I’m going to get a first hand look at what the Body of Christ is doing in Africa next week as I join my friends from Creation Festival and Compassion International on a trip to Uganda.
My entire missions trip experience is summed up in the summers of 1987 and 1988. There was this guy named Ron Luce who was working from home in Tulsa, OK who was taking a group of what turned out to be around 40 teenagers to Guatemala. He couldn’t have been more than 30 years old, to my knowledge had never done this before, and for some reason my parents saw fit to let me do this. I’m so glad they did.
We had no money, my dad was laid off from the plant, and we were in a town where there was no money because most of the town worked at the same plant and were also laid off. I remember Ron telling me on the phone that God would take care of me. He said “if someone offered to pay for your trip would you go?” I said of course. He said “Good. God will pay for it.” It sounds so cheesy in hindsight, but he was right. And God did.
What God did through and to me then was remarkable. I think one of the reasons that Teen Mania Ministries has grown so significantly is that Ron puts people in a position to not just be ministered to like so many conferences and crusades, but he put people in a position to minister.
Just like any good conduit, our own purpose and fulfillment comes only when the water of the Holy Spirit is flowing through us. All the revivals, outpourings, renewals can’t compare with the unique experience with the Lord that you can only have when you’re following Him taking the message of the gospel to world.
We want to experience the presence of the Lord. Jesus said when you’ve done it unto the least of these you’ve done it unto Me. If Jesus is in those that can’t possibly repay you for what you do; If Jesus is with the poor and the vulnerable.; then that’s where His presence is. If you can’t find Jesus or feel like you don’t have that relationship with Him? I know a great place to start.
Ask our team coming back from Haiti. I promise you that they will return from Haiti just like the disciples did when Jesus sent them out two by two. The Bible says that they returned “full of joy”. I know from first hand experience that this is true. I only wish I hadn’t let 19 years pass by before going back. I won’t let that happen again.
I tend to believe that the experience that folks are looking for when they pray for revival or for signs and wonders can only really be experienced in it’s fullest when you’re following the Lord on a mission. If you’re looking for your spirit to be renewed or to feel the Lord, save your money and your road trips to the next “outpouring” and buy a plane ticket to a third world country. It honestly might be cheaper and the experience you were hoping to find will be there in it’s most pure form.
The truth is that maybe we don’t have to choose between the two, but I think that the encounter with God that people are seeking in those environments can only be found when you’re on the go. Jesus said signs and wonders would follow those who believe (in the context of them going). He did not say that we should follow signs and wonders.
The promise of the Holy Spirit itself was to “give us power to be witnesses”. Not for entertainment or for that matter for our own tingly sensations but to give us power to be witnesses. Signs and wonders are like the air support for a ground war. Very important, but only needed to make the way for the ground troops. The context of signs and wonders in the book of Acts shows them always as part of a campaign bringing the gospel to the world. You want signs and wonders, present the gospel; especially in dangerous situations. God will get your back.
For so many years I could sit by with the idea that “it’s not my calling to go.” That it requires a special calling. I still remember the video quote that Teen Mania used from me in their promotional materials for the next year. I said “some people think that you have to have a special calling to be a missionary, the truth is you have to have a special calling not to be”. I’ve forgotten that over the years. Maybe I haven’t forgotten it so much as compartmentalized it.
You and I did not sign up to “get saved” to join a club. Jesus asked His Disciples to “follow” Him. Follow denotes that he was going somewhere. He was on the move. He still is and the invitation still stands.
It’s labor day on Monday and there will be no Conduit. If you think about it, help me spread the word that we’re taking Monday off. The following Monday I’ll be in Uganda but the team from Haiti will be back and I hope to have them share their stories of how God moved in and through them in Jacmel. They were there when the hurricane hit so I’m sure they’ll have some great extra stories.
Blessings
Darren
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Friday, August 29, 2008
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Conduit August 25- Brian Mayes Challenge
Thanks to everyone who sent cards, flowers, emails and gifts to my family this past week. I’m not entirely sure what my mom can or cannot see from Heaven, but I asked the Lord to relay the message to her that she was loved. I suppose like all of us, she didn’t realize exactly how much people thought of her.
I know she was proud of me even though she never understood the whole music business component of my life. She had referred to me around town as her son “the minister”. I never got a chance to tell her that I had promoted myself to bishop. She knows that now. ☺
I got an email from my friend Brian Mayes at Nashville Publicity group. He said that instead of sending flowers he was going to send $50 to Conduit to give to our work in Haiti. He asked If I would issue a challenge to others to do the same.
I think that’s a great idea. What better way to honor my mom than by impacting the world around us. We might not be able to stop an aggressive disease like cancer here in America but we can certainly stop a simple thing like hunger by providing food.
If you’re new to the blog or the email list, I launched Conduit a year ago with the express purpose of creating a pipeline for those with resources to those who are in need. We partner specifically with 2 ministries: Place of Hope here in Middle Tennessee and Restoration Ministries in Jacmel Haiti. We have also given to ministries like World Vision and Hands and Feet Project.
I don’t have the exact number in front of me, but we’ve given well over $30,000 in the past year. 95% of the money that comes in goes right back out. We are not a reservoir. We are a river. Just like what Jesus promised when He said that through us would flow “rivers of living water”.
I got an email from Philip Peters last night. He and the team arrived safely in Haiti. He went on to say that everywhere he turned there was something else that Conduit has paid for and provided. Every morning dozens of kids get up in Haiti and eat breakfast on us. They are being clothed and educated. They are being brought up in an atmosphere that teaches them about the love of our God and salvation through Jesus Christ.
In Columbia, TN right now there are dozens of folks whose lives were train wrecked through addiction that are being transformed by the ministry of Place of Hope. We are one of their largest donors and make this redemptive ministry possible. Mothers are reunited with their daughters. Fathers are reunited with their families. Sons and daughters are restored. The prisoners are set free through the power of God. Conduit is a major part of that.
My prayer is that you would accept Brian’s challenge. Maybe not $50 but some amount large or small. Nobody at Conduit gets paid. We all have day jobs. We have a book keeper who handles all the money that comes in and basically cleans out our account every month.
I would love nothing more than to blow away our ministry partners with a large financial gift from all over the nation. Pray about it. No pressure from me. Do this only as the Lord leads. (if you’re giving out of pressure Paul says you shouldn’t) There is a house left to be finished in Haiti. There are lives waiting to be restored at Place of Hope. Pray about it. See if God would have you do something.
You can mail a check payable to Conduit and mailed to
Shannon Tyler
511 Prince of Wales Court
Franklin, TN 37064
OR…
For your conveniences you can go to
www.conduitmission.org and click on the “donate now” button and donate by credit card.
If we’ve learned anything this month it’s that life is short and it’s full of the unexpected. Maybe you can’t get in the game by going to the field yourself, but you can be a part by being the supply line.
Tomorrow night our good friend Brad Duncan is going to be joining us. He and I are going to tag team the night. We’ll probably skip worship this week. I want to share first hand some of what God has continued to show me this past week and maybe give you some direction for where Conduit is going.
If you don’t remember Brad was the guitar player for Rebecca St James and went on to speak all across the nation on tour with Bands like Kutless as well as at major Christian Music Festivals. Brad and his family took a major leap of faith in launching a church in “Albany Oregon called The Shift. His heart is unlike many you will encounter this side of Heaven. The motto for their church is “The Kind of Church For Those Who Hate Church” Let me just tell you that it is the truth. www.discovertheshift.com
OK I’ve given you way too much information for one week. My apologies for the length. See you Monday night at Journey Ecclesia in Building 8 at the Factory. 7:30pm.
I know she was proud of me even though she never understood the whole music business component of my life. She had referred to me around town as her son “the minister”. I never got a chance to tell her that I had promoted myself to bishop. She knows that now. ☺
I got an email from my friend Brian Mayes at Nashville Publicity group. He said that instead of sending flowers he was going to send $50 to Conduit to give to our work in Haiti. He asked If I would issue a challenge to others to do the same.
I think that’s a great idea. What better way to honor my mom than by impacting the world around us. We might not be able to stop an aggressive disease like cancer here in America but we can certainly stop a simple thing like hunger by providing food.
If you’re new to the blog or the email list, I launched Conduit a year ago with the express purpose of creating a pipeline for those with resources to those who are in need. We partner specifically with 2 ministries: Place of Hope here in Middle Tennessee and Restoration Ministries in Jacmel Haiti. We have also given to ministries like World Vision and Hands and Feet Project.
I don’t have the exact number in front of me, but we’ve given well over $30,000 in the past year. 95% of the money that comes in goes right back out. We are not a reservoir. We are a river. Just like what Jesus promised when He said that through us would flow “rivers of living water”.
I got an email from Philip Peters last night. He and the team arrived safely in Haiti. He went on to say that everywhere he turned there was something else that Conduit has paid for and provided. Every morning dozens of kids get up in Haiti and eat breakfast on us. They are being clothed and educated. They are being brought up in an atmosphere that teaches them about the love of our God and salvation through Jesus Christ.
In Columbia, TN right now there are dozens of folks whose lives were train wrecked through addiction that are being transformed by the ministry of Place of Hope. We are one of their largest donors and make this redemptive ministry possible. Mothers are reunited with their daughters. Fathers are reunited with their families. Sons and daughters are restored. The prisoners are set free through the power of God. Conduit is a major part of that.
My prayer is that you would accept Brian’s challenge. Maybe not $50 but some amount large or small. Nobody at Conduit gets paid. We all have day jobs. We have a book keeper who handles all the money that comes in and basically cleans out our account every month.
I would love nothing more than to blow away our ministry partners with a large financial gift from all over the nation. Pray about it. No pressure from me. Do this only as the Lord leads. (if you’re giving out of pressure Paul says you shouldn’t) There is a house left to be finished in Haiti. There are lives waiting to be restored at Place of Hope. Pray about it. See if God would have you do something.
You can mail a check payable to Conduit and mailed to
Shannon Tyler
511 Prince of Wales Court
Franklin, TN 37064
OR…
For your conveniences you can go to
www.conduitmission.org and click on the “donate now” button and donate by credit card.
If we’ve learned anything this month it’s that life is short and it’s full of the unexpected. Maybe you can’t get in the game by going to the field yourself, but you can be a part by being the supply line.
Tomorrow night our good friend Brad Duncan is going to be joining us. He and I are going to tag team the night. We’ll probably skip worship this week. I want to share first hand some of what God has continued to show me this past week and maybe give you some direction for where Conduit is going.
If you don’t remember Brad was the guitar player for Rebecca St James and went on to speak all across the nation on tour with Bands like Kutless as well as at major Christian Music Festivals. Brad and his family took a major leap of faith in launching a church in “Albany Oregon called The Shift. His heart is unlike many you will encounter this side of Heaven. The motto for their church is “The Kind of Church For Those Who Hate Church” Let me just tell you that it is the truth. www.discovertheshift.com
OK I’ve given you way too much information for one week. My apologies for the length. See you Monday night at Journey Ecclesia in Building 8 at the Factory. 7:30pm.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Conduit In Haiti
I wanted to remind everyone to be praying for our team that is currently in Haiti. Several thousand dollars was raised that went with them that we are utilizing to better serve the needs of the kids of Jacmel Haiti.
Pastor Lafluer is with them and they will be spending the next week serving, building, feeding, and ministering alongside the people from Restoration Ministries.
This week not only are we a conduit of Gods provision but a conduit of Gods power. Please take a minute and pray that God is glorified and lives are changed through the power of the Holy Spirit.
You can see some pictures of the children that we are sponsoring and pictures of some children that still need help at this link
http://www.unitedcaribbean.com/haiti-childsponsorship-programme.html
Thanks so much to all of you for your help in this very important mission.
Pastor Lafluer is with them and they will be spending the next week serving, building, feeding, and ministering alongside the people from Restoration Ministries.
This week not only are we a conduit of Gods provision but a conduit of Gods power. Please take a minute and pray that God is glorified and lives are changed through the power of the Holy Spirit.
You can see some pictures of the children that we are sponsoring and pictures of some children that still need help at this link
http://www.unitedcaribbean.com/haiti-childsponsorship-programme.html
Thanks so much to all of you for your help in this very important mission.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Momma Lyn- Transcript of What I Shared At My Moms Funeral
Somewhere around 20 years ago Jon Albrecht coined the phrase “Momma Lyn” as a title for my mom. In doing so he verbalized what so many had come to know. My mother was a “momma” to an entire group of kids in Superior, NE.
Jon, who as a young man lost his own mother to cancer, would hit the back door of our house, open the fridge and pile on the food before heading on into the living room. Somewhere from the living room my mother could sense it was Jon and holler out “Jon! Don’t eat all of the ham” (or whatever else happened to be in the fridge)
We never had much money growing up and my moms ability to make the money spread out was fascinating. We never missed a meal. Admittedly sometimes those meals included items from bags with a plain white label with block letter words like “Cheese” written across them. But we never missed a meal. My mom may not have invented “tater tot casserole” but she sure perfected it.
We grew up in a neighborhood full of boys. It was almost like God was cooking up some sort of experiment to see what would happen if he filled up a 2-3 city block region with just boys. There were the Bushnells, The Coveys, Purcells, Lipkers, Deihls, all families with all boys and lots of them. (save the Bushnells who had Darcy and Debbie. Darcy who was too young and Debbie who is probably still scarred from the experience). A story was related that the moms were together and looked out the window to count 32 boys all in the yard at one time.
All the moms stuck together. Linda, Trish, Diana, my mother Lyn were all working in tandem. Hillary Clinton caused uproar when she made the statement that “it takes a village to raise a child”. I’m not sure about a village but I do know that together our little town raised some good kids. Momma Lyn was a big part of that.
My wife was given some advice at a baby shower once that stuck with her and with me when she shared it. It was a simple statement. “More yes’s than no’s”. That one statement summed up my mother. She definitely said no. Her no’s were very strong. They were very final. And at times they were inexplicable. She was beautifully stubborn.
But on the other hand she said yes. She said yes a lot. She never received any advice from fancy books, but instinctively she gave us plenty of yes’s.
It’s arguable that in many ways she was over protective of her 4 boys. She worried a lot about us. Actually she worried a lot about a lot of things. It was her cross to bear. But somehow in the middle of that battle, she managed to give us plenty of rope in ways that as a father I myself could learn from.
Us boys would wander off early in the morning to go fishing. We would usually go miles out of town following the rail road tracks which for us were a sort of iron trail of crumbs that would lead us back to town.
Fishing meant that we would take fishing poles in case they were biting. If they weren’t it wouldn’t be long before we were all in the river or pond or whatever body of water we were near. Clothes were optional. Sometime around supper we would head back to town covered from head to toe in mud, fish goo, pond scum and whatever else we had wrestled on or near.
She would tell us to “put our clothes in the washing machine” and that was it. We invented Tide Country. She never got mad at us for ruining our clothes. I still find it fascinating but she didn’t.
When I was in high school she let me go to Guatemala with some no name nickel and dime operation out of Tulsa, OK called Teen Mania. There was this guy named Ron Luce who was taking around 40 kids to Central America and she said yes. She was so scared and so worried but she said yes. I’ve heard it said that courage doesn’t mean not being afraid, it means doing it even if you are afraid. She would let me do it again next summer and allow my younger brother to go Venezuela.
There were definitely more yes’s than no’s. That was Momma Lyn.
I have often wondered these past few days about how a mother could be away from her Husband and Sons and not be as sad as we are. I was reading in 2 Peter and saw this verse about God not being slow as some men understand slowness. That with the Lord a day is like a thousand years and a thousand years is like a day. It hit me that my mom is operating on the Lords economy. Time doesn’t exist like it does here. If a thousand years is like a day, then for my mom we’re all only a few minutes away.
With the way things are going in the world right now, it’s possible that maybe we’re all way closer than we think. It sure seems like now more than ever that the Lord could return at any moment. We could be only a few seconds away.
I heard a story relayed to me about a prominent man who lost his young daughter in a tragic accident. The story goes that in the emergency room, surrounded by doctors nurses, medical professionals and a few close family and friends that they pronounced her dead. This man had the presence of mind to say something along the lines of “please don’t dishonor the death of my daughter by not taking time to examine your own lives and your relationship with the Lord.”
We all only have a few minutes left. I would echo the words uttered from this man. Please don’t dishonor the death of my mother by not examining your own lives. We all truly only have a few heavenly minutes left. Maybe examine your relationship with the Lord. Do those things you’ve been meaning to do but keep putting off. Don’t procrastinate it any longer.
2 weeks ago my mother went to the doctor thinking she had arthritis and kidney stones. This morning she is with the Lord. We all have so little time left. Let’s make the most of it.
And Momma Lyn, if you’re able to hear this;
I’ll see you in a few minutes.
Jon, who as a young man lost his own mother to cancer, would hit the back door of our house, open the fridge and pile on the food before heading on into the living room. Somewhere from the living room my mother could sense it was Jon and holler out “Jon! Don’t eat all of the ham” (or whatever else happened to be in the fridge)
We never had much money growing up and my moms ability to make the money spread out was fascinating. We never missed a meal. Admittedly sometimes those meals included items from bags with a plain white label with block letter words like “Cheese” written across them. But we never missed a meal. My mom may not have invented “tater tot casserole” but she sure perfected it.
We grew up in a neighborhood full of boys. It was almost like God was cooking up some sort of experiment to see what would happen if he filled up a 2-3 city block region with just boys. There were the Bushnells, The Coveys, Purcells, Lipkers, Deihls, all families with all boys and lots of them. (save the Bushnells who had Darcy and Debbie. Darcy who was too young and Debbie who is probably still scarred from the experience). A story was related that the moms were together and looked out the window to count 32 boys all in the yard at one time.
All the moms stuck together. Linda, Trish, Diana, my mother Lyn were all working in tandem. Hillary Clinton caused uproar when she made the statement that “it takes a village to raise a child”. I’m not sure about a village but I do know that together our little town raised some good kids. Momma Lyn was a big part of that.
My wife was given some advice at a baby shower once that stuck with her and with me when she shared it. It was a simple statement. “More yes’s than no’s”. That one statement summed up my mother. She definitely said no. Her no’s were very strong. They were very final. And at times they were inexplicable. She was beautifully stubborn.
But on the other hand she said yes. She said yes a lot. She never received any advice from fancy books, but instinctively she gave us plenty of yes’s.
It’s arguable that in many ways she was over protective of her 4 boys. She worried a lot about us. Actually she worried a lot about a lot of things. It was her cross to bear. But somehow in the middle of that battle, she managed to give us plenty of rope in ways that as a father I myself could learn from.
Us boys would wander off early in the morning to go fishing. We would usually go miles out of town following the rail road tracks which for us were a sort of iron trail of crumbs that would lead us back to town.
Fishing meant that we would take fishing poles in case they were biting. If they weren’t it wouldn’t be long before we were all in the river or pond or whatever body of water we were near. Clothes were optional. Sometime around supper we would head back to town covered from head to toe in mud, fish goo, pond scum and whatever else we had wrestled on or near.
She would tell us to “put our clothes in the washing machine” and that was it. We invented Tide Country. She never got mad at us for ruining our clothes. I still find it fascinating but she didn’t.
When I was in high school she let me go to Guatemala with some no name nickel and dime operation out of Tulsa, OK called Teen Mania. There was this guy named Ron Luce who was taking around 40 kids to Central America and she said yes. She was so scared and so worried but she said yes. I’ve heard it said that courage doesn’t mean not being afraid, it means doing it even if you are afraid. She would let me do it again next summer and allow my younger brother to go Venezuela.
There were definitely more yes’s than no’s. That was Momma Lyn.
I have often wondered these past few days about how a mother could be away from her Husband and Sons and not be as sad as we are. I was reading in 2 Peter and saw this verse about God not being slow as some men understand slowness. That with the Lord a day is like a thousand years and a thousand years is like a day. It hit me that my mom is operating on the Lords economy. Time doesn’t exist like it does here. If a thousand years is like a day, then for my mom we’re all only a few minutes away.
With the way things are going in the world right now, it’s possible that maybe we’re all way closer than we think. It sure seems like now more than ever that the Lord could return at any moment. We could be only a few seconds away.
I heard a story relayed to me about a prominent man who lost his young daughter in a tragic accident. The story goes that in the emergency room, surrounded by doctors nurses, medical professionals and a few close family and friends that they pronounced her dead. This man had the presence of mind to say something along the lines of “please don’t dishonor the death of my daughter by not taking time to examine your own lives and your relationship with the Lord.”
We all only have a few minutes left. I would echo the words uttered from this man. Please don’t dishonor the death of my mother by not examining your own lives. We all truly only have a few heavenly minutes left. Maybe examine your relationship with the Lord. Do those things you’ve been meaning to do but keep putting off. Don’t procrastinate it any longer.
2 weeks ago my mother went to the doctor thinking she had arthritis and kidney stones. This morning she is with the Lord. We all have so little time left. Let’s make the most of it.
And Momma Lyn, if you’re able to hear this;
I’ll see you in a few minutes.
Monday, August 18, 2008
A Few Minutes
We’re burying my mother today, I’m not entirely sure what to expect. There seem to be “moments” since she passed that have been peaceful and calm. Almost too calm. The kind of calm where I feel guilty for being so calm. And then there are the other moments. The Bible refers to grief coming from a place in your bowels. When Jacob grieved it was that kind of grief. I think the modern day term is that it’s like a kick in the gut. It’s like I’m OK most of the time punctuated by moments of getting kicked in the gut.
I’ve been wondering if she’ll actually be able to see what’s going on today. Hebrews refers to this “great cloud of witnesses”. There is some debate as to whether that is just those listed in Hebrews 10-11 or if it includes all loved ones who have gone on. In the past I’ve liked to come down on the side of those who think it’s all who have gone on before. Today I really like that idea.
I was also wondering a lot about what the first day in heaven is like. In fairness, since the Bible says that a day is like a thousand years and a thousand years like a day, it would seem like you could get a lot done. I don’t mean this in a cheeky way, but I seriously wonder if there is some sort of orientation that someone must go through.
Getting a map of the place, maybe a guided tour of where everything is, phone numbers for people who can help out, and then maybe a party with all those who had gone on before who were special to you with friends, relatives and for my mom a cameo appearance from Elvis. She never got to go to Graceland here, but hanging with Elvis surely would trump that.
This might sound stupid but I also have thought a little about what my mom knows about me personally now. Does she know every little detail, nook and cranny of my life. There are many things I’ve done in my life that I’m not proud of that she doesn’t know about. Does she know them now? Were there pictures? I really, truly, surely hope not.
I have taken comfort in one line of thinking these past few days.
It was hard for me to get my mind wrapped around how a mother could go to a place with no more tears and not cry over missing her husband and children. If indeed a day is like a thousand years in heaven, then in all reality, in Gods economy, this will only be like a few minutes for a loved one before their loved ones join them.
For my Father, maybe it would only feel like a few seconds. I don’t know how God makes that stuff work, it falls under the category of “He is God and I am Not”. But I do believe it, and I believe that in the next few heavenly minutes my mom is learning a lot and having the time of her life. For the next few heavenly minutes, her boys will go on with their lives here knowing that before too long, we’ll see her again.
Just over two weeks my mother went to the doctor thinking she had a kidney stone and arthritis. Today she is in heaven. For those of you who have joined me on this journey through this process, I wonder if you would join me in examining your own life like I have been examining my own.
The Bible says that our life here is like a vapor. It goes so fast. I got a front row seat to that. There are lots of things that I have been “planning” to do that I haven’t gotten around to. I am very much examining my priorities. There will be changes.
This might also be a good time for you to examine your relationship with the Lord. His relationship with you is just fine. He has never gone anywhere. But your relationship back to Him. It might be a good time to examine that. Maybe take some time to get that on track if it’s off. If you have never had a relationship with the Lord. I you’ve never started down that road, then today is your day.
With everything going on in the world stage in Russia, China, and the Middle East it would seem that maybe we have fewer “minutes” left than any of us might think. 10 years ago Russia was completely bankrupt. Just a few weeks ago they were marching in a military parade like it was 1985, a nation that is now rich on our oil money.
We all think we have so much time. We’re all prone to that spiritual
procrastination. Maybe the death of my mother can serve as one more reminder along the way.
And Mom, if you have the internet in heaven and can read this. Thanks. Thanks for everything.
I’ll see you in a few minutes.
I’ve been wondering if she’ll actually be able to see what’s going on today. Hebrews refers to this “great cloud of witnesses”. There is some debate as to whether that is just those listed in Hebrews 10-11 or if it includes all loved ones who have gone on. In the past I’ve liked to come down on the side of those who think it’s all who have gone on before. Today I really like that idea.
I was also wondering a lot about what the first day in heaven is like. In fairness, since the Bible says that a day is like a thousand years and a thousand years like a day, it would seem like you could get a lot done. I don’t mean this in a cheeky way, but I seriously wonder if there is some sort of orientation that someone must go through.
Getting a map of the place, maybe a guided tour of where everything is, phone numbers for people who can help out, and then maybe a party with all those who had gone on before who were special to you with friends, relatives and for my mom a cameo appearance from Elvis. She never got to go to Graceland here, but hanging with Elvis surely would trump that.
This might sound stupid but I also have thought a little about what my mom knows about me personally now. Does she know every little detail, nook and cranny of my life. There are many things I’ve done in my life that I’m not proud of that she doesn’t know about. Does she know them now? Were there pictures? I really, truly, surely hope not.
I have taken comfort in one line of thinking these past few days.
It was hard for me to get my mind wrapped around how a mother could go to a place with no more tears and not cry over missing her husband and children. If indeed a day is like a thousand years in heaven, then in all reality, in Gods economy, this will only be like a few minutes for a loved one before their loved ones join them.
For my Father, maybe it would only feel like a few seconds. I don’t know how God makes that stuff work, it falls under the category of “He is God and I am Not”. But I do believe it, and I believe that in the next few heavenly minutes my mom is learning a lot and having the time of her life. For the next few heavenly minutes, her boys will go on with their lives here knowing that before too long, we’ll see her again.
Just over two weeks my mother went to the doctor thinking she had a kidney stone and arthritis. Today she is in heaven. For those of you who have joined me on this journey through this process, I wonder if you would join me in examining your own life like I have been examining my own.
The Bible says that our life here is like a vapor. It goes so fast. I got a front row seat to that. There are lots of things that I have been “planning” to do that I haven’t gotten around to. I am very much examining my priorities. There will be changes.
This might also be a good time for you to examine your relationship with the Lord. His relationship with you is just fine. He has never gone anywhere. But your relationship back to Him. It might be a good time to examine that. Maybe take some time to get that on track if it’s off. If you have never had a relationship with the Lord. I you’ve never started down that road, then today is your day.
With everything going on in the world stage in Russia, China, and the Middle East it would seem that maybe we have fewer “minutes” left than any of us might think. 10 years ago Russia was completely bankrupt. Just a few weeks ago they were marching in a military parade like it was 1985, a nation that is now rich on our oil money.
We all think we have so much time. We’re all prone to that spiritual
procrastination. Maybe the death of my mother can serve as one more reminder along the way.
And Mom, if you have the internet in heaven and can read this. Thanks. Thanks for everything.
I’ll see you in a few minutes.
Friday, August 15, 2008
Monday at 2pm
I've had a few folks asking about the service for my mother. I'm only putting it here for convenience since I'm without easy access to internet here in NE.
The service arrangements are:
Lois Lyn Tyler
Monday at 2pm at
Price Funeral Home
750 N Commercial
Superior, Nebraska 68978
Phone: 402-879-3900
Fax: 402-879-3999
The service arrangements are:
Lois Lyn Tyler
Monday at 2pm at
Price Funeral Home
750 N Commercial
Superior, Nebraska 68978
Phone: 402-879-3900
Fax: 402-879-3999
Thursday, August 14, 2008
The Last Night
After a long night of sitting beside my mother’s bed, I was physically exhausted. I was trying to get my mind wrapped around how this was going to work. We knew that her time was short. Every time she would take a breath it was deep, strained, wheezing and it would be followed by a pause. 5-10 seconds is a long time when you’re talking about breathing. I would sit there with this anticipation, is that it, is she gone, and then whew. Another breath.
Our Angel/ Nurse Mary said that the actual dying process is the hardest part. The body fights it. Even internally the heart will do whatever it can to make sure it has enough oxygen to survive. It doesn’t want to die. Survival at all costs. Death is an enemy, and even physiologically, at our most primal state, our bodies understand this. It is Jesus who defeated death and ultimately our defeat of it will happen with our resurrection, not with our avoidance.
Mary said that this process could probably last throughout the day. She told us that the wheezing would get worse, the infamous “death rattle”. This would slowly turn to gurgling as her lungs would fill with fluid and would result in her sort of drowning. We were warned that even though Mom was drugged sufficiently that this would not be easy for us to watch.
I don’t remember much of my prayer, but it went something along the lines of “ God, throw me a freaking bone here. Just this one time in this process. Don’t let that be the way she goes out. “ I asked for this process to be quick (something He seemed to be granting) but I also asked for it to be peaceful. I could think of nothing less peaceful than watching my mother die in that way.
Around 7am I was completely delirious after having been awake for 25 hours. I sat on the futon couch in her room and sort of drifted between sleep and awake while my brothers wandered down to find breakfast. Mary seemed to think this was going to be a long day, so some breakfast was in order.
My Dad was holding her hand, and was praying for her. He didn’t know I was listening. He told my mom that it was OK to let go. He told her that he loved her. That he would be OK that the boys would be OK. He would miss her. He asked God to let her go peacefully.
My father is a good man. He’s kind. He’s gentle. But I had never seen him pray with my mom before. I hadn’t seen him be her “husband” in as long as I can remember. My parents are good Midwest parents. They were very functional in their relationship but not necessarily affectionate. This morning was different. He brushed her hair. He loved her.
At 7:50 my mom was still breathing heavy, still wheezing, but not gurgling or any sort of drowning. By that time I had dozed off to my own personal coma. I was awoken to my dad standing up and the room filling up with my family. Dad had sent a nurse to get my brothers and they were waking me up.
He just had a feeling that it was time.
I jumped up, tried to get my bearings, my family had filed back into the room as fast as possible. It was 7:53. 4 miles away at her home, our good friend, spiritual mentor Diane Covey had shot up in bed and texted me a simple message: “???” She had been with us earlier that night and said she woke straight up and felt like something was happening.
It was at 7:53 that my mom stopped breathing heavy through her mouth and started breathing through her nose. She was breathing very softly, very peacefully. We were all there because my dad “knew”. It’s so crazy to say it but he just “knew”. We were all standing there, All holding her. And she breathed her last breath. No drowning. No gurgling. No suffering.
I was completely blown away. My Dad just kept saying, “I don’t know how, but I just knew”. He said “It’s hard to explain, but God was here. I felt the presence of the Lord. He showed me. It was like He came down and personally took her home”.
My Father who has been so broken, and so lost stood there and led us through this. He was calm and peaceful. My Father who has been playing a supporting role while He figured out how to live without His wife of 42 years moved to the central role today. He was my Father. He was my mother’s husband. He was Gods son.
I had been looking for God all along in this journey. Whether or not He was hiding or I just wasn’t looking hard enough is open to debate, but this morning it was different. This morning I saw Him. He was right there in my Father.
I asked God to throw me a bone.
He gave my mom peace. He gave me my Dad.
Our Angel/ Nurse Mary said that the actual dying process is the hardest part. The body fights it. Even internally the heart will do whatever it can to make sure it has enough oxygen to survive. It doesn’t want to die. Survival at all costs. Death is an enemy, and even physiologically, at our most primal state, our bodies understand this. It is Jesus who defeated death and ultimately our defeat of it will happen with our resurrection, not with our avoidance.
Mary said that this process could probably last throughout the day. She told us that the wheezing would get worse, the infamous “death rattle”. This would slowly turn to gurgling as her lungs would fill with fluid and would result in her sort of drowning. We were warned that even though Mom was drugged sufficiently that this would not be easy for us to watch.
I don’t remember much of my prayer, but it went something along the lines of “ God, throw me a freaking bone here. Just this one time in this process. Don’t let that be the way she goes out. “ I asked for this process to be quick (something He seemed to be granting) but I also asked for it to be peaceful. I could think of nothing less peaceful than watching my mother die in that way.
Around 7am I was completely delirious after having been awake for 25 hours. I sat on the futon couch in her room and sort of drifted between sleep and awake while my brothers wandered down to find breakfast. Mary seemed to think this was going to be a long day, so some breakfast was in order.
My Dad was holding her hand, and was praying for her. He didn’t know I was listening. He told my mom that it was OK to let go. He told her that he loved her. That he would be OK that the boys would be OK. He would miss her. He asked God to let her go peacefully.
My father is a good man. He’s kind. He’s gentle. But I had never seen him pray with my mom before. I hadn’t seen him be her “husband” in as long as I can remember. My parents are good Midwest parents. They were very functional in their relationship but not necessarily affectionate. This morning was different. He brushed her hair. He loved her.
At 7:50 my mom was still breathing heavy, still wheezing, but not gurgling or any sort of drowning. By that time I had dozed off to my own personal coma. I was awoken to my dad standing up and the room filling up with my family. Dad had sent a nurse to get my brothers and they were waking me up.
He just had a feeling that it was time.
I jumped up, tried to get my bearings, my family had filed back into the room as fast as possible. It was 7:53. 4 miles away at her home, our good friend, spiritual mentor Diane Covey had shot up in bed and texted me a simple message: “???” She had been with us earlier that night and said she woke straight up and felt like something was happening.
It was at 7:53 that my mom stopped breathing heavy through her mouth and started breathing through her nose. She was breathing very softly, very peacefully. We were all there because my dad “knew”. It’s so crazy to say it but he just “knew”. We were all standing there, All holding her. And she breathed her last breath. No drowning. No gurgling. No suffering.
I was completely blown away. My Dad just kept saying, “I don’t know how, but I just knew”. He said “It’s hard to explain, but God was here. I felt the presence of the Lord. He showed me. It was like He came down and personally took her home”.
My Father who has been so broken, and so lost stood there and led us through this. He was calm and peaceful. My Father who has been playing a supporting role while He figured out how to live without His wife of 42 years moved to the central role today. He was my Father. He was my mother’s husband. He was Gods son.
I had been looking for God all along in this journey. Whether or not He was hiding or I just wasn’t looking hard enough is open to debate, but this morning it was different. This morning I saw Him. He was right there in my Father.
I asked God to throw me a bone.
He gave my mom peace. He gave me my Dad.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
The Final Stretch
When we took my mom to the hospice there was this sort of expectation that we would have a peaceful, long goodbye for my mom. The brochures all have these pictures of old people in tranquil poses who are at peace, with their peaceful families. They are those sort of cartoon / lifelike drawings in rooms that are well lit with sunshine and lots of flowers.
I had this sort of mental picture of us kids having a chance to tell Mom how great of a job that she did, that she was a good mom, that she had raised good sons and that even though we would miss her desperately we would see her soon. I wanted her to know that she didn’t have to worry, that we would be OK because she raised us so well.
On TV that’s how it usually happens. You hold the persons hand, you tell them one last thing that you really wanted to say; they look at you, close their eyes and pass away.
It appears that, like much of this journey; that was wishful thinking.
They told us that the goal would be to get her comfortable, that we would manage her symptoms and allow this natural process to play out. I didn’t realize it at the time but the phrase “manage her symptoms” really meant get my mom stoned out of her mind. It was just one more euphemism to take the edge off of what is reality.
And so it was today that my mom has moved into what is called a medically induced coma. On one of the conference calls we had today we were told that her kidneys are failing and ultimately she would slip into a coma by this weekend if not sooner. Inducing it sooner is seen as an act of mercy. I had this sort of weird feeling. We were putting my mom to sleep.
It didn’t look like the pictures in the brochures or the movies, but I did get a chance to tell her many of the things I wanted to say. In between the painful moments last week I did have some time to hold her hand and tell her all the things that I wanted her to know. (including coming clean about streaking around the neighborhood with Troy Covey and Marcus Gonzales when I was 12) I’m just not sure how much she understood. She was in so much pain and so doped up.
It appears as though that the one thing I won’t get to say is goodbye. I was saving that one for the exact right time. (Again with the movies) When I left on Saturday I thought we had a few more weeks, I had planned to come back and say that a little closer to the time of her passing.
She was in so much pain, she was so afraid, so ridden with anxiety. Nobody could come up with a good reason for her to be told that we were doing this. She was slipping into a coma anyway. For the most part the toxins in her body combined with the morphine caused her to not understand what was going on. There was a moment this afternoon that she decided to get out of bed because she needed a loaf of bread.
As anticlimactic as it seems, they gave her some pills this afternoon and she went to sleep. She never even knew. Tonight she sleeps. She’ll sleep from here on out.
Her soul is locked in there somewhere but it will linger until her body says goodbye. I keep telling myself that this is the right thing and in my mind I know it is. But in my heart, I’m missing someone that is still here. I just can’t find her. She’s hidden in plain site.
As with many stops on this journey medical science has provided circumstances that I’m not sure about. Her spirit is here, her soul is here, but they’re trapped. They’re waiting patiently on a body to let them go.
I had this sort of mental picture of us kids having a chance to tell Mom how great of a job that she did, that she was a good mom, that she had raised good sons and that even though we would miss her desperately we would see her soon. I wanted her to know that she didn’t have to worry, that we would be OK because she raised us so well.
On TV that’s how it usually happens. You hold the persons hand, you tell them one last thing that you really wanted to say; they look at you, close their eyes and pass away.
It appears that, like much of this journey; that was wishful thinking.
They told us that the goal would be to get her comfortable, that we would manage her symptoms and allow this natural process to play out. I didn’t realize it at the time but the phrase “manage her symptoms” really meant get my mom stoned out of her mind. It was just one more euphemism to take the edge off of what is reality.
And so it was today that my mom has moved into what is called a medically induced coma. On one of the conference calls we had today we were told that her kidneys are failing and ultimately she would slip into a coma by this weekend if not sooner. Inducing it sooner is seen as an act of mercy. I had this sort of weird feeling. We were putting my mom to sleep.
It didn’t look like the pictures in the brochures or the movies, but I did get a chance to tell her many of the things I wanted to say. In between the painful moments last week I did have some time to hold her hand and tell her all the things that I wanted her to know. (including coming clean about streaking around the neighborhood with Troy Covey and Marcus Gonzales when I was 12) I’m just not sure how much she understood. She was in so much pain and so doped up.
It appears as though that the one thing I won’t get to say is goodbye. I was saving that one for the exact right time. (Again with the movies) When I left on Saturday I thought we had a few more weeks, I had planned to come back and say that a little closer to the time of her passing.
She was in so much pain, she was so afraid, so ridden with anxiety. Nobody could come up with a good reason for her to be told that we were doing this. She was slipping into a coma anyway. For the most part the toxins in her body combined with the morphine caused her to not understand what was going on. There was a moment this afternoon that she decided to get out of bed because she needed a loaf of bread.
As anticlimactic as it seems, they gave her some pills this afternoon and she went to sleep. She never even knew. Tonight she sleeps. She’ll sleep from here on out.
Her soul is locked in there somewhere but it will linger until her body says goodbye. I keep telling myself that this is the right thing and in my mind I know it is. But in my heart, I’m missing someone that is still here. I just can’t find her. She’s hidden in plain site.
As with many stops on this journey medical science has provided circumstances that I’m not sure about. Her spirit is here, her soul is here, but they’re trapped. They’re waiting patiently on a body to let them go.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Conduit August 11
I'm back in the saddle here in Nashville for the time being. I left Saturday night and drove straight home. I wanted to beat my personal land speed record between Grand Island, NE and Franklin, TN but that record will remain at 12 hours and 4 minutes. My attempt to beat it was defeated by a little something called common sense.
I was on the phone with my friend Chris Markgraf around midnight getting close to Mount Vernon, IL when I started hallucinating cows. I wish I could say I was kidding. I seriously swerved not once, but twice when I saw a cow that didn't exist.
I pulled over at a truck stop, laid my seat back. I was frustrated and didn't think I'd be able to sleep anyway, thought about getting back on the road. 2 hours later I shot straight up with no idea where I was, how I got there, and what to do about it. I'm not entirely sure how long it was before I figured out where I was, but it felt like a very long time.
You'd be surprised how awake you can get with the windows down, a large coffee, some sunflower seeds and Chicago's Greatest Hits on XM Radio. You would also be surprised at how big of a speeding ticket you could get. I thought about playing the sympathy card when the cop asked "are you heading to an emergency" but decided that this was useless. (besides it was at the Coopertown exit on I-24. those cops have been on the local Nashville news for their prowess in picking off guys like me)
I've lived this past week in the Word. It's very timely that we're going through how to approach the Word. I feel like I've learned some stuff, have heard directly from the Lord on some stuff, and want to share that stuff with you tonight.
As for updates on my personal journey, I'm taking that straight to the blog at www.darrentyler.com and keep them up through my personal facebook here. You can subscribe to the updates on the blog site. Thanks to eveyrone for your prayers, kind notes, emails, and for reaching out to my Wife and children these past 10 days.
God is still good. He never stopped. We'll talk about him tonight. His Word truly was a lamp unto my own feet these past 10 days.
Tonight at 7:30 at Journey Ecclesia at Building 8 in the Factory in Franklin, TN.
I was on the phone with my friend Chris Markgraf around midnight getting close to Mount Vernon, IL when I started hallucinating cows. I wish I could say I was kidding. I seriously swerved not once, but twice when I saw a cow that didn't exist.
I pulled over at a truck stop, laid my seat back. I was frustrated and didn't think I'd be able to sleep anyway, thought about getting back on the road. 2 hours later I shot straight up with no idea where I was, how I got there, and what to do about it. I'm not entirely sure how long it was before I figured out where I was, but it felt like a very long time.
You'd be surprised how awake you can get with the windows down, a large coffee, some sunflower seeds and Chicago's Greatest Hits on XM Radio. You would also be surprised at how big of a speeding ticket you could get. I thought about playing the sympathy card when the cop asked "are you heading to an emergency" but decided that this was useless. (besides it was at the Coopertown exit on I-24. those cops have been on the local Nashville news for their prowess in picking off guys like me)
I've lived this past week in the Word. It's very timely that we're going through how to approach the Word. I feel like I've learned some stuff, have heard directly from the Lord on some stuff, and want to share that stuff with you tonight.
As for updates on my personal journey, I'm taking that straight to the blog at www.darrentyler.com and keep them up through my personal facebook here. You can subscribe to the updates on the blog site. Thanks to eveyrone for your prayers, kind notes, emails, and for reaching out to my Wife and children these past 10 days.
God is still good. He never stopped. We'll talk about him tonight. His Word truly was a lamp unto my own feet these past 10 days.
Tonight at 7:30 at Journey Ecclesia at Building 8 in the Factory in Franklin, TN.
Friday, August 8, 2008
Tsunami
When we started this journey a wise doctor told us there are going to be good days and bad days. I think what he should have said is there will be bad days and worse nights.
Mom doesn’t want to be alone, especially a night. Death isn’t necessarily as scary as it was to me last week. It’s the the process of dying that’s a bitch. Dying alone? Well that brings her terror. We all know this, and so we’re surrounding her all day, and all night. Some well meaning person told me that we have to get her “trained” to be without us. This is my mom. She’s dying. I think I’ll pass on training her. '
I’ve officially lost all sense of time in this place and for my mom it’s worse. She’s gotten into a situation where she’s wide awake a 2am and wanting to read the paper and nodding off to sleep while eating lunch. We had to warm her lunch 3 times the other day because she kept falling asleep.
She was moved to a skilled care facility that will act as a hospice for her. Hospice is an intentionally well “semanticized” word for a place to die with dignity. It sounds much nicer, much more tranquil than what it is.
The lack of tranquility is not for a lack of trying. The tone here is different in that they pretty much give her what she wants within reason. At the hospital it was about managing the sickness, here it’s about managing the symptoms. It’s much more peaceful, much more melancholy.
There is an amazing lady here at the hospital whose only job is to help us circumnavigate this system and this process. It’s her job to get us to not only ask the hard questions, but the questions you didn’t even know you had. As best I can figure she is our personal dying concierge. It’s not exactly what I would have thought the angel of death would look like. She’s much smaller, much prettier, much nicer.
Her name is Teresa and for a job that could suck as bad as this one, she is amazing at it. It’s her job to sort of go through the questionnaire. For instance, if she goes into heart failure do we resuscitate? Sounds simple. But do we not resuscitate with chest compressions because it will likely break her ribs and revive her to a life of not only dying with cancer but also dying with cancer with broken ribs? And if not that, do we resuscitate her with electric shock? What if her kidneys fail, do we allow for them to do hemodialysis; which means she spends multiple hours a week hooked up to a machine. What if she stops eating? Do we put a feeding tube in her?
Or do we let her “go through this natural process” (her words not mine. ) They use the term “natural process” to take away the dark feeling of the word death. They seem to use semantics to take the edge off a lot around here.
These are questions no son should ever have to answer. Strangely having faith plays a sort of agitating role. What if we don’t’ revive her and God was going to heal her? Are making plans like this a sign of doubt? Are we reviving her to give God more time to do something that he clearly doesn’t need time to do?
I’m sort of dealing with a sliding scale on the hope side of things. Not speaking of eternal hope; the hope spoken of by the Word. I’m referring more to the hope of her getting up and walking away from this. Some of the hardest conversations are the ones where she is talking about the plans of going home, of how we’ll deal with the bathtub, or the money. I talk about her as if she’s going home, but inside I don’t think it’s true. For the time being it seems as if false hope is better than no hope. It’s hard not to cry during these conversations.
In the initial phase the hope for healing held more weight. As time has moved on the balance is shifting. I’ve moved from hoping for healing to hoping that her kidneys fail because that’s better than a heart attack. I can’t decide if it’s realism or pessimism or some combination. For sure it’s living life with lowered expectations and redefined success.
It begs the question can someone have Faith and still doubt. Can the two coexist? I mostly have questions, but in a facility built around semantics, it’s hard to distinguish what is doubt and what is questions and if they’re really two sides of the same coin.
The way I was raised was that questioning was doubt and doubt was sin. It would “tie Gods hands”. I’m aware that’s not true now. Can a human really tie the hands of God?
I’m still living in the tension between faith and doubt. Maybe the prayer that Peter prayed is appropriate. “Lord, help me with my unbelief”. That prayer didn’t seem to rattle His cage when Peter prayed it, maybe it won’t now.
Jesus did say that if I had faith the size of a mustard seed that I could move mountains. My mom has referred to this cancer as a mountain that she can’t climb which seems especially appropriate given that Jesus promise was to move it, not to make us climb it.
So even with a little bit of faith this is a mountain can be cast into the sea. I know my mom has at least a little bit of faith as do I.
I guess when I envisioned the mountain being thrown into the sea I never realized about the Tsunami that would follow.
Mom doesn’t want to be alone, especially a night. Death isn’t necessarily as scary as it was to me last week. It’s the the process of dying that’s a bitch. Dying alone? Well that brings her terror. We all know this, and so we’re surrounding her all day, and all night. Some well meaning person told me that we have to get her “trained” to be without us. This is my mom. She’s dying. I think I’ll pass on training her. '
I’ve officially lost all sense of time in this place and for my mom it’s worse. She’s gotten into a situation where she’s wide awake a 2am and wanting to read the paper and nodding off to sleep while eating lunch. We had to warm her lunch 3 times the other day because she kept falling asleep.
She was moved to a skilled care facility that will act as a hospice for her. Hospice is an intentionally well “semanticized” word for a place to die with dignity. It sounds much nicer, much more tranquil than what it is.
The lack of tranquility is not for a lack of trying. The tone here is different in that they pretty much give her what she wants within reason. At the hospital it was about managing the sickness, here it’s about managing the symptoms. It’s much more peaceful, much more melancholy.
There is an amazing lady here at the hospital whose only job is to help us circumnavigate this system and this process. It’s her job to get us to not only ask the hard questions, but the questions you didn’t even know you had. As best I can figure she is our personal dying concierge. It’s not exactly what I would have thought the angel of death would look like. She’s much smaller, much prettier, much nicer.
Her name is Teresa and for a job that could suck as bad as this one, she is amazing at it. It’s her job to sort of go through the questionnaire. For instance, if she goes into heart failure do we resuscitate? Sounds simple. But do we not resuscitate with chest compressions because it will likely break her ribs and revive her to a life of not only dying with cancer but also dying with cancer with broken ribs? And if not that, do we resuscitate her with electric shock? What if her kidneys fail, do we allow for them to do hemodialysis; which means she spends multiple hours a week hooked up to a machine. What if she stops eating? Do we put a feeding tube in her?
Or do we let her “go through this natural process” (her words not mine. ) They use the term “natural process” to take away the dark feeling of the word death. They seem to use semantics to take the edge off a lot around here.
These are questions no son should ever have to answer. Strangely having faith plays a sort of agitating role. What if we don’t’ revive her and God was going to heal her? Are making plans like this a sign of doubt? Are we reviving her to give God more time to do something that he clearly doesn’t need time to do?
I’m sort of dealing with a sliding scale on the hope side of things. Not speaking of eternal hope; the hope spoken of by the Word. I’m referring more to the hope of her getting up and walking away from this. Some of the hardest conversations are the ones where she is talking about the plans of going home, of how we’ll deal with the bathtub, or the money. I talk about her as if she’s going home, but inside I don’t think it’s true. For the time being it seems as if false hope is better than no hope. It’s hard not to cry during these conversations.
In the initial phase the hope for healing held more weight. As time has moved on the balance is shifting. I’ve moved from hoping for healing to hoping that her kidneys fail because that’s better than a heart attack. I can’t decide if it’s realism or pessimism or some combination. For sure it’s living life with lowered expectations and redefined success.
It begs the question can someone have Faith and still doubt. Can the two coexist? I mostly have questions, but in a facility built around semantics, it’s hard to distinguish what is doubt and what is questions and if they’re really two sides of the same coin.
The way I was raised was that questioning was doubt and doubt was sin. It would “tie Gods hands”. I’m aware that’s not true now. Can a human really tie the hands of God?
I’m still living in the tension between faith and doubt. Maybe the prayer that Peter prayed is appropriate. “Lord, help me with my unbelief”. That prayer didn’t seem to rattle His cage when Peter prayed it, maybe it won’t now.
Jesus did say that if I had faith the size of a mustard seed that I could move mountains. My mom has referred to this cancer as a mountain that she can’t climb which seems especially appropriate given that Jesus promise was to move it, not to make us climb it.
So even with a little bit of faith this is a mountain can be cast into the sea. I know my mom has at least a little bit of faith as do I.
I guess when I envisioned the mountain being thrown into the sea I never realized about the Tsunami that would follow.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Fat Man Running
Training for the half marathon was one of the harder things that I’ve done in the post skinny years of my life. I’ve said it before but it was the equivalent of strapping a couple of 20lb bags of potatoes on to the back of a skinny guy and running for miles. I ran in the snow, in the rain, in the cold, and mostly at night so as not to be embarrassed by letting my neighbors know that the “big’un” next door was taking on this task.
I was working like crazy. I was super committed. I felt like I was doing something that was so hard, so unique. I vividly remember my first long run. It was 8 miles and it was brutal. My legs were seizing up, my back hurt, my stomach hurt, and I thought I was going to throw up.
I remember when I was doing the long runs the first time I had a cramp. My initial thought, my go to response was to stop, sit down till it went away and then go home. It was then that I had this epiphany that real athletes take for granted as common knowledge: I could keep going. Push through the pain. It’s embarrassing to admit this, but that had never occurred to me before.
I had given myself this mental picture of how hard it was to pursue this, how difficult it would be. I had given myself this subjective amount of pain that I could take. The bad news was that I was wrong. It was way harder. I could take more. And here’s the worst part, I still wasn’t working hard enough. For me to get to the state that professional, heck even semi amateur athletes playing softball for the church league achieve I would have to dig deeper. And so I dug deep. (unfortunately I only had a little shovel)
I felt such a sense of accomplishment. I felt like I had accomplished something that few others would ever do. I found my inner stud and would soon see the pounds shedding, the six pack emerging, and would be walking around with my freshly shaved shirtless chest at the pool over the summer.
That was until the day I wandered into get my race number.
It was sometime around then that I realized 32,000 other people were unique just like me. As I was standing there waiting, I started doing the math that if there are hundreds of marathons around the nation, that there are literally hundreds of thousands of folks who went through exactly what I did and arguably with better results.
Initially my realization of how utterly not unique my experience was brought me down a few notches on the ego ladder. But then, after rethinking it, it brought me encouragement that if so many others could survive what I had deemed to be sheer torture. That If I just realized that this was “normal” training, that I could suck it up and make it through.
Paul used the analogy of an athlete. Even the judgment that believers will face some day in front of Jesus he referred to as the Bema Seat judgment in 2 Corinthians. The Bema Seat was the place on the finish line where the winners were declared as they competed in ancient Rome. If the finish line is standing before our Lord one day not in judgment for our sins, but rewards for our works then this side of Heaven is the race. Paul drew from Olympic competitions to paint a wonderful picture of life.
My friend Ryan Werner kicked butt in the Nashville marathon. I remember that he was kind of beating himself up a little bit for walking for a short distance. He still turned in an amazing time though. I guess I learned that it’s OK to walk for a little bit, maybe it’s even OK to sit down and take a break, but this is a race. I might hit the wall, but I’ve got to press on. I hope you will too.
There statistics are shocking… 10 out of 10 parents surveyed all admitted to dying some day. This is not the first time someone has gone through this, not the last time someone will go through it. It’s not the first time someone has watched a loved one die. This is another part of the race. It’s the part where the cramps start, the pain intensifies, and I could sit down and go home, or I could push through.
Today I’m choosing to push through this phase of the race, this state of suspended animation of hoping for a miracle and preparing for death. Sometimes in the marathon you're running by yourself and sometimes along side someone. My mom and I are both running our own races, but for now we're running side by side.
And should I start feeling alone in this again, it brings solace knowing that God Himself watched his own Son die a slow, painful death. He truly does know. And for my mom, this is her final stretch of her own race. I pray she finishes well.
I was working like crazy. I was super committed. I felt like I was doing something that was so hard, so unique. I vividly remember my first long run. It was 8 miles and it was brutal. My legs were seizing up, my back hurt, my stomach hurt, and I thought I was going to throw up.
I remember when I was doing the long runs the first time I had a cramp. My initial thought, my go to response was to stop, sit down till it went away and then go home. It was then that I had this epiphany that real athletes take for granted as common knowledge: I could keep going. Push through the pain. It’s embarrassing to admit this, but that had never occurred to me before.
I had given myself this mental picture of how hard it was to pursue this, how difficult it would be. I had given myself this subjective amount of pain that I could take. The bad news was that I was wrong. It was way harder. I could take more. And here’s the worst part, I still wasn’t working hard enough. For me to get to the state that professional, heck even semi amateur athletes playing softball for the church league achieve I would have to dig deeper. And so I dug deep. (unfortunately I only had a little shovel)
I felt such a sense of accomplishment. I felt like I had accomplished something that few others would ever do. I found my inner stud and would soon see the pounds shedding, the six pack emerging, and would be walking around with my freshly shaved shirtless chest at the pool over the summer.
That was until the day I wandered into get my race number.
It was sometime around then that I realized 32,000 other people were unique just like me. As I was standing there waiting, I started doing the math that if there are hundreds of marathons around the nation, that there are literally hundreds of thousands of folks who went through exactly what I did and arguably with better results.
Initially my realization of how utterly not unique my experience was brought me down a few notches on the ego ladder. But then, after rethinking it, it brought me encouragement that if so many others could survive what I had deemed to be sheer torture. That If I just realized that this was “normal” training, that I could suck it up and make it through.
Paul used the analogy of an athlete. Even the judgment that believers will face some day in front of Jesus he referred to as the Bema Seat judgment in 2 Corinthians. The Bema Seat was the place on the finish line where the winners were declared as they competed in ancient Rome. If the finish line is standing before our Lord one day not in judgment for our sins, but rewards for our works then this side of Heaven is the race. Paul drew from Olympic competitions to paint a wonderful picture of life.
My friend Ryan Werner kicked butt in the Nashville marathon. I remember that he was kind of beating himself up a little bit for walking for a short distance. He still turned in an amazing time though. I guess I learned that it’s OK to walk for a little bit, maybe it’s even OK to sit down and take a break, but this is a race. I might hit the wall, but I’ve got to press on. I hope you will too.
There statistics are shocking… 10 out of 10 parents surveyed all admitted to dying some day. This is not the first time someone has gone through this, not the last time someone will go through it. It’s not the first time someone has watched a loved one die. This is another part of the race. It’s the part where the cramps start, the pain intensifies, and I could sit down and go home, or I could push through.
Today I’m choosing to push through this phase of the race, this state of suspended animation of hoping for a miracle and preparing for death. Sometimes in the marathon you're running by yourself and sometimes along side someone. My mom and I are both running our own races, but for now we're running side by side.
And should I start feeling alone in this again, it brings solace knowing that God Himself watched his own Son die a slow, painful death. He truly does know. And for my mom, this is her final stretch of her own race. I pray she finishes well.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Some Helpful Advice For God?
I’ve been spending most of my days and nights in the fashionable yet functional furniture at the hospital room with my mother. AKA The Hotel California
It’s almost like they read the playbook from the folks who make RVs. Everything seems to fold out into something that you can sleep on. It’s sort of institutional but with the color schemes like one of those Trading Spaces kinds of shows might choose. Nothing too gaudy, but nothing you would do to your own home given the choice.
She’s got one of those beds like the Craftmatic Ajdustible beds on steroids. More accurately it’s like the Optimus Prime of beds. I keep waiting for it to start unfolding into a giant bed looking robot ready to fight the crime that is sweeping the streets of Grand Island, Nebraska. Which incidentally is neither grand nor an island.
And so it was that I sat with my mom for a few hours yesterday evening. It was I on the folodmatic couch table and her on Optimus Prime. She slept there for hours; which is something that she hasn’t done much of this past week. The pain that she is experiencing is so extreme that it requires what can best be described as a buffet of drugs. Almost enough to constitute an appetizer.
The upside is that she can exist without excruciating pain for those moments. The cruel twist is that even though she is here, she is not. When she is most “here” she’s in so much pain that she’s not here either.
The cancer spread to the lymph nodes in her spinal area and so she cannot for any reason lay flat on her back without agonizing pain. There is exactly one position that she can be in that gives her comfort. It requires somewhat of a team effort to get the bed adjusted into just the right position and then a series of pillows placed in just the right spots. It’s more art than science, and sometimes requires a few shots before getting it just right.
The worst times are when we get her situated perfectly to only realize she needs to go to the bathroom and the production starts all over again. She dreads this so much, and it breaks my heart every time because it’s so painful. I’ve been in hospitals where you can hear someone screaming in pain down the hall and you wonder what is going on. Now I know.
As I sat and watched her sleep last night, I realized that I had never done that before. I wondered if she had ever done that to me when I was younger like I do my children from time to time. I wondered what she was dreaming about, if at all. As much as I wanted to talk to her, she wasn’t there.
She was breathing really heavily. Deep, slow breaths. She didn’t seem strained. She almost seemed peaceful. She doesn’t get much in the form of peace right now, so it was kind of nice to see her like that. Each breath was a reminder that she was still here. She was still alive.
I watched her for quite a while. I was talking to God and giving him some suggestions on how to run the planet starting with my mother. It’s a situation like this when I could certainly see how God could show Himself. One of the people that stopped by this week said: “if it were possible then it wouldn’t be a miracle.” That really stuck with me. It really seemed to make sense. I wondered if God might find it helpful as well.
Bottom line is that this is a stage 5 Malignant Mullerian Tumor. I have heard the terms “futile”, “hopeless”, and “too far gone” over and over again this week. If I were God this would seem like such a great time to show up, do one of those big miracles that He did in the Bible, get it on the news and let everyone know how amazing I am.
There are those folks who don’t believe that He is good. Why not defend yourself God? You did it in the Old Testament from time to time. Instead of one of those dubious healings of a back ache or a leg shorter than the other, how about a big ticket item like a Stage 5 cancer with no hope. That would certainly prove something. Mom could go on Fox News and we could give you some great PR.
I prayed there that God would allow her to wake up and heal her right there.
She kept sleeping.
It’s almost like they read the playbook from the folks who make RVs. Everything seems to fold out into something that you can sleep on. It’s sort of institutional but with the color schemes like one of those Trading Spaces kinds of shows might choose. Nothing too gaudy, but nothing you would do to your own home given the choice.
She’s got one of those beds like the Craftmatic Ajdustible beds on steroids. More accurately it’s like the Optimus Prime of beds. I keep waiting for it to start unfolding into a giant bed looking robot ready to fight the crime that is sweeping the streets of Grand Island, Nebraska. Which incidentally is neither grand nor an island.
And so it was that I sat with my mom for a few hours yesterday evening. It was I on the folodmatic couch table and her on Optimus Prime. She slept there for hours; which is something that she hasn’t done much of this past week. The pain that she is experiencing is so extreme that it requires what can best be described as a buffet of drugs. Almost enough to constitute an appetizer.
The upside is that she can exist without excruciating pain for those moments. The cruel twist is that even though she is here, she is not. When she is most “here” she’s in so much pain that she’s not here either.
The cancer spread to the lymph nodes in her spinal area and so she cannot for any reason lay flat on her back without agonizing pain. There is exactly one position that she can be in that gives her comfort. It requires somewhat of a team effort to get the bed adjusted into just the right position and then a series of pillows placed in just the right spots. It’s more art than science, and sometimes requires a few shots before getting it just right.
The worst times are when we get her situated perfectly to only realize she needs to go to the bathroom and the production starts all over again. She dreads this so much, and it breaks my heart every time because it’s so painful. I’ve been in hospitals where you can hear someone screaming in pain down the hall and you wonder what is going on. Now I know.
As I sat and watched her sleep last night, I realized that I had never done that before. I wondered if she had ever done that to me when I was younger like I do my children from time to time. I wondered what she was dreaming about, if at all. As much as I wanted to talk to her, she wasn’t there.
She was breathing really heavily. Deep, slow breaths. She didn’t seem strained. She almost seemed peaceful. She doesn’t get much in the form of peace right now, so it was kind of nice to see her like that. Each breath was a reminder that she was still here. She was still alive.
I watched her for quite a while. I was talking to God and giving him some suggestions on how to run the planet starting with my mother. It’s a situation like this when I could certainly see how God could show Himself. One of the people that stopped by this week said: “if it were possible then it wouldn’t be a miracle.” That really stuck with me. It really seemed to make sense. I wondered if God might find it helpful as well.
Bottom line is that this is a stage 5 Malignant Mullerian Tumor. I have heard the terms “futile”, “hopeless”, and “too far gone” over and over again this week. If I were God this would seem like such a great time to show up, do one of those big miracles that He did in the Bible, get it on the news and let everyone know how amazing I am.
There are those folks who don’t believe that He is good. Why not defend yourself God? You did it in the Old Testament from time to time. Instead of one of those dubious healings of a back ache or a leg shorter than the other, how about a big ticket item like a Stage 5 cancer with no hope. That would certainly prove something. Mom could go on Fox News and we could give you some great PR.
I prayed there that God would allow her to wake up and heal her right there.
She kept sleeping.
Monday, August 4, 2008
Conduit Aug 4- Resurrection
In my last blog I said that my mother was handed a "death sentence". It was a term I used intentionally because that's really what our doc was using medial terms to say.
So imagine my surprise when I visited a church yesterday and the Pastor read this:
2 Corinthians 1:8We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about the hardships we suffered in the province of Asia. We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired even of life. 9Indeed, in our hearts we felt the SENTENCE OF DEATH.(emphasis mine) But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead. 10He has delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will continue to deliver us, 11as you help us by your prayers. Then many will give thanks on our[a] behalf for the gracious favor granted us in answer to the prayers of many.
I just thought it fascinating that those very words "sentence of death" were the words Paul used in describing his hardships.
I love the next line right after that. He calls God the one who "raises the dead".
Not coincidentally I've been reading the book Surprised By Hope by N.T. Wright. Subtitle: Rethinking Heaven, The Resurrection, and the Mission of the Church.
I am relying on the God who raises the dead. He will deliver my mother. And ultimately I will leave it up to Him to define what "deliverance" looks like.
I truly believe that I don't know more than God, and thus it is nonsense for me to order him around to do my bidding. He sees things I can not possibly see, knows things I can not possibly know and thus I'm uniquely OK with how he defines deliverance.
Not dying is not defeating death. It's cheating death, alluding death, avoiding death our putting off death. But DEFEATING death is resurrection. You and I, just like Jesus already did, will one day rise again from the dead.
1 Cor 15: 54 When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: "Death has been swallowed up in victory."[g]
Paul told the Corinthians says that for now I see through a glass darkly. I get in trouble when I think I can see it clearly and figure it out on my own. I don't know if you've ever tried driving around with your windows fogged up, but that's a recipe for disaster.
Like Ephesians says, I've made my requests known. I've made my prayers and supplications. And I'm fully prepared that "no" is just as much of an answer as "yes" is. My kids are uniquely aware of this concept with their father as well.
At the beach last month my daughter Ashleigh was convinced that she wanted to stay in the condo so she could watch Sponge Bob while the beach literally was 100 yards away. I mean, sure Sponge Bob is great and who can blame her for wanting to not miss the ending, but the beach was so close. I literally had to force her out of what she thought was such an amazing existence into the world just outside her door that included the amazing white sands of Destin, the clear waters of the gulf, and peace and tranquility.
Paul was torn between life and eternity. I've got a front row seat to this very dilemma. As good as it is here in the "condo" known as earth, the beach awaits.
Paul said that the people of Corinth helped him by their prayers. I get that too. So many of you have written me and shared your own stories. Cancer is an evil that has plagues so many millions. I truly am not alone.
So many have written just to say that they're praying for us. I've shared them with my mom and it has amazed her and strengthened her. (it's also possible that she's just fascinated that her little dorky son actually has so many friends) I appreciate all of your thoughts and prayers.
Honestly I even appreciate the emails offering to correct my theology. In a strange way even those are encouraging to me that people are at least thinking about me enough to show me where you think I'm wrong. ☺
Thanks to Lori Hughes for sharing with me. You just went through this very journey. It's been amazing to have your insight.
Thanks to Cheryl Hurley and your family for sharing with me your wisdom as you are currently on this very journey. Your words have meant a lot to my mother.
And thanks to Laurie Anderson. I know you've made many trips to Minneapolis for a situation that is not the same but similar. Your words are encouraging.
Peggy Warny in San Diego. Your email strengthened my mom so much.
I wish my wrists didn't hurt from so much typing, I would thank all of you by name. Just know that I appreciated you all.
And just like always, just like with Paul said in vs 11, "many will give thanks on our behalf for the gracious favor granted us in answer to the prayers of many".
I hope you don't mind me dropping these notes here. I'm not on a pity search. It's sort of cathartic for me, and perhaps someone could be encouraged as I live this journey openly.
If you're in the Franklin area tonight at 7:30pm please join Philip Peters and Jeremy Hezlep for The Conduit. As always it's at Journey Ecclessia in Building 8 at The Factory. I'm not there, but the work of the Kingdom continues. I'm not nearly that important that God "needs" me there for Conduit to work. Conduit is about you silly.
Blessings,
Darren
www.myspace.com/conduitbiblestudy
www.darrentyler.podomatic.com
1 Corinthians 15: 35But someone may ask, "How are the dead raised? With what kind of body will they come?" 36How foolish! What you sow does not come to life unless it dies. 37When you sow, you do not plant the body that will be, but just a seed, perhaps of wheat or of something else. 38But God gives it a body as he has determined, and to each kind of seed he gives its own body. 39All flesh is not the same: Men have one kind of flesh, animals have another, birds another and fish another. 40There are also heavenly bodies and there are earthly bodies; but the splendor of the heavenly bodies is one kind, and the splendor of the earthly bodies is another. 41The sun has one kind of splendor, the moon another and the stars another; and star differs from star in splendor.
1 Corinthians 15: 42So will it be with the resurrection of the dead. The body that is sown is perishable, it is raised imperishable; 43it is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power; 44it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body.
If there is a natural body, there is also a spiritual body. 45So it is written: "The first man Adam became a living being"[e]; the last Adam, a life-giving spirit. 46The spiritual did not come first, but the natural, and after that the spiritual. 47The first man was of the dust of the earth, the second man from heaven. 48As was the earthly man, so are those who are of the earth; and as is the man from heaven, so also are those who are of heaven. 49And just as we have borne the likeness of the earthly man, so shall we[f] bear the likeness of the man from heaven.
50I declare to you, brothers, that flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable. 51Listen, I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed- 52in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. 53For the perishable must clothe itself with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality. 54When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: "Death has been swallowed up in victory."[g]
55"Where, O death, is your victory?
Where, O death, is your sting?"[h] 56The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. 57But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.
58Therefore, my dear brothers, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain.
So imagine my surprise when I visited a church yesterday and the Pastor read this:
2 Corinthians 1:8We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about the hardships we suffered in the province of Asia. We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired even of life. 9Indeed, in our hearts we felt the SENTENCE OF DEATH.(emphasis mine) But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead. 10He has delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will continue to deliver us, 11as you help us by your prayers. Then many will give thanks on our[a] behalf for the gracious favor granted us in answer to the prayers of many.
I just thought it fascinating that those very words "sentence of death" were the words Paul used in describing his hardships.
I love the next line right after that. He calls God the one who "raises the dead".
Not coincidentally I've been reading the book Surprised By Hope by N.T. Wright. Subtitle: Rethinking Heaven, The Resurrection, and the Mission of the Church.
I am relying on the God who raises the dead. He will deliver my mother. And ultimately I will leave it up to Him to define what "deliverance" looks like.
I truly believe that I don't know more than God, and thus it is nonsense for me to order him around to do my bidding. He sees things I can not possibly see, knows things I can not possibly know and thus I'm uniquely OK with how he defines deliverance.
Not dying is not defeating death. It's cheating death, alluding death, avoiding death our putting off death. But DEFEATING death is resurrection. You and I, just like Jesus already did, will one day rise again from the dead.
1 Cor 15: 54 When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: "Death has been swallowed up in victory."[g]
Paul told the Corinthians says that for now I see through a glass darkly. I get in trouble when I think I can see it clearly and figure it out on my own. I don't know if you've ever tried driving around with your windows fogged up, but that's a recipe for disaster.
Like Ephesians says, I've made my requests known. I've made my prayers and supplications. And I'm fully prepared that "no" is just as much of an answer as "yes" is. My kids are uniquely aware of this concept with their father as well.
At the beach last month my daughter Ashleigh was convinced that she wanted to stay in the condo so she could watch Sponge Bob while the beach literally was 100 yards away. I mean, sure Sponge Bob is great and who can blame her for wanting to not miss the ending, but the beach was so close. I literally had to force her out of what she thought was such an amazing existence into the world just outside her door that included the amazing white sands of Destin, the clear waters of the gulf, and peace and tranquility.
Paul was torn between life and eternity. I've got a front row seat to this very dilemma. As good as it is here in the "condo" known as earth, the beach awaits.
Paul said that the people of Corinth helped him by their prayers. I get that too. So many of you have written me and shared your own stories. Cancer is an evil that has plagues so many millions. I truly am not alone.
So many have written just to say that they're praying for us. I've shared them with my mom and it has amazed her and strengthened her. (it's also possible that she's just fascinated that her little dorky son actually has so many friends) I appreciate all of your thoughts and prayers.
Honestly I even appreciate the emails offering to correct my theology. In a strange way even those are encouraging to me that people are at least thinking about me enough to show me where you think I'm wrong. ☺
Thanks to Lori Hughes for sharing with me. You just went through this very journey. It's been amazing to have your insight.
Thanks to Cheryl Hurley and your family for sharing with me your wisdom as you are currently on this very journey. Your words have meant a lot to my mother.
And thanks to Laurie Anderson. I know you've made many trips to Minneapolis for a situation that is not the same but similar. Your words are encouraging.
Peggy Warny in San Diego. Your email strengthened my mom so much.
I wish my wrists didn't hurt from so much typing, I would thank all of you by name. Just know that I appreciated you all.
And just like always, just like with Paul said in vs 11, "many will give thanks on our behalf for the gracious favor granted us in answer to the prayers of many".
I hope you don't mind me dropping these notes here. I'm not on a pity search. It's sort of cathartic for me, and perhaps someone could be encouraged as I live this journey openly.
If you're in the Franklin area tonight at 7:30pm please join Philip Peters and Jeremy Hezlep for The Conduit. As always it's at Journey Ecclessia in Building 8 at The Factory. I'm not there, but the work of the Kingdom continues. I'm not nearly that important that God "needs" me there for Conduit to work. Conduit is about you silly.
Blessings,
Darren
www.myspace.com/conduitbiblestudy
www.darrentyler.podomatic.com
1 Corinthians 15: 35But someone may ask, "How are the dead raised? With what kind of body will they come?" 36How foolish! What you sow does not come to life unless it dies. 37When you sow, you do not plant the body that will be, but just a seed, perhaps of wheat or of something else. 38But God gives it a body as he has determined, and to each kind of seed he gives its own body. 39All flesh is not the same: Men have one kind of flesh, animals have another, birds another and fish another. 40There are also heavenly bodies and there are earthly bodies; but the splendor of the heavenly bodies is one kind, and the splendor of the earthly bodies is another. 41The sun has one kind of splendor, the moon another and the stars another; and star differs from star in splendor.
1 Corinthians 15: 42So will it be with the resurrection of the dead. The body that is sown is perishable, it is raised imperishable; 43it is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power; 44it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body.
If there is a natural body, there is also a spiritual body. 45So it is written: "The first man Adam became a living being"[e]; the last Adam, a life-giving spirit. 46The spiritual did not come first, but the natural, and after that the spiritual. 47The first man was of the dust of the earth, the second man from heaven. 48As was the earthly man, so are those who are of the earth; and as is the man from heaven, so also are those who are of heaven. 49And just as we have borne the likeness of the earthly man, so shall we[f] bear the likeness of the man from heaven.
50I declare to you, brothers, that flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable. 51Listen, I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed- 52in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. 53For the perishable must clothe itself with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality. 54When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: "Death has been swallowed up in victory."[g]
55"Where, O death, is your victory?
Where, O death, is your sting?"[h] 56The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. 57But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.
58Therefore, my dear brothers, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain.
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Conduit August 4- Cancer Sucks
My mother was handed a death sentence yesterday. She got the losing ticket in the cancer lottery: Carcinosarcoma. It’s a cancer so rare that Microsoft doesn’t even recognize it as a word in spell check. It is aggressive and non responsive to treatment. It has already attacked her kidneys, uterus, and has moved to her lymph nodes.
Early diagnosis would have certainly been a better option but my parents don’t have health insurance nor do they have money and so like millions of other Americans there are no annual physicals or exams that would have caught this early. We live in a great country but our healthcare system is damnable to be sure. The folks like myself who are lucky enough to have insurance have access to some of the finest healthcare in the world. But the unlucky ones like my own mom are SOL.
It’s quite probable that she has had this for years. Which allowed it to slowly, systematically and aggressively take over. It is inoperable and worse they’ve given us a prognosis that Chemo is at best going through the motions in that it will shrink the cancer by a small portion. The philosophical question of how much suffering is worth a couple more months on earth.
I would love to have one of those really huge miracles that I’ve heard about on TV but never seen. I can see how people get desperate enough to drive across the country to a “healing crusade”. Most of whom go away empty handed. I’m looking very diligently to find God in this moment. To find what He is doing, and where He is moving. If He has a miracle up His sleeve; now would certainly be a good time.
From the inside of a prison cell, Paul wrote the book of Philippians. From the dank, dark, human rights violating basement of a Roman prison he wrote some of the scriptures that you and I quote and lean most heavily on.
At a moment when I personally would have asked to be put on the prayer list to get the heck out of prison Paul said his prayer was not for himself, but instead for the people of Philippi. “Being confident of this very thing, that he which hath begun a good work in you will perform [it] until the day of Jesus Christ: Even as it is meet for me to think this of you all, because I have you in my heart; inasmuch as both in my bonds, and in the defense and confirmation of the gospel, ye all are partakers of my grace.” In taking Paul's lead, I'm praying that for you.
I’m not very good at this, and to be clear, I’m struggling to find God in this. Perhaps this is the kind of thing where I’ll find Him in hindsight. Watching my mother look her own father and mother in the eyes with their own failing health knowing that she will likely beat them to heaven has been just plain difficult.
Paul also wrote to the Philippians to rejoice in the Lord always. I am not rejoicing in cancer. It’s not happy. How can I rejoice in the Lord and grieve for my mother? I’m not sure yet. Perhaps that’s where faith comes in. Perhaps I have some growing to do.
And as much frustration as I feel right now. As many questions as I am facing about God and His intentions, deep down I know it’s not true. I know that He is good.
I certainly don’t understand. I know that it’s the enemy that comes to kill, steal and destroy. But whether God allows it or causes it; right now it feels like the same thing.
But Paul closed out his letter to Philippians with a prayer to that there is a peace that transcends understanding that could be theirs. He is promising that there is a peace that doesn't come FROM understanding. Rather it transcends understanding. I don't have to understand to have this peace.
I don’t know how to face my mom, how to look her in the eye and be strong for her. And to that Paul said that I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.
And so my prayer is Phl 4:12 I know both how to be abased, and I know how to abound: every where and in all things I am instructed both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need. I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.
Philip Peters and Jeremy Hezlep will be carrying the torch for Conduit on Monday night. I know Philip has some great stuff from the Word to share with you and that worship will be great as well. I won’t be there, but if you don’t mind, say a prayer for me.
I really do want my mom healed. God knows this. I’ve asked Him personally. But should He choose another option; then I’ll find peace. So maybe your prayer is that God can be glorified, that we can be a witness here at this hospital. That what the enemy has meant for harm, that God will use for good. And just like Jesus prayed in the garden, that if this cup could pass from us, then please take it away. Nevertheless, not my will but Thy will be done.
My mom keeps asking if there is hope. There is. His name is Jesus.
Early diagnosis would have certainly been a better option but my parents don’t have health insurance nor do they have money and so like millions of other Americans there are no annual physicals or exams that would have caught this early. We live in a great country but our healthcare system is damnable to be sure. The folks like myself who are lucky enough to have insurance have access to some of the finest healthcare in the world. But the unlucky ones like my own mom are SOL.
It’s quite probable that she has had this for years. Which allowed it to slowly, systematically and aggressively take over. It is inoperable and worse they’ve given us a prognosis that Chemo is at best going through the motions in that it will shrink the cancer by a small portion. The philosophical question of how much suffering is worth a couple more months on earth.
I would love to have one of those really huge miracles that I’ve heard about on TV but never seen. I can see how people get desperate enough to drive across the country to a “healing crusade”. Most of whom go away empty handed. I’m looking very diligently to find God in this moment. To find what He is doing, and where He is moving. If He has a miracle up His sleeve; now would certainly be a good time.
From the inside of a prison cell, Paul wrote the book of Philippians. From the dank, dark, human rights violating basement of a Roman prison he wrote some of the scriptures that you and I quote and lean most heavily on.
At a moment when I personally would have asked to be put on the prayer list to get the heck out of prison Paul said his prayer was not for himself, but instead for the people of Philippi. “Being confident of this very thing, that he which hath begun a good work in you will perform [it] until the day of Jesus Christ: Even as it is meet for me to think this of you all, because I have you in my heart; inasmuch as both in my bonds, and in the defense and confirmation of the gospel, ye all are partakers of my grace.” In taking Paul's lead, I'm praying that for you.
I’m not very good at this, and to be clear, I’m struggling to find God in this. Perhaps this is the kind of thing where I’ll find Him in hindsight. Watching my mother look her own father and mother in the eyes with their own failing health knowing that she will likely beat them to heaven has been just plain difficult.
Paul also wrote to the Philippians to rejoice in the Lord always. I am not rejoicing in cancer. It’s not happy. How can I rejoice in the Lord and grieve for my mother? I’m not sure yet. Perhaps that’s where faith comes in. Perhaps I have some growing to do.
And as much frustration as I feel right now. As many questions as I am facing about God and His intentions, deep down I know it’s not true. I know that He is good.
I certainly don’t understand. I know that it’s the enemy that comes to kill, steal and destroy. But whether God allows it or causes it; right now it feels like the same thing.
But Paul closed out his letter to Philippians with a prayer to that there is a peace that transcends understanding that could be theirs. He is promising that there is a peace that doesn't come FROM understanding. Rather it transcends understanding. I don't have to understand to have this peace.
I don’t know how to face my mom, how to look her in the eye and be strong for her. And to that Paul said that I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.
And so my prayer is Phl 4:12 I know both how to be abased, and I know how to abound: every where and in all things I am instructed both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need. I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.
Philip Peters and Jeremy Hezlep will be carrying the torch for Conduit on Monday night. I know Philip has some great stuff from the Word to share with you and that worship will be great as well. I won’t be there, but if you don’t mind, say a prayer for me.
I really do want my mom healed. God knows this. I’ve asked Him personally. But should He choose another option; then I’ll find peace. So maybe your prayer is that God can be glorified, that we can be a witness here at this hospital. That what the enemy has meant for harm, that God will use for good. And just like Jesus prayed in the garden, that if this cup could pass from us, then please take it away. Nevertheless, not my will but Thy will be done.
My mom keeps asking if there is hope. There is. His name is Jesus.
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