One Of Those Days!

Have you ever had one of those days? Today I had one of those days...and it's not over with yet. Although it's been one of those days it is probably not exactly what you're thinking.

It started out with a breakfast meeting with a man who I've been meeting with while he is awaiting trial. His future is uncertain and he is seperated from his wife and children by thousands of miles of dirt and water. I have watched the Lord move in his life and transform his character. What once started off as a meeting with a man with no hope has turned into listening to him talk about the books he found at a thrift store that will help him learn to be the man-husband-father God has always intended him to be. Where he once was selfabsorbed now he finds ways to bless others. His countanance has changed from gloomy and depressing to bright and cheery. This was good for my soul.

Next I went to the children's hospital to pray for a 3 week old boy with Down's Syndrome. They are trying to fatten him up so he can undergo heart surgery to repair a heart defect. His mother was an encouragement to me as she so lovingly cared for her handsome little son. She smiled as she told me that God had specifically chosen her to care for this precious gift. This was good for my soul.

Now it was time for lunch with a colleague. I had the joy of sharing a good meal with a good friend. The lunch was Indian food. This was good for my soul.

I had the opportunity to pray for relief from demonic activity for a young lady who has suffered from abuse of all sorts from the men in her life who should have been protecting her. After we prayed for her she prayed to give her life to Jesus. This was good for my soul.

From there I drove to the far side of the Valley to pray with a beloved saint whose race is nearing the finish line. I met him and his dear wife in Israel 7 years ago. We prayed for him 4 years back when the doctors told him the cancer would take his life within 6-7 months. Four years later the doctors are still amazed. He praised his Saviour for His goodness. I told him I love him and that the next time I see him will be on the other side. He smiled and drifted back off to sleep. This was good for my soul.

Now I am having a good cup of coffee while I write this blog post. This is good for my soul.

In an hour I will be meeting with a group of South Asian leaders from various Indian fellowship across the Valley as we spend time in prayer together. Different ministries seeking the Lord's guidance as we reach out to the Indian community for Jesus Christ. Men on their knees crying out to the Lord. This is good for my soul.

This has proven to be quite a day. I could use more days like this day. "One of those days" like this are good for my soul.

Do Real Men Weep?

Recently I had the honor of siting beside the bed of a man who may see Jesus face to face before I am able to visit with him again. The most difficult part of my job is the best part of my job. I get paid to love people. I'm a pastor, that's what I do.

I held this precious man's hand as we talked. His cancer has progressed rapidly as of late and his body has deteriorated quite a bit since visited him two weeks ago. I had prayed the Lord would not take him home before I returned from India and He was gracious to me in allowing me to spend a little more time with my friend before he draws his final breath here on the earth.

Tears were welling up in my eyes as he said, "Don't cry." Don't cry...I could not not cry. But why was I weeping? Although we are friends, it is not like we are the best of buds. He is a man in our church that I have become very fond of. I know he is going to heaven to see Jesus. That is not why I wept.

I know the kind of pain to lose a loved one and yet that was not the reason I wept. His wife, adult daughters, sons-in-law, and grand-children are hurting and will soon have the most bitter tears that have ever burned their cheeks. But I was not weeping for them.

Why was I weeping?

I thought about that question as I drove back to the church office. Why was I weeping? That is when the Lord spoke to my heart. He reminded me of the story of Jesus as He delayed when called to go help His friend Lazarus. He then received word that Lazarus had died. His disciples wanted to turn back as they feared persecution from the Jewish leaders if they returned to Bethany which was near Jerusalem.

Jesus said to them, "Come on guys. Let's go back to Bethany and I will show you something really cool!" OK, that is my paraphrase version. Jesus was going to Bethany, not to heal Lazarus, but to raise Lazarus from the dead.

When Jesus met Mary and Martha, Lazarus' sisters, His emotions welled up in His eyes. We all know the verse because it is the shortest verse in the Bible. John 11:35 - Jesus wept.

Although it is the shortest verse it is one of the most moving verses in all scripture. Jesus wept. Jesus knew He was going to raise Lazarus from the dead so I don't believe He was sorrowing over the loss of a friend or the pain his sisters were going through. I believe Jesus wept for the same reason I wept as I held the hand of a dieing friend...This is not the way things are supposed to be.

Death is never a friend. Death is a result of the Fall. This is not the way things are supposed to be and our souls know it very well. My soul longs for the day when Jesus returns and makes everything right. My soul longs for the day when there is no more sin, no more pain, no more death. We were made for something so much more that this mere earthly existence. We were made for, and long for, a close, intimate relationship with the triune God.

I weep because this is not the way things are supposed to be, but this is not the way things will always be. If real men don't weep then Jesus and I are not real men.



1 Corinthians 15:51–58 (New Living Translation)

⁵¹ But let me reveal to you a wonderful secret. We will not all die, but we will all be transformed! ⁵² It will happen in a moment, in the blink of an eye, when the last trumpet is blown. For when the trumpet sounds, those who have died will be raised to live forever. And we who are living will also be transformed. ⁵³ For our dying bodies must be transformed into bodies that will never die; our mortal bodies must be transformed into immortal bodies.

⁵⁴ Then, when our dying bodies have been transformed into bodies that will never die, this Scripture will be fulfilled:

“Death is swallowed up in victory.

⁵⁵ O death, where is your victory?

O death, where is your sting?”

⁵⁶ For sin is the sting that results in death, and the law gives sin its power. ⁵⁷ But thank God! He gives us victory over sin and death through our Lord Jesus Christ.

⁵⁸ So, my dear brothers and sisters, be strong and immovable. Always work enthusiastically for the Lord, for you know that nothing you do for the Lord is ever useless.

Little Graces, part II

A few weeks ago we received a call at the church office. A woman who attends the church had a three year old nephew who nearly drowned 36 hours before and was in the hospital on life support. Things were not looking good for the little boy I'll call Billy (not his real name). She was wanting a pastor to go to the hospital and pray for little Billy.

I took an intern, Jason, along with me. We prepared ourselves, as much as possible, for what would probably be the most difficult hospital visit we would ever make. We sat in my truck praying for the Lord to have mercy on Billy and his family. We prayed for the Lord to give us His strength. We prayed for the Lord to be glorified through us as we tried to minister to a hurting family who had no relationship with God. Then we drove to the hospital knowing God was going to use us...somehow.

We walked into the room and saw the lifeless body of this precious little boy surrounded by monitors connected to him by tubes and wires. His mother stood by his side while his father was standing apart, trying to strike a deal with God for the life of his son. The mood was somber as the nurse went about her duties with love and compassion.

We introduced ourselves and let them know we were from the church and who it was that had called us. We asked if it would be okay if we anointed Billy with oil and prayed for him. The father said it couldn't hurt and they were willing to try anything. They were desperate.

Jason pulled out his vial of frankincense scented oil. The room filled with the sweet aroma as we anointed little Billy's head with the oil. We laid our hands on his little body as we prayed for the Lord to restore him to health and that there would be no lasting brain damage.

Nothing special happened. No thunder. No shaking of the hospital building. No chills. Nothing!

Billy's 15 year old brother took me over to show me what some of the monitors we measuring. This is the brother who was watching Billy when he slipped away and found his way outside and into the pool. As he was showing me the line that measured Billy's ventilator activity, Jason bent over Billy and whispered a prayer into his ear while he held the little lifeless hand.

All of a sudden the monitor went from a small jagged zigzag line to a couple of high peaks with very low valleys. Billy was breathing against the ventilator!

Jason started shouting! I looked over to see Billy's eyes open and he was focusing on all that was going on around him. He was squeezing Jason's finger. Billy's mother started crying as his father ran out of the room to go tell the rest of the family gathered in the waiting room.

It only lasted for a few seconds but it happened. Hope was renewed. Billy had a chance.

I went to visit Billy the next day to see a marked improvement. Billy had to be sedated to keep from pulling at the tubes and wires. The nurse was preparing him for an MRI to see what kind of brain damage he would have.

Billy's father called me on Sunday morning to tell me they had taken Billy off all life support on Saturday evening. Billy was awake and alert. He recognized everyone and was asking to eat his fathers burrito. There were no visible signs of brain damage from observing him and the MRI was unable to show any areas of his brain that appeared to be damaged in any way.

PRAISE GOD!!!

God is so good! He has chosen to show Himself strong on Billy's behalf and glorifying Himself by raising little Billy up. I praise Him for letting Jason and myself to be a part of His work. In the business of ministry life God chooses to bestow little graces like this on me. It is not that I am a healer; I had one day where I prayed for three men and all three of them died the following day. No, there is no power in my prayer, there is only power in the risen Savior, Jesus Christ.

He just invites me along for the ride.

Little Graces

I am coming off one of the most difficult, no, THE most difficult week I have had since I've been involved in ministry. I received the call that every pastor dreads. The call in the night that sends a pastor running out of the house, half awake, to go be with a wife as she stands by the hospital bed of her husband who was involved in an accident.

About 24 hours later I am with her again, for the third time, as the doctors take her husband off of life support. In just a few more hours he is resting peacefully in the arms of Christ. I drive home, in the middle of the night, alone, weeping. Grieving over what I've just witnessed. Grieving over a young widow, with a severely handicapped son, who is now without the man she loves to help her take care of their son. Grieving over the toll sin requires from each of us. Grieving, because this is just not the way it's supposed to be.

The funeral was requested for just two days later. The family wanted me to perform the memorial; I was just physically and emotionally exhausted. I had nothing left to give. Some of the other pastors lifted the weight from my shoulders and took care of it from there for me. That was one of those little graces.

Little graces are those times when God sends someone or something into your life to show you He cares for you. We have all had them. You may have overlooked them, but He sends them anyway. Have you ever slowed down enough to notice them?

Here are a few of the little graces I've noticed in my life these past few days.

Having fellow pastors to come along side to lift you up when you are weary. Thanks guys. Little graces.

Taking a mid term exam in seminary and earning a D. The professor adjusts my score to a B. Thanks Dr. D. Little graces.

Holding a friends 10 month old son and he doesn't deposit any bodily fluids on me. Thanks Seth. Little graces.

Hearing of real life change happening in the India Fellowship as we grow. Little graces.

Sharing a meal with my bride as we celebrate 33 years of marriage. Thanks Denice. Little graces.

Talking to my daughter on the phone. Thanks Sara. Little graces.

If you sit down and get still with God, He will show you some of the little graces He has sent your way. Try it. You might be surprised and that would be one of those little graces.

Grace and peace to you my friend.
Brian

Bob's Story

BOB'S STORY

THE STORY OF A FATHER'S GRIEVING OVER

THE DEATH OF A LOVING DAUGHTER

PREFIX AND PURPOSE

I fear that if Karen's life and death is not put in writing, future generations will not know her. I believe that would be a great loss. As I talk with friends it is as her passing is the huge elephant in the room that no one can mention. I love to talk of her and the direct point she had for her life, to bring honor and glory to her Savior.

Another purpose in putting these thoughts on paper is a selfish reason. Maybe there can be some closure in some part to this matter of losing someone so sweet and precious in the prime of her youth, so to speak. I must admit that many times I cried, “God, you got the wrong one….what about that drunk or that self centered person ….you are calling the wrong person from us.”

I trust that this story will be factual and therefore truthful. We had times of joy, precious periods of prayer and comfort in seeing our grandchildren, though in heavy sorrow learning to lean on the Lord. There were times of disappointment as we walked a lonely road that we had not been called upon to tread before. As I reflect this painful journey, I must be real as to my hurts and pains.

I will write this from my prospective. If you see something different, please feel free to write your own story.

The Desert of Grief

This morning I found myself weeping in the shower, no, not weeping, sobbing. I was overcome by grief. It has been about seven weeks since my dear sister, Karen, passed away. This is the first Christmas without her. She lived in California with her husband and three children, so she was not always here in Phoenix every Christmas, but this is the first Christmas knowing we will never again, this side of heaven, gaze into her eyes that would almost disappear when she smiled.

As I stood in the shower sobbing, the wall was the only thing that kept me from collapsing onto the shower floor. I felt the warm water washing over me and I heard the Lord speak to me. It was not an audible voice, I'm grieving, not psychotic (although the line between the two can be razor thin). Jesus reminded me that He wept for Lazarus as He stood near Lazarus' tomb.

Jesus then asked me why He would have wept for Lazarus. I had to think about that for a while. I don't think it was because Jesus thought He had lost His friend forever. He knew he was going to raise him from the dead. It may have been because of His empathy for Mary and Martha, Lazarus' sisters, and the pain they were going through. But I imagine it was much deeper than that. I think Jesus wept because this was not the way things are supposed to be.

Grieving is a physical reaction to a loss. It can be the loss of a loved one, the loss of dear pet, the loss of a marriage through divorce, or even the loss of one's innocence from being sinned against. Our bodies yearn for the way things are supposed to be. Our soul longs for the time when Jesus will set all things right.

Jesus will come back one day soon, and in that day, He will restore everything back to the way it was meant to be from the very beginning. And in that day He will wipe away every tear from our eyes. Until then we will have death, sorrow, and tears.

Someone once told me, "Grieving is a process, not an event." How true that is. Sometimes it feels like a desert. I am writing this from Canaan In The Desert, a prayer garden in Phoenix. It is a desert garden, not a lush, green, European style garden with green grass, tall hedges, and beautiful aromatic flowers. Right now, there are no flowers. It is cold, dry, and desolate, and that is the way I feel at the moment.

I don't always feel that way. Sometimes I want to be around people and laugh. But sometimes I want to be all alone and weep. I want people to ask me how I am doing and alternately I want people to say nothing at all. I tend to be a logical person, and yet I find myself doing or saying things that are totally illogical.

What I have learned is that people who are living through the grief process need much grace. Grace and prayer. I don't need to be reminded that Karen is in a better place. I know that. I don't need to be reminded that one day we will be reunited. I know that. I do not weep for Karen, I weep for me. I know that sounds selfish, but it is the truth. Karen is with Jesus and I weep for my loss. And that is okay.

Does the grieving process ever end? I don't know, I'll let you know if I ever get there. But I hope it does not. Oh, I don't want to stay forever in this phase, but I am afraid that if the grieving ends totally I will never be able see her face or hear her laugh again.

So if you see me and I am not my normal jovial self, extend to me the grace I need, and say a silent prayer for me as I am in the Desert of Grief.