Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Long day in the hospital

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Today was a long day. Debbie had an appointment for a blood transfusion at 10 am. I went to the university to teach my classes, and then over the hospital at around 1 pm. She was still waiting for the six hour procedure to begin at 3 pm. I lost my cell phone, found it, knocked off my side view mirror by colliding with a mail box.

While I was sitting in the hospital with Debbie, I remembered trying to write the last 10 pages of my masters thesis in 2005 while Debbie was getting surgery to install her port. My entire academic process has overlapped with her battle with cancer.
I left the hospital to run over to FIU for a quick dance lesson with Jennifer. The salsa classes really reduce my blood pressure and keep me from getting depressed. Joy is an elusive quality but very real.

Thank you Lord for giving grace for this day. Now I ask you to grant me rest, and refreshment and recovery for Debbie and a new day full of new grace tomorrow. Amen

Thursday, January 19, 2012

Sons, Mosquitos, voices and JOY in the Everglades

My son was born in 1986. During his early years, I was a ministry work-a-holic and I did not spend as much time with him as I should have. When I did spend time with him, I was often tense and irritable and had my mind on really super important “ministry and pastoral” issues (please notice the subtle hint of irony). Sometime around his 13th birthday, I realized that I was way behind the eight ball with him and started trying to make up for lost time.

I started taking him on camping trips going kayaking with him as often as possible. One year, we went camping in the Everglades National Park near Flamingo, as far as one can go south on the Florida mainland in the Everglades. We sat up our tent near the water. The next morning I woke up early and fixed my coffee on a camp stove. He was still sleeping by 8 am after I finished my coffee and so I decided to go for a prayer walk. It was my habit to spend some time reflecting each year between Christmas and New Year’s while considering my goals for the coming year. I had brought with me a journal to write in and several ministry oriented books to read.

I took off walking on a heavily overgrown path that wound West along Florida Bay. Although it was the fourth week of December, it was rather warm and the mosquitos were out in force. I soon found my self slapping mosquitos with both hands while walking briskly and trying to pray. I eventually blurted out “God, what do you want me to work on this year?” I blurted it out almost angrily, frustrated with the dive bombing insects. You have to understand, my prayers often sound like a quarrel with God. I try to justify it as “manly” prayer … kind of like king David exhorting God to wake up and punch out the wicked.

When I asked “What do you want me to work on?” I clearly had in mind a project or a measurable goal. An action item. Several things flitted through my mind … but from a place deep in my spirit, I heard a surprising one word answer: “Joy.”

That was it—Joy.

I prayed a second time.

“No, God. I don’t think you understand (oh the monumental narcissism of that statement!) I mean – what do you want me to WORK on?” A second time came the monosyllabic answer: “JOY.” That’s it. Just one word, no explanation at all.
When I returned to our camp a half hour later, I found John awake and waiting for me. I told him immediately that I had been praying. I said “the strangest thing happened to me—when I asked God what he wanted me to work on, I thought I heard a simple one word answer – “JOY.”

My son looked at me with a crooked, ironic grin. “Dad—he said—that sound like God was really talking to you if you ask me.” I didn’t really understand what he was saying, but that moment stuck with me over the next 11 years, as my wife was diagnosed with stage 4, metastasized cancer, my family with through a series of life-altering crisis and I watched my so-called ministry slowly suffocate and die.

When I finally came to terms with the fact that God really was speaking to me, and that the most important thing I could “work on” in the year 2001, was joy, I slowly became determined to be joyful. Grimly and soberly determined. Clinching my teeth determined. I would learn to be a joyful person even if it absolutely killed me, damn-it! And it almost did.