My brother, and Jesus my friend

Having just read my brother’s post from earlier today, I’d like to add a brother’s perspective. 

How important it has been to me to have a sibling- an older brother in this case.  I love both of my sisters and I love my parents, but my brother is something different entirely.  I have met many friends in various places since high school, and yet, not one can rival the relationship I have with my brother.  He left town shortly after graduation, and that didn’t change anything.  He lives 1900 miles west of Lawton, and that doesn’t matter either.  I feel that I am pretty good at solving things alone, and yet I can’t tell you how many times I have called my brother to get his opinion on a multitude of topics, and he helps me.  I’m 36, and I don’t need help, but I need his help. 

Two months after my father in law was killed in an accident, my brother told me he had cancer.  I don’t think I can really describe that time to you.  We prayed for a negative test result for several days, and God didn't not answer how we asked.  I can’t explain thinking about living my “independent” life without my go-to-for-everything brother, and yet I was at that time.  I had to consider it.  It was weighty.  My body felt heavy all over again. 

There is one thing that helped. 

I flew out to Idaho right after the surgery, and was with my brother and his family for 5 days.  That was nice, but that didn’t do it.  My presence there couldn’t solve this problem.  Discussing with Matt the treatment options from radiation to chemo to the type of cancer he has helped me explain the likelihood of results, and to generally get my head around it, but that didn’t solve anything either.  Continuing to talk to Matt didn’t solve anything either, it was a bandaid.  Listening to some other cancer success story didn’t help.  You see, there wasn’t anything that could solve it.  There wasn’t any final statement or conclusion that could make this thing resolve, and 1900 miles away, I felt helpless, and unable to help.  The fact that my brother is my best friend didn’t help either.  Thinking that he is 38 didn’t help.  Offering to take his place in my mind didn’t help either, and I can’t do that anyway. 

Through all of this, I considered Jesus. 

My brother as my best friend, confidant, and near twin can’t come close to what I have with Jesus.  On the other hand, I don't come close to what he has in Jesus.  He was the rock and fortress to David in the Old testament, and He has been the same to this one.  My trust in Jesus Christ rises above my desire for my brother, for his life and for mine.  It was these thoughts from Scripture that were my ballast.  The truth of the matter is we would both rather be with Jesus, but He has us here for now.  I rest my life in what Jesus accomplished on the cross, and I can trust my brother and his cancer to the same one who conquered death. 

Even death kills cancer, but it couldn’t hold Jesus. 

Talking with my brother in the last few months, we have discussed a story in the Bible of a man born blind.  The disciples ask Jesus why this is the case.  They wonder if he sinned or if it was his parents.  Jesus says, “It is not this man that sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him.”  You see, it didn’t help the disciples to look for a cause of the blindness, but a purpose, and Jesus said the purpose was to see God glorified.  Jesus then healed the man.  I don’t look for a cause for why my brother has cancer.  He has it, and that is God’s will.  We look for the purpose of God through the cancer.  What God wants to see is my big brother praising Him for what He has done during the cancer, and God wants the little brother to trust the big brother to God with no strings attached.  I am proud of my brother for many reasons, but to see him trust God more gives me pleasure that I can’t explain, and God himself is pleased.

No He didn't

My family and I are going through the ringer today.  It all started yesterday when our Papa G was driving to a meeting in Battle Creek for a job that has been very hard on he and Evonne.  Someone was driving the opposite direction and crossed the center line, striking the truck my only father in law was in.  We don't know much more than that right now, but ripples of grief have echoed through each phone call as one by one everyone needed to know.  I feel as though God stopped watching over Rick for a brief moment.  It seems that those promises to never leave and never forsake are not real anymore.  There is a terrible gnawing at my soul to question what He said in His Word.  Did He really stop watching?  How could He have a lapse of judgment?  Elijah says our God doesn't get tired or take a break.  Where was He?  Did He leave?  Does He think about all the kids and grandkids who needed their dad? Did God forget?

No He didn't.

So people who trust in Him have had their beloved Papa ripped away.  We didn't get a warning.  We had no last thoughtful conversation.  9 grandchildren only have one grandpa now.  Didn't God know that we were on his side?  Didn't He know that we have stood with Him and His Word, and that He should protect us knowing that we were with Him?  Does reading the Bible, praying, and going to church matter at all?  Did God forget to see that we have been faithful to Him?

No He didn't.

So, a life is over, and nothing can be undone.  There is finality to this unexpected event.  No one can do anything about it.  Death strikes everyone, but we weren't ready.  Papa G's body is coming to Paw Paw today, and we will cry more, and bury his body.  It's so surreal, and yet we know He didn't come home last night, so it must be true.  Did God give Him one last chance to talk to us?  Did He get more time to set things in order?  Did Papa G just leave us forever?

No he didn't.

You see, our great heavenly Father has arranged for a grand meeting again.  All of his saints will attend, and Papa G will be there.  We will be there, and will all worship the one true King -the King of Kings.  He doesn't grow tired or weary.  He says the rain falls on the just and unjust all the same.  We are in the world, but we aren't of the world.  We shouldn't sorrow as those who have no hope.  We are not hopeless, and neither is Papa G.  He trusted his life to the one who can save the soul for eternity, and God himself made good on that promise yesterday.  How strange that through death, a promise is fulfilled.  This isn't the first time.

The last time I wrote was at the conclusion to our trip out west where we saw God in the hills, the trees, the land, and in all creation.  He was here, I said, He was there, and over there, I saw him in the mountains, in the rivers, and sunsets.  This day is not different than that.  He is here.  He is here in all of you who say things to us.  He is here in all the people who show up for comfort.  He is here in His Word perhaps more than before.  He is here in Spirit.  In the death of a man, He shows Himself strong.  This is the God we need, and He is the one who manifests Himself to those who call on Him.  We need Him today, and we still stand by Him in His choices.  There is nothing He will do to cause the faith of his people to cease. Let today be the memorial of this.

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.  For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers.  And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called, he also justified, and those whom he justified, he also glorified.  What then shall we say to these things If God is for us, who can be against us?  He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?  Who shall bring a charge against God's elect?  It is God who justifies.  Who is to condemn?  Christ Jesus is the one who died - more than that, who was raised - who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us.  Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?  Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword?  As it is written, "For your sake we are being killed all the day long; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.  No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.  For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.  Romans 8:28-39

Did God forget about my Rick and my family?

No, He didn't.

There He was

My family and I have just returned from a trip to the western side of the United States.  We travel to Idaho each year, usually by car, to visit my brother and his wife near Boise.  We started planning this trip 3 months ago, sometime in April.  We even counted down the days.  We packed favorite games, guns, hiking and cycling gear- all planning to use the various items for their specific purpose.  Matt and Staci even booked a cabin on a lake up in the mountains for three nights once we arrived. 

July 10th came around, and we left the house at 3:30 in the morning in order to reach Rapid City, South Dakota in time to have maybe an hour of downtime before sleeping.  We grabbed subway, then fell asleep.  The next morning, I awoke before the rest in order to head out on a 47 mile uphill ride to Mount Rushmore.  The kids slept in, and were to meet me at the monument.  After Rushmore, we continued to Deadwood where we panned for gold, and found Wild Bill Hickok's grave along with Calamity Jane's.  We continued to see Devil's Tower in northeastern Wyoming before we traveled to a small on-the-way motel somewhere in the state.  It was late, and we were all exhausted, so we crashed.

Day three caught us motoring through Yellowstone to see Old Faithful, then heading down south to drop into Boise from an area of Idaho that I had never been.  We were all doing ok.

With three hours to go, and set in cruise on the highway, the suburban suddenly lost power, and the RPM's raged.  I pulled off the highway and we sat in park for a few minutes while we contemplated what just happened.  I pressed on revving the engine to 5000 RPM's in order to reach an aptly placed rest area only 1 mile from where we stopped.  We were out of harm's way, and now had to decide what to do.

Several hours later, we were all safely in Kuna with Matt and Staci ready for bed.

I guess I have missed a few details.  Let's go back.

Traveling this path to Rapid City required a new plan, and different highways.  We moved through several states that we had never driven through before, and some that we had never been in.  Montana, for example, has always appealed to me because of its symbol of freedom and open country that in my mind anyway, we don't have here in Michigan.  I have never been to Montana.  If you have never driven across this country, you probably should.  There are so many variations to each state, that you might think you're in a different country, or even planet.  It is 85 degrees here in Michigan as I type this, and I'm covered in water, yet, I hardly move. 100 degrees in Idaho isn't enough to make you sweat...unless you move around.  Michigan's humidity is remarkable, but better experienced and appreciated if you've been somewhere else.  This is just one example.  People know this, but don't experience it.
Continuing from Michigan to Idaho via South Dakota required us to skirt Indiana, Illinois, hit Wisconsin, and then cross Minnesota at the lowest point across the state.  Driving from the Wisconsin border (I love Wisconsin) across a bridge to Minnesota, you will see giant cliffs falling straight down into the water below from a state that is known for lakes, not for cliffs.  There He was.

We traveled across Minnesota through corn fields, and other fields to get to South Dakota where we noticed a lot of the highway looked red.  We learned that there is a bountiful supply of red granite in South Dakota which they use for roads.  There He was again.

Driving to the hotel that night took us right through the Badlands, and boy was that a treat.  The kids got out to climb on the rocks which are multi colored, and in layers, while Sarah and I climbed some, we also took pictures.  This was a nice break from the road.  There He was still.

The next morning I rode 47 miles through the Black Hills on my way to Mount Rushmore, and I have a hard time describing this little ride of mine.  There were hills everywhere, and all around.  The pine trees were healthy, green, and tall.  The road was smooth, quiet, and beautiful, and the sun had started to peak up above the terrain, softly lowering its glow over God's great creation, and there He was with me.  Cycling here in Michigan, it takes a long time to gain elevation while you ride, and then there in South Dakota, hills arise without effort to challenge, inspire, and dominate you.  In the 47 miles, I gained 5,700 feet, slowly and steadily.  Because of the climb, I was slower than my normal speed, and that gave me more time to see what I was passing.  What a glorious place this was.  To think that I could come, and ride when I chose and how I chose was a blessing.  Not every person can do that for a multitude of reasons.  There I was alone, climbing, seeing, and worshiping.  The God who formed these mountains was the same one who created the Badlands without effort.  I could work my entire life and not create a mountain or a stack of sediment like the Badlands.  It was so quiet.  I continued riding, and after 25 miles, came around the bend to see a breathtaking lake.  The water was like ice, and the sun had uncovered it before I arrived.  Mountains and trees were perfectly reflected in the water below.  It was set out in front of me like a picture that I hadn't taken, but I could ride through.  God did this.  It was hard to contain the splendor of His majesty in this little place in the world that was dominating my mind.  Yet I was alone.

I thought about the red roads and how God supplied red granite for the people of the Dakota's so they could set a road in its place, and it would benefit thousands of people.  People who wanted to ride in the mountains, for example.  Some who might just travel to work.  God set the granite in place for thousands of years for the people of today to discover it, work it, and use it for a purpose such as this.

All of this after we had passed Minnesota and its brilliant sheer cliffs falling to the water.  What holds them up?  How long have they been like this?  Are there more places like this?  Did a man make this?  Could a man in 10 lifetimes make this?  He was there too in the setting of the border of Minnesota, and knew that I would take pleasure in its beauty one day, but it took me 35 years to arrive there.

How does God reach solitary people while riding a bike in the hills?  What part of a man can look and see Him and His design and not just trees?   Why is a natural setting more impressive to me than carved faces in stone?

It is so easy to go from day to day and see what we expect to see, but I implore you to look past what you glance over in Michigan or anywhere, and see God's design, supply, and handiwork.  It is only a glimpse of Him that I got to see driving thousands of miles, and yet it took my breath away.  When you contemplate the universe, or the tiny spacecraft that left here in 2006 to arrive at small Pluto in the last 10 days, think of how long ago God made that body to be found and pictured when it was. 
The splendor has been there the entire time, just like the Black Hills, the Badlands, and the cliffs in Minnesota.  He makes these things for our benefit and for His good pleasure.  There He is.

God is a God of epic proportions, minute details, and everything in between

I have been contemplating writing for quite some time. There are hundreds of things that happen every day  that one could focus on and write about, and at times I feel compelled to put it in words.  This is one of those moments.

I'd like to share with you a story of God's providence. 

Question 15 of Desiring God's Baptist Catechism is this:

What are God's works of providence?  Answer:  God's works of providence are the holy, wise, and powerful acts which he preserves and governs all his creatures, and all their actions.

The scripture references are:  Nehemiah 9:6; Colossians 1:17; Hebrews 1:3; Psalm 103:19; Matthew 10:29-30.

It all started Thursday last week.  I got up, and prepared for work like every other thursday for the past 7 years.  I got my coffee from my lovely wife, and sat in my super nice BMW.  Don't let this fool you-it is 11 years old, and has 140,000 miles on it; however, it has been mine for 18 months, and I really enjoy driving it.

Humming along U avenue headed towards 131 to drive to Albion, I had no plan or idea what God would do.

My car started hesitating, and generally speaking: Not wanting to drive any more.  I turned around, and went home.  Quickly, I switched vehicles, and drove my wife's van to my two appointments.  When I arrived home, Sarah drove with me to Spikes in Mattawan where we take our vehicles, and have been very happy with their service.  The man at Spikes told me they would take a look at the car, but might not be able to help me since it is a european car.

This didn't bother me.  I figured they would fix it.  They always do.  Friday morning, I drove the truck to work.  I own a 1995 Ford F250 that is old, cheap, and carries a lot of wood back to my house when I want it to.  It is the exact opposite of a BMW.  In fact, it usually sits in my driveway forlorn, and feeling very unloved.  It was called to service that day.  At noon, while I was at lunch, I received the phone call from Spikes that they couldn't work on the BMW, and it sounded pretty bad when they had started it.

I was irritated, and set out to find a new BMW mechanic to help me.  I found a shop 10 miles from the house in Portage that was open until 5:30.  I left the office with the truck, and drove to Spikes to switch the truck for the car.  I then had to drive to schoolcraft to pick up the youngest two children who were being watched by their grandmother because Sarah and the oldest three were on a field trip to detroit.  The problem looming is that if I have two kids, and drop off the car, someone has to pick me up.  Turns out Sarah would be back to Portage at the same time I could get to the repair place to drop off the car-before they closed!

After about an hour of driving, and wondering if this plan would work, it did.  It was Friday evening now, and we had Bible Study.  We all took the van, and enjoyed time with our friends, then came home.

Saturday didn't require much driving, but the BMW shop was closed, so I knew my car wasn't going to be ready for Monday.  We drove the van on Sunday to church and back twice.  Nothing out of the ordinary.

Then came Monday.

I prepared for work as usual in the house, and got in the van this time.  I wasn't looking forward to driving the van because the car is just so much more fun.  I had just hooked up my iphone to the speaker system about 6 minutes down the road ready to listen to the Bible over my speakers, and the check engine light came on, and my accelerator didn't work.  I muscled the steering wheel over to get the van off the main road, and it came to a stop.  With the check engine light on, I assumed the worst.  I called Sarah to ask her to drive our only remaining vehicle to pick me up.  I then checked the oil.  No oil.  This is not going to be good.  Spikes received another call from me, and came and towed the van.

Now, I was driving the third tier vehicle with horrible gas mileage on a Monday to my appointments, and my wife had nothing.  This is quire ironic considering we have three vehicles and only two drivers.  In addition, it had now occurred to me that we had no more contingency plan available.
Furthermore, Haley and I were planning on going to Detroit to watch a Red Wings game.

Pressure.

Shortly after the van died, I received a call from the BMW place.  They can fix the car, it needs some maintenance, and can be ready by Tuesday.  This was great, and I finally had some good news.

I ran two appointments with the truck, and then stopped at home to get Haley before an appointment on the way to Detroit.  No trouble.  I drove to Battle Creek, then to Detroit.  Haley and I stopped for gas, and some food, then were 90 minutes early to the game.

We still had not heard anything on the van.

The Red Wings game finished at 0-0, and continued to a shootout which we lost, and then the mass exodus began.  We got to the truck in reasonable time, and I carefully pulled a ticket from under my wiper, and began our treck back to Lawton.  This will take about 2 1/2 hours.  The parking ticket was $30, and was an irritant, but technically, I was parked near a sidewalk, so I'll just have to pay it.

Haley and I were making good time, and didn't have to stop for any reason until about Albion.  This was almost halfway back, and for the first stop, that's pretty good.  Upon slowing down at the gas station, I noticed smoke coming from under my hood.  I opened it up to see coolant spraying near my battery causing the smoke.  I got gas, went to the restroom, bought coolant, and went back outside.  I didn't have any coolant in the reservoir.  Are you kidding me!  It is 12 AM, my wife is asleep with no way to help me.  The whole world is asleep and I am with my 10 year old daughter who is relying completely on me to get her home safely.

We get back on I-94, and notice the engine temp gauge is getting high.  I tried to vent the hot air into the cab, but it wasn't working.  Now we are starting to get cold, and the engine is hot.  After 10 minutes of driving, the gauge is very very high, and I pulled off at another exit that might have a way to fix our issue.  It didn't.

We waited for about thirty minutes.  I check the oil.  No oil on the dipstick.  Why would this ever happen?  I take care of my vehicles, but this makes me look like an idiot.

So I got oil, and prayed.  Haley and I returned to I-94 at 12:41 AM with about 50 minutes to go.  I intended to drive 20 minutes and then stop again.  For the next hour, we drove about 55 miles an hour on a 70 mile and hour road, and were passed by semis, car, and probably horses.  The truck was overheating, and there was nothing I could do, but pray and trust we would get home.  As we got closer to the house, I slowed, and the engine got much much hotter.  We pulled into our driveway, and I parked in the grass away from the house and off the driveway just in case the thing started on fire.  It didn't, but lots and lots of smoke and steam were coming from the engine.  I opened the hood, to get some air in there, got all my stuff and Haley away from the truck, and tried to go to sleep.

It is 10:42 on Tuesday, and this was about 9 hours ago. 

The first thing I did this morning was tell Sarah everything you just read.  The second thing was call the BMW place, and ask if my car was done.  Now, I know it was a long shot, but I had to try.  It wasn't ready.  So, I have a problem.  I need to take the truck in, but I can't come back home if I do.  I also had two appointments in the morning, and one in the evening.  If I drop off the truck, I can't get the car when it is ready, and I can't count on the van because it is probably toast.

I called Spikes and told them what happened with the truck.  He told me to bring it in and they would look at it, and even give me a ride home if necessary.  Not a bad offer, but I couldn't do it.  We have to get the car!!

To complicate things, I have to drive to Fort Wayne tomorrow for appointments in Indiana (2 hours one way), and Sarah needs to drive something to drop off kids and meet me in Marshall where we will leave one vehicle and then drive to a Red Wings game, and then get on a plane Thursday morning to fly to Jamaica for a few days.

Rough life?

It sure seems like it.  We don't have another vehicle for Sarah to meet me in Marshall.  My car isn't done, the van is gone, and the truck might not work.

I walked outside, and started the truck, moved it to the driveway, and came back inside.  I then proceeded to get on my ipad and look at all the links Sarah had sent me for Chevy Suburbans for sale in the area.  After a few minutes of this, Spikes called.  The van is ready, and is ok!  It was out of gas.  (To defend myself here: the gas gauge hasn't worked in 18 months, so we track mileage, and somehow that system broke down in all the car shuffle).

Great!  Now we can drive the truck in, swap for the van, they can fix the truck, and we'll pick up the car with the van when its ready.  Sweet.

Feeling exuberant and finding some light in our tunnel, I convince Sarah to ride with me in the truck to Spikes to get the van. 

Five minutes later, and not yet to spikes, we were stalled out in a truck a few miles from home with all five children at home alone.

I was going to turn left uphill headed to Spikes when the stall took place.  I shifted to neutral, and let the truck roll back to get out of the intersection on this not-very-busy road.

I called Spikes from my cell phone which usually doesn't work in this area near our house, and they quickly came and towed us to Mattawan where we swapped vehicles.

The kids were okay.  The truck might not be.  This is the part I don't know yet.

I check the oil in the van as soon as we arrived home, and there is oil. 

Conclusion:
I shouldn't have to deal with this.  Three vehicles for two people should always allow for uninterrupted travel.  I had to cancel two appointments and potentially missed out on a sale.  If I don't sell, I don't make money, and if I don't make money, we can't pay bills.  Why did the truck have to start overheating in the middle of the night?  Can't it handle one day of 400 miles?  Good grief,  it sits there all the time ready to drive, and when it is called upon, it fails me!  The van is out of oil, and dies minutes from the house!  I get stuck in an old truck. What will clients think of me in that old thing!?  Spikes can't fix my BMW, whats up with that?  Had I taken it somewhere else right away, I might have had it back by Friday.  Why do all these things happen to me, and why did they happen all in the same four day period?  AND  Really  God!!   a parking ticket  ?!?!

Alternative conclusion:
Questions I have asked:
How is it that I drove 400 miles-most of it at night-far away from home, far away from a repair place, and with no contingency plan, and then minutes after getting home safely, the truck dies in a safe place with help standing by?
How did it come to be that I ran out of gas with the van only minutes from my house instead of 90 miles away (where I was going), and would have been towed from there?
How appropriate was it that Sarah met me within minutes of her return from Detroit and my haphazardly trip on Friday when if it didn't work, the car wouldn't have been looked at until Tuesday?
(More difficult to answer):  How and why is it that we have three vehicles anyway?  If this wasn't the case, a disaster would have ensued.
How convenient was it that my cell phone worked when it rarely does in the place where the truck stalled?
How providential was it that I turned on 72nd avenue instead of driving through a construction zone (I left that part out), when moments later I stalled? My stalled vehicle would have been in a active construction zone.
How is it that I decided against going to work, and cancelling appoinments, when if I had forged ahead, I would have stalled out somewhere else- farther away, and without a van to trade for?
Do you really have no perspective David?  You go to a Red Wings game, and travel to many great places, and you complain about this?  Thinking about yourself much?


I ask then, why wouldn't I want this to happen to me?  Why wouldn't I want God to try me, and test my inward thoughts, motives, and desires?  Why wouldn't I want him to preserve me through difficulty?  If I never need to be helped and providentially saved, I would less and less see a practical need for my dependence on God.  He is the one that lined up all these things in four days.  He is the one that sustained a broken down truck 150 miles from here in the dark night so that we would get home, but more importantly that I would glory in his providential care for me and my little girl. 

The same way Haley was 100% dependent on me and my decisions with the truck through the night, I am dependent on God and his choosing of circumstances, and events for me.

Colossians says that "in him all things hold together" and Hebrews says that he "upholds the universe by the word of his power."  Do we believe this or not?

When God works all things out for good for His people, He doesn't say the events are good.  He didn't say my truck would survive this.  He didn't say we'd even make it back from the Red Wings game alive.  He said it would work out for good.  If I can glory in broken vehicles because of Christ, then this is a good thing.

I have trusted my son's life to this great God, how can I not trust Him in everything?

Juxtaposition

September 17, 2013

I sit in the Boise airport alone.  Having traveled thousands of miles to the West to go hiking with my older brother was no mistake, and was quite enjoyable.  We have a hundred pictures, and maybe more of the great mountain ranges we walked through, the lovely pine trees we passed, and even the scarred lands previously burned.  These are the very creation of the God I worship.  Mountains stand as they were placed by Him so many years ago.  One mountain has a red top, others are rocky with crags, and some are covered in pines with smooth slopes.  We walked thirty miles in two days.  Up down and all around.  We tented next to a beautiful lake which reflected the mountains around with astonishing clarity the next morning.  You couldn’t recreate this if you tired.  Hours and hours from civilization- or it would certainly seem- trout bite the lures we cast in the water.  We casted most of them back from whence they came.  God keeps those trout there 8,100 feet above sea level so that one day someone might venture a lure into the lake to see what God might do.  Meals are provided, and God is worshipped alone for such a grand scale, and one yet so small that many people don’t know its there, or are focused on the millions of other distractions in life.

In all of this, I was in awe of my masterful designer, and yet something was missing.  I wouldn’t have said this flying from home to Boise.  Landing in Minneapolis on the way, nothing was different.  Looking forward to seeing my brother and his wife and children along with the spectacular views God might be so inclined to show me was a great anticipation.  What happened?

I realized I was alone.  My brother was there with me the entire time.  We fished halfway around the lake by walking the banks.  We took picture upon pictures, and packed everything in and everything out.  We were responsible.  We cleaned up after another party that wasn’t as clean. We walked like soldiers to accomplish what our minds had set out to do.  So how was I alone?

A single man cannot write what I write.  I was single once.  I’ve been different for years now, and in 7 years, I’ll have lived half my life single, and the other half with another.  This person who has walked a married life with me has always been by my side.  Before we were married she was by my side.  This missing person was noticed in my mind immediately upon walking the mountains.  She is my soulmate, my friend, and one that God himself chose for me.  I wouldn’t ask for another.  She fills my voids, and polishes my unseemliness.  I am no diamond in the rough.  I am the rough, and she makes me look like a diamond.  She is selfless, she is warm.  She is kind, and never judgmental.  She is concerned with truth, and raises our children in the nuture and admonition of the LORD.  Alone in the mountains and seeing the grand display of God himself was dimished by the lack of my wife.  In a strange way, and yet very logical, she surpasses the beauty of the rocky cragged-top mountain, the red mountain, the pristine water of a lake so far above sea level most the world will never see it.  Yet, I see my wife every day, and she seems ordinary because she has always been there.  But Oh!, what God really intended for me to see wasn’t the hills he made.  It wasn’t the trout that is fed by God himself.  It wasn’t the time spent with my brother.  All things are made by Him, and are great, but when God created the world as we see it here-and perhaps with more beauty than we see- he then made Adam.  And God said it wasn’t good that man was alone.  I think I know how Adam felt.  When he saw Eve for the first time, he never wanted to not see Eve again.  My Sarah is that way.

He made the mountains and made the trees, and He made Sarah to set me free.  Free from the trappings of the world.  Free to see what His might truly is by giving me a lovely woman just like he did for the first man. 

Oh, how I pale compared to the mountains and streams!  How far I fall next to my Sarah.  If a mountain surpasses my beauty, how much more does my wife?  Yet, she stays with me, as God’s plan has always been.  I have been given much by the King, and I have a response for Him.

You gave me a woman who heals my wounds. She encourages me when I am down.  She has sought you when I was complacent.  She has delivered  five children because it was your design, and never complained.  She trusted You while our son was in danger.  She disagrees with me.  She has a careful eye to things that I am oblivious to, and I need that, but you knew it, and made her that way.  She teaches our children to love you, and shows them how to train their mind.  She gives her time to me, and asks for nothing back.  She is orderly, clean, and composed.  She avoids things she should avoid.  She lets me be wrong, and doesn’t strike back.  She is better than I, and You made her that way. 

Oh, King of my heart, I thank you today for making a beautiful woman this way.  You designed her and fashioned her spirit and heart to love a man and her children from the start.  You have kept her safe, and her children too, I can only ask one thing of You.  Keep her safe and better than me today and never let her walk away for She is the guiding force of my life, next to You, my Sarah, my wife.

Secrets no one wants (Part 4)

September 27th came around quickly.  The major concern on my mind was the cost of the hospital, and how we were going to pay for it.  I wanted to leave, oh boy did I want to leave.

Sarah was mostly immoble.  Due to the surgery, her ability to lift herself up was gone, and would return over time.  I was very mobile, very vocal, and the hospital knew.

Sometime that afternoon, the hospital actually sent a relations specialist or some such thing to our room to discuss payment and how they could help.  They offered state assistance, and followed that up with "you have to write your income, but we don't verify it."  I rejected this idea immediately, which still left me in a concerned state.

Meanwhile, our baby boy is nameless, and needs a pediatrician to come check him out to verify his ability to be alive. 

To this point in our parenting lives, we have taken all of our children to the same pediatrician that I was taken to when I was a child.  The reason?  It's the only one I knew of.  You know the drill right?  Regular appointments every so often, a vaccination schedule- the usual rigamorole.  We did this mostly, but Sarah and I never subscribed to the wellness baby checkups because all of our children were healthy, and we didn't know why it cost $150 to know that our baby's head was in the 90th percentile.  Nor did we do anything with the information.  I don't even have any of that information framed around my house even now!!

So, because our son was born so unexpectedly, and our midwife could not release us from the hospital the way a pediatrician can, AND because we weren't going to be in a hospital this time, we had to contact our regular baby doctor to tell them of this birth.

A few hours pass.

In comes the doctor.

For what seemed like an hour, the doctor began lecturing Sarah and I on the ills of our lack of scheduling appointments with their office.  He referenced how Madalyn our almost 4 year old hadn't seen the doctor very often, and we had ignored their advice on vaccinations, and appointments.  He even mentioned that before coming to the hospital to see our son, he had considered telling us he wasn't going to come and help us any longer because we posed a greater risk to the other children they are taking care of at their practice.  (Since our children weren't vaccinated the way others were, when our kids are in the office, we give the other children risks that they wouldn't have if our children were up to date.)  As the conversation, which was mostly one way, continued, Sarah started crying, and I knew that I had to step up and take over the conversation, which I did.  I simply told the doctor, that we weren't against any steps they wanted to take, necessarily, and that we did take our children to other places to get shots.  Mainly all I wanted was for him to be quiet, do his job, and leave us alone.  I didn't need a lecture, nor did my wife need any feedback from a doctor we didn't plan to see, nor did we expect to be treated like a 16 year old mother and father who had never had any children together, and had barely had sex to begin with.  What a trying hour this was.

Finally, he stopped.  He began to look over the baby with no name, and moved his arms, legs, made him cry, and the like.  Typical.  "Get done with it already, doc, leave my son alone," I'm sure I thought.  When it seemed that things were just about done, he said, "I think I hear a little clicking sound near his heart."

I think my heart skipped a beat just then.  I didn't believe him, nor did I want to given the lecture we just had.  He passed it off as something that may or may not be serious.  Doctors have a way of saying something terrible, and making you feel like it isn't that bad when it is terrifying, and potentially destructive.  This is what this doctor did.  He said he'd have some other doctor look at it.

Then he left.

I was objecting to everything that was happening on the inside knowing that there were factors outside of me that I could not control.  Knowing that God was in control of all these other factors helped more than I can say; however, in the middle of the circumstance, that wasn't the first thing on my mind.  Denial was probably first, then anger.  After some venting, the bulwark of my faith had to show up, or it must not be there at all.  Sovereign means sovereign, and I needed that.

Later on, yet another person came in to wheel our son out, and give him some test.  I think I was at work briefly that day.  When I returned to the room, Sarah was doing ok, our son was there, and Sarah told me a test was done.  "Ok."  I thought.

A blonde woman walked in the room demanding attention.  She introduced herself, and said she had the results of the test they had run on our son.  Sarah and I were seated on chairs with the window of the room to our backs.  She pulled up a chair and sat in the middle of the two of us, and told us that our son had a bicuspid valve in his heart, and that it was working just fine; however, that over time these things tend to get worse.  She told us that if things got worse, they would gradually change, and he wouldn't turn blue in the face one day and fall over.   She also told us that people have issues like this and live a long time, and even don't know they have it.  She then produced a printout from Wikipedia quoting some information about bicuspid valves, and various consequences of them.  On the Wikipedia handout, there were some pictures of hearts, and other things.  Based on the information she gave us, first of all, we were in shock.  I was unhappy with the hospital, pediatrician, and now they have thrown another doctor at us?  This was not sitting well with me.  When I could gain composure, I asked her if things were ok, if  he'd have to see a doctor at all.  Her response is still shocking to me today.  She said, "Well, yes, he'll have to see a doctor the rest of his life, and we're the only pediatric cardiology in Kalamazoo, so he'll be seeing me."

This didn't help.  I don't like one option, and I don't like being told I have one option when I know there must be more.  Furthermore, I didn't appreciate the lack of professionalism in printing Wikipedia pages from the internet.  I could do that from home.

September 27th was more difficult than the day before in many ways.  I knew that God was in control, and I didn't doubt him.  I didn't know what He was doing or why.  It was hard encapsulate what had happened in the past 40 hours.  I definitely wasn't ready to talk about it.  I didn't talk about this for a very long time.

People came to the hospital to see our son with no name.  We were glad to visit with friends from church, other friends, and family for sure, but we couldn't talk about these things yet.  We just weren't ready. 

Sarah and I had never struggled with a name this much before.  Audrey's name was chosen long before she arrived, and Haley was in the middle of her pregnancy.  Brett's name was right in line right up to his birth, and with fluttering eyelids, I got that one through.  Madalyn's name was carefully chosen, and ready as her birth was scheduled.  This little baby had produced more anxiety and surprise than any other child thus far, and the downfall was that it took over 60 hours to find a name suitable for his little person. 

No matter what came, God did this.  He created my son.  He crafted him special- just like every other baby.  He formed my baby from inside the womb. 

Pro 11:14b  "In abundance of counselors there is safety."

Ps 139:13  "For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother's womb."

Father of mine, oh come and see
We are lost, destitute, and not free.
We cannot leave this dark place
We need store upon store of your grace.

Sorrowful, yet Rejoicing (Part 3)

It seems that once we got off the plane in Detroit, the next 156 days would rush past more quickly and more dramatically than any other period like it.

From September 3 to September 25th, nothing out of the ordinary took place.  We took our kids to school, went to work, and attended church.  The next thing on our mind was October 12th, and our fifth little baby.

Sarah woke up at 2 am on September 26th.  She was bleeding.  I was startled into consciousness, turned on the light, and Sarah was focused on blood in the bed, and the constant leaking that pursued.  She went downstairs, and called the midwife from the bathroom.  I was trying to calm her down, and tell her this is ok, we're just going to have a baby.  (Having seen 4 births, and participating in all of them, I know there is blood involved)

She didn't think so.

The midwife called us back quickly, but was out of town on vacation.  She told us to call her assistant. We did, and she arrived at our house from Vicksburg in about 15 minutes.  (Some record!)   Sarah continued to bleed, and concern was building- both from the midwife and from Sarah.  I wasn't convinced.  I have a "We've got this" attitude until you really prove me wrong.

Going back in time about a year, Sarah and I made a major transition in our lives.  We left a church that we had been raised in.  This was not easy, nor was the decision taken lightly.  Part of the reason for that change was our believing that our sovereign God is not just loving, kind, compassionate, just, and righteous, but that His being sovereign meant that He is in control of every situation in a way that He is bringing it to pass.  We don't believe God established laws or order, and then let us make decisions apart from Him.  He is in control of everything, and everything that happens has been designed by Him.

I say all that to say that this knowledge of God based on what He says about Himself in His Word was a great balm to my soul and spirit throughout September 26th, and all the days that followed. 

The days didn't get easier.

We contacted Caleb, our good friend who lives about 8 minutes away.  He got up and arrived quickly.  He was bleary-eyed, and exhausted, and was now assigned the task of watching 4 children immediately without much warning.  We left Caleb, I'm sure, in a state of disbelief, and wonder.

The midwife encouraged us to go to the hospital to see what the doctors there would say.  I don't like hospitals.  I've been locked up in hospitals many times and for reasons that I don't agree with.  Driving to the hospital when our plan was to have this baby at home felt like a dagger.  See ya later, Caleb.

We were supposed to be happy though!  On this special day when God would choose to bring our son into the world, we were plagued with worry, blood, a hospital, and payments to midwives who would never have to do much work to earn what they were paid.  Is God really in control of this nightmare?

Sure enough, the doctors sat Sarah down, and ran several tests, and told us not only do they not advise us to go home and deliver this baby, but they were going to help that little baby come out.

We've never delivered a baby unnaturally.  I think this was the beginning of God speaking softly and telling us that just like recorded Scripture, he doesn't always do things "naturally."

When Sarah heard we were going to have a C section, she started crying.  I was mad.  I don't like doing things that I don't like to do.  Make sense doesn't it?  I'm the father, I'm paying the bills, I make the decisions, but God took this one from me, and it was very hard to deal with even as my son was being delivered.

I dressed up with scrubs, and waited in the hallway for what seemed like hours.  I could hear Sarah moan after an injection which I knew she hated.  Previous injections in the same area had caused the skin to be very sensitive, and now they were doing it all over again.  My mind was swirling with frustrating thoughts, anger, "Why would God do this" complaints, and "Why am I in the hallway?  I'm her husband, I should be there with her right now, don't you make me sit here all by myself in the hallway."

But there was nothing I could do, and I knew it.  God has ways to prohibit the action of his people, and in this case, he did it using other people in a deliverance that I didn't even want.

Some time later, I was summoned into the surgery/deliver room.  All I could see was Sarah's head and a blue blanket held up with clips blocking their work from Sarah's and my eyes.  I held her hand.
I held her hand.

This was not easy.

I heard a baby. 

Oh the tears that come to my eyes as I write this, and the tears that flowed when he arrived.  In spite of all the hardship, stress, and anger, my son was crying, and I could hold him.  Sarah couldn't move until they finished their surgery.

He weighed 7 pounds and 7 ounces.  It was 6:15 am.

I took pictures, and smiled.  I've only had one other boy.  This seemed new all over again.

I had to write people at work to cancel appointments I had set for that day, and people understood, but boy did they not know what 2 am to 6 am was like.  I didn't know if I even wanted to tell anyone.

I held my son next to my skin knowing that he probably would be the last one I would ever hold at such a young age.

Sarah was wheeled into the room I was in which was just a post-surgery room before we could get to the jailroom we'd be in the next several days.

I sent a message to my brother and Staci who were planning on being here BEFORE the birth to help.  They were surprised.  We contacted a few other people, posted on facebook, intended to call parents and then my phone died.  We had no phone and no way to contact people until about 4 pm that day.

Sarah was finally able to hold him.

In the months preceding this, and in the flurry of activity, our son didn't have a name.

Proverbs 22:1  "A good name is to be chosen rather than great riches, and favor is better than silver or gold."

You didn't let us go our way.
You blocked our path that September day.
Oh, help us trust you and name our boy
A name for you, and for your joy.