Difficult Seasons

I’m taking a holiday break from blogging.  I took a couple of days off last week, and probably won’t post the rest of this week.

Hope you’re enjoying your holidays!

The episode of House is on where they tell the guy that he doesn’t have cancer after all.  And he’s mad.  Because he sold his house, had three good-bye parties, and is fixing to leave on the trip of his life.

He’d cleaned up all the loose ends of his life and was in the process of doing what was most important to him with the time he had left.

But now he has to go back to the messiness of living daily life.  And now he’s no longer special.  And this mistake has cost him money.

So the doctor is getting sued.  Not for the money.  But for this:

“For the first time in my life, I was living in the present.  And you took that away.”

We seem to have a hard time living in the present, living today to its fullest without really worrying about tomorrow or re-living yesterday.  Human nature, maybe.  I’m convinced that some people must miss living their lives completely because they’re so focused on the future or the past.

Sometimes it takes a life-shaking event like a cancer diagnosis to help people focus on the present.  One of the most common phrases I hear from cancer patients and their families is, “We’re just taking it a day at a time.”  That’s another way of saying that they’re living in the present.

So as we prepare to head into the new year, here are a couple of questions to ponder (and comment on if you like):

• How “present-focused” is your life right now?
• How do you feel when you’re living in the present vs. living in the past or future?
• What if anything needs to change to help you live more in the present?

Good News

Good news is precious.

We, like the shepherds long ago, know that, because we have all been the receivers of bad news.

Someone we love has died.  We or someone we love dearly has cancer, ALS, Alzheimer’s, or some other dreaded disease.  A spouse says they don’t want to be married any more.  Our job is gone. Or a tornado or hurricane has destroyed our home and memories.

Here’s what the angel said when he came to visit the shepherds:

“I bring you good news of great joy which will be for all the people;  for today in the city of David there has been born for you a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.” (Luke 2: 10-11)

What is this “good news of great joy?”

“For God had such love for the world that he gave his only Son, so that whoever has faith in him may not come to destruction but have eternal life.” (John 3:16)

We’ve experienced enough of this life to understand why the hope of an eternal life free from the injustice, loss, and pain of this earthly life is precious.

And that’s why we celebrate the coming of Jesus.  His coming brought with it the hope that’s so precious to us, that keeps us going through the unimaginable.

Merry Christmas, folks.

I forget the rawness of emotion the loss of a loved one produces in others.

It’s not intentional.  And it’s not that I’m not sensitive to it.

It’s because I don’t get to see it frequently.  People are pretty good at covering it up.  Folks avoid showing the raw emotion that they feel, both to protect themselves and those they’re with.

But there are some situations where people let down their guard and you get to see the pure, raw grief that they are experiencing.  Seeing this rawness is difficult for us.  It’s almost shocking, because we had let ourselves believe that they must be handling it so much “better.”  Instead, we see the deep pain, the raw emotion of loss.

I saw it Sunday during our service of remembrance as we took turns saying the names of those we have lost.  Tears were being shed by those saying the names.  And tears were being shed by others of us as we saw their pain.  I’ve seen the same thing in grief support groups.  Pure, raw pain.

Those are some of the few situations where people feel comfortable in letting down their guard and showing how much they are really hurting.

So I forget the rawness, because these situations don’t come around often.  And I forget the rawness because my short term memory wants to ease the pain I feel at seeing others’ pain.

But, it allows me to be freshly aware the next time I see it.  And that’s good.

Dad in the Kitchen

I’m still learning lessons from my dad.

Now you might think that since I’m 63 and Dad’s 84 that my learning from him might be over.

Or you might think that since our relationship has moved into me being a sometimes caregiver/advisor for him that maybe our roles had been reversed.

It is true that he doesn’t provide me intentional instruction or advice as he once did.

And it is also true that the nature of our relationship has changed over the last four years from parent-child to adult-adult, more like equals navigating life together.

But never-the-less, he’s still teaching me, and I still have lot’s to learn.

This morning as I sat down by him at church, he told me that he had made a New Year’s Resolution.  “I’m going to attend Bible Class and Wednesday night services as well as the Sunday morning service.”  When I asked him to tell me more later, he said that he realized he needed to be more involved.

The lesson — well maybe more of a reminder well-timed — is simple.  Evaluate where you are in life, see if a change is desirable, get on about doing it.

So, where are you in life?  Is there a change or two you’d like to make?  Feel free to write about it in the comments.  You might join Dad in being my teacher.