Lately certain verses are resonating with me.
"Blessed [happy] are the poor in spirit [the humble], for theirs is the kingdom of heaven" (Matthew 5:3)
“Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal" (Matthew 6:19)
"But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you."(Matthew 6:33)
These verses speak to me because sometimes I get caught up in thinking about how I look, the clothes I wear, my hair style, make-up, the stuff I own. I have been influenced by the media that tells me that I should try to "look seven years younger" or that I need to own a certain pair of shoes, dress in fashionable clothes and look a certain way (Good Housekeeping). The truth is that I can only take this kind of thinking for so long before I break down. Experience has taught me that this is not the way to happiness or a sense of fulfillment but that this leads to feelings of futility. With this world's "water" I need to keep returning to the well time after time, Jesus however promises that "whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” (John 4:14)
Jesus knows the futility of setting my hopes and dreams on what our culture says is desirable, material goods, intellectual advancement, beauty or critical acclaim. Using these devices to fix what is wrong doesn't work because our satisfaction erodes with time and we must seek more. If I build a house out of sand adding more sand as it erodes will not fix the problem, I need to start over again using a completely different material. (Matthew 7:24-27)
“Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock. And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not do them will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell, and great was the fall of it."
Once in a while I forget Jesus words and I begin to build a little sand castle for myself and then Jesus reminds me of his words.
"Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness"
The following is an old hymn. We sometimes think that hymns are out of style but I have found that they hold wisdom that is often lacking in our culture and times. I know that I have much to learn from these oracles of God.
A Hymn of Grace
THE SOLID ROCK
Keith W. Ward
My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus’ blood and righteousness;
I dare not trust the sweetest frame,
But wholly lean on Jesus’ name.
When darkness veils His lovely face,
I rest on His unchanging grace;
In every high and stormy gale,
My anchor holds within the veil.
His oath, His covenant, His blood
Support me in the whelming flood;
When all around my soul gives way,
He then is all my hope and stay.
When He shall come with trumpet sound,
Oh, may I then in Him be found;
Dressed in His righteousness alone,
Faultless to stand before the throne.
Refrain:
On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;
All other ground is sinking sand,
All other ground is sinking sand.
Wednesday, 19 September 2012
Monday, 30 July 2012
Daylight
Last month I wrote about my brother Paul who committed suicide.
Sometimes when we open up our hearts to others we expose dim, dusty corners. It's like opening the curtains on a sunny morning. What had been gray and indistinct becomes clear, you can suddenly see detail.
After I wrote that post, one memory kept coming back to me. It was the last conversation I had with my brother. The kids and I were in Owen Sound visiting my parents. At the time we had three children, a seven month old, a two year old and a nine year old. We'd spent part of the day with Paul. The rest of the day was spent keeping up with the children. During the afternoon and evening Paul called numerous times to speak with my mother. She was a patient, kind and understanding woman, her heart went out to anyone who needed help. She was a good listener, which is why Paul called her so often. Sometimes though, it's the compassionate, kind people who wear themselves out. That evening my mother was exhausted. When my brother called for the umpteenth time that day, I picked up the phone, he wanted to speak to my mother again. I told mom who it was and her face fell, she was wiped out, drained. I felt caught, my brother needed to talk, my mother was worn out. I thought maybe he would talk to me. I told him that Mom was worn out and needed a rest, too tired to come to the phone. Paul exploded! He screamed in my ear. At that moment I knew that any conversation was not possible so I said, "Paul I love you but I have to hang up now." He yelled again and I hung up. It was the last time I spoke to him, he died less than a week later.
Remembering this makes me deeply sad. I have never really thought about that last conversation. I didn't wanted to look at that memory, I kept it in a corner, half hidden. I was aware of it but I ignored it. I didn't want to look at it because it hurt too much and I had those awful niggling feelings of guilt.
Since I wrote the post that memory has been exposed to the fresh air and light of Jesus love. I have cried, mourned. I wish that my last conversation with my brother had been pleasant, but it wasn't. I have talked with Jesus about it and he is helping me to see the memory more clearly. My brother had attempted suicide before, more than once. He was a troubled young man and I was unable to help him, it was beyond me, beyond my mother, father or any of my other brothers. We did what we could and it wasn't enough. We are only human.
Paul gave his heart to Jesus, he went through the waters of baptism, but still suffered in a way that few understand. He is with the Lord in a place where there is no sorrow or suffering. The Lord gave me this portion of scripture long ago about my brother, "A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out." God's grace is greater than any other; he is full of compassion and mercy.
Sometimes when we open up our hearts to others we expose dim, dusty corners. It's like opening the curtains on a sunny morning. What had been gray and indistinct becomes clear, you can suddenly see detail.
After I wrote that post, one memory kept coming back to me. It was the last conversation I had with my brother. The kids and I were in Owen Sound visiting my parents. At the time we had three children, a seven month old, a two year old and a nine year old. We'd spent part of the day with Paul. The rest of the day was spent keeping up with the children. During the afternoon and evening Paul called numerous times to speak with my mother. She was a patient, kind and understanding woman, her heart went out to anyone who needed help. She was a good listener, which is why Paul called her so often. Sometimes though, it's the compassionate, kind people who wear themselves out. That evening my mother was exhausted. When my brother called for the umpteenth time that day, I picked up the phone, he wanted to speak to my mother again. I told mom who it was and her face fell, she was wiped out, drained. I felt caught, my brother needed to talk, my mother was worn out. I thought maybe he would talk to me. I told him that Mom was worn out and needed a rest, too tired to come to the phone. Paul exploded! He screamed in my ear. At that moment I knew that any conversation was not possible so I said, "Paul I love you but I have to hang up now." He yelled again and I hung up. It was the last time I spoke to him, he died less than a week later.
Remembering this makes me deeply sad. I have never really thought about that last conversation. I didn't wanted to look at that memory, I kept it in a corner, half hidden. I was aware of it but I ignored it. I didn't want to look at it because it hurt too much and I had those awful niggling feelings of guilt.
Since I wrote the post that memory has been exposed to the fresh air and light of Jesus love. I have cried, mourned. I wish that my last conversation with my brother had been pleasant, but it wasn't. I have talked with Jesus about it and he is helping me to see the memory more clearly. My brother had attempted suicide before, more than once. He was a troubled young man and I was unable to help him, it was beyond me, beyond my mother, father or any of my other brothers. We did what we could and it wasn't enough. We are only human.
Paul gave his heart to Jesus, he went through the waters of baptism, but still suffered in a way that few understand. He is with the Lord in a place where there is no sorrow or suffering. The Lord gave me this portion of scripture long ago about my brother, "A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out." God's grace is greater than any other; he is full of compassion and mercy.
Wonderful the matchless grace of Jesus,
Deeper than the mighty rolling sea;
Wonderful grace, all sufficient for me, for even me.
Broader than the scope of my transgressions,
Greater far than all my sin and shame,
O magnify the precious Name of Jesus.
Praise His Name!
Deeper than the mighty rolling sea;
Wonderful grace, all sufficient for me, for even me.
Broader than the scope of my transgressions,
Greater far than all my sin and shame,
O magnify the precious Name of Jesus.
Praise His Name!
Sunday, 29 July 2012
Runaway!
When I was young, I ran away from God.
At the age of twenty, I was a new mother, living with a man who was still married to someone else. We lived in Alberta. When the economy turned bad I returned to my parents' house while the man I was living with looked for work. At home, I encountered Jesus and came face to face with my own heart. He spoke to me of his love and goodness, of the sacrifice that he had made for me. I saw my heart in light of his goodness, purity and faithfulness. I saw my unworthiness. I had been living a half-life, solely devoted to myself and pursuit of happiness. I understood that he was offering me more than happiness or pleasure. In him, I would find a well of living water, fresh, clear and satisfying. As the months wore on he spoke to me and said "don't go back to Alberta, trust me, I will be all you need, I will fill all the gaps." I came very close to giving in, I even called the man I loved and told him I would not be returning. Then sanity returned. I had given over a year of my life to this man, had a child with him. I faltered in my determination to stay in Ontario. I called him back in tears and said, "Forget what I just told you, I'm coming back".
Once I had made the decision to return to Alberta, I closed my ears to Jesus voice, ignored the scratchy feeling in my heart that told me I was making a mistake. I ran away from God and into another's arms where I had no business being. I thought I could go back to life as usual but I had no peace. I could not turn off the voice of God no matter how hard I tried. I was lonely during the day and terrified at night. When my partner was away from home over night I could not bring myself to turn out the light, I would lie curled in a ball under my covers until I fell asleep. Everywhere I looked, I encountered the Lord's message, on billboards, in songs, at the library. Every time I turned around he was there and yet I was far from him. "Day and night [his] hand was heavy upon me; my strength was sapped." (Psalm 32:4) Finally, one day I could stand it no longer I got down on my knees and cried, "Oh God, forgive me! I can't ignore you anymore and I don't want to live without you! I don't care what I have to do; I want to have you in my life." At that moment I knew, he was asking me to leave the man I loved, the one I had a child with. I tried to get out of it, I asked the man if we could get married, but he said no. When he said no my heart sank and I said, "Well then I think I have to leave." There was no pleading, no argument, just "yes, I guess you do."
It was not easy; I cried for 7 days off and on, I could not seem to stop the tears. In the end, I got on a plane and returned to Ontario. As I walked away from the man, I loved, a weight fell from me, my sorrow disappeared and I was free. I never turned back.
When I left Alberta I didn't know if I would be single for the rest of my life. I could not see mysef ever loving another man. After a few years I began to long for a partner. My focus changed from living for the Lord to living for the day when I'd be married. My peace was disturbed, I became dissatisfied, lonely. But God is good and he turned my eyes back on him and my peace returned.
One day the Lord brought a good man into my life, I fell in love and got married. Pete and I have shared 25 years together. God has been faithful, he has helped us change and grow together as we raised our children and made our way through life. It was the Lord's plan for me to have someone special, I just had to wait for his timing and his man.
The Lord has never let us down. At our wedding we sang the hymn, "Great is thy faithfulness" and I have discovered the truth of that. I am overwhelmed daily at his love and goodness. I am blessed daily by his grace. He has promised "I am with you always, even to the end of the age". He is faithful.
I have also discoverd that the Lord is that "river of living water" and I need never be thirsty.
There is a river that flows from deep
within.
There is a fountain that frees the soul from sin.
Come to these waters, there is a vast supply.
There is a river that never shall run dry. (Sapp)
Praise the Lord, my soul;
all my inmost being, praise his holy name.
2 Praise the Lord, my soul,
and forget not all his benefits—
3 who forgives all your sins
and heals all your diseases,
4 who redeems your life from the pit
and crowns you with love and compassion,
5 who satisfies your desires with good things
so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s. Psalm 103:1-5
There is a fountain that frees the soul from sin.
Come to these waters, there is a vast supply.
There is a river that never shall run dry. (Sapp)
Praise the Lord, my soul;
all my inmost being, praise his holy name.
2 Praise the Lord, my soul,
and forget not all his benefits—
3 who forgives all your sins
and heals all your diseases,
4 who redeems your life from the pit
and crowns you with love and compassion,
5 who satisfies your desires with good things
so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s. Psalm 103:1-5
Friday, 29 June 2012
Eclipse
My youngest brother was spunky, boisterous and fearless as a child. He had charisma and his smile lit up his whole face. Paul never shied away from anything. He learned to ride a bike at an early age and I remember him joyously launching himself and his bike off a jump that older kids wouldn't attempt.
Paul was smart, athletic, out going and popular with other kids. He sounds like every parents dream but he wasn't the easiest child to raise. From a young age he displayed an explosive temper. When he was four he lifted one end of our heavy dining room table and slammed it down breaking off one of its feet, in a rage of temper.
At sixteen almost everything changed, he became withdrawn and troubled. Paul started hearing voices and had uncontrollable racing thoughts. The world that had been spread before him suddenly closed in on him. He wasn't able to go to school, he lost friends. My mother and I sat up with him at night, he was afraid to go to sleep because of nightmares. He and I played countless games of cribbage and concentration. His room became his prison but it was worse than that, he was stuck inside a shifting erratic and uncertain world where anything could happen, it was a living nightmare. He couldn't get away because his monsters traveled with him everywhere. At sixteen he was admitted for the first time to a psychiatric ward, it was an unnerving experience for him. For the next ten years my brother was admitted time after time to psychiatric wards and hospitals. The doctors tried to find the right combination of drugs to help him but they never did.
When Paul was sixteen we were introduced to the mental illness called schizophrenia. It was a terrifying word to us we didn't understand what it meant. We slowly became educated. We learned that schizophrenics are not "crazy people" or "lunatics." Schizophrenics suffer from a chemical imbalance in the brain. The following quote was taken from a web site called camh.ca: Some people recover fully, return to their jobs or finish school; others find they cannot cope with their jobs or studies after an active phase of schizophrenia. Unfortunately my brother was one of the "others" he tried to hold down jobs and attend school but found that he could not cope.
At twenty-five, after years of being admitted, released and admitted to hospitals, after being prescribed one drug after another my brother gave up. He said that he'd been searching for years for the diamond in an endless pile of manure and had come to the conclusion that the diamond just didn't exist.
The phone call came while we were at church. In those days we went to a church out in the middle of a corn field and the church phone was located at the pastorate next door. At some point after church, I realized that my husband was missing. Someone informed me that he was next door answering a phone call. I don't why, but my heart sank and I decided to go to him. I walked toward him as he came across the field from the pastorate. As I got closer his head went down and I said "its Paul isn't it?" He answered "yes, your brother called, Paul is gone, he's committed suicide." The air was sucked out of me and I collapsed in a heap on the grass. Pete picked me up and carried me to the house. Everything happened quickly. People offered to look after our kids for us and then we were at home packing. I tried to pack to go to my parent's place but my mind was frozen, stuck in park. The day after getting to Owen Sound we had to make a trip to the mall because I'd packed so little. That time was like living through a long lasting total eclipse of the sun. Everything I thought I knew was wiped away and all I had left was one small point of light deep within myself. That light was God saying "I'm still here Ruth." The funeral was bleak, our minds filled with "what ifs?" My brother John sobbed all the way through it and I held onto myself tightly because I knew that if I let go I wouldn't be able to stop the torrent.
Suicide is different from other deaths. My brother David died at forty-three and my mom died four years ago and I was sad, I cried and grieved but I wasn't completely overwhelmed. When Paul died the sun was blotted out and I walked around in a haze for months. To this day I can't talk about his death without tears. I've gotten over most of the guilt, the "what if I'd" questions but there is still that niggling feeling, that maybe?
I really don't have any answers about why things turned out the way they did. I always thought that if something like this happened to me I'd lose my faith but I didn't. God by his grace sustained me through it all.
Paul was smart, athletic, out going and popular with other kids. He sounds like every parents dream but he wasn't the easiest child to raise. From a young age he displayed an explosive temper. When he was four he lifted one end of our heavy dining room table and slammed it down breaking off one of its feet, in a rage of temper.
At sixteen almost everything changed, he became withdrawn and troubled. Paul started hearing voices and had uncontrollable racing thoughts. The world that had been spread before him suddenly closed in on him. He wasn't able to go to school, he lost friends. My mother and I sat up with him at night, he was afraid to go to sleep because of nightmares. He and I played countless games of cribbage and concentration. His room became his prison but it was worse than that, he was stuck inside a shifting erratic and uncertain world where anything could happen, it was a living nightmare. He couldn't get away because his monsters traveled with him everywhere. At sixteen he was admitted for the first time to a psychiatric ward, it was an unnerving experience for him. For the next ten years my brother was admitted time after time to psychiatric wards and hospitals. The doctors tried to find the right combination of drugs to help him but they never did.
When Paul was sixteen we were introduced to the mental illness called schizophrenia. It was a terrifying word to us we didn't understand what it meant. We slowly became educated. We learned that schizophrenics are not "crazy people" or "lunatics." Schizophrenics suffer from a chemical imbalance in the brain. The following quote was taken from a web site called camh.ca: Some people recover fully, return to their jobs or finish school; others find they cannot cope with their jobs or studies after an active phase of schizophrenia. Unfortunately my brother was one of the "others" he tried to hold down jobs and attend school but found that he could not cope.
At twenty-five, after years of being admitted, released and admitted to hospitals, after being prescribed one drug after another my brother gave up. He said that he'd been searching for years for the diamond in an endless pile of manure and had come to the conclusion that the diamond just didn't exist.
The phone call came while we were at church. In those days we went to a church out in the middle of a corn field and the church phone was located at the pastorate next door. At some point after church, I realized that my husband was missing. Someone informed me that he was next door answering a phone call. I don't why, but my heart sank and I decided to go to him. I walked toward him as he came across the field from the pastorate. As I got closer his head went down and I said "its Paul isn't it?" He answered "yes, your brother called, Paul is gone, he's committed suicide." The air was sucked out of me and I collapsed in a heap on the grass. Pete picked me up and carried me to the house. Everything happened quickly. People offered to look after our kids for us and then we were at home packing. I tried to pack to go to my parent's place but my mind was frozen, stuck in park. The day after getting to Owen Sound we had to make a trip to the mall because I'd packed so little. That time was like living through a long lasting total eclipse of the sun. Everything I thought I knew was wiped away and all I had left was one small point of light deep within myself. That light was God saying "I'm still here Ruth." The funeral was bleak, our minds filled with "what ifs?" My brother John sobbed all the way through it and I held onto myself tightly because I knew that if I let go I wouldn't be able to stop the torrent.
Suicide is different from other deaths. My brother David died at forty-three and my mom died four years ago and I was sad, I cried and grieved but I wasn't completely overwhelmed. When Paul died the sun was blotted out and I walked around in a haze for months. To this day I can't talk about his death without tears. I've gotten over most of the guilt, the "what if I'd" questions but there is still that niggling feeling, that maybe?
I really don't have any answers about why things turned out the way they did. I always thought that if something like this happened to me I'd lose my faith but I didn't. God by his grace sustained me through it all.
Tuesday, 26 June 2012
Dawn
Good morning! The words that go through my mind the most in the mornings are:
Holy, holy, holy Lord God Almighty
Early in the morning my song shall rise to thee!
For me morning is the best part of the day. In the morning the day is brand new, the air seems fresher, the world cleaner so it is almost natural that I think of the creator. But I must confess that too often I see prayer and bible reading as a chore. Recently I had a little revelation, probably not a new one to most of you (it's not really new to me, I'm just a little thick sometimes). During one of my morning devotions it came to me like a flash, prayer is not a chore! It is an amazing blessing, a gift without rival. We get to commune with God, the creator of the universe, the all knowing one, the one whose love surpasses all others. Not only do we get to enter this place of intimacy but God wants us to. The Lord wants to have an intimate friendship with us, it is why he made us and prayer is the means by which we can spend uninterrupted time with him. If you are like me my most precious moments with loved ones are not when they are doing tasks for me or bringing me gifts but when we sit down together and spend time talking, listening and enjoying each others company. This is what prayer is meant to be a time for the Lord and his children to enjoy each other's company.
This morning I was reading Philippians 3:1-11 & this quote stood out for me:
"I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord." Phil 3:8a
Wednesday, 11 April 2012
David:Beloved
I awoke this morning thinking of my brother David. I do not know too much about my his early life because he was four years older than I was. I only know what my parents have told me. David was a very small baby, he weighed just over 4lbs when he was born and he spent some time in an incubator. His digestive system was too weak even for breast milk, he would projectile vomit what my mother fed him so the doctor prescribed a special formula and he grew slowly. He never crawled but rolled everywhere for the longest time. David walked later than most children but by 18 months, he was on his way. At five, David went to kindergarten like most children but it soon became evident that he was not like most children. He did not learn well and the teacher used the words mentally retarded to describe him. I never attended the same school as my brother, he was sent to schools with special classes.
Growing up with David I came to understand how cruel life could be to those deemed different. David was what the world calls peculiar. He had ticks, often used a voice he called the frog, whispered beneath his breath and bounced when he walked. Children started to make fun of him. They taunted him, imitated the way he walked and called him names. The other children gave him the nickname, Hoppy. David did not deal well with these things: what child does. He liked people and was gregarious. Being the target of malice must have been confusing and hurtful. He lashed out and ended up being shunted from school to school. It wasn't till we moved out of the city and he started school in Port Perry that he found a place at a school that worked for him. The teacher in charge of the special class was an unorthodox man and David loved him. After his graduation, there were few options for David. He enjoyed fixing TVs and radios so Dad looked into college courses but he'd never achieved more than grade 7 math. He began to drink, to get drunk. Some people thought it was funny to get him drunk and then watch him. At some point David joined AA and his battle with alcoholism started. In the end, it won. David died at the age of 43.
It was the Christmas season. My parents came down from Owen Sound to stay with us. Several days before Christmas, they went to his apartment to pick him up. There was no answer when they knocked on his door. They knocked harder, and still no answer. They noticed that the lights were on even though David was normally meticulous about turning them off when he went out. They feared that something was wrong. They called David's social worker and he told them that he had not shown up for his usual appointment. They also discovered that he had not made it to his AA meeting that week. My parents finally called the police and they let them into his apartment. They found my brother at the bottom of the basement steps; he was dead. He was drunk when he died.
David was a slow learner; he was peculiar, often rude and as an adult became an alcoholic but he was more than these things. He loved music, books and horror films, he had girlfriends through the years and he could fix just about anything electronic. I remember him running down the road pulling his toy truck behind him oblivious to everything around him, caught up in the moment. David received a tape recorder for Christmas one year, he recorded everything from toilets flushing to Christmas concerts and family conversations. He rarely walked anywhere, he ran. When he ran, he took no notice of the things around him. I believe he felt free at those times. He was a character; he could imitate a siren better than anyone I have ever met. He loved to use our video recorder. He told my husband he would rather be behind the camera than in front of it. He was not always easy to be around but I love and miss him.
David had faith; the chaplain at Whitby Psychiatric hospital told us that he rarely missed a Wednesday evening service.
One of the things on my mind this morning is his favourite hymn. At church, David would often request the hymn For Those Tears I Died. I have copied the lyrics of this hymn. I think you will understand his love for it when you read the words.
For those Tears I Died
You said You'd come and share all my sorrows,
You said You'd be there for all my tomorrows;
I came so close to sending You away,
But just like You promised You came there to stay;
I just had to pray!
And Jesus said, "Come to the water, stand by My side,
I know you are thirsty, you won't be denied;
I felt ev'ry teardrop when in darkness you cried,
And I strove to remind you that for those tears I died."
Your goodness so great I can't understand,
And, dear Lord, I know that all this was planned;
I know You're here now, and always will be,
Your love loosed my chains and in You I'm free;
But Jesus, why me?
And Jesus said, "Come to the water, stand by My side,
I know you are thirsty, you won't be denied;
I felt ev'ry teardrop when in darkness you cried,
And I strove to remind you that for those tears I died."
Jesus, I give You my heart and my soul,
I know that without God I'll never be whole;
Savior, You opened all the right doors,
And I thank You and praise You from earth's humble shores;
Take me, I'm Yours.
And Jesus said, "Come to the water, stand by My side,
I know you are thirsty, you won't be denied;
I felt ev'ry teardrop when in darkness you cried,
And I strove to remind you that for those tears I died."
(Marsha Stevens-Pino)
David's life has taught to try not to judge, we all struggle. Some carry burdens that we would be loathe to bear. Jesus does not judge, he shares in those burdens.
Growing up with David I came to understand how cruel life could be to those deemed different. David was what the world calls peculiar. He had ticks, often used a voice he called the frog, whispered beneath his breath and bounced when he walked. Children started to make fun of him. They taunted him, imitated the way he walked and called him names. The other children gave him the nickname, Hoppy. David did not deal well with these things: what child does. He liked people and was gregarious. Being the target of malice must have been confusing and hurtful. He lashed out and ended up being shunted from school to school. It wasn't till we moved out of the city and he started school in Port Perry that he found a place at a school that worked for him. The teacher in charge of the special class was an unorthodox man and David loved him. After his graduation, there were few options for David. He enjoyed fixing TVs and radios so Dad looked into college courses but he'd never achieved more than grade 7 math. He began to drink, to get drunk. Some people thought it was funny to get him drunk and then watch him. At some point David joined AA and his battle with alcoholism started. In the end, it won. David died at the age of 43.
It was the Christmas season. My parents came down from Owen Sound to stay with us. Several days before Christmas, they went to his apartment to pick him up. There was no answer when they knocked on his door. They knocked harder, and still no answer. They noticed that the lights were on even though David was normally meticulous about turning them off when he went out. They feared that something was wrong. They called David's social worker and he told them that he had not shown up for his usual appointment. They also discovered that he had not made it to his AA meeting that week. My parents finally called the police and they let them into his apartment. They found my brother at the bottom of the basement steps; he was dead. He was drunk when he died.
David was a slow learner; he was peculiar, often rude and as an adult became an alcoholic but he was more than these things. He loved music, books and horror films, he had girlfriends through the years and he could fix just about anything electronic. I remember him running down the road pulling his toy truck behind him oblivious to everything around him, caught up in the moment. David received a tape recorder for Christmas one year, he recorded everything from toilets flushing to Christmas concerts and family conversations. He rarely walked anywhere, he ran. When he ran, he took no notice of the things around him. I believe he felt free at those times. He was a character; he could imitate a siren better than anyone I have ever met. He loved to use our video recorder. He told my husband he would rather be behind the camera than in front of it. He was not always easy to be around but I love and miss him.
David had faith; the chaplain at Whitby Psychiatric hospital told us that he rarely missed a Wednesday evening service.
One of the things on my mind this morning is his favourite hymn. At church, David would often request the hymn For Those Tears I Died. I have copied the lyrics of this hymn. I think you will understand his love for it when you read the words.
For those Tears I Died
You said You'd come and share all my sorrows,
You said You'd be there for all my tomorrows;
I came so close to sending You away,
But just like You promised You came there to stay;
I just had to pray!
And Jesus said, "Come to the water, stand by My side,
I know you are thirsty, you won't be denied;
I felt ev'ry teardrop when in darkness you cried,
And I strove to remind you that for those tears I died."
Your goodness so great I can't understand,
And, dear Lord, I know that all this was planned;
I know You're here now, and always will be,
Your love loosed my chains and in You I'm free;
But Jesus, why me?
And Jesus said, "Come to the water, stand by My side,
I know you are thirsty, you won't be denied;
I felt ev'ry teardrop when in darkness you cried,
And I strove to remind you that for those tears I died."
Jesus, I give You my heart and my soul,
I know that without God I'll never be whole;
Savior, You opened all the right doors,
And I thank You and praise You from earth's humble shores;
Take me, I'm Yours.
And Jesus said, "Come to the water, stand by My side,
I know you are thirsty, you won't be denied;
I felt ev'ry teardrop when in darkness you cried,
And I strove to remind you that for those tears I died."
(Marsha Stevens-Pino)
David's life has taught to try not to judge, we all struggle. Some carry burdens that we would be loathe to bear. Jesus does not judge, he shares in those burdens.
Friday, 6 April 2012
Good Friday
It's Good Friday. I want to tell you about Jesus' crucifixion, to convey the love behind it but I cannot even come close. This is what I can tell you that Love willingly walked into his enemies' arms, he became a spectacle, Love allowed men to beat him, taunt him and drive spikes through his hands, Love cried out "My God, my God why have you forsaken me?" then "gave up his spirit." (Matt 27:45& 50). He knows the anguish of betrayal; he experienced abandonment and pain. He died in my place. This is what I remember on Good Friday.
Jesus did not stay dead. He rose. Betrayal, pain, abandonment did not defeat him. He did not cheat death; he bashed it down finally. We do not need to fear it anymore. We have Jesus who went ahead of us and destroyed it.
And can it be that I should gain
An interest in the Savior’s blood?
Died He for me, who caused His pain—
For me, who Him to death pursued?
Amazing love! How can it be,
That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me?
Amazing love! How can it be,
That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me?
’Tis mystery all: th’Immortal dies:
Who can explore His strange design?
In vain the firstborn seraph tries
To sound the depths of love divine.
’Tis mercy all! Let earth adore,
Let angel minds inquire no more.
’Tis mercy all! Let earth adore;
Let angel minds inquire no more.
He left His Father’s throne above
So free, so infinite His grace—
Emptied Himself of all but love,
And bled for Adam’s helpless race:
’Tis mercy all, immense and free,
For O my God, it found out me!
’Tis mercy all, immense and free,
For O my God, it found out me!
Long my imprisoned spirit lay,
Fast bound in sin and nature’s night;
Thine eye diffused a quickening ray—
I woke, the dungeon flamed with light;
My chains fell off, my heart was free,
I rose, went forth, and followed Thee.
My chains fell off, my heart was free,
I rose, went forth, and followed Thee.
Still the small inward voice I hear,
That whispers all my sins forgiven;
Still the atoning blood is near,
I feel the life His wounds impart;
I feel the Savior in my heart.
I feel the life His wounds impart;
I feel the Savior in my heart.
No condemnation now I dread;
Jesus, and all in Him, is mine;
Alive in Him, my living Head,
And clothed in righteousness divine,
Bold I approach th’eternal throne,
And claim the crown, through Christ my own.
Bold I approach th’eternal throne,
And claim the crown, through Christ my own.
This is what I celebrate at Easter.
Jesus is alive today. He is that friend that sticks closer than a brother, my comforter, Lord and saviour. I have done nothing to earn his love; he gives it freely. This is what I live, breath and know everyday.
And can it be that I should gain
An interest in the Savior’s blood?
Died He for me, who caused His pain—
For me, who Him to death pursued?
Amazing love! How can it be,
That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me?
Amazing love! How can it be,
That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me?
’Tis mystery all: th’Immortal dies:
Who can explore His strange design?
In vain the firstborn seraph tries
To sound the depths of love divine.
’Tis mercy all! Let earth adore,
Let angel minds inquire no more.
’Tis mercy all! Let earth adore;
Let angel minds inquire no more.
He left His Father’s throne above
So free, so infinite His grace—
Emptied Himself of all but love,
And bled for Adam’s helpless race:
’Tis mercy all, immense and free,
For O my God, it found out me!
’Tis mercy all, immense and free,
For O my God, it found out me!
Long my imprisoned spirit lay,
Fast bound in sin and nature’s night;
Thine eye diffused a quickening ray—
I woke, the dungeon flamed with light;
My chains fell off, my heart was free,
I rose, went forth, and followed Thee.
My chains fell off, my heart was free,
I rose, went forth, and followed Thee.
Still the small inward voice I hear,
That whispers all my sins forgiven;
Still the atoning blood is near,
I feel the life His wounds impart;
I feel the Savior in my heart.
I feel the life His wounds impart;
I feel the Savior in my heart.
No condemnation now I dread;
Jesus, and all in Him, is mine;
Alive in Him, my living Head,
And clothed in righteousness divine,
Bold I approach th’eternal throne,
And claim the crown, through Christ my own.
Bold I approach th’eternal throne,
And claim the crown, through Christ my own.
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