fears, the part that hears the lies of my enemy instead of your voice.  Please free me from the cage of irresponsible responsibility as well.  I look forward to praising you when this is true in my life.  Thank you!

I hate being such a fake...

I really do.

Now mind you, I am so much better than I used to be. At least now I will own up to it... well, a little any way.

None of this makes any sense, does it. That's alright. It makes a little bit of sense to me.

As with almost everything with me these days, there's a story behind this.

Yesterday, I was exchanging pleasantries with a friend via IM. As we chatted, I noticed a topic I remembered from reading "Walking with God" (has it been a year already!!!). So I asked him if he had read it. (Now, what you need to know at this point is that our group of TwitterFriends heading to Catalyst this year have committed to read "Walking with God" before we go.) Suddenly, I realized I was being fake. Having read the book, I was engaging from a year-old memory as though it was fresh this morning! insight. Realizing that was wrong, I admitted to being fake and needing an accountability partner. I badgered him into agreeing for us to read at the same time each day.

*Sigh* If only I had left us alone. I could have quietly gone on representing myself as something I'm not. We both could have gotten some more (much needed) sleep. And I would not have had to write a public admission of my faults. *SIGH!!!*

One of the phrases I read this morning was, "He [God] loves me too much to leave me to my own devices." I am reeling from that expression of generosity! God loves me so much he will thwart my fakeness, expose my weariness, and bring quickly the consequences of me living "my life" from my mind (I still don't like calling that sin - but it is).

I guess I knew this would happen, that I would get more out of this reading time than my friend would. I just didn't know what it would lead to...

Transparency is one of the things I have admired in many of the blogs I have read - that quality of opening the window of the blogsphere into a segment of people's lives. I had hoped to join the ranks of the transparent when I started this blog. You see, it is so much harder to live a fake life than it is to live.

What is the point of all of this? Hmmm.... Having written this much, I'm still not sure, exactly. Perhaps just the writing - and the attempt at honesty - is the point. Perhaps this is an awkward apology to the people I have been fake toward.

Will I bare all my soul here? Not likely. My issues, in large part, are my own. And God is addressing them. Remember? "He loves me too much..." That's not to say, though that I may not "cry out" during some process (as I have during this one). Be warned...

Now. I have read for today. I have heard some of what was said to my heart. I have blogged about it. Well, some of it. Now, since it's Saturday, I think a nap may be in order...

Oh yeah... I haven't gotten to the thing that impressed me most in my reading this morning. I think I'll save that for another post.

My "depender" is broken

It is way too easy for me to read a list of attributes that characterize a believer's life - or a list that shouldn't! - and see where I "lack". My next thought is, "I have to do something about that." As though I could.

No. The only way those attributes describe my life (or, in the case of the negative ones, cease to) is when God produces them there.

I have agreed with the spirit of independence that I alone must change me. And in doing that, I have turned away from the only one who can cause that change.

God, please fix my "depender".