A MATTER OF DEATH AND LIFE

One evening nearly three weeks ago now I logged onto Facebook to find distressing news: an old friend had died too young - a massive heart attack at age 36.  I first met Jason when I arrived in Le Mars, Iowa in 1991 as a newly trained youth pastor, fresh out of college.  Jason was finishing junior high that spring and it didn't take me too long to get to know him, his parents, Bill and Jodee, and two younger sisters, Jennica and Jonalee, and his little foster brother named Spencer. 

I was young, single guy 700 miles from my family and Jason's family adopted me as part of their own.  His parents became two of my most trustworthy youth ministry helpers, and Jason earned a reputation as one of the most hard-working and fun-loving teens I have ever known.  The whole family was such a joy to spend time with.

Of course, I stayed in touch with them even after life took me in new directions over the following years.  Two years ago I was thrilled to bring Melissa and the kids to Le Mars for a few days to meet Jason and his family. 

Then, three weeks ago, Jason had a massive heart attack and died on his parents' couch, leaving behind a wife of six years and a recently adopted daughter along with all his other relatives and friends. 

Melissa and I agreed the night we heard the news that I should make the effort to get back to the funeral.  I spent the next day making flight arrangements (from Cap Haitien to Florida to Omaha) and writing substitute plans for school. Since the next week at Cowman was going to be a short one (in honor of a Haitian holiday) we decided I should not rush the trip and, instead, allow time for me to swing through Indiana for a quick visit with my mom after the funeral. 

Below are some pictures from my trip:

Coming back into the U.S. after 9 months away can be mighty strange.  Does anyone really need a vending machine for electronics?

I made it to Omaha early enough that Friday afternoon to hitch a ride with Jason's aunt and uncle, making it to the visitation on time.  There was a line of mourners out the door and across the parking lot for over four hours.

Hard to believe ...

I woke up Saturday morning to a glorious Iowa day.  So thankful for the generosity and hospitality of good friends, Dixie and Calvin, who put me up for the night in their brand new home. 

Came across reminders of new life after death as I walked to Bill and Jodee's house Saturday morning before the funeral.  I was thrilled to catch a bit of spring - coming from the land of perpetual summer heat.  I was quite chilled throughout most of my week back in the States. 

Jodee cradling Jennica's sweet little girl.

Jason's funeral was like no other I've been to.  Jason had lived a few "prodigal son" years as a young adult and then had come back to Christ in a powerful and unmistakable way a few years ago.  His family was comforted by so many testimonies of those who were touched by Jason's life and his faith.  The funeral turned into an outright WORSHIP service and the officiating pastor even finished with an altar call!  And you know what?  Twelve souls were added to the Kingdom that day.  New life in the midst of death!

Jason's daughter had the idea of lighting and releasing Japanese lanterns in honor of his life and so that is how we spent that evening at a local park.

Bill lights a lantern.  No father could have loved a son more dearly than Bill has. I am tearing up now as I look at these pictures and consider the pain Bill and Jodee, and the rest of the family, are  enduring right now.

Jonalee lights a lantern for her brother.  More tears.

Jonalee, Spencer, Jennica and Eliana break ground in Bill and Jodee's backyard to plant a rose bush in Jason's honor.

Don't even ask.  Let's just say that Jason's sense of humor lives on in his sisters.

On Monday, Bill and Jodee drove me to the Sioux Falls airport. My flight to Chicago got delayed 14 hours and then more delays in Chicago.  So  glad to finally touch down in Indianapolis where I was picked up, fed and delivered to my mother's house by good friends, Bob and Jill.  After a quick visit in Indiana, I was back on a plane to Orlando by Thursday afternoon and departing for Haiti by Friday morning.  It felt like coming home.

Brought back some goodies for the kids and Melissa, so everyone was excited to help me unpack!

And that following Sunday, since I had missed Mother's Day, we had a do-over.  (Especially since Melissa was left here over a week to hold everything together while I travelled.) Apparently, without my coaching, three out of four kids forgot to even wish Melissa a happy Mother's Day on the actual holiday.  Oops!  With coaching, Samuel and Caleb managed, a week late, to assemble a nice little bouquet and ...

... breakfast in bed. I must admit, I have been a little more thankful and bit more attentive to my wife and kids since returning.  None of us knows how long we get. 

I had the honor of speaking briefly at Jason's funeral.  I took the opportunity to share an observation.  I knew the Midwest had suffered through a terrible winter, so it occurred to me as I got a glimpse of springtime beauty that there was no way I could possibly appreciate and treasure the spring like the folks who had lived through a tough winter.  The tougher the winter, the more joyous the spring!  I know that Bill and Jodee, Jonalee and Jennica, Jason's wife, Mindi, and their daughter are all going to have some awfully tough days ahead.  I know life will never be the same.  I know the sense of loss will make some days downright bitter and nearly unbearable.  It's going to be a tough winter.  But the reunion coming in Heaven will be a springtime like no other.  Not only will we be reunited with our loved ones, we will be in the presence of the King Himself. For eternity. 

Personally, I can hardly wait for spring.

IF WE CONFESS

Sweet and sacred moments with our littlest one tonight.  Sarah, our seven year old, came out of her bedroom a full half hour after we put her down for the night.  She whined to Melissa, "I can't get to sleep ... and I REALLY need to sleep."

Having attended a funeral last week for a 36 year old father of a little girl not much older than Sarah, I have returned home determined to simply BE with my kids more than I have been in the past.  None of us know how much time we have with our precious little ones. 

So even though I was in the middle of some computer work, I offered to climb into bed with her and tickle her back for a few minutes. (It's something she has loved since she was a toddler ... it would definitely not help ME fall asleep to have somebody tickle MY back, but it works for her.)

It turns out her lack of sleep was the result of a guilty conscience.  Mid-tickle she started to cry and all of a sudden she was confessing - in halting, tearful breaths - to all sorts of recent lies she had told to her sister, her friend and her classmates. 

I quickly called Hannah into the room and Sarah confessed a lie to her ... and was forgiven. Relieved, Sarah hopped out of bed to give her sister a hug. So precious!

I prayed with Sarah for forgiveness and then we went out to the living room again to confess to her mother (and teacher!) some lies and naughty behavior at school.  She was forgiven, hugged tightly, and Melissa prayed over her too.

Once again, I carried Sarah down the hallway, crawled back into her bed and began to tickle her back.  Now with a clear conscience before God and man, within a couple of minutes she was sound asleep. 

What a reminder to me of the importance of keeping our hearts unhardened by sin.

And of the power of confession.

AND of the potential ministry in my own household I miss out on when I am "too busy" to pay attention.

Lord, forgive ME...



"If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness."  1 John 1:9

"THE ONE WHO HAS TWO SHIRTS...

... should share with the person who has none."

"That is the verse they quoted to me!"

Last night I listened intently as Daniel explained a conversation he had had recently with some "friends" of his in his neighborhood.  They were quoting John the Baptist to him (as found in Luke 3) and taunting him: "You say you are a Christian, you say you are going to go to seminary, then PROVE you are a Christian."

They were rudely testing the sincerity of his faith with their demand that he make a willing sacrifice.

In the American church, we speak of the sacrifices associated with faith in Christ in largely abstract terms most of the time (- if we speak of sacrifices at all). 

We might sacrifice our "time", our "resources".

Daniel's neighbors were asking him to sacrifice his cat.

Not to become someone else's pet.  But to become someone else's dinner.

[Please note that eating cat here would be sort of like eating squirrel in the States in that some Americans enthusiastically eat squirrel - on rare occasions - while most would be turned off by the very thought of it. I don't think Daniel's "friends" wanted the cat because they were starving and there were no other food options, but rather because it was a somewhat novel "food" and they were trying to goad him into an unchristian reaction.]   

"When they said to me that they wanted to eat my cat and that he who has two coats should share one, I told them, 'I only have ONE cat. And he keeps the rats and mice from chewing on my book.'"

They persisted in asking for the cat. 

Daniel resisted in giving it. 

But in the end, the "friends" forcibly took the cat. Daniel came home one day a few weeks ago to find it cooking in a pot.

"So what did you do?" I asked him.

"What could I do?  As a Christian, I had to forgive them, and I did.  I did not want them to become my enemies."

And that was that.

With his eye on becoming a pastor, Daniel will be starting a course of study this coming August with our friends at Emmaus Biblical Seminary just down the road. 

I think he's going to do all right...