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Is that a high five, or a “talk to the hand!”?
Baby has my eyes. A whole body with all of the parts and moving pieces, merely as big as my thumb.
Thank you Lord, for we are fearfully and wonderfully made!
My love and prayers to Aaron and Lisa. Thanks for the pixie dust and happy thoughts!
Humans are notoriously short-sighted creatures. We’re filled with expectations, plans, hopes, fears. . . yet the truth is we can’t see much beyond this moment.
Our vision becomes blurry quickly as we stare into the minutes ahead trying to discern what will happen and how it will affect us.
We don’t even know yet if it will rain today, or if Aaron will bust out into tears before the day is over, or if Lisa could possibly be any more beautiful than she is at this moment, or whether any of you will be doing the chicken dance tomorrow night . . .
This is why I (we all) love weddings: a decision has been made, a commitment to see what comes – to the adventure.
Together . . .
The commitment becomes the key. It is the known variable . . .
The commitment says, “Since this is true, then . . . “
This reminds me of the poetry of the book of Genesis: God saw it was not good for man to be alone. So, the story goes, he took a rib from the man after causing him to fall into a deep sleep, and from that rib he formed woman.
Adam said, “you are bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh.”
God said, “for this cause shall a man leave father and mother and cleave only to his wife, and they shall be one flesh.”
I like that old-English word “cleave.” It has a sense of desperation to it. It means to cling. To stick. To not let go.
Commitment . . .
My favorite author is an 83-year-old Presbyterian minister from Vermont, Frederick Buechner. He says this about the idea:
Because the promises that are made in a marriage are not just promises to love the other when the other is lovely and lovable, but to love the other for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, and that means to love the other even at half-past three in the morning when [one of you] is crying and to love each other with a terrible cold in the head and when the bills have to be paid. The love that is affirmed at a wedding is not just a condition of the heart but an act of the will, and the promise that love makes is to will the other’s good even at the expense sometimes of its own good – and that is quite a promise.
Aaron and Lisa, I really have only one question for you today . . . Is that the kind of promise you’ve made?
It’s quite a promise: A promise that doesn’t have the benefit of foreknowledge. That would be an easy promise to make.
They are promising to see together what life will bring.
They are promising to walk beside each other, to carry each other when need be; to love one another through and in spite of the unexpected.
I’ve already had the pleasure of watching a bit as they’ve done that while planning this event.
It’s a beautiful thing to watch.
Finally, then, I’m reminded of the poetry from the Song of Solomon with the Shulamite woman and her Beloved, and what she says to him about going to see what life will bring:
Come my Beloved, let us go out into the country. Let us spend the night in the villages. Let us go early to the vineyards. Let us see whether the vines have budded, if their blossoms have opened, and if the pomegranates are in bloom.
There I will give you my love. The mandrakes send out their fragrance, and at our door is every choice fruit, both new and old, which I have stored up for you, my Beloved.
In honor of one little Miss Kaiyah Rain Powell, “full of Grace”, who passed from this side after a mere 8 weeks and 2 days of joy in the comfort of her mother’s womb, and whose story of beauty and priceless worth has permanently altered me, and to her parents and siblings, whose friendship grows more precious by the day, I offer the following entirely inadequate memorial, in utmost humility, admiration, and hope, quoted from one upon whose words I could hardly improve, with all glory intended solely for He who alone makes life and does all things well:
“. . . After this, it was noised abroad that Mr. Valiant-for-truth was taken with a Summons by the same Post as the other, and had this for a Token that the Summons was true, That his pitcher was broken at the Fountain. When he understood it, he called for his Friends, and told them of it. Then said he, I am going to my Father’s, and tho’ with great difficulty I am got hither, yet now I do not repent me of all the Trouble I have been at to arrive where I am. My Sword I give to him that shall succeed me in my Pilgrimage, and my courage and my Skill to him that can get it. My Marks and Scars I carry with me, to be a witness for me that I have fought his Battles who now will be my Rewarder.
“When the day that he must go hence was come, many accompanied him to the River-side, into which as he went he said, ‘Death, where is thy Sting?’ And as he went down deeper he said, ‘Grave, where is thy Victory?’ So he passed over, and all the Trumpets sounded for him on the other side . . .” — John Bunyan, Pilgrims Progress
This I know: my life is in your hands. I breathe because you breathe into me. My heart beats because you sustain it.
I want to want whatever you have for me. Whatever that is will be best even if it is not my safety or comfort. You are best. The cross is best. The resurrection is best.
That includes whichever babies you want me to have or not have.
Bring to me your blessings, Lord, and I will endeavor to embrace them with my whole heart. Whether beauty or pain, ease or distress, perplexity or clarity. I will desire to embrace it with all I have, for your sake, your glory, your fruit.
You know, of course, I am human, prone to weariness and wandering and poor discernment. I will fail in this endeavor. I cannot consistently overcome. Yet it is my longing.
I will struggle. This alone I can promise. Work in me your salvation and life production and I will struggle to stay with you and not against you as you work.
Bring it, Lord. Here I am, send me, make me, mold me, use me, raise me, love me, crucify me. Make me yours and give me whatever I need to produce what you need.
This is my longing . . . in ignorance and blindness, and folly, and insufficiency.
I am nothing without you! Give me what I need to be what you need. I will be satisfied to serve you with all that I have and to return to you what you’ve given with hope it is multiplied a hundred-fold.
You see my heart and know if I am true. I do not.
Help me, Lord, to live from my desire and not from my fear. In fear all of this is an empty promise, a prayer of vanity.
Amen.
Occasionally, Renee will call me while I’m at work and ask for me to speak to one of our kids about particular behavioral issues. For some reason, my voice over the phone carries a little extra magic that can have a positive influence on such situations. It’s a Dad thing I guess.
I like those times, in some ways. It makes me feel useful, I suppose, and it’s nice to think I can help my children and my wife navigate a tough day.
Sometimes I get a bit gruff, but mostly, being distant and caught up in a work day gives me an objectivity I lack when I’m home. In those cases, I can offer a voice of reason and a bit of a fatherly threat perspective that changes the dynamics.
Sometimes, there are benefits to talking to my kids on the phone. We have intimate moments as they explain to me the events that brought us together for a conversation. Sometimes, they teach me things through and after those moments.
Like, for example, what happened with Ben on a recent Monday. Ben is rarely the problem child, but on this particular day, he was having a hard time negotiating the troubled waters of a small house with a big family. His attitude was in the toilet, let’s say. Renee asked me to do a little plumbing.
Dad: “What’s up, buddy? You having a hard day?”
Ben: [with tears] “Yes.”
Dad: “Why? What happened?”
Ben: “Well . . . “ [more tears, sniffling, and whining] ” . . . blah, blah, blah, they said, blah, he, blah, she, blah, blah, then . . .”
Dad: “Okay, okay, okay! Never mind. I got it. Here’s what I need you to do . . . you listening?”
Ben: “Yes.”
[This is where I pull stuff out of a hat and see what happens. When I said, "Here's what I need . . . ", I had no idea what I was going to say next. Don't tell my kids about that part, okay? I have to say, though, this moment of inspiration was original and produced a better result than most of my stuff.]
Dad: “Okay . . . get on your bike . . . and ride down to the park at the end of our street. Okay?”
Ben: “Well . . . “
Dad: “Nope, I’m not finished yet. Are you listening?”
Ben: “Yes.”
Dad: “Ride your bike to the park. Stay there for 30 minutes. Think about your day, and clear your head a bit, okay?”
Ben: “Ohhhkay?”
Dad: “While you’re there . . . and be careful crossing the streets . . . write me a note. Take a piece of paper and a pen, and sit down at the park . . . be sure to tell Mom where you’re going . . . and write me a note while you’re down there. Okay?”
Ben: “Well . . . but . . . what should I write about?”
Dad: “Whatever you want. Tell me about your day. Tell me about what’s going on. Just write me a note. It doesn’t have to be long. Just a few sentences. Just write me a note about whatever you want to say.”
Of course, I had to explain this story to Renee and convince her it would be fine in spite of the way I just messed up her schedule for the day.
But these are the moments when parents learn profound things, though seemingly simple, from their children.
Ben has an amazingly tender heart, a beautiful heart, a heart of worship and love. I love him more than I can say.
Thanks, Ben, for teaching me, and all of us, a little about heaven before we have a chance to “mature” it out of you. Thanks for giving me permission to publish your stuff and share this story.
Later that night, I found this note in my closet:
It’s a simple question, really: What are we doing to each other?
Or, for those of us who need a little more priming of the pump: What impact and influence and affect do we have on the people around us?
Or, for those of us who wonder what the heck I’m getting at: Are we helping people up, to be what they’ve been made to be, even if it’s through constructive criticism, discipline, and tough-love, or are we keeping people down, preventing them from being what they could be?
For that matter, which people are we talking about?
Okay, maybe it’s not so simple, but I wish it were.
As I try to figure out what I’m getting at - what my heart’s trying to tell me – I’m reminded of something Jesus said when he was railing against the Scribes and Pharisees. It seems to be relevant to these thoughts:
“You’re hopeless, you religion scholars! You took the key of knowledge, but instead of unlocking the doors, you locked them. You won’t go in yourself, and won’t let anyone else in either.” Luke 11:44 (MSG)
And another cool one, from the KJV: “Ye blind guides, which strain at a gnat, and swallow a camel.” Matthew 23:24.
(I’m not at all sure that second verse is relevant, but I like it anyway. It’s fun. I mean, who uses gnats and camels for illustrations? Seriously.)
So, I’m wondering, I guess, are we enabling, encouraging, inspiring, emboldening, exhorting? Or, are we disabling, discouraging, deflating, and whatever other words are the opposite of those in the other sentence?
See if you can follow this: I’m picturing two gears, rotating in opposition directions, whose cogs (or whatever those knobby things are called) meet in the middle. Just for sake of this little picture I’m inventing, let’s say one of them is the driver and the other is dependent on the driver for motion.
If you’re the driver – the gear who is influencing and affecting the other gear – the first question is: What drives you? What makes you move? What fuels your fire? (I guess those are actually the first, second, and third questions.)
The next question is: Where your gears meet the next guy, are you putting upward or downward pressure on him? (Feel free to change the gender of the pronouns if it inspires you.)
I know the analogy breaks down when you add more gears and variables, so let’s not do that, because this is a simple question; remember?
What are we doing to each other?
Maybe we’re not doing anything.
Maybe we’re holding others down to gain some selfish advantage.
Maybe we don’t even know what we’re doing.
Maybe we know but we don’t want to talk about it.
Maybe we can’t figure out how to stop.
Maybe we need Jesus.
Maybe we need to speak the truth in love.
Maybe that means we acknowledge blind guides and hypocrites for what they are, but maybe we do that “in love”, offering what we have for the redemption and benefit of others rather than the oppression of others and exaltation of ourselves.
I don’t know, maybe I’m off base.
I’m just asking.
What are we doing?
I’ve paid a hefty ransom, and negotiated deftly with a certain blognapper, to release this blog from bondage. It has cost me dearly, but it’s done.
Just for the record, you can be assured, once again, that in the end, good always vanquishes evil.
Now, where was I . . .
By the way, I really love that woman.
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