TWO LOVES UNSEEN

(This post is reprinted from the Weavings: Friends of Dismas Newsletter and written by chaplain Harry Nigh.) 

Winterlude, 1995 and even for Ottawa it was bitterly cold. It had to be minus 28 degrees on the Rideau Canal that night. My friend and I decided to take one last skate late that night before we left for home in the morning. Except for an occasional monitor we were the only ones crazy enough to be out on that steel-cold ice.

I found myself scanning the lights of the homes and the apartment buildings as we skated along. I kept asking myself, "Could they live there ... or there ....or maybe there?"

Less than a year before I had received a liver transplant from a 42 year old man from Ottawa who had died of a brain hemorrhage. Over a period of at least 16 years an auto-immune disease had slowly destroyed my liver. Then out of the blue just before Easter, I received the call that a family had offered their loved one's organ and I was given my life back. All that we knew was that they lived in Ottawa.

It was totally emotional and unrealistic, of course - receiving a transplant is a roller-coaster of emotions, especially a gratitude that always takes me to tears - but I wondered if the family that had granted me that awful gift could be living in one of these lighted buildings. I was aware of a heart-felt closeness to them as we skated on the canal that night.

I would have loved to have met them to try to express my gratitude personally, but that was not possible. We could only send our thank you letters anonymously... and imagine who they might be.

So something resonated in me when I came across these words written to the early churches in 1 Peter 1: 8, "Although you have not seen him you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him..."

That's what I was feeling on the Canal that night. This ancient writer giving thanks for the offering of God's love in Jesus, "who emptied himself ... and became obedient to the point of death..."(Philippians 2: 7ff) was speaking the grateful language of a transplant recipient!

During his "Jesus period" Bob Dylan sang, "For all those who have eyes / and all those who have ears / It is only He who can reduce me to tears."

Many of you who walk alongside men and women coming back from prison speak of your gratitude for the people you have come to know. You tell me that in them, and in the unlikeliest of places, you have seen our Lord.

It's the profound enigma of Easter that He whom we have not seen can be known and loved for all those who have eyes and all those who have ears."

 

EXPECTATION AND EXPERIENCE

Terry Richardson was the former Director General of Chaplaincy for Corrections Service Canada with an emphasis on Restorative Justice.  I’m passing along a piece he sent out last year to chaplains involved in corrections.  Good thought on how our perspective changes everything.

Kevin Rogers

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“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.  For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.”  Matthew 7:7-8

One day, two men left their town and traveled to a new city.   They journeyed separately.   As the first approached his destination, he stopped to talk to a wise man sitting under a tree.  “Tell me sir, what are the people like in this city?” he asked.  The wise man replied, “What were the people like where you came from?”  The traveler responded, “They were mean and greedy, looking for every opportunity to get what I had!”  The wise man said, “You will find the people here like that too.”

Later, the other traveler encountered the wise man as he approached the city gates.  “Tell me sir,” he also asked, “what are the people like in this city?”   The reply was again, “What were the people like where you came from?”  This second traveler responded, “They were warm and friendly, always wanting to reach out and help.”  The wise man replied, “You will find the people here like that too.”

Two people having spent their time in the same place traveled along the same road.  They arrived at the same destination, yet with such entirely different perspectives.  Obviously the wise man’s question revealed more about each individual, than either where they came from or where they were heading.

The story is replayed among us.  It could be about staff at an Institution, about offenders doing their time, or about the journey of life.  Experience colors expectation.  The past affects the future.   The big question is: Do things deteriorate or improve?  One traveler becomes hardened and the other blossomed.  Strangely enough they both find what they look for.

What do you expect as you look ahead?  What attitudes are you carrying with you?  Will they drag you down or lift you up?  You know your own answers.

Like the travelers with the wise man, why not approach someone for a dialog about life.  God can help.  Spiritual resources such as worship, prayer, reflection, conversation with a faith leader, life in a faith community assist us in getting us past the hard negative attitudes.  It’s not magic, it’s a journey. It might involve deep thinking, laughing, crying, attitude adjustments … whatever reshaping of our experience is needed to reshape our expectations for life.  “Asking, seeking and knocking” are involved.

It’s too bad the first traveler didn’t walk with the second.  Then, he would have gotten to know someone warm and friendly, someone wanting to reach out and help.  That experience itself might have opened up a new horizon for him.

Walking alongside of each other.  Getting to know each other.  Taking a measured risk of trust. These can be spiritual experiences:  gifts from God that can lead to hope rather than frustration for the days ahead.  Why not walk with someone on your journey?

THE NEW CANADA

By 2031 one in four Canadians will have been born elsewhere.  Canada.com has an article at

http://www.canada.com/life/Growing+foreign+born+population+forge+Canada/2666075/story.html

GRIEF'S JOY

This one comes from guest blogger Connie Hale.

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“You will show me the way of life, granting me the joy of your presence and the pleasures of living with you forever”. Psalm 16:11

The pain was excruciating as I called an ambulance for my husband late one night. Tom had been suffering from stomach cramps for a few days but we thought it was just the flu. I will always remember that night because it changed our lives in a way that was inconceivable. A day later the doctor did emergency surgery and removed Tom’s colon. He was diagnosed with colon cancer and given a colostomy. The impact of hearing the word cancer was indescribable, but the devastation that cancer produces is even worse. It seems like this story should belong to someone else. How could this happen to us?

Our first visit to the cancer clinic was overwhelming for both Tom and I. We were told the horrible news that the cancer moved into his liver and lung and that he had 3 months to a year to live.

Tom started chemotherapy on and off for two years. The chemo that was administered to Tom was to try to save his ‘life’ yet in the process it began to destroy his ‘living’. Tom would be so weak and tired that he would sleep for days.

Even though cancer was trying to stop us from living we did not give in. We still tried to enjoy some good moments. When you have cancer you don’t think in terms of years, months or days. It was not the extraordinary events that were important, but it was the ordinary moments spent together that became ‘sacred’.

 As the months went by Tom refused further treatment. He wanted to spend the time with family and friends, laughing and making a difference in our lives…not in a cancer clinic. He wanted to be himself. He did not want cancer to destroy who he was as a person. He was not pretending that he wasn’t going to die. Tom knew that without a miracle from God, his time was limited. He wanted to make the best of that time, making memories we could all treasure.

One dark day the telephone rang, it was the doctor. He had looked at my husband’s CAT scan again and confirmed that after living with cancer for three years it now metastasized to his brain having only 3 months to live. I hung up the phone and proceeded into the bedroom and sat at my husband’s bedside to deliver the devastating news.

Only the sound of inconsolable sobbing from two people could be heard from that room. It was the ‘terrible beautiful’ moment.  Even though we had to look at death’s terrible face, the cold reality of its finality, we had a chance to take our eyes off this world and truly look eternity in the face to see His plan of salvation. With eyes filled with tears it took a lifetime to see beyond ourselves, and to look deep into the heart of God. Two people not understanding His plan…but felt loved by Him in the midst of our pain.

Tom talked about heaven about how God had a place for him. That he would get to see his mom who had died a few years before. In a half joking way, I said, “Tom wouldn’t you know it I am the ‘bible thumper’ and now it looks like you are going to get to heaven first.” Tom tenderly said, “Connie I will be waiting for you. However, I don’t think I will be getting many rewards.” I replied, “Tom ever since I became a pastor, you have stood by my side as I ministered the gospel; you will have every one of my rewards and more. You will be rewarded for being a faithful, loving, hardworking husband and father.”

For three weeks Tom battled the cancer that was now destroying his brain. He lost all movement on his one side of his body. He could no longer walk or feed himself. He said in those last days, “Connie I would really like to stay and fight but the fight is all gone in me.”  

In the hospital during Tom’s last moments of life I held his hand. He struggled to open his eyes to look at me one more time and in that moment I said my last “I love you.”  Tom and I professed our love to each other but marriage had forced us to prove it.

I realized today that it was a different ‘I love you’ said in that hospital room than the ‘I love you’ said so many times during our 33 years of marriage. It wasn’t the romantic ‘I love you’ said as we dated. It wasn’t the ‘promise to love you’ said at the altar. And it wasn’t the frantic ‘I love you’ of a wife running down the driveway waving good-bye, yelling out, “I love you” as my husband was hurrying off to work. It wasn’t the times of frustration with clenched teeth saying, “I still love you.” It wasn’t even the comforting ‘I love you’ of a couple who became friends. It wasn’t words said to win favor, or approval. The ‘I love you’ said in that moment became an ‘agape love’ that flowed from the Savior’s heart through me.

I had officiated my husband’s funeral with a glorious hope giving him the honor he so deserved. Many said I had great courage. But I was not courageous. Often people in the beginning mistake shock as strength. Living without Tom each day is courageous. Each day I had to say to myself, “Tom is gone and he isn’t coming back.” When I accepted the reality that I would live in this world for the rest of my life without Tom I truly began to grieve.

You can’t wait grief out or push it away; because if you do it actually grows. I had to go through this dark tunnel of grief head on. Grief is hard work.  I had to focus on God’s love, and His promises or I would get lost in self-pity, despair and the distractions of this world. Effective grief work is never done alone. When I talked about Tom and my turbulent feelings with family, friends and my church family I began to understand my grief and the journey through it.

As the months followed decisions became increasingly harder to make and my emotions were on a roller coaster of highs and lows. I became confused and fearful. During the day tidal waves of grief would hit me without warning and I was left struggling to catch my breath and at night I would wail in the darkness. At night I would lay in my bed and replay the moments just before Tom died in the hospital May 15, 2009. I helplessly watched him brutally suffer when I began to pray for Jesus to be merciful and take my husband home. Within minutes of that prayer I felt Tom’s heart stop and I was relieved. I struggled with that guilt for months. In my confusion I thought feeling relieved meant I was a terrible wife.

I was on a journey of wellness…spiritually, emotionally, and physically even through my grief.

I began doing things like exercising, going for long walks with a friend, seeing a Naturopath doctor to help me with a nutritional plan. I needed to attend to my physical well being that I neglected while Tom was sick.

 When I started to ask, “How can I grow through this tragedy to become a better person?” I began to see grief having a purpose. I founded Faith Kept Ministries. It is a ministry that ministers to the sick and elderly. My life was given a purpose and I felt I was following God’s plan to bring a joy to the sick and lonely by visiting and listening to them. I began teaching how to minister to the sick and the elderly in various churches. Giving to others brought joy to my grief.

I hated eating my meals alone, no one was there to talk about my day, no one to greet me when I came home and I had no one to kiss good-night. During this period of grief a crucial choice was to be made. Would I focus on my loneliness or would I focus on ‘God with me’? I needed to feel and actually experience His presence. I needed to hear His voice but at times my pain spoke so loud that I couldn’t see or feel anything else.

If I truly believed that Jesus is with me, that He loves me, and that He would help me out of this darkness then I had to choose to rejoice in that hope. Each day I would sit quietly and listen for His voice, read His word and pray. I committed my time and my heart’s desire to search for Him in the darkness of my grief. I soon discovered that even grief can have joy if we are in the presence of the Lord.

“Don’t be afraid, for I am with you. Do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you I will help you. I will uphold you with my victorious right hand.” Isaiah 14:10

As you read my story, maybe you are grieving some loss in your own life. Do you choose hope over despair? Do you choose joy even in your grief?  There is only ‘one thing’ that will comfort you and me in our pain. It is a Saviour who loves us so much that He will never leave our side. And in that we can rejoice!

“I know the Lord is always with me. I will not be shaken, for he is right beside me.” Psalm 16:8

Written by: Pastor Connie Hale

Faith Kept Ministries

www.faithkeptministries.com

connie@faithkeptministries.com

Author of: “Champion Over the Darkness”

PRAYER OF A GRATEFUL BUS DRIVER

“I was driving my bus down the mountain early one morning.  I was looking over the city, and there was no-one on my bus so I stretched out my hand and prayed.  I said, ‘Lord, I would really like to be a blessing – to be used by you in some way.  I just want to touch Hamilton in some small way or a large way – whatever you have in mind.”

Ken Goobie prayed this prayer as a thirty-three year veteran driver for Hamilton Street Railway.  At a time when many career people are looking to coast to a finish and collect their pension, Ken was talking to God about his future.

Ken Goobie

A random workday drive was interrupted by the thought, “What can I do to give back to my employer for all these years of provision?  Wouldn’t it be great if I could pass on some of my experience to new drivers before I retire?”

Later as he walked past the Director of Transit’s office, Ken remembered the prayer and decided to act on it.  An impromptu meeting with the director opened with Ken suggesting, “If I came up with an idea, a plan or some kind of program to assist or help you, would you be interested?”

Assured that the director was absolutely interested, Ken moved down the hall to another administrator’s office and was met with another enthusiastic response.

A third party was approached, but it fell on deaf ears.  The third man was negative about the company and did not believe anything would help.  (That man later left the company).  A negative response to that meeting, but in a parting gesture he threw a trade magazine at Ken.

“Maybe there is something in there that will interest you”, he added as Ken left the office.

The magazine was from the Winnipeg transit system and included an article about their mentorship program.  A mentoring coordinator was featured telling how he was helping the drivers.

Thinking that this might be the right strategy, Ken called Winnipeg and spoke with the mentoring coordinator.  Acquiring notes and materials, he took it back to his boss and began piecing together a mentoring program that could benefit the Hamilton drivers.

The company flew Ken to Winnipeg to be trained and research the program.  Upon returning, the program was tailored for Hamilton and launched.  Expecting that there could be a dozen people participating, Ken was amazed to find over forty employees sign up.

Ken was not the only one amazed.  Hamilton Street Railway had a one hundred and fifty year history which included its share of labour and union tensions.  The mentorship program launched with a surprising degree of positive, team-building response.

The program matches experienced employees with new hires.  Through coffee meetings, they share experiences and struggles related to their public servant roles.  The new employee benefits from the wisdom and knowledge of veteran drivers.  The veterans make a valuable contribution back to the company that has been their provider.  No participant is left feeling alone in the workplace.

Word spread to the City of Hamilton Public Works department.  With over 6000 employees, they wanted to know how Ken was able to get such a positive response.  Eight of their managers met with Ken and the HSR team to find out more.  Among other things, they wanted to know what Ken’s motives were in launching the program.

“Look – I have been operating a bus here for thirty-four years and I would just like to say thank you out of appreciation for years of having employment.  I have raised my family, I have a pension and I can retire in the near future if I want.  This is just a small token to say thank you.”

One of the men from HSR told Ken later, “Ken, you know what really sold them on this idea?  It was when you said, ‘I want to help out of appreciation’.  That blew them out of the water because they’ve never had person come in to say thank you.”

In Ken Goobie ‘s story we see a snapshot of noble service.  His attitude is exemplary and models a heart shaped by God’s love.  Gratitude is a fitting motive for service.

Pastor J.H. Blair used to bring Ken as a teenager to Braeside Camp.  Together they would work at cleaning up the camp in preparation for its season of ministry.  During times of shared service, a servant’s heart was imparted to Ken.  A lifelong friendship ensued.

A week before J.H. died, his wife Rosie called Ken to come.  Ken had worked as a barber and J.H. needed a shave and a trim.  Ken viewed J.H. as a great man and he loved him.  It was no inconvenience to perform a small act of service for the one he loved.

In the Kingdom of God there are no insignificant servants.  Each one motivated by love is able to do good work and influence those who follow.  You never know what the bus driver ahead of you might be praying.

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Ken Goobie

kdg@mountaincable.net

905 765 8651