God, Abraham, and Isaac

I've been chewing on Genesis 22 for a few weeks.  It tells of God's command to Abraham to offer his son, Isaac, as a burnt offering to Him.  As the story goes, or at least from what we can tell from the text, Abraham obeys without question and proceeds to take Isaac up the mountain where he will sacrifice him to God.  He even has Isaac carry the wood!  When Isaac questions his father about where the lamb is for the burnt offering, Abraham tells him that "God will provide for himself the lamb for a burnt offering, my son." (v.8)  Abraham builds the altar, lays the wood down, and binds Isaac.  And just as he is about to go through with it, an angel of the Lord stops him and God provides a ram for Abraham to offer instead.

This has long been one of the most disturbing passages of scripture for me.  I've never been comfortable with it.  I think we're supposed to marvel at Abraham's faith.  And I think we're supposed to understand it as a foreshadowing of how God ultimately sacrifices his own son, Jesus, and actually goes through with it for our sake.  But I've been trying to imagine what was going on for Abraham.  And what is the big picture universal message for us that we need to hear and understand?

From previous chapters, we know that Abraham and his wife Sarah were unable to conceive a child.  But God promises to Abraham that he and Sarah will have a son who will be their heir.  And not only that, but that Abraham will be the father of a multitude of nations.  Abraham is 99 years old and Sarah is super post-menopausal when God does the impossible and Sarah gets pregnant.  So Isaac, the promised one who very clearly is a miraculous gift from God, is born when Abraham is 100!

That's the context.  Absolutely nuts!  But we don't get too much else between the moment of birth to the moment of this sacrifice story.  So I've tried to imagine what life is like for Abraham.  I imagine a father who loves his son with all his heart.  But who maybe is so afraid to lose him or not raise him well that he places crazy restrictions on him.  I imagine an overprotective father who is afraid of losing his precious gift of a son in a time of high infant mortality, and no modern medicine, while sojourning in unknown lands.  I imagine a father who freaks out if his son is climbing a dangerous looking tree, or standing too close to a ledge, or hanging around potentially bad influences.  I imagine a father who tries hard to make every little mistake that Isaac makes into a teachable moment.  And the more I thought of how Abraham may have viewed Isaac, the more I felt I could relate.  I'm like that with Lucas sometimes, especially after Nathan died.  Understandable.  I think I've gotten better.  I used to be worse.

So what are we supposed to take away from this crazy story?  Ultimately, I believe that this story is about the necessity for people who have a relationship with God to trust him radically.  No.  We need to trust him extremely.  And part of being able to do that is to understand in a really deep way that everything good in our lives is a gift from God.  And then to be able to sacrifice, or lay at the altar, even the people in our lives that we don't think we could live without because we trust him to provide the lamb for the sacrifice.  He's already done it!

In the early days after the accident, I was consumed with fear and worry about how Lucas would turn out.  I imagined my son having two holes in his heart that would never be filled and would leave him crippled for life.  I stressed over every meal I prepared for him, agonizing over my inadequacies in the kitchen.  I sat him behind me whenever we were in the car together so that if something tragic should happen, it'd be more likely that we'd either both survive or we'd die together.  To this day, he sits behind me 95% of the time, more out of habit than fear.  I'm a work in progress.  I trust Lucas in God's hands a little more with each passing season.  I frequently lay him at the altar before God (figuratively, of course!) and pray a prayer that declares my trust in God to provide everything Lucas needs and everything I need as a parent.  It's a prayer that exhorts my own heart to trust more.

One of the great challenges of faith is acknowledging that we are limited in our ability to control our lives.  Then after acknowledging our limitations, we have to relinquish that sense of control and trust in our sovereign God.  In this light, I think the role parents play in the lives of their children provides the most difficult context in which we are called to trust God radically.  Why?  Because it is the role in which a person is most likely to feel that they can have total control over someone else's life - even more than their own.  It is the role that carries the biggest responsibility for discipleship.  And it is the role that provides the greatest temptation and easiest access to trespass inappropriately in another soul's very being.  When things with your kid seem to be spinning out of your control, or they make some bad decisions, it is extremely easy for a parent to freak out, punish disproportionately, pass on their fears to their child, and ultimately distrust and dishonor God.  I think the challenge to radically trust God is especially hard for single parents like me who feel 100% of the weight of responsibility for their child's development and well-being.

Aside from my experience as a single parent, as a teacher I also see the effects of overbearing parents who try to exert too much control over their kids.  So many kids are stressed out of their minds and look so miserable.  So many kids push back hard (understandably in some cases) and rebel because they are being trespassed against so badly by their parents.  And I see the effects of the opposite, too; parents who are not involved enough.  So many kids who do not know their own value because their parents are too busy to care.  So many kids who try to find their value and affirmation from all the wrong places and who are obsessed with being cool.  Being a parent is such a difficult balancing act.  And what makes it even harder is that you have to continuously recalibrate where that balancing point is because your children are continuously growing and becoming more independent.  It is hard to trust God with your kids.  But it is so very important and life-changing, for you and your kids, if you do.

So back to the why question of this story.  I think it's the ultimate lesson of submitting to God, relinquishing control, seeing the special people God has placed in your life as gifts, and proclaiming radical/extreme trust in the God who actually went through with the sacrifice of his only son.  It doesn't make the story any less difficult to digest.  I still don't like it and there are aspects of it that nauseate me.  But I get why it's important.  And I hope and pray that God continues to help me with the special role he's given me as Lucas' dad.

Already, but Not Yet....but ALREADY!!!

A few weeks ago, I had the opportunity to hear Jerry Sittser give a talk on "Adversity as Spiritual Formation" at Biola University.  Some of you know that Dr. Sittser's book, A Grace Disguised, helped me work through my grief and pain more than any other.  In it, he shares of his own journey through tragic loss (in a drunk driving accident he lost three generations of family; his mother, his wife, and his daughter).  As I sat there listening to this hero and fellow sojourner, I was struck by how little he shared about how God's promise to "make all things new" helps him to move forward in faith.  Come to think of it, I don't think he talked about heaven at all.  For me, the promises of Revelation 21.1-5 have been ones that I've been so blessed by.  But for a while now, I've also been aware of an imbalance in my faith life.  For every Christian, there is this dual reality of the Already and the Not Yet.  In other words, Jesus' death and resurrection as well as the outpouring of the Holy Spirit gives the Christian many aspects of the faith life that we can experience right now.  But there are also some things that are promises that we will not see realized and for which we remain in a perpetual state of longing until that Great Day.  As I said, I've been aware of an imbalance in my life. I am inclined to lean too much towards the Not Yet and not enough in the Already.  This post is about three things that together has helped my paradigm shift to one that is more in balance.

The first is a brief conversation that I had with Dr. Sittser after his talk.  I approached him, thanked him for his insights, and shared briefly of the eerily similar tragedy that I suffered six years ago.  Then I mentioned to him that I was struck by how his entire talk centered on the present and how he didn't really talk about heaven or God's promises of the ultimate redemption to come.  And he said something that I didn't quite understand at the time, but have been chewing on since.  He said something like, "Mark, first of all, don't get me wrong.  I believe in God's promises and future glory and all of that.  But I don't look at heaven as some far away place that we have to keep pushing towards.  I look at it in the opposite way.  I look at heaven as something that is moving towards us."

The second, and in true chiastic form (the meat of the sandwich - though the bread of this sandwich is pretty darn good, too!) probably the most important thing that I've been chewing on is a part of the Lord's prayer (Matthew 6.9-13) that our Life Group (weekly bible study/fellowship time) studied a couple of weeks ago.  Verse 10 says, "Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven."  I was struck that in this brief little verse, heaven is characterized as the place in which God's will is always done.  That's what makes it heaven.  And I realized that we see glimpses of it all around us, if we have the eyes to see it.  God's will is done sometimes here on earth, and when it is we catch a glimpse of what heaven's going to be like.  This revelation has made me want to participate all the more in being Jesus' hands and feet to a world that is so dark and needs his love so badly.  I want to be a part of this!  Don't you?!

Almost immediately after the revelation from the Lord's prayer, I came across the story of a young woman named Sarah.  I cannot do justice to her story and if anybody who reads this wants to read about it as she tells it, let me know.  She tells it beautifully.  But in short, Sarah is a breast cancer survivor.  And from her own words, I read about her excruciating journey and how she lost almost everything important to her and moved 3,000 miles away from her comfort zone just to start over because she couldn't bear being in a place that constantly reminded her of all that she had lost.  But that's not the end of her story.  Two years after moving, on a chance encounter on a train, her life crossed paths with the lives of a refugee single mother and her five children.  And somehow God helped her to see how deeply her story and their stories are intertwined.  She was able to see a common thread of marginalization and suffering.  And after requesting and getting their contact information, Sarah chose to love them with Christ's committed hesed love.  Though they no longer live in the same state, she is still committed (4 years later?) to caring for them.  Again, I'm not doing her story justice, but I hope you can see how beautiful it is!

So Dr. Sittser starts this whole madness by telling me something that I didn't really understand.  The Word comes in and clarifies.  Then Sarah's testimony confirms that we can see the kingdom coming right now, even in the midst of loss and pain!

I've since had my blindness continue to be healed as I've seen other beautiful ways that the kingdom is coming.  I think of my friend, Marcos, who along with his wife Bridget just formally adopted three children who they were loving through foster care.  I think of God's kindness in answering my desperate prayers for my dad, who passed away in December.  I think of miraculous openings to share my journey with those who needed to hear it.  I think of how God's love is revealed in the life of my church and the ways that we love each other and try to reach those who are lost.  So many ways, big and small, that the kingdom is already here.  It's no doubt hard to see in a world that is so broken.  Forget about the world.  If you are at all self-aware it is hard to see in the midst of your own brokenness.  But it's there to see.  If you can't see it, maybe you can ask God to help you see.  It's quite a sight!

Grace

I spoke, albeit very, very briefly, about Grace in my talk.  Here's a little bit more about it, sung beautifully by U2.  Bono's words about Grace and karma that you see at the end of the video say even more.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Zk26KXSH3g

"She carries a pearl in perfect condition
What once was hurt
What once was friction
What left a mark
No longer stings
Because Grace makes beauty out of ugly things.
Grace finds beauty in everything.
Grace finds goodness in everything."

I'm looking forward to being that pearl in perfect condition.  I'm on my way...

Life: An Unexpected Journey

The following is the text of a talk that I gave on Thursday, January 16th at my school.  I am amazed and humbled to have had the opportunity to share a bit of my journey and hope that it will help at least one student or even one colleague in their own.  I saw the talk as an offering that I was giving to the Lord with Open Hands.

“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the

difference.”

Life: An Unexpected Journey

First, a word about the prayer that you see on the screen. This is part of something that is commonly known as the Serenity Prayer. It’s probably most often seen at Alcoholics Anonymous or Narcotics Anonymous meetings where I believe they recite it together at the beginning of each meeting. It’s a prayer that is an admission by those who pray it that there are certain things that they cannot change or control (their addiction), and that there are also things that they can (their choices). But as is the nature of prayer, it is an expression of hope and faith that there is a personal and loving God who will hear them, and not only hear them but help them! During this past summer I came upon this prayer. And though I am not addicted to alcohol or drugs, I felt intimately connected to it. I felt that I could relate to the truth that there are things that I could not control and things that I could, and that there is a loving God that I believe in who will help me in my daily journey through life. I printed and taped the Serenity Prayer up on my bedroom wall and pray through it every day.

Speaking in front of a crowd of this magnitude is not something that I am accustomed to doing. But I do feel that I have some insights on dealing with the unexpected journey that life can be that I hope you will find helpful today or perhaps someday down the road. As a teacher, it is always my passion to pass along what I know to others that their lives might be enriched. If there is even one of you here today that either takes comfort in what I share or is positively challenged by it, then I will feel that this risk to share about a significant part of my life will have been worth it.

On January 1st, 2008, as we were coming home from a family gathering, the minivan that I was driving along with my wife, Midi, and twin 4-year old sons Lucas and Nathan, was violently struck on the passenger side by a drunk driver speeding through a red light. Midi died almost instantly. And my sweet boy, Nathan, after being declared brain dead and suffering life-ending internal injuries, died in my arms in the wee hours of the following morning. The pain and suffering that I have endured since that awful day are indescribable. The injustice of it all is profound. The magnitude of loss is beyond measure.

There is so much I can share about my life as it relates to this tragedy. But what can I tell you in this short amount of time?

• ●  I could share with you about the pain of loneliness and isolation and struggling with the feeling that no one could possibly understand what I’ve been through or am going through.
  
• ●  I could share about how insecure and inadequate I sometimes feel as a single parent and how I overcome those times
  
• ●  I could share about how in the first two years of great instability I did damage to 7 different significant relationships in my life and how, thank God, they have all been restored.
  
• ●  I could lead you in a discussion about how people deal with their brokenness and insecurities (whether conscious of them or not) by a variety of overcompensation techniques. And I could share with you how I do that sometimes and how I overcome it when I catch myself doing it.
  
• ●  I could share about how I choose to forgive the man who killed them. And I could also tell you that forgiveness is hard and how sometimes you have to do it over and over. And then I could tell you about the power of forgiveness and how much greater it is than anger, resentment, and bitterness.
  ●  I could talk about how Grace is greater than Karma. That, as Aslan says in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, “there is a deeper magic.”

• ●  I could spend all day talking to you about how wonderful Midi was and how she touched so many lives because she had the gift of being able to see how every person was made in God’s image, no matter how messed up they seemed to be. I could share with you how I pursued her with steadfast love and eventually won her heart, though she was way out of my league!
  
• ●  I could tell you about how much joy it gave me to be the father of my twin boys, how smart, sweet, and intuitive Nathan was, and how much I miss him.
  
• ●  I can tell you about my amazing son, Lucas! I can tell you about how I and others marvel at who he is and who he is becoming. I can tell you how much joy it gives me to have him in my life and how much I love being his daddy.
  
• ●  Icouldtellyouabouthowlovingbrothersandsisterswalk alongside me, suffer with me, cry with me, pray for me, and patiently love me. And I can tell you about how important it is to have community who you can count on like I do.
  

• ●  I can tell you how dangerous an obsessive focus on yourself and your own problems is and how I believe that this kind of self-focus can lead to mental illness and profound darkness.
  
• ●  I can tell you how I also lost a daughter - the daughter that we were in the process of adopting.
  
• ●  I can share with you how I’ve come to peace with questions like, “How could a loving God allow this to happen?” or the general, “Why do bad things happen to ‘good’ people?”
  
• ●  I can share about the illusion of control that we all seem to have about life. Though we are in many ways the captain of our own ships, to think that we can control the water or the wind is laughable.
  
  So what do I want to leave you with?
  

People often marvel at how healthy I’ve been and wonder how it is possible for me to be so strong, courageous, and hopeful after what I have been through. Well, the answer to this goes back to March 14, 1992. That is the day that I decided to accept the gift of life offered to me by Jesus. That is the day that I became a Christian while seeking something that I could build the foundation of my life on. While I understand that the word “Christian” can be charged with some negative connotations for some of you and perhaps some prejudice on your part, for me becoming one was the ultimate turning point of my life. So the answer to how I have responded and in some ways even thrived since 2 of the 3 most precious people in my life were taken away from me goes back to that critical decision and the relationship with God that has grown since then. You see, my life is built on something that won’t change no matter what the circumstances. My roots are deep. And so I cannot be permanently shaken or knocked off course.

If we are honest, we should all be able to acknowledge that we all depend on things, or people, or institutions that can change, even if they don’t intend to or promise not to. Even the people who you love the most can change or your relationship with them could change. So many of you are children of divorced parents whose affection and commitment towards each other changed. Many of you have experienced your own heartache already in relationships that have fallen apart. Many of you have even lost people you loved and who you thought would be in your life much, much longer. But you don’t really have to look far or even to things so intense to know how your own heart changes. You yourself make promises to yourself that you sometimes cannot will yourself to keep! You’ve all

broken resolutions you’ve made to yourself. You’ve all given in to some temptation to do or think of something destructive to yourself or others. So I want to challenge you to build your own life on something solid that will not change (i.e. NOT yourself or others), regardless of the crazy twists and turns your life takes.

Another thing I would like to leave you with to reflect on is Gratitude. Gratitude is so powerful. I am so grateful for the years I shared with Midi and Nathan. I am incredibly blessed to have been married to such an amazing woman and to have been the father of such a precious son. It is easy to focus on the injustice of what happened. And make no mistake: It was horribly unjust. But I choose to focus on gratitude. The only way that you can be grateful for anything is if you do not believe that you deserve it and that it is a gift. A sense of entitlement is the absolute enemy of gratitude. Midi and Nathan were gifts to me from a loving and generous God. I didn’t deserve them. But I got to have them anyway. They touched my life more than words can express. And because I know that I didn’t do anything to deserve them I can be grateful to the God who I believe gave them to me, even as they are gone too soon.

Finally I want to share with you about living life with Open Hands. This is my posture towards God. And what the posture represents to me is two things: 1. With open hands I offer everything to him. I offer my pain, loneliness, fear, sadness, insecurities, hopes, desires, passions, dreams. 2. With open hands I open my heart fully trusting to continue to receive from a loving father peace, comfort, security, joy, strength to forgive, strength to move forward, strength to love. Living with Open Hands is in contrast to living with Grasping Hands or Clenched Fists where one tries to grab and fill and take what they think they need to survive out of a place of insecurity and pain. And unfortunately, it is the easier and more natural path that we all consciously or unconsciously take.

Do not misunderstand my journey. It has not been all “pie in the sky.” I regularly experience and acutely feel the pain of loss and all that comes with it. And it’s not only my pain that I feel. I feel the pain of others more than I ever did before I experienced my own. But I’ve learned how to give and receive with Open Hands. That is how I have managed to survive as I have. I, like each one of us, am a work in progress. It’s not like I’m permanently in a place where I’ve moved past everything. I regularly have to make the choice to
● forgive rather than be bitter
● hope rather than despair
● live with Open Hands rather than Grabby Hands/Clenched Fists.

While we cannot control everything around or even inside of us, we do have the power to make choices in the way we respond. So you can see why I put the Serenity Prayer up and why it means so much to me. I guess in some ways I need that daily reminder to trust and that daily admission that I need help and can’t do it on my own, but that God has my back!

Though I hope that none of you will ever experience tragedy, especially of the magnitude that I have, I sincerely hope that what I’ve shared with you today is a blessing to you all!

Thank you. 

Glorious Unfolding

This song, the whole album really, has really ministered to me lately.  Thanks Steven Curtis Chapman!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rolTdI7I_4M

SEE

In 2008, Steven Curtis Chapman's daughter, Maria, was killed in a tragic accident outside of their home. A friend recently shared a link for me to check out SCC's CD entitled "Beauty Will Rise," which he wrote after his terrible loss. Each song is an expression of his grief, aching, longing, and ultimately hope that I found to be very powerful and comforting. Over the past 4+ years I have found that as much as others who love me were willing to share my pain that there were limitations to what they could offer. I am at peace about that. And yet when I heard these songs, I was grateful to have some connection to someone who I felt could understand at least a part of it from his own personal experience, though our stories differ in many significant ways.

At times desperate, lonely, angry, disoriented, questioning, confused, and depressed, by God's grace and power I am no longer enslaved by these. Though I may still fall into these emotions from time to time, they have no lasting power over me as I am learning to trust and truly hope in God's promises - namely to be with me (Emmanuel) all of my days and the coming Kingdom of Heaven. Next month will mark 20 years since I accepted Jesus into my heart. It took almost 16 before I really longed for either of those promises. Now, I can't imagine living without faith in the only One who can make them. Hope makes a difference.

Here are a couple of links to SCC's songs that especially moved me and a link to his website.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-25KlfLJOFg
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZmNiTtbM6hM
http://stevencurtischapman.com/music/beauty-will-rise

God bless you,
Mark

PS Lucas is now 8. He's doing great!

Midi's Encouragement

I came across a card that Midi wrote to me back in January 2007 when we were struggling with a lot of chaos in our lives. As I have been struggling so badly this year, her words offered some encouragement to keep praying and asking my loving Father for help. Here is some of what she wrote after first quoting a poem/prayer by Amy Carmichael.


"Before the winds that blow do cease,
Teach me to dwell within Thy calm:
Before the pain has passed, in peace,
Give me, my God, to sing a psalm.
Let me not lose the chance to prove
The fullness of enabling love.
O love of God, do this for me:
Maintain a constant victory.

I came across this poem by Amy Carmichael today and it seemed like a good prayer for us for these times. I love you. I hope you are able to find peace in God today... peace that comes from something stronger than the shifting ways of this world and the flighty words of man. Be strong and remember who the enemy is... he is not after our money; he wants our souls. Put your faith and hope in our good Father today, my love."


Her faith encourages me in my darkest hour - even as I have not seen or touched her in almost two and a half years. Oh, how I miss her.

Walk On

Lately, I've been seeking solace in music and, I suppose, finding some measure of comfort (though not much) in knowing that others are familiar with suffering and longing and the fight to remain hopeful. This U2 song used to be one of my favorites. The music itself is ringing with optimism and encouragement. It's almost as if the music itself is saying to the mourning listener, "C'mon. I'll help you get up. Let's go!" But now after my life got flipped over, I listen to it and my heart responds by saying, "I can't. Not right now. Bono, you say that you know it aches and how my heart breaks. But you can't know. No one does. I am alone." Now, I have a hard time listening to this song, even though I still love it. It is too challenging. Maybe I can't walk right now. Maybe I need to be carried for a while.


"And love is not the easy thing
The only baggage that you can bring...
And love is not the easy thing...
The only baggage you can bring
Is all that you can't leave behind

And if the darkness is to keep us apart
And if the daylight feels like it's a long way off
And if your glass heart should crack
And for a second you turn back
Oh no, be strong

Walk on, walk on
What you got they can't steal it
No they can't even feel it
Walk on, walk on...
Stay safe tonight

You're packing a suitcase for a place none of us has been
A place that has to be believed to be seen
You could have flown away
A singing bird in an open cage
Who will only fly, only fly for freedom

Walk on, walk on
What you've got they can't deny it
Can't sell it, or buy it
Walk on, walk on
Stay safe tonight

And I know it aches
And your heart it breaks
And you can only take so much
Walk on, walk on

Home... hard to know what it is if you've never had one
Home... I can't say where it is but I know I'm going home
That's where the heart is

and I know it aches
How your heart it breaks
And you can only take so much
Walk on, walk on

Leave it behind
You got to leave it behind
All that you fashion
All that you make
All that you build
All that you break
All that you measure
All that you feel
All this you can leave behind
All that you reason
All that you sense
All that you speak
All you dress-up
All that you scheme..."


I can only take so much.

Psalm 88

O Lord, God of my salvation;
I cry out day and night before you.
Let my prayer come before you;
incline your ear to my cry!
For my soul is full of troubles,
and my life draws near to Sheol.
I am counted among those who go down to the pit;
I am a man who has no strength,
like one set loose among the dead,
like the slain that lie in the grave,
like those whom you remember no more,
for they are cut off from your hand.
You have put me in the depths of the pit,
in the regions dark and deep.
Your wrath lies heavy upon me,
and you overwhelm me with all your waves.
You have caused my companions to shun me;
you have made me a horror to them.
I am shut in so that I cannot escape;
my eye grows dim through sorrow.
Every day I call upon you, O Lord;
I spread out my hands to you.
Do you work wonders for the dead?
Do the departed rise up to praise you?
Is your steadfast love declared in the grave,
or your faithfulness in Abaddon?
Are your wonders known in the darkness,
or your righteousness in the land of forgetfulness?
But I, O Lord, cry to you;
in the morning my prayer comes before you.
O Lord, why do you cast my soul away?
Why do you hide your face from me?
Afflicted and close to death from my youth up,
I suffer your terrors; I am helpless.
Your wrath has swept over me;
your dreadful assaults destroy me.
They surround me like a flood all day long;
they close in on me together.
You have caused my beloved and my friend to shun me;
my companions have become darkness.


It has taken me over 2 years, but I think I may finally be where I need to be. The first 2 years, I tried so hard to make sense of why God could let Midi and Nathan die. I tried in some ways to fast forward to redemption and create a life that would reconcile me with the "why" question. I was knocked flat on my back when God revealed how much this proactive approach to redemption I was taking demonstrates my distrust in him. I didn't think God would do a damn thing so I took it upon myself to try to create a new life. Not that there was no genuine growth in my relationship with him and no genuine healing the first 2 years. But I didn't have the spiritual muscles to really wrestle with him. My understanding of him was of a passive God. It was all up to me to move forward and make the right choices and declarations. Now, I am pulling back - pulling back from this faulty paradigm. Now, I don't want to try to do a darn thing, except sit in my misery and wait for God to save me; to cry out to him; to question him; to not ignore the darkness.

As I read from a chapter entitled, "Waiting for the Morning During the Long Night of Weeping," written by Dustin Shramek for a collection of essays called Suffering and the Sovereignty of God, I compiled some quotes that resonated with me.

"...let us not so quickly go from the affliction to the deliverance and thus minimize the pain in between. God's promise of deliverance does not mean that he will immediately deliver us. For many, deliverance only comes with death."

"'You have put me in the depths of the pit, in the regions dark and deep' (Ps 88.6). There are times when we feel so alone and cut off from everyone, even God, that we seem to be in the depths of the pit. No one else can possibly understand our pain, and there is no glimmer of hope. We can't see even a shred of light - surely the pit must be hundreds of miles deep. The darkness is so deep it feels heavy all around as though the darkness itself could be measured by a scale."

"Yet even in the midst of such great pain, he was not negligent in prayer. 'Every day I call upon you, O Lord; I spread out my hands to you' (Ps 88.9). Every day he spread out his hands and called upon God because he expected God to answer. But he didn't receive an answer. His hands remained empty day after day. This was when the pain was at its deepest. Many of us can endure the worst kinds of suffering if God himself is filling our hands (and hearts) with comfort. But when we cry out for comfort and receive nothing, we are undone. Surely the Sovereign One who has ultimately brought about this suffering could at least comfort me in the midst of it, couldn't he? When this doesn't happen the suffering is magnified beyond our imaginings."

"Of course we know intellectually that God does not forget to be gracious and that he will indeed by compassionate. We know that he hasn't rejected us and that his steadfast love is forever. But there are times when our pain is so deep that truths in our mind just can't seem to penetrate the darkness that surrounds our hearts."

"This text (Psalm 88) is in the Bible so that when suffering and pain come and we are between the affliction and the triumph in the midst of the questions, pain, and clouds of doubt, we may see that what we are feeling is normal. It has all been felt before, and all the questions have been asked before. We are not the first. We are not alone. And we are not in danger of losing our faith (at least not yet)."

"Why is the depth of Christ's pain significant for us? Because 'we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin' (Heb 4.15). In the midst of our pain we may feel alone and believe that no one has hurt as badly as we hurt. But it isn't true. Jesus Christ has felt such pain; indeed, he has felt pain that would have destroyed us. He is able to sympathize. 'Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need' (Heb 4.16)."

"Could we abandon the truth and turn to some other religion? There is no hope for us there, for then we would have to save ourselves. Could we become atheists? There is no hope for us there, for then life would be futile. Could we turn to materialism? There is no hope for us there, for material things can't bring back our son, nor can they keep us from suffering in the future. There is no hope anywhere else because God alone is God and he alone is holy. So in our suffering we cling to God in his holiness. And quite honestly, there are times when we cling to him simply because we see that there isn't anything else to hold on to. But I think this is okay. God wants us to see that there isn't anything else to cling to."


I read this chapter as Lucas and I were flying back home after a week at Walt Disney World. It was such a bittersweet time. For Lucas, it was pure fun and hopefully something he remembers with fondness throughout his life. Lucas can experience sweet without the bitter. But for me it was wonderful and painful at the same time. Before Midi died, we talked about taking our precious boys to Disney World some day. So experiencing the beauty of it without her and without Nathan was unimaginably painful. We had many such dreams, including some day (maybe a 10th anniversary trip?) going to Europe together. Now, I see a movie about the beauty of France or I think about a trip to Germany to visit relatives and I cannot imagine those experiences without her. I am saddened as I realize yet again that everything good that I experience, like Disney World or today's Lakers playoff game, will always be bittersweet. Will it always be this way? Will anything good simply be just sweet without the bitter?

Spurgeon II

"It may be of great service to us, before we fall asleep, to remember this mournful fact, for it may lead us to hold lightly to earthly things. There is nothing very pleasant in the recollection that we are not above the arrows of adversity, but it may humble us and prevent us from boasting like the psalmist that our mountain stands firm, that we shall never be moved. It may prevent us from making our roots too deep in this soil from which we are so soon to be transplanted into the heavenly garden. Let us keep in mind the frail tenure upon which we hold our temporal mercies. If we remember that all the trees of earth are marked for the woodman's axe, we will not be so ready to build our nests in them. We should love, but we should love with the love that expects death, and that reckons upon separations. Our dear relations are simply loaned to us, and the hour when we must return them to the lender's hand may be sooner than we think. (I hate that this is true, but how can I deny it?) This is also true of our worldly goods. Do not riches take to themselves wings and fly away? Our health is equally precarious. Frail flowers of the field, we must not reckon upon blooming forever. There is a time appointed for weakness and sickness, when we will have to glorify God by suffering and not by earnest activity. (I've tried to lessen my suffering and glorify God by earnest activity. It ultimately doesn't work.) There is no single point in which we can hope to escape from the sharp arrows of affliction; out of our few days there is not one secure from sorrow. Man's life is a cask full of bitter wine; he who looks for joy in it would be better looking for honey in a salty ocean. Beloved reader, do not set your affections upon things of earth, but seek those things that are above, for here the moth devours, and the thief steals, but there all joys are perpetual and eternal. The path of trouble is the way home. Lord, make this thought a pillow for many a weary head!"

-Charles Spurgeon, from Morning and Evening, specifically from a devotional reflection on Job 14.1

Spurgeon

When the world my heart is rending
With its heaviest storm of care,
My glad thoughts to heaven ascending,
Find a refuge from despair.
Faith's bright vision shall sustain me
Till life's pilgrimage is past;
Fears may vex and troubles pain me,
I shall reach my home at last.

--Charles Spurgeon

Today - Day By Day

Thank you to all of you who continue to think of me, Lucas, and our families and lift us up to the Lord in your prayers. It was 2 years ago today that we suffered the loss of our Midi and Nathan. Lucas is a happy 6 year old now who, thanks be to God, is thriving and doing well. There is no doubt that the Holy Spirit is at work in his life - not just in protecting his heart from despair and pain but also in building him up as a boy who is a living testimony of God's goodness. I thank God for him everyday for I know that I do not deserve him. I also am doing well. My faith in Him has never been stronger. God continues to provide for me in every way and is teaching me deep lessons. I am learning to abide in Him, which is, I think, the main challenge for all Christians throughout the course of our lives. Not that I didn't before, but I'm learning to abide in Him in the Present even as I look back to my Past and await my certain ultimate Future. Here is where God has me. And Here is where I am learning to be.

I'm reading and marinating in this passage tonight and I'd like to share it.

"Since we have the same spirit of faith according to what has been written, 'I believed, and so I spoke,' we also believe, and so we also speak, knowing that he who raised the Lord Jesus will raise us also with Jesus and bring us with you into his presence. For it is all for your sake, so that as grace extends to more and more people it may increase thanksgiving, to the glory of God.
So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.
For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For in this tent we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling, if indeed by putting it on we may not be found naked. For while we are still in this tent, we groan, being burdened - not that we would be unclothed, but that we would be further clothed, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. He who has prepared us for this very thing is God, who has given us the Spirit as a guarantee.
So we are always of good courage. We know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, for we walk by faith, not by sight. Yes, we are of good courage, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord. So whether we are at home or away, we make it our aim to please him. For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may receive what is due for what he has done in the body, whether good or evil."

2 Cor 4.13-5.10

What I am struck by in my times in the Word lately is how throughout the scriptures - Old Testament and New, Psalms and Proverbs, prophets and epistles - the focus is on the Present. For a believer in Jesus and one who has experienced communion with God through the Holy Spirit, the Past is meant to help us believe and live in the Present with confidence that the One who gave blessings and rescued us and taught deep truths in the Past is reliable, good, and true. The Future promises of eternal glory, resurrection, freedom from pain, tears and suffering, a new heaven and a new earth, being face to face with Jesus - these are also meant to help followers of Jesus live in faith and confidence in the Present, even if the Present is full of pain and sorrow. Neither the Past nor the Future are meant to distract us or keep us from living in direct communion with God through the Holy Spirit in the Present. He is Immanuel, God with us; not just in the Past or face to face in the Future, but God with us right now. So I exhort you fellow believers in Jesus out there (and myself, too) to grow in your walk with Immanuel.

Healing is from God

A friend of mine said something to me last night that was a good reminder of a profound truth. He said (paraphrasing), "God has been so gracious to you. You can do everything right and still be a mess. But God has been gracious to you." In the past 20+ months, I have tried to do everything right in my grieving process.

1. Choosing not to dwell on "What if" questions
2. Believing in Jesus' victory over death and claiming that victory in my heart for Midi and Nathan
3. Clinging to Jesus in prayer
4. Soaking in and meditating on words of truth and hope from the Holy Scriptures
5. Going naked before God with all of my grief and pain, trusting that He would meet me and comfort me
6. Allowing others into my grief, even if they cannot fathom the depths of my pain, so that they could cry with me and lift me up to the Lord
7. Not allowing self-pity to cause me to withdraw from others or minimize their own pain and struggles
8. Not medicating my pain with drugs, alcohol, television, food, or other mind-numbing distractions
9. Choosing to love others and believing that doing so allows me to experience God's love for me more deeply
10. Clinging to and declaring the hope of the resurrection; that in the New Earth there will be no more tears, death, mourning, crying, pain. And that God is making all things new (Rev 21.5-6)
11. Embracing my life as a stranger and exile seeking a homeland (Heb 11.13-14)
12. Comforting others as I have been comforted (2 Cor 1.3-5)
13. Being grateful to God for marriage with Midi and her imprint on my life. Being grateful to god for the unique and special gift that Nathan was to me.
14. Understanding that self-entitlement is the enemy of gratitude. You can't be grateful for something you think you deserve.
15. Trusting that God is good: yesterday, today, and every day
16. Not taking any shortcuts or settling for healing on the surface
17. Asking for and receiving counsel for major decisions
18. Repenting often when unbelief and self-pity creep into my heart

And yet, my friend reminded me that though I have chosen and believed rightly throughout my grieving process, it is God alone who has met me and brought me to the place of healing and faith that I am at now. It is true. It is very possible that despite doing all the right things, I could still be a heaping mess, unable to receive comfort or consolation from God. So the general truth for all of us is that we could do everything right (and we should try), but the blessings bestowed on us as a result are from God alone. And we should be grateful. Let he who has eyes to see, see. Let he who has ears to hear, hear.

Wesley

"If death my friend and me divide,
thou dost not, Lord, my sorrow chide,
or frown my tears to see;
restrained from passionate excess,
thou bidst me mourn in calm distress
for them that rest in thee.

I feel a strong immortal hope,
which bears my mournful spirit up
beneath its mountain load;
redeemed from death, and grief, and pain,
I soon shall find my friend again
within the arms of God.

Pass a few fleeting moments more
and death the blessing shall restore
which death has snatched away;
for me thou wilt the summons send,
and give me back my parted friend
in that eternal day."


-Charles Wesley

Lucas' Firsts

Yesterday, Lucas had his first piano lesson. He needs to work on tapping to the beat in common time, understanding long and short notes, understanding loud and soft notes, and posture.

Today, I finally got around to taking the training wheels off of his bike and took him to the park to teach him how to ride without them. He did great! He's probably been ready for like 2 years so I totally take the blame for not teaching him earlier. He needs to work on how to stop without falling and how to make smooth turns.

Lucas is Special

On the night of July 1st, I was just finishing up giving Lucas his nighttime bath. I took a step back and looked at him and was feeling thankful to God that he is such a happy boy, despite how much he has lost. So I told him, "Lucas, I'm so glad that you are such a happy boy." And he replied, "It's because God made me special!"

He is so right.

UP

There is a movie out right now by Disney/Pixar called "Up". Lucas and I have seen it twice. It is on one hand an entertaining, animal-talking, hilarious, thrill-ride that kids really seem to enjoy. It is on the other hand a very touching story about life, death, grieving, loneliness, relationships, and moving forward. The main character is an old man named Carl Frederickson. The first 10 minutes of the film beautifully captures key points of his life with his childhood friend and fellow adventurer Ellie, who becomes his wife and lifelong partner. Through a moving video collage of their life together we see Carl and Ellie get married, buy and renovate a house, get pregnant and anticipate the birth of their child, suffer a devastating miscarriage, picnic on a grassy hill, dream of going to South America to visit Paradise Falls, and repeatedly set aside their dream in order to deal with life's misfortunes. Finally, Ellie gets sick and dies, leaving Carl without his soulmate and with a dream unfulfilled. With his wife gone, Carl decides to attempt to keep his promise to Ellie by flying the home that they made together to South America. To make a long story short, Carl eventually succeeds in getting the house to Paradise Falls. Now backtrack a bit. When she was a child, Ellie started an adventure scrapbook about her plans to go someday to Paradise Falls. A few pages into the scrapbook she leaves a section blank for photos/memories of what she will do when she gets there. As far as Carl knew, the scrapbook was never completed and the pages in that part of it were left blank. Fast forward. So after Carl gets the house to Paradise Falls, he sits on his chair and looks one last time at Ellie's scrapbook. It is then that he notices that Ellie had continued to work on the scrapbook throughout the rest of her life filling it with pictures of their life together. At the end of the scrapbook she had written, "Thanks for the adventure - Now go have a new one." Soonafter, in order to save the little boy who traveled with him, Carl has to choose to throw everything that was in the house out so that the house could fly again. Later, after saving the boy, Carl sees the house float away for the last time.

Though I am a bit ashamed that I have personally connected to the story of this fictional animated character, the truth is that there are aspects of his journey that so clearly mirror my own. It has been 18 months since Midi and Nathan died. Lucas and I continue to live in the home that Midi and I started making together six years ago. And I find myself today in a place where I am ready to move forward, physically and emotionally. A big part of this will be packing up and moving out of this house on Abila St. that Midi and I made our home and moving into a new place and making a new home with Lucas. I wasn't ready to do this last year. But I am now. In December, through much thought, prayer, and counsel, I decided to take a leave-of-absence from my teaching position for the '09-'10 school year. So I will have over 12 months to work through this next part of my journey.

Last year I feared any aspect of moving forward. I feared that moving forward would necessarily be tied to letting go, which I desperately did not want to do in any form. I also feared that I would feel guilty if I moved forward and started to experience life as this improved person that God is making me. I think that is why I was completely unable to touch any of Midi's belongings last summer. I just wasn't ready. But what I have realized since then is that there is a certain way that I have to let go of Midi and Nathan if I am to move forward in a healthy way and embrace/seize the rest of my life and the new joys that await me. As I have seen and witnessed that God has so much more for me yet and have experienced joy in new relationships that I have chosen to give myself to, I feel confident that the rest of my life can still be good and purposeful. It is not time in and of itself that has brought me to this place, but it is by seeing over time that despite the pain of loss that I will feel every day of my life, new life and new joy can still come in and coexist with that pain. God has walked with me and graciously given me enough evidence this past year-and-a-half to be confident and eager to embrace what is to come.

Though I do not like to project onto Midi what I think she would say if she could communicate to me today, I think based on what I know of her and what I know of myself if things were the other way around that her sentiments would be similar to that of Ellie: "Thanks for the adventure - Now go have a new one." And as I sit here at the beginning of my time off, I am ready to let go and move forward and embrace the new adventures that God has in store for me and Lucas.


*Obviously, the biggest symbol of moving my life forward is moving to a new home and all that doing so entails. There are other smaller symbols that signify my moving forward, namely shaving my head, which I did on Father's Day. I have actually wanted to cut all my hair off and go with the 1/4" look for quite some time. But I submitted to Midi who absolutely did not want me to. I figured that the only person whose opinion I cared about in regards to how I looked was Midi. So shaving my head is actually pretty meaningful to me in that it symbolizes that I understand that Midi is no longer here and therefore, in some strange way, releases me from my promise not to cut my hair off.

Only One

It has been over 10 months since Midi and Nathan died. During that time, I think I've felt the sting of not having Nathan more frequently than the sting of not having Midi. This has more to do with the fact that as I continue to be Lucas' father, I miss Nathan so much. I miss being his dad, too. I experience this particular kind of bittersweetness of life everyday, many times a day. In a few weeks, I am going to have to face this in the most intense way. I anticipate that the days when Lucas turns five on December 1st (and Nathan does not) and when we celebrate on December 6th will be the hardest, most bittersweet days. Pray for me, Midi's parents, and my parents. I don't know how we are going to make it through those days.

But lately, I've really been missing Midi and my mourning has focused on her. It would have been her 35th birthday this past October 29th. There was only one Midi. There was only one who I loved for all of those years. There was only one whose love I desired and pursued. There was only one who I wanted to marry, be family with, raise children with. There was only one who I dreamed of living with the rest of my life, going on walks with until the day when one of us couldn't walk anymore. There was only one whose walk with God I cared about more than my own, who I wanted to see grow and flourish, who I wanted to see bless others with her gifts. There was only one Midi.

There are so many wonderful qualities that Midi had. What has come into focus for me the past couple of weeks though is what a strong woman she was. But not strong in the traditional or cultural sense. She was strong because she was secure. She never felt the need to convince others that she was right and they were wrong. Our culture has a way of telling women that they need to be everything and do everything. They need to be pure. If not, then they are deemed a "slut", whereas a man is deemed a "player". They need to be attractive by hollywood standards. They need to be independent, strong, family-first, successful, take care of their flawed husband. So much pressure. And that pressure causes so many problems if a woman doesn't know who she is. Midi knew who she was.

She was a safe place for everyone. There was nothing about a person that could keep her from loving them. She wouldn't allow any barrier to block someone out of her life. They could be black/white/brown/yellow, rich/poor, gay/straight, truthful/deceitful, Christian/non-Christian, liberal/conservative, male/female, old/young, smart/dumb, careful/reckless, broken/healed. And everyone knew that about her. She definitely sought to understand more than to be understood.

Back when Midi and I got together (2000), if you had asked those who knew us both (mostly from our UCLA days) about who was the more accomplished spiritual leader or whose faith was stronger, I think 10 out of 10 would have said Midi. I would have been one of those 10, for sure! But there was something about me that Midi saw that I'm not sure others did. And I think that this is more a reflection of who she was than who I was. She trusted me. From day one, she trusted me. Or maybe more accurately, she trusted God. Though I was a work in progress (still am...we all are) she saw the finished picture - and she liked it. She was able to do so, I think, because she was so secure. She was secure as child of God. But she was also secure as a woman. She was secure enough to put herself in the vulnerable position of trusting me to lead us and to do good for her. She didn't have a problem receiving my love. She never felt the need to fight for herself with me. She never felt that she would lose herself with me. She trusted that I heard her, listened to her, valued her, and desired only good for her. And so she was able to jump in with both feet and swim in my love for her.

Not everyone can do this.

But she also knew her value to me. She knew that a guy who saw the world in black and white could use the perspective of one who was comfortable in the grays. She knew that a guy who leaned so heavily towards the truth/justice side of the "Truth/Justice to Love/Grace" scale could really benefit from one who embraced the love/grace side. She knew that our children would receive the best of both worlds from us, partnering together. She knew that by trusting me and trusting that my love for her was unconditional and unbreakable, she was empowering me all the more to love her and lead our family. She knew that she was good for me, and I for her.

I was blessed to be married to Midi for over 6.5 years. We did not have a perfect marriage, but ours was a healthy marriage, never in jeopardy for a second. I realize that one of the enduring gifts that God has given me through Midi is wisdom and perspective regarding marriage. Before my life with Midi, I could never have counseled a young couple about how to deal with conflict. Now I can. What is sad for me though is that while I can bless others from my experiences in marriage with Midi, I can no longer experience it myself. I only have memories left. Bittersweet. Thank you God for Midi. But why did you allow her to die?

Acceptance = Submission

I've been in a funk of late, struggling to connect with God. I thought that it was because August has been such a crazy month. I've been on the road a lot and for the past couple of weeks Lucas' school has been closed as they prepare for the start of the next school year. So my summer, which to that point had been full but fruitful had in some ways been derailed - my routine disrupted. But a couple of days ago during a counseling session with my friend Sam I realized that this funk didn't happen because of a disruption in my routine but started on that night in Santa Barbara when I declared that I would trade my present for my past.

I realized that I had made a declaration that my present would never be good enough. No matter how God redeems and rebuilds and makes things new, it would never be good enough. In making this declaration, I put up a wall between me and God. I put up a wall and closed my heart to the one that has been with me in my suffering. I understood then that I have not accepted what has happened. Acceptance of what has happened and what my reality is now is hard. It has been, is, and will be my biggest act of faith. Acceptance is submission. But it is only in a posture of submission that any of us can receive from God. This is the battle that I must fight. And maybe it seems cruel that I have to fight for anything after what I've been through. It may seem that submission is bad. All of our human instincts fight against submission. If I choose to look at my situation as God forcing me to submit to Him, then I will struggle with Him. I will hate Him. But if I choose to look at submission as an opportunity to allow God in, and if I believe that He is good, then it will be a wise choice.

I'm learning that the past is a powerful force. For some of us, the past was so horrible that we are stuck in it. Abuse, neglect, loss, guilt, and shame keep us from being able to receive from the fully present God because they are rooted in the past and keep us stuck there. For others, the past was so wonderful that we cannot imagine that our present or future can compare. And so we close ourselves to the present God. This is the camp that I'm in. And this is the camp that I need to fight to get out of .

I have experienced God's presence in my life. But His presence in my past, even if it was just yesterday, is not enough to carry me through today. Even if my present is full of pain, I can have access to His presence if I choose. He offers to walk with me, one day at a time, if I will choose to abide in Him. But to abide, I must trust Him. I must submit.

Maybe there is a way that I can fully accept that my past life with Midi and Nathan was wonderful but is now gone. Maybe I can accept that to even consider trading the present for the past is not an option and so shouldn't be considered. And maybe I can accept what my life is now and I can choose to walk with God. And maybe I can escape the paradigm of comparison, or of cause and effect. Maybe I can be fully grateful for the past and the present. I don't know yet. But I'm wrestling with Him now, instead of building the wall.

Trade

"All those years I fell for the great palace lie that grief should be gotten over as quickly as possible and as privately. But what I've discovered since is that the lifelong fear of grief keeps us in a barren, isolated place and that only grieving can heal grief; the passage of time will lessen the acuteness, but time alone, without the direct experience of grief, will not heal it." ... "I'm pretty sure that it is only by experiencing the ocean of sadness in a naked and immediate way that we come to be healed - which is to say, that we come to experience life with a real sense of presence and spaciousness and peace." (Anne Lamott from Traveling Mercies)


My life is good.

As I sat outside a beautiful house, in a beautiful garden, in beautiful Santa Barbara, with the presence of thousands of stars, with meteors splashing light across the night sky, I reflected on how good my life is. I have an amazing son, who I am able to love more deeply than before, who I take joy in, who is so fun to be around. I have deep, deep friendships with several men I can call brothers that have been growing stronger week by week. I am a part of a vibrant, alive community of faith, where people of every color and walk of life love each other and exist to include others. I am growing in my love for FOL as I give it more of my heart and receive more from them. I have parents (Midi's as well as my own) who I love deeply and who love me deeply right back. I have family that I'm growing closer to as we learn to walk together through pain. And I have some who are starting to get to know Jesus. This brings me great joy. I know Jesus as the present one, the one who is with me, who comforts me and brings me peace. I know this Jesus in ways that I did not know him before the accident.

As I sat outside mindful of how good my life is and what wonderful things are happening around me, I felt strongly in my heart that I would give it all back to have Midi and Nathan back in my life. There is something in this that seems perfectly natural - of course I'm supposed to feel this way! But as I cried and cried I wondered if there will be a point where I am able to fully embrace the blessings of my present life without comparing it to (and wanting to trade it for) my blessed life with them? And I feel guilty in saying this at this stage, but I hope there is. If the day ever comes, I cannot imagine that I can marry again or welcome another child while continuing to feel this.

I think that this is yet another example of how we must all live in the present. As much as I want to, I cannot have my past back. I can always have the love I feel for Midi and Nathan because love is organic; love is living. Love is very present. It is the life with them that I cannot have again this side of heaven. My past life with Midi and Nathan was so, so good. It was special. Though it wasn't perfect, it was perfect to me. But my present life is pretty good, too. And good things are happening all around me. I hope I can embrace the present, where God himself dwells, with completely open arms. And someday, I hope that I will accept the beauty of my past and the fact that it is gone so that I will stop feeling in my heart that I would trade the present for it.