What's Good about Good Friday?

There can be no joy of Easter without the pain of today; no resurrection without death. Here is some of the text of my favorite sobering hymn for today, expressing our depth of gratitude; I fell in love with this text in college a decade ago. It was written 1000 years ago by St. Bernard of Clairvaux. For those of you taking notes, I would like this to be sung at my funeral.


O sacred Head, now wounded, with grief and shame weighed down,
Now scornfully surrounded with thorns, Thine only crown;
O sacred Head, what glory, what bliss till now was Thine!
Yet, though despised and gory, I joy to call Thee mine.

What Thou, my Lord, hast suffered, was all for sinners’ gain;
Mine, mine was the transgression, but Thine the deadly pain.
Lo, here I fall, my Savior! ’Tis I deserve Thy place;
Look on me with Thy favor, vouchsafe to me Thy grace.

What language shall I borrow to thank Thee, dearest friend,
For this Thy dying sorrow, Thy pity without end?
O make me Thine forever, and should I fainting be,
Lord, let me never, never outlive my love to Thee.

My Shepherd, now receive me; my Guardian, own me Thine.
Great blessings Thou didst give me, O source of gifts divine.
Thy lips have often fed me with words of truth and love;
Thy Spirit oft hath led me to heavenly joys above.

Be Thou my consolation, my shield when I must die;
Remind me of Thy passion when my last hour draws nigh.
Mine eyes shall then behold Thee, upon Thy cross shall dwell,
My heart by faith enfolds Thee. Who dieth thus dies well.

">

LIFE- tragic, abundant, wrenching, beautiful.

Life is so fickle. This past week in my mailbox, I received on the same day both a wedding announcement/save the date card, and a merchandise credit to Williams-Sonoma. One couple of friends got married in Switzerland, and are coming stateside to have a celebration in Santa Barbara this summer. I couldn't be happier for them. Another couple dissolved their new marriage and returned all of our gifts in the mail. I couldn't be sadder for them. The irony of that juxtaposition in my mailbox struck a chord with me. I am reminded of Ecclesiastes 3. Its scope is beyond me.

When we first moved to TX, we decided not to go to the west coast for the holidays. We wanted to save money, which was a good thing, since in March we'll be going to both California and Seattle for a week each. Some old friends in Houston invited us to spend Thanksgiving with them and we were very excited to do so. We had the most lovely day, and shared it with one of the coolest families I have ever met. Their name is the Alford's and their huge southern mansion in Houston's artsy district could not have been more beautiful. It's beauty was far eclipsed, however, by the love in that 5 person family. They had been through a hard year, as the father, Gene, had been paralyzed from the waist down in an accident on their farm (a tree pinned him down on his tractor). Gene is a prominent surgeon, and navigating the life changes after that tragedy was, and continues to be, challenging. But the love and support and joy we experienced in their family in November was palpable, the tragedy just made them stronger as a family.

I am sad to say that this past week, tragedy struck them again. I have no idea why tragedy strikes, but our hearts are groaning with and burdened for the Alford's and we would love if you would pray for them. The youngest son Charles had just turned 16, and was so excited to be given a car from his grandparents. He was driving back from west TX, when he was struck and killed in an accident. His mom was in the car with him and also injured. She is now temporarily joining her husband in a wheelchair. Her grief and strength are unimaginable to me. You can see Charles' sweet face and read his obituary here. Please pray for Gene, Mary, John and Bess and their extended family. Charles had a keychain with the verse Is. 41:10, a verse other friends of mine have chosen to uphold in the face of death as well, as it says a promise from God, "Fear not, for I am with you." May we all cling to that truth amidst the tumult of life here on earth.

Life is short, tragic, beautiful, fulfilling and wrenching, if we fully live. I suppose we could numb ourselves throughout it, a la Zach Braff in Garden State, one of our most favorite movies, but I would rather feel deeply, all of the heights and all of the depths combined. I don't know what strange and hard things you may be getting in your mailbox, facing in your family or facing in this questionable economy, but I am going to join the chorus of those trusting that amidst it all we need not fear, for God is with us.

A Time to be Born and a Time to Die

January 10th is a day we won't soon forget. Our dear friends Cara and Joel welcomed their baby Ingrid into the world this morning. We could not be more thrilled. We rejoice in her life and pray for all the power and beauty that it will entail as she grows up with her amazing parents. We can't wait for the Flory and Evans next generation to learn God's heart for adventure together.

And simultaneously, Carin and Jeff say goodbye to their baby Ben at his funeral this afternoon. We could not be more devastated for the grief they feel, we hoped this day wouldn't come. Ben's 3 year old body is free of cancer, he is at peace; but those who he left behind will be reeling for years, with questions and pangs of longing and fleeting moments of joy when they think on his life.

We are mourning and grieving with those who mourn, and laughing and rejoicing with those who feel joy this day.

There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under heaven:
2 a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,

3 a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,

4 a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
-Eccl.3:1-4

Serving up some Christmas Joy!!!

This is the best story ever. Ever. And it is so cool to have been a small part of it.

Towne Family

Sweet Little Ben

A week ago, Carin Towne wrote on their Caring Bridge blog about 3 year old Ben's desire to "serve (a tennis ball) just like Roger Federer." If you have not yet read their blog, do it right now. You will never forget it in your life.

So anyway, compelled by the desire to bring joy (albeit limited) to this family, I wrote Roger's mom and his US agent an email. I told them Ben's story and attached their blog. Why not, right?! Ben's body is ravished with cancer, and his days are limited. He has already suffered more than any human should have to, in his short life. Then my brilliant friend Shannon also cast her net wide and found a friend of a friend (of a friend, you know how that goes) who knew Tiger Woods, and another that had been on the tennis circuit as a pro years back and could call the head of Nike Tennis.

Long shot, right? NOPE!! Less than a week later, little Ben Towne got a couple surprises in the mail and on the phone today and yesterday... I can't tell you how happy that makes my heart. Read his mom's account to hear the story; it is so sweet in the midst of their pain which is anything but that. I am so grateful for all the strings that were pulled to reach Roger, James Blake and Andy Roddick within a week. Their willingness to reach out to Ben makes me even more of a tennis fan! I was partially disappointed, because I was literally praying that Roger would get on a plane in Switzerland, leave his vacation, to come to Seattle and visit Ben. Ben is MORE than worth it. And that hasn't happened (yet). But I'm still overjoyed in the joy that Ben felt being contacted by those 3 guys. Now I'm starting to pray for FREE 2009 US Open tickets for his parents. They want to go in honor of Ben. They have suffered the worst pain imaginable the past year, and are hanging in there by the grace of God. The most riveting sentence in their recent blog is his mom saying she wishes Ben's life could be saved by the love that has been shown to him this past year. So if you haven't been til this point, start praying: who's with me!!!!

Mariage and Divorce: Holding on to Hope

There was some song in the 90s that had the lyrics "Joy and Pain, Sunshine and Rain" (I think they included a "pump it up, pump it up!" if you recall). That's where I am this week. Two special friends just got engaged and are glowing, couldn't be happier to spend their lives together. They asked us to stand up in their wedding with them, we could not be more honored to do that, and we're thrilled to walk alongside them, and they us, for this season of life in S. Texas and whatever future seasons we may have near them.

There's some scripture about sharing in the joys of some and the sorrows of others. Simultaneously, as one couple of friends is joining, another couple of our friends are contemplating ending their marriage, and for them my heart is wrenched. I wish I could say that this is the first time I've known people my age to get divorced, but that's far from the truth, even in my 20s. I'm a product of divorce too, so I know the damage it causes kids intimately. It devastates me that over half of today's marriages end in divorce. I'm not saying that in every circumstance it should be avoided, but how flippantly people can treat something so destructive is the dangerous part.

For Christians, marriage is a covenant relationship, not just a contract that you enter into for a time, to get out when the going gets tough; yet that's how we often treat it. We promise "for better and worse." God's covenant faithfulness to us never ends, yet our commitment to each other is all too often thrown out the window in favor of self-preservation, a natural (but not always Biblical) instinct. The problem with the promise we make in our weddings is, that when we say the words for better or worse, we never imagine that WORSE will come. All we can imagine is the BETTER. Maybe we theoretically believe that worse could come, but the form of it always takes us by surprise. Maybe we are devastated. Maybe we are betrayed. Some mix of pain and anger consumes us, and trust is lost; even worse, hope is lost. And that is deadly.

Comparison is never helpful, but I know that Los and I haven't had as easy of a marriage as some, nor as hard of a marriage as others, so I can't imagine the pain some of my friends have felt or currently feel, as they wade through the muck and mire that was once their hope and dreams. I don't know how their situation will end. All I know is that I watched their mouths utter the words for better or worse, and that makes me feel responsible to lift them up in their pain and fight for their marriage, for reconciliation. For redemption, for resurrection from death to life. We don't have to rest on our own strength, God's word promises to make us new creations, if we'll let God transform us (through God's word, yeah, but also through counseling, and good community.) I believe that if their hearts would be soft and repentant, and if they could extend the grace (that God extends to us first!!) they have received to their partner, who badly needs it; then hope is not lost. It is right to feel betrayed and wronged when you have been, absolutely, you deserve something/someone better, absolutely. But that doesn't mean that can't be with the spouse you have promised forever to. Maybe I am wrong not to validate the desire for divorce in this circumstance, but unless their pride and self-preservation proves me otherwise, I'm going to hold on to this hope, that God will do a new thing in their lives, and rebuild what has been shattered. Please join me from afar, in prayer, for my friends in Seattle.

I've been listening to a song by my favorite artist, David Crowder, a lot. The lyrics are a lot of my prayer, that God is with us from the beginning til the end and can meet us in the midst our pain/wounds and repair what has been destroyed in our hearts. May we all be made new. Enjoy.

">

pain (Los' first blog)

If you are not familiar with ben towne and his cancer, case and i urge you to make some time and read about his life. the following is a link to his blog.. find it here.

For any parent who has ever loved their kid, or any person who has ever loved anyone for that matter, this story will wrench your heart.

The Death of My Evangelical Computer

First off- a little history lesson: I am a smidgen evangelical, mostly Reformed Christian. Among other things, this means I resonate with Luther, Calvin and others, who, 500 years ago, stood up to the Catholic Church and said, "no, people- we aren't saved by paying off our sins (the purchase of indulgences was quite popular back then, the richer you were, the more you could sin- a good gig if you were wealthy)." Rather, as Scripture says, we are saved by grace, through faith.

Reformed Christians, then, put a lot of weight down on that grace, given to us at the cross. This is fleshed out differently than our evangelical siblings in faith, who place a heavy weight on a "personal decision," a "come to Jesus" moment. Those are the people that have altar calls. That memorize four spiritual "laws" and knock on doors. That go "bring Jesus" to the "unevangelized" in our cities and around the world, without authentic relationships or context. For them, that singular moment takes the cake. "When were you saved?" is a question that evangelicals ask. And God forbid you die without "accepting Jesus as your personal savior," though you'd be hard-pressed to find that kind of language in the Bible...

Reformed Christians, however, put more weight on God's sovereignty; it's not about when I accepted Christ, but about living into the identity, the freedom that we can have because of and in Christ. I wasn't saved on Feb. 20, 1994 when I heard the gospel, I was saved 2000 years ago on a cross at calvary, I just happened to realize it in 1994, and then only by God's revelation. And I am continually learning what that means and the rest of my life will be discovering how to "become what I am."

All this to say, my computer died yesterday. It has been "dying" for a while now, but I was hoping it would make it through the summer- call me stubborn, but I freaking wanted to finish my Master's with it. Alas, it was not to be. I had just installed Biblical software in the morning, which was the last thing it could take. Carlos came home and when I told him what had happened, he joked that my computer was waiting to accept Jesus on it's deathbed and then it was at peace and ready to go.
If you were a theology student like me, you'd appreciate the irony there. So RIP, my iBook G3. You've lived a good, long life. Now MacBook here I come!!!

Death is not Victorious

So the story behind my story. I didn’t tell the judge, but I will tell you guys. The day I got my ticket was my saddest day on-call at the ICU. I didn’t even really know how to write about it, it made my head spin. Instead, I stopped writing about my time as a chaplain at the hospital all together- not a good thing, but my coping mechanism. Recently, we went out to a great dinner at Quinn’s Pub (highly recommended!!) with our wonderful friend Jodi, who is a therapist. She made me consider illuminating this to get closure on that piece. So here is what I wrote about that day and why my head was elsewhere when I was pulled over:

What is it about when young people die that impacts me more than when older people do? My heart reels- it seems like such tragedy when young lives are lost. This past week I’ve spent time with the family of a 20-year old WWU student. He just thought he had a cold. A COLD!?!? People get those all the time, why would you think twice about it? But then it morphed into pneumonia, and before he asked his buddies for help, it became too late. What is it about our pride that gets in the way of asking for help?

By the time he made it to the hospital, his organs had started shutting down. He looked healthy and handsome, like your average vibrant student… but the inside of him was slowly dying. And what makes me so upset is that it could have been prevented! The value of community is another blog to be written, but augh!!! To see machines keeping him alive was devastating to his friends. They wept at the sight of him; and there’s something about strong, young males weeping that stirred me.
(segue: I’ve only seen my brother cry out of sorrow one time, and it was also at the death of a friend. Why does our culture say it isn’t okay for men to cry? That is ridiculous, because the squelched sorrow usually turns into anger or depression. I am all for free-flowing tears, get the emotion out people!)

By the time Chris’ parents disconnected life-support, 20 people had gathered into their son’s room. People were coping very differently, pacing up and down the hall, wailing and shaking, or frozen numb. His sister’s eyes were flashing with anger and she berated her parents for not matching her level of emotion. Melody, I will never forget her. Her parents are Christians, and although devastated at the loss of their youngest son, they also had a “peace that passes understanding.” Death is not victorious in their mind and while they will miss him like crazy, at least in the hospital, they seemed to have perspective that was a consolation. Melody, on the other hand, doesn’t share their faith, and had nothing to root her, so her powerful emotions were blowing her around with hurricane force.

I tried my best to be strong for her and for them, as well as all of Chris’s friends as they grieved in their varied ways. In all of my time at the hospital, I have never cried with a patient. Some times I would cry on my way home, or later in a day that something powerful happened. But not that day, I had barely stumbled back to my office when I couldn’t hold my sorrow back any longer. That feeling of helplessness just sucks. I imagine that’s something I’ll encounter a lot in parenthood too, people need to go through what they need to go through to grieve, learn, and heal, and there’s nothing you can do to rescue them- it would actually be dangerous and unhealthy to do so.

I hold on to the promise of Jesus’ resurrection, that in the end all things will be made new, and that death does not get the last word. But that only helps so much when you’re watching people writhe in pain. There’s no neat and tidy way to end this blog- it is what it is; and it took me 3 months to even say this much, so I’ll leave it at that. But I will say go hug someone, be intentional with those you love and for God’s sake, TELL someone if you’re not feeling well!

What will they say about you?

Last week I went to the funeral of a woman I had never met. Her name was Carol, and she had been through a 10 year battle with cancer. I was kind of nervous to feel like I was 'intruding' on this piece of closure for her family and friends; but I really wanted to go, so I sat in the back and pretended I was invisible.

The tributes people gave to her life were so moving that I started crying. Her neighbor shared that her 5 year old daughter, upon hearing of Carol's death, declared she would "never be happy again." For a 5 year old to say that about anyone, let alone an elderly neighbor, is pretty amazing. Countless people stood up and testified to Carol's graciousness and hospitality. I was impressed that she, as a white woman, had been married to a black man for over 40 years; interracial marriage was rare in the 60's. She couldn't have her own kids, so she opened her home to many international students for conversation practice and hospitality. Two whole rows of Asian students sat there weeping quietly. Many of her co-workers and small group members shared accounts of her positive impact on them as well.

As I left, I felt so full of gratitude for this marvelous woman's life. The few hundred people there painted such a beautiful picture of her through their words. It made me think about what people would say about me when my time comes. If someone sat in the back and pretended they were invisible at my funeral, or at yours, what would they learn? What are our lives about? Who would come? What would people say, what choices are we making now that will translate into touching a person later? I wonder if we thought about this more now, and lived our lives accordingly, if we wouldn't be more generous, more gracious, more kind, and more apt to reach out and welcome others with the time we have.