HCLM BLOG

In a very rare and unusual occurrence, I found myself at the airport in plenty of time before my flight. It was 6:30a, plenty of time for a healthy breakfast. In what seemed like a moment of divine intervention, I walked passed a bistro which boasted the words “healthy food.” Perfect, I thought, with taste buds already dancing with delight. Even better, I would discover, was a breakfast special for $5.99 at the airport. It even came with a drink. Perfect for my frugalness, or as my wife Margaret likes to say, the finance manager. Now “healthy” might have been a stretch. The aforementioned special was scrambled eggs, hash browns (think McDonalds) and sausage (think McDonalds with extra grease).

It made me think about how easy it is to boast a title…”healthy…expert…fast.” All very relative terms. Here’s another one, “Christian.” I know many boast that title and many carry it in different ways. Just what does it mean to be a follower of Jesus?

I was so glad I was having a good morning. Going through security I greeted the agent that checks your ticket and identification with a smile, thank you and have a nice day. She asked if I was a reverend. I asked how she knew. Evidentially my title is on my frequent flyer account. I hope in a small way, that brief encounter left a different impression in her mind about Jesus. I walked away thinking about how many such encounters where I had blown an opportunity. I think being a follower of Jesus requires an understanding of grace and forgiveness. It’s the only way to meet the next opportunity. God I’m available. Use me

I am fresh back from an incredible, month-long experience in Israel. It was such a great blessing to experience the culture, the history, the people. A great word of thanks for Rotary that pays for the entire trip and for selecting me. It was a great trip and I am home safely with my wonderful wife...good news. (As I process the trip and my journal, for those that are interested, keep looking at the blog. I would love to share some of my experience with you).

I also found out that while I was gone, we had several students sign up for the summer mission trip to Atlanta as we rebuild homes in the area after the extensive flooding last fall. To be exact, we had 22 students sign up, a new record for us. I wasn't sure we would have that many with the National Youth Gathering this summer, an every three year event. But I'm proud of our students, they love to serve. More good news.

The bad news (sorry I didn't warn you) is that I had two adults have to back out of attending the trip which leaves us really short. If you know an adult (or two) who could benefit from a week of serving along side some great students, please let me know. We leave Saturday, June 26 and get back Saturday, July 3. 

I'm not talking about the ex-Detroit Piston captain, now FIU coach, I'm talking about my dog, Isaiah. The day finally came yesterday, the day that I knew was coming, the day that I also have been dreading. I made the tough decision to put him down. He has had problems for several months which had gotten to the point where he couldn't get up on his own without assistance. I cried through the phone call to the veterinarian office who miraculously was able to understand my request. They came to my house at lunch time and he died in my arms. We made the decision to bury him in the yard.

Margaret was wonderful through the entire process. She took a lot of time away from work. She cried with me. She held me. She was a wonderful example of love in action. She went out and bought mulch and flowers and read a wonderful passage of Scripture as we said our final goodbyes. It couldn't have been easy to watch your husband be reduced to tears.

It is tough saying goodbye to a faithful companion of almost 13 years. And I realize that unless you are a pet owner or lover, you probably are wondering, "what's the big deal." If that is you, you should know that this isn't really about Isaiah. It is about me and my relationship with God. As I sat outside early this morning, thinking and praying by his grave, I realized that for as much as I love Jesus, loss still hurts. It hurts a lot. I was still tearing up this afternoon talking with a friend at lunch. Loving Jesus doesn't change or take away the pain. Simple truth but it is worth repeating every once in a while.

In a conference call this morning, I thought of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, the three men thrown into the furnace, (see Daniel 3). They were bound and thrown in because they refused to worship the image of gold Nebuchadnezzar made. The Bible describes their condition coming out of the furnace. "The fire had not harmed their bodies, nor was a hair of their heads singed; their robes were not scorched, and there was no smell of fire on them (Daniel 3:27)." So what did burn in the fire? The only thing that burned in the fire were the ropes, the things that they were holding them back. I think God will use pain to burn off the things that are holding us back.

 I am so thankful for Margaret, my wonderful wife. The day would have been unbearable without her comfort and compassion. I am thankful for the texts and Facebook messages from so many friends. I treasured the prayers. But I am dependent on Jesus, my Lord who is Sovereign over all things, the God of all comfort who continues to walk with me in the midst of pain. God taught me a lot through Isaiah, even in his passing.

I miss you Isaiah. Rest in Peace.

Isaiah Thomas

May 1, 1997 - 

April 22, 2010.

Saturday started out so wonderful why did I let it turn in a different direction? Margaret brought me breakfast in bed, a nice treat after staying up late watching the Detroit Red Wings win game two of their Stanley Cup playoff match up. After getting cleaned up, she made a simple request, can you help clean the house today, just vacuum the rugs. That's where the day turned. If I would have been thinking clearly, or at all, I would have said, "sure." But I went into my litany of things that needed to be done, mow the lawn, meeting, VBS calls, work on curriculum for Children's Ministry, prepare for a confirmation meeting, blah, blah...Saturday is a work day for me!

We then digressed into who puts in more time into chores, each of us making a good defense. I then suggested we purchase a time card machine and log our hours. (I was partly kidding.) As I was mowing, I went over my closing statement in my mind, perfecting it like I was on Law & Order. Then it occurred to me that I totally blew it. The issue wasn't really the issue as my professor used to remind us. The issue is that we both felt overwhelmed and under-appreciated. 

Anyone need a slightly used time clock?

Here is the blessing that I often use. Delivered as promised to several people at last night's Crusader for Education Dinner last night.

May God go

Above you to protect you

Beneath you to uphold you

In front of you to lead you

Behind you to encourage you

Beside you to befriend you

Within you to inspire you

Go with the peace and power of Almighty God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

Many thanks to John Kieschnick who introduced me to the blessing.

There is a wonderful couple that lives close to our house. They walk together regularly and have gotten to be pretty good friends with my dog Isaiah who loves to spend his time sitting outside, watching people go by. They stop and give him a treat. Isaiah loves them. He is the reason that I met them. The problem is that he thinks my name is Bob. That's what he calls me. So do I make him feel uncomfortable and correct him or do I just live with Bob? (Suggestions welcome).

That got me thinking about relationships. My dad, a wonderful man who (hard to believe) died almost 15 years ago, was a man who kept personal things personal. I don't ever remember hearing war stories from WWII or how he felt or seeing him get emotional about anything. (Although friends told me they saw him cry at my ordination.) Dad wasn't a very emotional person. At least comparatively speaking, I am pretty emotional and passionate. But I do have the tendency, like my dad, to keep personal things personal. To keep my cards close to my chest. I am thankful for my wonderful wife and a select group of friends with whom I have learned to let down my guard. They are a treasure. I wonder if my dad had such a close group of people around him? Do you? Do they know your name? My name is Bob.

I was on the treadmill at 6a this morning listening to a podcast, trying to wake up my legs along with the rest of my body that seemed to be sleepwalking or more accurately, sleeprunning. The speaker was challenging people to think of the key phrases that they use when praying. You've probably used some of my favorites, if not all of these, "thank you for today, watch over me, and the ever popular bless me." That last one intrigues me, mostly because I have said it a lot, mostly while I'm sleep praying, trying to wake up and say what is really on my mind. Is that really what I would say to God when I see Him face to face? I imagine "Wow you are awesome" might be the first words out of my mouth. But "bless me?" I mean isn't our role to bless God, to lift Him up? And doesn't God bless His work already? And if I'm doing something that God isn't already blessing, do I really want to ask Him to bless it? Maybe a wake up call is in order. We have a God who loves us that offers us the opportunity to communicate with Him at any point of any day. God help me not sleepwalk through my prayers!

I'll start with a confession...it is good for the soul after all. I didn't want to come to the Student Ministry L-team last night. It's not that I don't love the students, I do...or that I don't enjoy our series, based on the movie, To Save a Life, I do. It was just that I had about 3 hours of sleep on Sunday night. Not sure why...just couldn't get my mind to slow down enough to sleep. So I was up at 1:30a. And I was cranky. Enough for the confession.

I got a late e-mail Friday night from the IRS saying there was a problem with my tax return and thus there would be a delay in the refund and would I please contact an IRS representative referencing a certain code. So with that hanging over my head all weekend I called at 8a Monday morning. After a 15 minute hold listening to tax music, I got a live person, who after listening to my story, put me on hold. More music...then nothing. The call dropped. Back to the 15 minute wait, new person...again on hold only to be dropped again. The third person I spoke with that morning promised me he wouldn't put me on hold and after 30 minutes with him, concluded that the problem was not several terrifying alternatives but rather due to the fact that because Margaret's name was listed first, they couldn't find the estimated taxes that I had claimed on the return. He transferred them over and said it should be processed in 2-3 weeks. So all that weekend anxiety for nothing. It seems that we tax payers have a tendency to do that a lot...worry about something that turns out to be nothing. Perhaps that is why "Fear not" was a favorite phrase for many angels.

I can remember this same refrain shouted by various friends throughout my childhood..."DO OVER!" Usually, it was a ball that hit a tree limb, a wire or something that, in their estimation, should constitute starting over from scratch. There are many times I wish life were that easy. Wouldn't it be wonderful to have a reset button like the old Atari game system in which we could begin again without any consequences, other than a few lost minutes?