Let's get this straight: Sheryl Crow can tour the country with a caravan of 3 tractor trailers and 4 buses (http://www.thesmokinggun.com/backstagetour/scrow/scrow4.html)
but she wants us to limit ourselves to one square of toilet paper? (http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/6583067.stm)
Monday, April 23, 2007
Saturday, April 21, 2007
Survivors
Last night I went to a party for dear friend, the wife of my former pastor. It marked the 5th anniversary of her survival from pancreatic cancer. Five years is the "brass ring" for us. If we can be in remission for 5 years, we're "cured" (but we're always on guard for the beast.)
The joy of my pastor in reaching this milestone with her was obvious. I hope that twinge of jealousy that I momentarily felt wasn't. Why does he still have his mate, and why am I alone? It didn't seem fair. I shook off that feeling before it could fester, though. I wanted to rejoice with them.
My five-year point was reached in May of 2006. B and I both had appointments that day. I got the good news of "no more CT scans needed" -- but it just more bad news for her; yet another treatment had failed to reduce the liver tumor.
I couldn't wallow in my own pity-party, though. Also present was a young widow with a new-born baby. Her husband had died suddenly when she was only a couple months pregnant with their first child. That little baby looked so much like her daddy. We talked a while. We understood each other. We shared the difficulty of going on, of being the ones left behind. The struggle to find a purpose to get up out of bed in the morning. How even getting dressed is burden. I may write more on this later.
The joy of my pastor in reaching this milestone with her was obvious. I hope that twinge of jealousy that I momentarily felt wasn't. Why does he still have his mate, and why am I alone? It didn't seem fair. I shook off that feeling before it could fester, though. I wanted to rejoice with them.
My five-year point was reached in May of 2006. B and I both had appointments that day. I got the good news of "no more CT scans needed" -- but it just more bad news for her; yet another treatment had failed to reduce the liver tumor.
I couldn't wallow in my own pity-party, though. Also present was a young widow with a new-born baby. Her husband had died suddenly when she was only a couple months pregnant with their first child. That little baby looked so much like her daddy. We talked a while. We understood each other. We shared the difficulty of going on, of being the ones left behind. The struggle to find a purpose to get up out of bed in the morning. How even getting dressed is burden. I may write more on this later.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Finding Hope in Tragedy
My pastor preached on the topic "Hope" this past Sunday. He called me when I was in Indiana on business, told me his outline, and asked if I could make the last point for him. I was a little hesitant, but I agreed to do it. God was good, and gave me the strength to be able to get through it.
CPCWarrior told me I needed to post it. I don't always do what I'm told, but I will today.
---
Finding Hope in Tragedy
Good morning. My name is [Timotheus], and as most of you know, we lost my wife B this past November after a two year battle with cancer. It has been an incredible loss for me and my family -- [The Captain], [The Law Student], and [The Violinist]. Those of you who haven't lost your soul mate have no idea how tremendously difficult it is; I can't even begin to explain.
B was unique. Some wondered how the two of us ever got together. Some called us "The Odd Couple." Someone once commented that "B is the life of your life's party." In so many ways that's true. I didn't have to make any friends -- B made them for me.
During B's illness, there were times when I was driven to the brink of despair. There were times I would rage. One time I yelled until I had no voice left. I do have to say that if it was not for God being there, I -- we -- could not have made it. Through all that time we were going through that, and not just then, but now as well -- probably even more so -- God gave me three precious gifts that I want to tell you about this morning.
First of all, He gave me the gift of His presence. In times of darkness, in the utter loneliness, God speaks through His Word. He was there in the constant procession of precious friends who gave encouragement, and prayed with us, loving us and our children. I don't know how I could have made it during those last weeks without Pastor and J.S. making arrangements so that I could give B the care she needed. Our church family and T.F. always made sure we had food. I think there's still one more meal in the freezer. I'm glad we didn't have to go through this alone.
The second gift was the gift of purpose. I don't have it all figured out just yet, it's not fully revealed -- maybe it never will be -- but I can see how God used Bonnie and me to strengthen other people. I remember standing by B's bedside that last Sunday morning and asking God why she was lingering, and the answer came to mind as clearly as if I'd heard it audibly: "B is still ministering to people." Later that day, Dr. F. told me that in all the years that he had been at the hospital that he had never seen a patient touch the lives of the staff like B and our family did. Now, we still don't see everything, it's still rather vague, like the tapestry that Pastor mentioned in his message. [Pastor had told me that he would be using the illustration of a tapestry seen from the back side in his message, so I tied that in.]
The third gift is the promise of that place that He has prepared for me. During B's memorial service, Pastor imitated B jumping for joy as she entered into heaven. I'm sure she did just that. And when, some day, I see her again, whether I die or whether through Christ's return, I'm sure she'll be excited to introduce me to all the new friends she's made there.
God still has a plan for me here, but I look forward to that day. Sometimes I hunger for it. God has given me a hope and assurance that this world cannot even begin to comprehend.
CPCWarrior told me I needed to post it. I don't always do what I'm told, but I will today.
---
Finding Hope in Tragedy
Good morning. My name is [Timotheus], and as most of you know, we lost my wife B this past November after a two year battle with cancer. It has been an incredible loss for me and my family -- [The Captain], [The Law Student], and [The Violinist]. Those of you who haven't lost your soul mate have no idea how tremendously difficult it is; I can't even begin to explain.
B was unique. Some wondered how the two of us ever got together. Some called us "The Odd Couple." Someone once commented that "B is the life of your life's party." In so many ways that's true. I didn't have to make any friends -- B made them for me.
During B's illness, there were times when I was driven to the brink of despair. There were times I would rage. One time I yelled until I had no voice left. I do have to say that if it was not for God being there, I -- we -- could not have made it. Through all that time we were going through that, and not just then, but now as well -- probably even more so -- God gave me three precious gifts that I want to tell you about this morning.
First of all, He gave me the gift of His presence. In times of darkness, in the utter loneliness, God speaks through His Word. He was there in the constant procession of precious friends who gave encouragement, and prayed with us, loving us and our children. I don't know how I could have made it during those last weeks without Pastor and J.S. making arrangements so that I could give B the care she needed. Our church family and T.F. always made sure we had food. I think there's still one more meal in the freezer. I'm glad we didn't have to go through this alone.
The second gift was the gift of purpose. I don't have it all figured out just yet, it's not fully revealed -- maybe it never will be -- but I can see how God used Bonnie and me to strengthen other people. I remember standing by B's bedside that last Sunday morning and asking God why she was lingering, and the answer came to mind as clearly as if I'd heard it audibly: "B is still ministering to people." Later that day, Dr. F. told me that in all the years that he had been at the hospital that he had never seen a patient touch the lives of the staff like B and our family did. Now, we still don't see everything, it's still rather vague, like the tapestry that Pastor mentioned in his message. [Pastor had told me that he would be using the illustration of a tapestry seen from the back side in his message, so I tied that in.]
The third gift is the promise of that place that He has prepared for me. During B's memorial service, Pastor imitated B jumping for joy as she entered into heaven. I'm sure she did just that. And when, some day, I see her again, whether I die or whether through Christ's return, I'm sure she'll be excited to introduce me to all the new friends she's made there.
God still has a plan for me here, but I look forward to that day. Sometimes I hunger for it. God has given me a hope and assurance that this world cannot even begin to comprehend.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
-
"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....
-
Two women came before wise King Solomon, dragging between them a young man. "This young man agreed to marry my daughter," said one...
-
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...
