Sunday

It was good to go to church today. That always ministers to my soul. Those who know me, know that I'm a bit of a traditionalist -- I really enjoy the hymns. Some of the new songs are good, but a lot of them are sentimental ("Draw me close to you...never let me go... feel the warmth of your embrace...") I refer to this genre as "Jesus is my boyfriend" music. I try to take these songs in the spirit in which they are meant, but, frankly, where's the beef? In my not so humble opinion, I'm not sure it's appropriate to approach the Creator of the Universe like some sort of Cosmic Teddy Bear.

I guess the analogy I can draw is between that of my earthly father to my Heavenly Father. I loved my father deeply, and I often told him that I loved Him, but I would have said "Dad, I love you" instead of "Dad, I'm in love with you." Therefore, I'm a little (actually, a lot) uncomfortable singing "Jesus, I'm so in love with You." Maybe women are more comfortable with expressing that type of sentiment, but I'm thinking that most men are as disconcerted as I am in that regard. (Could this be why our churches are not reaching as many men as women? Just a thought.)

That said, there is a place and purpose for the role of the Godhead in the ministry of comforting us in time of trouble. I'm reminded of the old hymn by Charles Wesley:
Jesus, lover of my soul, let me to Thy bosom fly,
While the nearer waters roll, while the tempest still is high.
Hide me, O my Savior, hide, till the storm of life is past;
Safe into the haven guide; O receive my soul at last.

Some might say that that is overly sentimental, but 1 Corinthians says: "Blessed be God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort; Who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble, by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God. For as the sufferings of Christ abound in us, so our consolation also aboundeth by Christ." (chapter 1, verses 3-5)

So, excuse me while I drop the deep theological premises and simply seek comfort in the arms of my Lord and Master, as a weak scared child might crawl into the lap of a loving father.


"Is he safe?"
"Safe?" said Mr. Beaver... "Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you." C.S.Lewis

Thanksgiving

The girls and I travelled out of town to be with friends this Thanksgiving. We just couldn't have Thanksgiving at our house. B would have been cooking all week long and we would have had a house full of guests.

B would always make pumpkin pie for breakfast on Thanksgiving. My older daughter made a pie for us. I really appreciate her doing that. I'm afraid it just brought up some memories, though, and I found it hard to even eat or speak. I was grateful, but I know my daughter couldn't tell it.

I read Psalm 100 (or as some call it "Old Hundredth") this morning:

Make a joyful noise unto the LORD, all ye lands.

Serve the LORD with gladness: come before his presence with singing.

Know ye that the LORD he is God: it is he that hath made us, and not we ourselves; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.

Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise: be thankful unto him, and bless his name.

For the LORD is good; his mercy is everlasting; and his truth endureth to all generations.

Giving thanks is good. When you consider the first American Thanksgiving, and all the hunger, disease, and death that our Pilgrim fathers suffered in the preceeding months, it is incredible. It reminds me that my own pain, though deep, is not unique even though I might think it is. It also reminds me that praise is possible even in these difficult times.

I'm blogging this during the half-time of the Texas-Texas A&M game. The Aggies are giving the defending national champ Longhorns fits and are ahead. Wish they would show the half-time show. I always enjoy the bands.

Two steps forward, one step back

Today has been hard. I'm doing some of the hard and deeply emotional things today. Things like filing on the insurance at work. A lot of pain for a small amount of money, not even enough to pay for B's funeral. You need a death certificate, and I'm not sure I can bring myself to even find out how to get one.

This, combined with other things (like dealing with a bill for some dental work B was supposed to have done but couldn't -- got that resolved with a couple of phone calls)... well, I just broke down and cried, harder than I have in a week.

Why does life have to be so hard?

Praising Him for His blessings

I'm reflecting back on this week versus last week. A week ago, the burden was so heavy as to be unbearable. Today, it's better. There's still pain there. There's still that ache in my heart, but it's not quite as bad. I guess that means that there's hope that I can go on.

The doctor visit was good yesterday, and I had a chance to encourage several people while I was there. My health remains good, maybe a little better, even, for those who want to know.

Dinner with my long-time friend and her children was great. We shared a lot of good memories about B, I got to impress them with my culinary skills (I can open a box of brownie mix with the best of them,) we laughed, and I felt like I was a little bit alive once again.

It'll be a long time before things feel somewhat normal again, but I'm getting better, one step at a time.

Med Center Visit Today

Off to the med center today. Nothing major going on; just a regular checkup and bloodwork which I'd already postponed three times. Plus, I'll meet B's nurse at lunch time, run over to the children's hospital to pray with a friend whose child possibly has cancer, and then have dinner with one of my closest friends.

Update: Am I getting addicted to blogging? (Probably not.) But when things change, I'm guess I'm obsessive about getting them correct. I didn't get to meet up with my friend at the children's hospital, since their appointment was already over by the time I got done with my lab work. I'll just have to catch him back home.

Saw CPCWarrior yesterday at church. She wanted to know when I'd start going out after church with her and her husband again. I'm sure the nature of some of my friendships will change now that B is no longer here, but I'm glad that that will be a constant. I'll have to see if I can get that copy of "Murder Ahoy" ordered so I can watch it with them.

B's story

At the funeral last week, somehow I was able to tell B's story. It was something that I strongly felt had to be done, and there wasn't anyone else who could do it. This is essentially the text of what I said at her memorial service:

B spent many summers working at a ministry in Colorado. From time to time, the founder’s son would come to her and ask her to tell her story. B would rather to talk to 200 people one at a time than to 200 people at one time, so she would usually be a little reluctant, but he would tell her: “B, this is a rough crowd; they need to hear your story.” So, B would “tell her story” and lives would be changed. I’m going to tell you her story.

B had a hard childhood. Her family was split up when she was five years old, with the consequent hardship, emotional, financial, and otherwise. The carefree childhood most of us had was unknown to her. B didn’t remember ever going to church, and the only spiritual education she could recall was attending Vacation Bible School one summer where she learned Psalm 23.

At 16, B had to leave home and she started supporting herself. B rarely shared the details with anyone, but I will tell you that she went through things that no woman should ever have to experience, let alone a 16, 17, or 18 year-old girl.

About the time she turned 20, B came to a crisis point in her life, and she started thinking out that one scripture passage she had learned. She couldn’t quite recall how it ended, so somehow she obtained a dime store Bible so she could read it. She went on to read the New Testament, but it really didn’t sink in.

One evening she came home, and wanted to watch TV, but there was only one channel in their small town, and Billy Graham had preempted M*A*S*H. B was not happy about that at all, but then something caught her attention. She listened, and at the end, when Dr. Graham said people could pray at home, she did. She said “God, if You’re real like You said in ‘that book’, then I need it, so show me.”

Well, God did show B. She turned her life over to Him, and He changed her. B never did anything half-way, and so she dove right into serving God. Along the way, there were a few good mentors who helped her mature.

For a long time B was burdened by her past. She once told me that she “never thought a good man would want her.” She couldn’t quite figure out just exactly what was wrong with me. She had a lot to learn about the grace of God.

For many years, B worked hard at serving, and she was always finding ways to help people here and there. But a little over fifteen years ago, something clicked. She finally realized that she didn’t have to work to please God; that as His child she DID please God. And at that point, her ministry flourished. Instead of struggling at ministering to a few people, she began to very naturally and joyfully minister to hundreds.

B would tell you first, that in God there is forgiveness from sin, no matter what you’ve done. But also, for those of us who have already found that forgiveness, there is tremendous freedom. Serving God should be a joy, and not a chore.

More about myself.

There's a lot more I want to write, but I need to give you some background and explanation. First of all, anyone can read this blog, so that creates several special concerns with respect to my family's privacy. Therefore, I've chosen to use aliases for everyone mentioned here.

I can't always just be referring to my wife as "my wife" -- it sounds so depersonalized, though she was my wife, my best friend, my lover, my life companion, my most trusted (and honest) advisor, and so much more. I was thinking about using the Greek or Hebrew words for "beautiful one" but that just seemed a little stilted. I actually rarely used her name when talking directly to her; she preferred "Babe," except when I'd done something to upset her. I used to call her "The Boss" on an on-line forum when discussing politics and economics, but that nickname doesn't fit at all in this context. So, I'll just refer to her as "B" -- a code name for her that I occasionally used for her, shorthand for "my Babe."

I have three children, a son and two daughters. I'll get nicknames for them if need be. I just don't want to say anything here to embarrass them, and I definitely want to protect their privacy. My son is the eldest. He is an Army officer, currently holding the rank of captain in a rather elite combat unit. He's had two full tours in Iraq.

My older daughter is a law student. I call her my "wayward" daughter, due to the fact that she's going to be a lawyer and she's attending my alma mater's arch rival in sports.

My youngest daughter is a college junior. She's studying accounting and music, and she's discovered that university "degree plans" don't really take that possible combination into account.

I'm definitely a proud father. Like I said in a previous post, they make going on worthwhile.

My trusted friend CPCWarrior has posted comments here, so she got to choose her own alias, a very appropriate one, too. It's a good thing -- I would probably have chosen a different one, and she definitely would have let me know if she hadn't liked it.

Thinking about my family and friends has been good for me today.

"No major decisions"

"Don't make any major decisions for x years, months..." I don't know how many times I've heard that in the past week. I'm enough of a contrarian that I just may go out and make a major decision just to prove that I can.

Let's get this straight. I'm not going to quit my job, move, remarry, get a 20-year-old girlfriend, or buy a motorcycle any time soon. (At least, that's what I think they mean by "major decisions.") I may sell some of my investment property like I'd been thinking about for the past year or so. I might buy a pickup (also something I've been considering) or a sports car (which I hadn't seriously thought about.) But even though I'm hurting emotionally, I don't think I've lost my ability to think clearly, folks.

My apologies to those who come here looking for great spiritual insight. You're not getting it from this evening's post, I'm afraid.

"Ye have heard of the patience of Job..." James 5:11

I've been reading the Psalms a lot recently, but somehow this morning, I ended up in the book of Job. When I went through my lymphoma treatments seven years ago, I read through Job; it was the first time that I really started understanding the book, or at least the first time it spoke to me. (My cancer verse was Job 23:10: "But He knoweth the way that I take: when He hath tried me, I shall come forth as gold.")

Anyway, the verse that stood out to me was Job 13:15: "Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him..." I think I can honestly say that. I almost wish that God would take me away from all this, because I feel so dead and empty inside. I have my children to live for, but I really can't think of much else that would keep me here.

Sorry, but I just can't write any more right now.

A little about myself

I’m not going to write anything here in order to gain sympathy. I'll just write what I'm thinking, in the hope that somehow I can sort out my feelings of loss, perhaps vent a little anger, and come to terms with my grief. I trust that somehow I can come to grips that my best friend, my wife of over 20 years, the mother of my three children is no longer by my side.

I'm treading carefully as I consider what and how much to share here. I don't want to embarrass my children, especially, nor cause them any pain. Thus, it's probably not wise that I give details that would allow a stranger to identify me.

A Grief Observed

Let me introduce myself. I'm going to call myself Timotheus. Although that's not my actual name, I've been called it a time or two. I hope it's appropriate, as it means "One who honors God," and that's what I hope my life does.

I'm starting to blog here as a form of therapy, I guess. I lost my wife last week after a 2 year battle with colon cancer. I suppose you could say we are fortunate, if anyone can be fortunate in such a situation. When someone is diagnosed with stage IV colon cancer, the life expectancy is usually only a few months, even with aggressive treatment. My wife and I had two years together after she was diagnosed.

This is about all I can comment right now. I have so much to say, but so little strength to actually say it.

I think I'll close with the lyrics to a song by Fernando Ortega, from which I took the title of this blog:

When the morning falls on the farthest hill,
I will sing His name, I will praise Him still.
When dark trials come and my heart is filled
With the weight of doubt, I will praise Him still.

For the Lord our God, He is strong to save
From the arms of death, from the deepest grave.
And He gave us life in His perfect will,
And by His good grace, I will praise Him still.