The Last Anniversary
My wife of 33 years died on our anniversary on Saturday, August 9Th. Eleven years ago, we had celebrated our anniversary days after her first surgery for brain cancer.
My wife was an extraordinary person. Over 350 people turned out for her funeral. Her love for her family and friends, her courage, and her ruthless trust in God are a few of the things that defined her. She was known in this small town for her beautiful smile and her positive attitude.
A couple of weeks before her death, and before her speech went, she told me she didn't want to leave me. We talked about how we had been able to be together every day since her second surgery 3 years ago. I told her we could have spent a lifetime together and, if she would have been healthy, may have not spent that much time together. She also said she wasn't dying, she was living. She always said she could not ask "Why me" without asking "Why not me." The priest at our little Episcopal church told of her many trips to the altar rail during our Wednesday evening healing service. Never once did she ask anything for herself, but always asked for prayers of strength for me and our boys.
I was able to keep her at home, and she died surrounded by our boys, two daughters-in-laws, and her best friend. It was hard. The hardest thing I have ever experienced. But, I would not trade those days for anything.
Her funeral was held at 5:30 in the afternoon on August 12. The burial at the cemetery wrapped up just as the sun was setting.
I will miss her dearly.
Fiery Trials
As Christians, if we suffer long enough, or if "friends" and/or "Christians" don't understand or agree with our suffering, meaning suffering is something they can't handle for whatever reason or reasons, we sometimes find ourselves alone. In my own case, this can be an opportunity to identify more closely with Christ, who himself died alone.
Jesus never condemns us in our suffering. He never tells us that we have no idea about real suffering, given the suffering He endured on the cross.
Rather, Jesus comes along side us, and shares in our suffering, as we mystically share in His.
"Friends, when life gets really difficult, don't jump to the conclusion that God isn't on the job. Instead, be glad that you are in the very thick of what Christ experienced. This is a spiritual refining process, with glory just around the corner." I Peter 4: 12,13 The Message
My circle of friends has gotten very small as my wife and I have suffered. I take comfort in the communion of saints. We have, by God's mercy, been able to "have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge - that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God (Ephesians 3:18,19 NIV)."
The Birthday Present
This past Saturday was my wife's birthday. Her only wish was to go eat a late breakfast at a diner in an old strip mall. This was quite an undertaking, as her brain tumor has caused her considerable trouble walking.
Debra insisted on using her four-pronged cane to walk into the diner, and she did so with her ever present smile in place. We shared a wonderful time together. As I went to the front to pay, she began making her way to join me. An older gentlemen stopped her and told her he was inspired by her attitude and determination. I overheard him ask her what was wrong - had she been in an accident or something. She told him she had a brain tumor.
By this time, I had joined this man and my wife, and he introduced us to his wife. He explained that they had moved into the area to be closer to his son and his family, and he was the associate pastor of the Church of Christ. He asked my wife and I if he and his wife could pray for us, and after saying yes, we joined hands in the middle of this little diner and he prayed.
I don't remember much of what he prayed, as thoughts of gratitude were flowing through me. Didn't he know we were Episcopalians? What business would a conservative Church of Christ pastor have with some liberal Episcopalians? He didn't ask if, or where, we went to church. He just saw a need and he prayed, no questions asked.
We have lived in this small town all of our married lives, except for the college years, and we know many people. Ten years ago to the day, on Debra's birthday in 1997, she was in the hospital having seizure after seizure, as we tried to decide a course of treatment for her newly diagnosed brain tumor. This was the first time in all of these years that someone had offered to pray for her on the spot that I can remember, and outside of a church setting for sure.
We had planned to be in Austin for her birthday, as Debra was to start another round of chemotherapy on Monday. She had been wanting to visit our youngest son, but had not been able to because of her low white blood counts. A last minute request from another son to watch his dog had kept us in town. There is no doubt in my mind that God arranged for the four of us to be in that diner - we needed encouragement in the worst way. I thank God for Pastor Perry and his wife. Christ himself was telling us that he is aware of our circumstances and struggles. Pastor Perry and his wife were the vessels he used that day. What a birthday present from a creator who doesn't miss a sparrow falling to the ground.
Changed Lives
I was visiting with an old friend on the telephone yesterday. Jerry is some thirty years my senior, and I consider him one of my closest friends. When I was in high school, several of us guys converted to Christianity. Jerry used to have us over to his home every Sunday night for some conversation and Bible study. Jerry had recently converted to Christianity, and he talked with us as equals.
Yesterday, Jerry was telling me how he came to believe in Jesus. His wife, Jean, had converted first, and he was watching her from a distance, so to speak. What got his attention was the change he began to see in Jean, and the other new Christians she was meeting with.
Changed lives. The result of the Gospel, the Good News. Not the substituting of one set of rules and regulations for another, but a change in, and of, the heart. The "power of the gospel" showing up as changed lives, "rooted and grounded in love." A relationship with the Christ, an historical figure who lived, was crucified, died, and was resurrected some two thousand years ago.
I am always amazed how all of life, and I mean all of life, is found, expessed, and summed up in the person of Jesus Christ. This overused phrase, "changed lives," means allot of different things to different people, but in my experience, there is a certain aroma surrounding the real deal.
I'm glad Jerry was, and is, around to bear witness to the power of God as revealed through Jesus Christ.
Don't Be Afraid
Stephanie is the last person I would expect to see in the "chemo room" of a neuro-oncologist's office in Dallas, but there she was, sitting in a recliner, hooked up to a bag of a new chemotherapy drug for brain tumor patients. She is young, married, and has twin seven year olds. In the last year, Stephanie has had brain surgery, radiation therapy, and chemotherapy.
My wife has a primary brain tumor, and she has been fighting it for 9 1/2 years. She had gotten some pretty bad news the week earlier - part of her tumor had come back in a more aggressive form. Part of it had come back less aggressive, but that part is slowly infiltrating her brain stem. Having been through 2 brain surgeries, 3 different chemotherapy treatments, and radiation therapy, her treatment options are limited. She can choose focal radiation, called the Gamma Knife, to treat the aggressive part, and she can do another round of one of the same chemotherapy drugs and risk that the tumor has become resistant to those drugs. Or, she can take a newer, more aggressive chemotherapy drug, with all sorts of side effects, including bleeding into her tumor, which could be fatal.
My wife's cancer is in the left frontal lobe of her brain, where her decision making takes place, so I have to help her make the decision on what course of action to choose. I was wary of giving my wife something that might kill her. We talked to other doctors and friends, and we prayed for guidance. However, I still didn't feel sure about one course of action over the other.
When we arrived at the neuro-oncologist's office, we were still undecided, though we were leaning towards one of the known chemotherapy drugs. A PET Scan done the previous week confirmed what the doctor and the MRI had suggested - her tumor was fast-growing, and it was getting into the brain stem.
We finally decided on the more aggressive chemotherapy, and so we headed down the hall to the "chemo room." Which brings me back to Stephanie.
Stephanie told us about herself, and how the new chemotherapy seemed to be working. She comforted my wife as she began feeling wierd as the drugs flowed into her. There was, and is, something about Stephanie that I can't explain - she is so "alive".
Stephanie had some books open on her lap, including her Bible, and I asked her if she was reading anything interesting. She told us she was catching up on the daily devotions written by Charles Stanley, which was my wife's favorite daily guide before she got so sick. Stephanie began to read us the scriptures that went with each daily devotion, and then the devotion itself. At one point, as she was reading, tears streamed down her face, and she told us her relationship with Christ was so personal to her.
I don't understand it, but I know God had Stephanie in that room to help us out. For me, God was confirming that He is with us, which is wierd, because if that's true, He could heal Stephanie and my wife in the blink of an eye. Similar situations and encounters have happened to us several times. Could God be interested in something more than a quick fix - like trust, and community?
Oh, and Stephanie read me the story about Jairus and his sick daughter and how, when Jesus had been told of the daughter's death, He told Jairus, "Don't be afraid; just believe."
Stephanie said that was for me.
Avoidance Technique
Before Easter, Good Friday. Before joy, suffering.
Until this last year, I have viewed suffering as something to be avoided. I have tried to avoid suffering, yet I suffer. And still, I find myself trying to avoid it.
Some of my suffering is the result of my own bad choices and sin. Some of my suffering is caused by events beyond my control. My solution, though, is usually the same - try to avoid suffering.
I have tried looking for the right formula. Maybe more prayer, or bible reading; or watching television, or exercising. Yet, all of these things, many of them good in and of themselves, are aimed at relieving the symptoms of suffering - hopelessness, depression, judgementalism, and generally just being too hard on myself and others. They do nothing to stem the suffering itself.
I am seeing, though dimly, another way. The way of embracing my suffering. And, when possible, offering my suffering up to God.
Release versus relief. Release of God's Spirit in my life. This is risky, as I have to lay down my shovel and stop digging my own cisterns. As I quit digging my own cisterns, and become still, I may be putting myself in a position to recognize the soft breeze of God's Spirit, blowing and moving when and where it wants. For God's purposes, not mine.
Suffering messes up my perspective. If I continue to view it in the wrong light, I will continue to be too introspective, too self-absorbed. It puts me in the position of feeling I am at the center of the universe, instead of seeing myself on the receiving end of God's grace and loving-kindness.
Trying Harder, Eddie Haskel, and Freedom
Have you ever tried to be good? I mean consistently, positively, good? I have. In my case, the harder I tried, the more I failed. I gradually became self-consious, then self-absorbed, and, finally, self-obsessed. I focused more on my failures than on anything else, including God and others. It was very frustrating. It was a very noble undertaking, this being good. Wasn't it?
I found the Apostle Paul faced this problem. In Romans 7: 15-17, Paul speaks of the frustration of trying to be good. In verse 17, Paul says it is the sin inside us that makes us do evil things, and that it (sin) is stronger than we are.
As a Christian, one way I reacted to my inability to overcome the undertow of sin in my life was to deny it existed. I gave lip service to being a sinner, but I'm not sure I realized what was going on.
My second reaction was to try even harder, at least on the surface. Do you remember Eddie Haskel of "Leave It To Beaver" fame? Poor Eddie. He really knew how to act. He knew what he should do, as evidenced in his politeness to Mrs. Cleaver. When it came to the Beaver, though, Eddie's dark side surfaced. He just couldn't help himself.
I found myself becoming an Eddie Haskel. I wanted to prove to myself that I wasn't all that bad, that I was a good Christian. So, like Eddie, I was nice and polite to those I wanted to impress, and I gauged my righteousness based how well I impressed them. That, in turn, would impress God.
Oh, but my darker side came to the surface when I encountered the "Beavers" in my life - those I felt I was better than, more powerful than, and better looking than. But, my very actions condemned me. So, back on the treadmill of trying to be righteous; my sinful nature emerging; followed by guilt, shame, and condemnation.
A third way I attempted to deal with my sinful nature was to develop an 'I'm sorry' response to life. I began to see myself as a failure, or a victim, unable to change. I thoroughly agreed with Romans 7:18. I tried to shore things up. Re-commit. Confess any and all deficiencies. And, worst of all, follow a list of someone else's religious rules and regulations.
The specter of acknowledging my own hopelessness and helplessness caused me much fear and anxiety. I finally realized I was unable, on my own, to fix myself. I had to come face-to-face with, and accept, my own humanness.
As Paul says, what a predicament I was in. Who would save me from my slavery to this deadly lower nature? Thank God - it has been done by Jesus Christ my Lord. I will spend the rest of my life "living into" that which has already been done. That's true life, and that's true freedom.
