Friends

Sometimes I think about what I have done in life. I haven’t really accomplished much - but this I have done: I have made friends.

My friends are my treasures. I am really grateful for them.  I know that with a friend I am just me: i don’t have to try to be smarter or more competent than I am, or have things figured out.  I know that they like me. They get me. I liken it to sending off sparks: I send out these sparks - ideas, thoughts, intuitive leaps … and my friends catch them and send them back instead of extinguishing them. One of my friends even made me a sweatshirt with sparks embroidered on it …. That’s how much she got me.

And I don’t have to put on the right face for my friends. Through some really dark, despairing times, my friends stayed in it with me, even when I was inconsolable.  It’s a hard place to be, staying with someone when there is absolutely nothing you can do or say. When I couldn’t see God at all - I saw them, there with me.  

Today a friend (oh, such a treasured friend!) shared something about Moses and Abraham being friends of God “The Lord used to speak to Abraham face to face as a man speaks to his friend.” And one of my favorite verses, John 15:  “I have called you friends, because everything the Father has made known to me, I have made known to you.”  I like that!  Jesus sending out sparks. Telling us what is really important to him. Inviting us to be in it with him.

I want to envision God more like a friend.  Sometimes I get so messed up with expectations (you are GOD, so FIX this!) or being afraid of disapproval (still!) or looking for “intimacy”.  (OK, I admit it right now, I don’t think I get what “intimacy” with God even means!)  But friends… I do get that. I can be friends.  

More of the Backstory...

While the Pope was at Auschwitz, he visited the cell of Maximillian Kolbe. Father Kolbe  had a vision for using the mass media to reach Poland with the message of Jesus.  He built a friary just west of Warsaw, which eventually housed 762 Franciscans and printed eleven periodicals, one with a circulation of over a million, including a daily newspaper. Here is more of his story...and the link between Kolbe and why we were at World Youth Day...*

Maximillian Kolbe

In 1930 he went to Asia, where he founded friaries in Nagasaki and in India. In 1936 he was recalled to supervise the original friary near Warsaw. When Germany invaded Poland in 1939, he knew that the friary would be seized, and sent most of the friars home. He was imprisoned briefly and then released, and returned to the friary, where he and the other friars began to organize a shelter for 3,000 Polish refugees, among whom were 2,000 Jews.

The friars shared everything they had with the refugees. They housed, fed and clothed them, and brought all their machinery into use in their service. Inevitably, the community came under suspicion and was watched closely. Then in May 1941 the friary was closed down and Maximilian and four companions were taken to the death camp Auschwitz, where they worked with the other prisoners.

“n the harshness of the slaughterhouse Father Kolbe maintained the gentleness of Christ. At night he seldom would lie down to rest. He moved from bunk to bunk, saying: "I am a Catholic priest. Can I do anything for you?" A prisoner later recalled how he and several others often crawled across the floor at night to be near the bed of Father Kolbe, to make their confessions and ask for consolation. Father Kolbe pleaded with his fellow prisoners to forgive their persecutors and to overcome evil with good. When he was beaten by the guards, he never cried out. Instead, he prayed for his tormentors.

“In order to discourage escapes, Auschwitz had a rule that if a man escaped, ten men would be killed in retaliation. In July 1941 a man from Kolbe's bunker escaped. The ten were selected, including Franciszek Gajowniczek, imprisoned for helping the Polish Resistance. He couldn't help a cry of anguish. 'My poor wife!' he sobbed. 'My poor children! What will they do?' When he uttered this cry of dismay, Maximilian stepped silently forward, took off his cap, and stood before the commandant and said, 'I am a Catholic priest. Let me take his place. I am old. He has a wife and children.

Astounded, the icy-faced Nazi commandant asked, 'What does this Polish pig want?'

Father kolbe pointed with his hand to the condemned Franciszek Gajowniczek and repeated 'I am a Catholic priest from Poland; I would like to take his place, because he has a wife and children.' Amazingly,  he acceded to the request. Franciszek Gajowniczek was returned to the ranks, and the priest took his place …

Father Kolbe was thrown down the stairs of Building 13 along with the other victims and simply left there to starve.  Maximilian Kolbe encouraged the others with prayers, psalms, and meditations on the Passion of Christ. After two weeks, only four were alive. The cell was needed for more victims, and the camp executioner, a common criminal called Bock, came in and injected a lethal dose of carbolic acid into the left arm of each of the four dying men. Kolbe was the only one still fully conscious and with a prayer on his lips, the last prisoner raised his arm for the executioner. His wait was over …

Franciszek Blachnicki

One witness of this was a young resistance fighter named Franciszek Blachnicki. When he saw what Kolbe did, he wondered “why would a man give his life for someone he doesn’t even know? That question led him to put his faith in Jesus. He survived Auschwitz and became a Catholic priest. Like Father Kolbe, Father B was a visionary. He started a movement among young people which by 1980 had about 80,000 young people coming to camps every summer.  Like Father Kolbe,  Father B had a vision for what he called “The Great Evangelization” - “to reach out with the gospel to every person in Poland.”

When he met Joe, an American student who had been a leader in Campus Crusade, he asked if Campus Crusade would send people and materials. When he saw the Jesus film, he determined to have it shown in every parish in Poland through his network of priests and volunteers. Films, projectors and a complete printing press were smuggled into Poland. It is estimated that 7 million people saw the film, shown in parishes, on university campuses, and even in the Gdansk shipyards during the Solidarity strikes. The vitality and personal faith we witnessed in the Polish church is largely due to Father B and to his friend, Pope John Paul II. **

Father B. was in on a trip to Germany when martial law was declared and he was not allowed to return to Poland. He died in Germany in 1987.

When Father Kolbe offered to give his life in exchange for another, he had no idea that watching him was a man who would take up his vision. He simply followed his Master in laying down his life. That is how the gospel works. When we follow Jesus, we have no idea of the implications, no idea of how God may use our obedience, large of small to fulfill his dream - and ours.

Teams from Russia and the Northwest at World Youth Day, Krakow2016

*http://www.fatherkolbe.com/content1.html
** See also The Pope We Never Knew: The unknown story of how John Paul II ushered Campus Crusade into Catholic Poland. http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2005/may/13.34.html

World Youth Day!

I have a crazy plan to tell you about  … but it needs some backstory!

Terry and I went to work in Eastern Europe in 1980 (Weren’t we cute? And that hair!) . Our first assignment (one week after we landed in Vienna!) was to travel to Communist Poland to meet with a priest named Franciszek Blachnicki.

“Father B” had come to faith while imprisoned  in Auschwitz for his role in the Polish resistance.

He  survived Auschwitz  and became a Catholic priest with a vision for reaching all of Poland with a renewal of faith in Christ.He started a movement of young people called Oaza (Oasis).  In 1974, he

met Joe, a Cru student studying in Poland, who showed him  the “Four Spiritual Laws.”  “ We need this!” said Father B. “Can you send people to help us?” That was the beginning of a cooperation that resulted in thousands coming to Christ.  

By the time we met Father B in the summer of 1980 there were about 80,000 students coming to camps, hearing the gospel and being trained with our Bible study and evangelism materials - all under the noses of the Communist government! One summer team brought a copy of the film “Jesus” with them,  got caught by the police with the film  and expelled from the country. They went instead to Rome to show the film to Father B’s good friend from seminary, Karl Wojtyla … otherwise known as Pope John Paul II! He gave it his approval, which opened the way for the film’s use in Catholic countries.

Our job was to help Father B to show  “Jesus”  (which had been translated into Polish) in every parish in Poland.  He needed films, projectors … and 20 million copies of the gospel of Luke!  Terry devised some clever ways to get those into Poland … including having an entire printing press smuggled in. His skills went to good use as he put it back together and set up a secret printing operation in the attic of a rectory.

It is 40 years this summer since the first Cru  team went to Poland… and because of that connection, I have a unique opportunity this summer!

The 2016 World Youth Day, a massive rally of youth  with Pope Francis , will take place this summer in Kracow, Poland. The archbishop of Kracow has asked Cru to come as official volunteers to do evangelism among the 3 million spiritually interested youth from 187 countries who will gather in Kracow.   And I was asked to lead a team from the Northwest to join with Cru students from a number of countries to volunteer.  

It really is a crazy plan … but I have sensed that this is something that God is inviting me into.  I am always talking to students, telling them not to be afraid (fear seems to be a big problem with this generation of students) but to follow Jesus! And I felt that this is a time when I need to go - in spite of my fears.  I told the Lord that I would go if 10 people would go with me …

We have a group of  17 … including two students who were refugees from Iraq … a couple of Polish speakers, a seminary professor, a digital media maven, and some younger staff. And … our son Dan is bring a team of Russians as well!  

please pray!  This is all daunting to me - and I need prayer!

1. The dates are July 22-August 1. Please pray that all will go well at home with my mom and Laura. I find that often when I am about to go on a ministry trip - things happen.
2. Pray that we would all encounter Jesus as we follow him in this, and that He will lead us to the people who need to hear the gospel personally in that vast crowd.  He knows them…

Ten Commandments for Mature Living #7

Live in a more radical sobriety.

“Maturity does not mean that we are perfect or faultless, but that we are honest.”

As I have had occasion to talk to people who go to AA meetings, this is what is striking: the emphasis on honesty.  Admitting to the truth about yourself. Being desperate enough to stop trying to cover it up.

I don’t know of any practice more necessary for human maturity than confession: radical honesty. Instead of admitting to the truth about ourselves we tend to blame someone else, make excuses, lower our standards, or feel guilty and try to do better. None of those are confession; simply admitting what is true of us, standing there in the light of God.

I wonder what would happen if we began our church small groups with “Hi, my name is Carolyn, and I am a sinner.”

“If we walk in the light as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus cleanses us from all sin. “

Ten Commandments for Mature Living #6

Bless more and curse less!

The mark of a deeply mature man or woman, the mark of a very mature disciple of Jesus, and the mark of someone truly giving their life away is this: he or she is a person who blesses others and blesses the world, just as God does and just as Jesus did.

...to bless someone is to see and admire that person, to speak well of him or her, and give away some of your life so that he or she might have more life.

Blessing by seeing is one of the deep archetypal functions of all royalty, all parents, and all who lead others in any way: God blessed the world by seeing it… Normally blessings work from the top down, from those who have more power to those who have less… Young people may not overtly want the blessing of their elders -but they desperately need it.

I just finished JK Rowlings first novel for adults, The Casual Vacancy.  (Warning: it has graphic and disturbing parts, and therefore I do not recommend it for everyone.) I liked it a lot - (I finished it Sunday afternoon instead of taking my usual nap and walk in Washington Park! ) and I think this is why:  It is a novel that sees people. It takes you beyond the surface to see people as they are.

One of the characters, Krystal,  is a foul mouthed, promiscuous, angry 16 year old girl. Krystal has grown up with an addicted mother in “The Fields” - a drug and crime ridden housing estate. Her life is portrayed in unvarnished realism.   The novel opens with the death of the one person who ever really who blessed her - who saw her, saw something admirable in her, who spoke well of her and gave away his life so that she might have more life.

Barry Fairbrother came to the high school to put together a girls rowing team. He brought a rowing machine and asked for volunteers.

“Krystal Weedon”, said Barry, pointing at her. “I’ve seen you dangling off the monkey bars down the park; that’s proper upper body strength you've got there. Come and give it a go.”

Krystal ...swaggered up to the machine and sat down … heaved on the handle, making a stupid face… “Look at that!” Barry had said. “She’s a natural. Straighten your back. Thats it. Pull … pull… have you done this before?” Then Krystal really had straightened her back, and she really had done it properly….She hit a rhythm.

“Excellent!” said Barry. “Look at that, excellent! That’s how you do it!”

What was it that Barry had? He was always so present, so natural, so entirely without self-consciousness. Teenagers …. were riven with the fear of ridicule. Those who were without it, and God knows there were few enough of them in the adult world, had natural authority among the young…

But at the end of the exhibition, when Barry asked those who were interested in trying out for the team to raise their hands, Krystal kept her arms folded. Barry carefully noted down the names of the interested girls, then looked up.

“And you, Krystal Weedon,’” he said pointing at her. “You're coming too. Don’t you shake your head at me. I’ll be very annoyed if I don’t see you. That’s natural talent I see there. I don’t like to see natural talent wasted.”

Had Krystal thought about her natural talent as she showered at the end of the lesson? Had she carried the thought of her new aptitude around with her that day, like an unexpected Valentine? … to the amazement of all, except perhaps Barry, Krystal had turned up at tryouts… Barry had liked Krystal. He had seen in her things that were invisible to other people’s eyes.

In Sacred Fire Rolheiser writes:

In summary,we bless others when we see them, delight in their energy rather than feel threatened by it, and give away some of our own life to help resource their lives. Sadly, the reverse is also true: we curse others when we demand that they see and admire us, when we demand that they speak well of us, and when we use their lives to build up our own. A gesture of blessing feeds others; a cursing gesture feeds off of them.

Krystal, who had only ever been cursed, was, for once, blessed.

“Bless more and curse less!”

Ten Commandments for Mature Living #5

“Forgive: those who hurt you, your own sins, the unfairness of your life, and God for not rescuing you.”

“...and God for not rescuing you…”

I have had a lot of crises in the past 5 years - and I have been pretty mad at God. OK, real mad at God. For not keeping my friend Laurie’s cancer from coming back and killing her. For my daughter being in terrible pain and not being able to help her. For giving me all these people to take care of - when, as everyone knows, I’D RATHER BE READING A BOOK!!

I always tend to rescue people if I can. Seeing people in distress makes me uncomfortable, and sometimes rescuing them is more about my discomfort than about them. If I were God, I would be rescuing people even when they needed to not be rescued. (I am not a good leader for that very reason. Not a good god either, btw.)

One thing I have discovered is that I am a lot stronger than I thought. I never liked to quote the verse “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me” because I mentally thought, “No, really, I don’t think I can…”  But  these last years I have fought and persevered more than I ever thought I could. So I am beginning (just beginning, mind you, and maybe a little reluctantly) to forgive God for not rescuing me.

I so, so don’t want to be a bitter, unforgiving old person.

Ten Commandments for Mature Living  … #4

“Let suffering soften your heart rather than harden your soul.”

‘Suffering and humiliation will find us all, and in full measure, but how we respond to them will determine both the level of our maturity and what kind of person we are going to be. Suffering and humiliation will either soften our hearts or harden our souls.”

“There is no depth without suffering”,  writes Rolheiser. “It can make us deep in understanding, empathy, and forgiveness, or it can make us deep in resentment, bitterness and vengeance…. And we have to make that choice daily: every time we find ourselves shamed, ignored, taken for granted, belittled, unjustly attacked, abused,or slandered we stand between resentment and forgiveness, bitterness and love. Which of these we choose will determine both our maturity and our happiness.”

I don’t think I can add anything to that … except to pray that the Spirit of God in us will give us this grace to choose well.

Ten Commandments for Mature Living #3

Transform jealousy, anger, bitterness, and hatred, rather than give them back in kind.

“Any pain or tension that we do not transform we will transmit.”

Jesus “took in hatred, held it, transformed it and gave back love; he took in bitterness, held it, transformed it, and gave back graciousness; he took in curses, held them, transformed them, and gave back blessings; and he took in murder, held it, transformed it, and gave back forgiveness.”

Just think about that one for a while: whatever we do not transform we will transmit.

Carrying Life’s Complexities

Ten Commandments for Mature Living #2

This weekend I went to a party. It was a celebration that took place in the midst of a very difficult and painful circumstance. There were old friends, loving children and grandchildren, good food and wine, laughter, and poetry to celebrate the guest of honor. That is, some of the very best things in life. It was a celebration in the midst of a sorrow - or maybe a sorrow in the midst of a celebration.

I also (against my better judgement, as such movies generally make me crazy) watched a “Christian” movie. And yes, it did make me crazy, until we began to think of it as a mockumentary … a Christopher Guest movie about Christians, sort of “Waiting for Guffman” meets “Spinal Tap.”  And then we roared with laughter and guessed everything that would happen next (down to the dead guy’s cell phone message… and now you know what the movie was.)

The thing I hated of course is that it was so predictably “Jesus fixes everything.” Unambiguous. Happy endings. (Even for the dead guy who miraculously had a deathbed … or rather deathstreet) conversion.

Real life is more ambiguous - more like the sorrow in the midst of the party. I believe that because of Jesus, the party is the lasting thing, and the sorrow the fleeting. But until then, there is tension. Hence, this week’s invitation:

Be willing to carry more and more of life’s complexities with empathy.

Few things in life, including our own hearts, are black and white, either/or, simply good or simply bad. Maturity invites us to see, understand and accept this complexity with empathy, so that, like Jesus, we cry tears of understanding over our own troubled cities and our own complex hearts, and like Jesus, too, we can forgive others, the world and ourselves for this complexity and imperfection.  

Ronald Rolheiser

In the torment of the insufficiency of everything attainable, we come to understand that here, in this life, all symphonies remain unfinished.

Karl Rahner

Ten Commandments for Mature Living

This summer I have been reading (at the suggestion of Father Kenny and Laura Benge) Ronald Rolheiser’s book Sacred Fire: A Vision for a Deeper Human and Christian Maturity.  In one chapter he elaborates on Ten Commandments for Mature Living.

The ten commandments given us in Scripture are warnings intended to keep us from falling into sin and into places where we should not be. They are not the standard for holiness, but a lowest common denominator, the minimal requirement for morality, the benchmark below which someone should not fall. Hence, each of them is prefaced by the command, ‘Thou shalt not!’. The series of commandments here for a mature discipleship have a different intent, to invite us to a higher place, to a deeper maturity and a more intimate relationship with God and one another. Hence they are invitations rather than commands, and consequently each begins with a positive invitation.

For the next 10 weeks I am going to attempt to practice one of these. And I may just blog about them (which may help me keep going) and include some quotes (what a surprise, Carolyn offering quotes!) and a few thoughts.  No promises.

The first one is this:

Live in gratitude and thank your Creator by enjoying your life.

Gratitude is the basis of all holiness. The holiest person you know is the most grateful person you know. That is true too for love: the most loving person you know is also the most grateful person you know because even love finds its basis in gratitude. Anything we call love, but that is not rooted in gratitude, will, at the end of the day be manipulative and self-serving. If our love and service to others does not begin in gratitude, we will end up carrying people’s crosses and sending them the bill.

(Referring to Luke 17:7-10) What Jesus is doing in this parable is drawing the distinction between what comes to us by right as opposed to what comes to us as gift. If each of us were given only what is owed to us, we would live like that servant just described. But we are given more, infinitely more. The real task of life than is to recognize that everything is a gift and that we need to keep saying thanks over and over again for all the things in life that we so much take for granted…

As well, our gratitude is meant to carry something else: enjoyment of the gift that is given to us. The highest compliment we can give a gift giver is to enjoy the gift thoroughly. We owe it to our Creator to appreciate things, to be as happy as we can be. Life is meant to be more than a test, and so we might add this to our daily prayer: give us this day our daily bread and help us to enjoy it without guilt.

Our level of maturity and generativity is synonymous with our level of gratitude- and mature people enjoy their lives.

“We will end up carrying people’s crosses and sending them the bill. “ Yikes.

I decided to do this today because I am so tired of being a caregiver. And on the verge of sending everyone the bill (spending the morning on the phone with Social Security and the afternoon at a doctors office can add up to a substantial bill…. just saying…) Angry at doing things for people. Sorry for myself. Gratitude far away. No grateful feelings in this heart.

So because I cannot muster up gratitude (reflecting my low level of maturity, see last sentence above!), I am practicing. Practicing giving thanks when I do not feel thankful. Practicing takes me to a place that  I cannot get to by trying. So here is my invitation to practice this week:

Live in gratitude and thank your Creator by enjoying your life.

I said to my son Roger one day, “I don’t do physics.”

He, patiently, answered, “You do physics every day.  You just don’t know it.”

I am realizing more and more the size of what we glimpse in Jesus... “That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have looked upon, and touched with our hands concerning the word of life...”

There is so much that I don’t understand. Prayer, for example:  yesterday there was a desperate, seemingly necessary plea left apparently unanswered, and  the same day, another surprising intervention that is so exact that I cannot believe it to be coincidence? What is up with that?  (“If You are answering prayers today, God ... HOW ABOUT THIS ONE!!!”).

We have done each other a disservice when we try to explain things too much, as though we understand  everything. Reality, the action of God, life, love, resurrection are all great mysteries.  

We do them every day. We just don’t know it. 

The Fellowship of the Lymies

We are in the Lyme doc's office. Everyone is here because they are sick. Some desperately so ... in a wheelchair, on oxygen, unable to walk or talk or see or think clearly. Others don’t look as sick. But they can’t function fully. They are too weak, in too much pain, too foggy in their brain. Some are new to this, and tentative. Will all this be worth it? They have tried so many doctors before. Some are clearly getting better – they will tell you their stories, about years of sickness, then hope and treatment, and now some health, some vitality. They tell us about their protocol, what helped and what didn’t, how they spent everything they had to get to health, how grateful they are to those who have helped them. They give us all hope, and help us to persist.

The prescribed treatments are long, painful, and complex.  No two are quite alike, because the progression of each person’s disease is a little different.  The doctor prescribes and guides your treatment, but you have to say yes. You have to participate.  There are medicines to be taken, things to be avoided, regimens to be followed. No one does it alone. A friend or spouse or family member has been there to hand them the pills, hook them up to the IV, push them in the wheelchair into the office. Restoration comes slowly.

Online, I read reviews of the practice. “They saved my life”... “They are disorganized” ... “they want you to take all this expensive medicine.” Some have given up and settled for existence instead of life. Too hard, too long, too expensive. I don’t want to take all those pills. I can’t afford to come to this doctor. Maybe there is an easier way.

But we are here by faith. We have enough evidence to believe. We pay the cost and follow the regimen. Where else could we go?  And in the process, it is good to be here. The other patients and their caregivers understand. We are the Fellowship of the Lymies, in it together. Getting well.  “Yes,” we tell the others, it is worth it. Stick to it. The doc knows what he is doing, even though he may not be explaining it to you. (Would we understand it all anyway??)  He gets people well.”

I have told you a parable. He who has ears to hear, let him hear.

Gwen's Mama

"When the poor and needy seek water, and there is none, and their tongue is parched with thirst, I the Lord will answer them, I the god of Israel will not forsake them. I will open rivers on the bare heights, and fountains in the midst of the valleys; I will make the wilderness a pool of water and the dry land springs of water. I will put in the wilderness the cedar, the acacia, the myrtle and the olive; I will set in the desert the cypress, the plane and the pine together so that all may see and know, all may consider and understand, that the hand of the Lord has done this, the Holy One of Israel has created it. " Isaiah 41:17-29

"Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, ‘out of his heart will flow rivers of living water’”

 

Gwen’s mama died this week.  I didn’t get to the funeral – but I heard about it, and I can picture it.

My friend Gwen came home to Kentucky from Vienna, Austria, ten years ago to take care of her mama who had developed Alzheimers.  It was  hard to leave Vienna. Gwen had a rich life in Vienna, and a ministry with diplomats and women at the United Nations from all over the world.  She gave it up, and moved  to Kentucky.

Gwen is a lifegiver wherever she is.  Instead of diplomats, she became a lifegiver to her Mama. And her cousins. And the lady across the street, and the hospice nurse, and the students she met at the college each week ... and  to whoever came across her path.  Friends came from all over to visit her. Not because they were sorry for her, stuck there in that little town... but because they wanted to get in on it, to be around her, to be refreshed by the life that flows from her.  (And maybe some of them also wanted a piece of her coconut pie. I’m just saying...)

The funeral, I gather, was a glimpse of the life she brought. Instead of a old woman dying alone, Gwen’s mama’s life  and home had become a garden. Because of Gwen.  The desert of old age, memory loss, and illness was transformed into a garden of love, kindness and joy, because there was a fountain there. The funeral was an opportunity to see and know, to consider and understand, that the hand of the Lord has done this, the Holy One of Israel has created it.

It is, after all the way He does things. By His Spirit and His word,  He makes people into springs and rivers, springs and rivers which make the deserts bloom.

A Tribute to Roger Robinson

This is the tribute, given by my son Roger, to my dad Roger at his funeral on November 29, 2012.

Hello everybody, thank you very much for coming. For those of you who don’t know who I am, my name is Roger. I was named after my grandfather. It’s a real honor to be here.  Thank you for coming ...I really appreciate all our family and friends. You have no idea how much it means to know that he was loved and that we are too.

 I wanted to talk about who he was, why I think he was so special, what his character was. When I thought about this, about the words that describe him, the word that I kept coming back to was love.  Now I know that can sound cheesy, but... He was a private man, he didn’t always say what he was thinking, what he was feeling.  I am kind of the same way.  But he showed his love through his work, through what he did for people, through his service.

He met Gloria, his wife when they were young. They were roller skating, she was with a friend. He came up and he asked her to skate... and he was faithful to her - they were married for 67 years. And he loved her the whole time. When he was in the hospital he would keep talking about her, saying what a wonderful woman she was, how lucky he was to have such a wonderful woman.  We were calling to make appointments at the hair salon, and the lady there said “Oh, he was such a sweet man, he and Gloria were so sweet to each other, and so connected.” The fact that someone who barely knew him would have that impression of them just speaks volumes about the kind of person he was.

I don’t cry because I am sad.  I cry out of love. I just loved him so much. It’s okay that he is gone. I am happy that he does not have to suffer any more.  I just loved him so much that I am overwhelmed by it.

He loved his family. He worked two jobs;  he was a trained instrument maker: he was skilled and intelligent. He also worked a second job as a janitor so he could support his family. When he was in the hospital, on his deathbed, he kept trying to get up, to do something ... to wash the dishes or something. My mother was there next to him, and she was stroking his cheek and saying to him, “ Its OK dad, everything is done. You don’t have to do anything. You can just rest.”

He loved his friends too. He didn’t have very many close friends, but he the ones he did have he really loved.  Like his friend Dennis... when he had brain surgery that left him partially disabled,  Roger helped him to learn to walk again.

Yes he loved his family, his friends, his wife. He also really loved pie. Mincement pie, chocolate pie, pumpkin pie, he loved it.  In the hospital on his tray of food there was some carrot cake – guess what he ate first? He loved dessert. I guess I inherited that.

He as a very joyful person. I live in Seattle, not very far away so I was able to come and visit and every time I would come, I would walk into the room and he would look up and his blue eyes would light up and he would say “Oh, hi, Rog!”

I was his grandson, so I didn’t know him when he was younger, but he was a young boy’s dream when he would come to visit us when we were living in England, or when we went to visit him in Colorado. He was so much fun. He loved adventure. That’s what we would do.  He used to run, ride his bike; he ran up Pikes Peak. He loved to golf and fish. He loved the outdoors; he loved to be in nature. 

We went along with him sometimes, but I think his serious adventures he had by himself. After he retired, Gloria was still working. She didn’t really know what he did all day, she imagined him sitting at home, tidying up or puttering around the house, but no, not him! He was out having adventures. He would pick up some of the ladies from the church and he would take them skiing, they’d ski all day, he’d come home and he’d rush around and tidy up and Nana would come home and ... she wouldn’t know.  For years she didn’t know.

We went to visit him and he had this old Scout and we would drive around the city, and for some reason (I’m sure that this was his idea) he decided that we were never going to stop, ever .  Driving around in this scout  ... red lights, stop signs, it didn’t matter, he wasn’t stopping!  If there were cars in the way, he’d figure it out, we weren’t stopping. That was just the kind of man he was. He was a kind man and a gentle man, but he was not a tame man. He was truly wild at heart.

He also loved being peaceful, being quiet. He loved to play golf. His golf swing was not fast, not powerful:  it was smooth, it was round.  After he retired he went back to school took college courses in geology and German just because he liked to learn about the world. He was interested in many things. His garden was the best garden on the greenway.  People would go by and admire it. Even as an old man, when he was weak, we’d find him outside, weeding.  He had a terrible back, he was in terrible pain and he’d be out there pulling weeds. We’d say,” Pop-pop you don’t have to do that!” and he would say “I know, I just saw that one and I thought I would get it.” He was not a man to sit in a chair and watch TV even thought he was suffering.

He was a great craftsman. He had a workshop that was immaculately ordered. He made things for his kids and his grandchildren  ... a dollhouse ... he made my brother and I wooden swords so we could hit each other... what kid wouldn’t like that? He loved fly fishing and he would make intricate flies... they were amazing,  it would take him hours. Everything he did he liked to do well.

He was also very patient.  When his daughters Kathy and Carolyn were young he would read them stories at bedtime and they would argue about whose bed he would sit on. They couldn’t stop arguing so he pushed the beds together and sat in the middle! But there were limits to his patience.  When he was trying to teach Lisa, his granddaughter , to play golf ... she’s is left handed and he said “No. Not possible.” Or when he was trying to teach his daughter Carolyn to drive a manual transmission ...  in his Porsche. That didn’t go well.

He quietly helped people. He worked with Silver Key delivering food to people who couldn’t leave their homes.  He and his daughter Liz visited one lady ... they cooked her meal, set the table ... it was Thanksgiving, and she didn’t have anyone to take care of her. He didn’t talk about these things  - he just did it.

From him I could learn to love, and to love life... to be fierce... to be joyful. Galatians 5 reminds us that the fruit of the spirit is love and joy, peace, patience, and kindness and goodness, faithfulness,  gentleness and self-control .....  And when you think back on his life if you knew him, every one of these words describes him.

 

So I tell you, the Spirit of God was with him while he was on earth. And it is my prayer for each and every one of you that the Spirit of God would also be with you each and every day. Thank you so much for your support.

 

 

Rachel Held Evans is hosting a "Week of Mutuality."  Here is my contribution to the syncroblog!

I always thought I was a complementarian. (According to the Council on Biblical Manhood and Womanhood, complementarianism "affirms that men and women are equal in the image of God but maintain complementary differences in  role and function.") Then Lianne Roembke, author of Building Credible Multicultural Teams and a woman I greatly admired, asked me how our marriage actually worked.

As a young wife I trusted Terry’s judgment more than my own. He was so logical, so convinced that he was right,  could state his reasons for coming to any decision, and rarely changed his mind. I had gut feelings and changed my mind ... a lot. But he (smart guy that he is) listened to me and learned to trust my intuitions.  We never, that I can remember, made any significant decisions that we did not agree on. I do not remember him ever trumping my views because he was the “head”.  Our roles and functions could not be described as “lead”  and “submit.”  We always functioned as equal partners, under the authority of Jesus, seeking to respond to the Spirit of God and to represent His kingdom.

As the years went by, he helped me to become more confident in my own insights, my own thinking and my own wisdom. When he had surgery to remove a brain tumor in 1993, was hospitalized for 5 months, and subsequently faced with a long rehabilitation, we had new roles to play. I had to make the decisions. I handled the finances, dealt with his medical issues, sold the house, organized an international move, and supported the children as they were uprooted from their homes and established in another country. I did it well, with the grace of God and the help of many. 

In the subsequent years, Terry (who is by the way, is the best and most Jesus-like person I know)  encouraged me as I went back to school to get my Master’s degree and established a new role in ministry in Campus Crusade for Christ.  (“They need what you have,”  he said.) He enjoys hearing my insights, is influenced by what I am learning, and is glad I read all those books and give him synopses (so he doesn’t have to read them.)  He likes the (rare) opportunities that I have to speak at church – because my sermons are good. I could never have done what I do without his encouragement and support. He helps to create an environment in which I can thrive.  

There have been other men with who have done the same.  Dr. James Houston and Dr. Bruce Hindmarsh, professors at Regent College who treated my work with respect when I felt like the escaped housewife in a classroom full of bright young men;  Steve Ellisen and Matt Mikalatos who as my bosses in Campus Crusade for Christ gave me a platform;  and colleagues  like Bob, Darren, Jason, and Kirk who have always sought out my contributions and valued my gifts.

My very wise mentor, Ney Bailey, told me “you be responsible for the depth of your ministry, and let God be responsible for the breadth.”  I  don’t want to fight for a voice or a place at the table (or on the platform.)  But I love it when men like these act like Jesus and fight for me.  Thank-you, brothers.