Saturday, February 28, 2015



I am very excited that “Going Numb” will be re-released this week in both e-book format and a new paperback edition. Both will be available through Amazon. This week I have edited, re-read, corrected and remembered. “Going Numb” was written in hopes that it would help someone that faces the darkness of drug addiction. If you know someone that is battling addiction or loves an addict so much that the pain is real, I hope you will consider sharing the story “Going Numb” with them.

Thursday, February 19, 2015

Just a moment to brag

My daughter, Sara Rose came home yesterday with a new tattoo on her left arm. "I am enough" the blue ink declares. That's not what I am bragging about.
Sara is nineteen, living in a world so different than the one I experienced at the same age. If I could choose to be any age I wanted today it would not include any of the arduous teenage years. These future navigators face many more challenges than we did in the 1960s and 70s. As a society we have practically forced them to grow up too fast. We don't let them be kids anymore. Perhaps they don't want to be and I guess that could be said of any past generation, but that doesn't excuse this drive to make them act like and be an adult...sometimes way to soon.

Sara has become an adult already. But that's not what I am bragging about. Nor am I lamenting. She did so by overcoming many obstacles and challenges she has faced during the last few years. It began the day her mother left this family. Almost immediately Sara took on the added responsibilities that were vacated by the abrupt departure of her mother.

But that's not what I am bragging about.

Sara navigated her way through Canyon High School, graduating last year with a good GPA. She did so facing numerous challenges and obstacles, some of those self-inflicted when she acted as a true teenager...staying out too late or hanging with the wrong crowd (on occasion). Yet she overcame each one, never allowing them to stand in the way of life and graduation.

But that's not what I am bragging about.

Around 18 months ago Sara became a mommy. Logan James entered the world, a needy little boy. Logan is a blessing to me, he invigorates this old man when I seem to need it the most. But Logan was born while Sara was still in high school and born with allergies to...well it seemed almost everything. Sara spent many nights holding Logan and administering breathing treatments, or calming his crying that if not calmed would lead to the need for a breathing treatment. She sacrificed the much needed sleep of a senior in high school, because she loves her son so much.

But that's not what I am bragging about.

Sara's tattoo reads "I am enough". She has recognized something in her short time here on earth that I still struggle with after more than 57 years. "I am enough" is not her way of bragging about her own ability as a single mom, or as a young woman in the real world. It's not bragging about facing challenges head on, often alone and into uncharted territories. It's not bragging that she will often choose to tackle the world by herself as if proving a point to the nay-Sayers In fact, "I am enough" is not tainted with gloat at all.

I AM, is God. Jehovah Jireh,  the God who provides. And what is it that he has provided Sara with? Many things, but it is not about the things. It is about what God is doing (providing) in her walk with Him. It is about what God does for those who believe and trust in Him, not about things that He provides. It is about God changing who we are from within. He does so with perfection, patience and love. Sara knows God. Sara knows that because I AM is enough, she can say "I am enough".

Sara, I am proud of you. You have learned something that I hope one day to understand. Until then I am only enough because of you.

I love you,
Dad

Wednesday, February 4, 2015

Lazarus



This Sunday I will be teaching from the 11th chapter of the Gospel According to John. Within the walls of this chapter is perhaps the greatest miracle to never be witnessed again. The story is filled with emotions that come when death enters into our lives. We even experience the emotions of our Lord Jesus Christ through the power of just two words, “Jesus wept.”
Normally I would reserve this space to share with you the Sunday’s Bible study after I had taught the study.  But things change.

I went into this study with hesitation. I did not know if I could teach a class on dying without thinking about... dying. I try hard not to let my thoughts wander down such a dark path with all of its twists and turns, knowing as the end of the path nears there may be a mile-marker with my name carved into the wood.

But with determination I avoided a macabre approach to the subject and instead studied Death as believed or thought of by other cultures in other times. Some of it was quite fascinating and I will be sharing that in class this Sunday…but not here.

Instead I wanted to share a short story with you about what happened to me yesterday.

I was in San Antonio to meet with a customer that I had not seen in a couple of years. I arrived in San Antonio earlier than I expected so I took advantage of the surplus time to have my oil changed and drove to my favorite pit stop. 

It was day two of my chemo-treatment, so hanging around my neck was Deloris. Deloris is my chemo-pump (model CAAD Legacy plus…I am still unsure of what the “plus” is), she hangs with me three days a week, every other week, pumping the lifesaving toxins into my bloodstream.  I walked into the small waiting area that is so common in every oil change mill that lines the highways. Three old vinyl-backed chairs (all with their vinyl split in the exact same spot) is all the comfort that is offered to the consumer; two of the chairs were available.

In the third chair sat a woman that I would guess to be a few years younger than me. She was pleasant looking and bundled up in a coat and scarf. She had the appearance of someone who likes to spend time making meals for a large family, always making sure that everyone comer muchas!

The owner of this establishment stood behind the small counter and asked me what type of cancer I was battling. He had already inquired about Deloris on the way into the shop. I have known John for a long time and didn’t mind sharing with him.
I answered “Colon-cancer.”
I saw how quickly the woman in the third chair sat up and knew that she had something to say.
“I too had colon cancer.” She told me.
“That was 25 years ago!”
She had my attention.

It takes less than fifteen minutes to have the oil changed in my truck; this stranger had all the minutes remaining to tell me her story.

Twenty-five years ago the doctors told her that she may die in surgery because of her health. Things were much different then, she told me. But she didn’t die. Then the doctors told her that she needed chemotherapy but that too had risks, including death. She told me again how different things were then; I believe she was trying to reassure me as she glanced at Deloris hanging around my neck. 

She told me she elected not to have the chemo treatments. Instead she chose prayer. After a short time she suffered further complications and was told that she would need a blood transfusion. She told the doctors no. She continued to pray.
She smiled, “That was twenty-five years ago, and I am still here, because of God.”

And then she told me that she is a Jehovah’s Witness.

I looked at her and I thanked her for sharing her story with me. Her car was ready, she waved at me and left.

This woman believes in a different God than I do. But there is no doubt in my mind that it was God that brought us together in that small waiting area of a lube shop. Just as there is no doubt in my mind and my heart that the God she doesn’t know, knows her. He loves her in the same way that he loves me…without conditions. 

This is not a story about theologies or beliefs and so I will not go there tonight. Other than to say that if our paths ever cross again I would thank her again and then tell her my story about Jesus.

In the 11th chapter of John’s Gospel there are three main characters and Jesus Christ. The story is about Martha, Mary and Lazarus. But at the end of this great story as Jesus prepares to call forth from the grave his friend, we see a crowd of mourners gathering. We don’t know much about them at all. I believe that the miracle that our Lord was about to perform was for their sake. You see Martha and Mary already loved Jesus. Their words tell us that they already believed that Jesus could have saved their brother. Martha believed that He could resurrect Lazarus; her understanding of the Resurrection was not yet clear.

I believe that there was someone among that crowd that didn’t belong, they were different. I believe that someone that didn’t believe in the same Lord as Mary and Martha, yet that someone had felt the pain of losing one that they love. I believe this person stood there waiting to see. I believe they stood there wanting. I believe that this person’s life was changed when Jesus cried out, ‘Lazarus come out.”
I believe that Jesus knew this person needed to see the true God glorified. Because God loved them first and will love them forever.

I believe that God loves the little Jehovah Witness that for a short moment in time gave me hope. I pray that she will one day come to know Him too.

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