As I type this I am sitting in my backyard, surrounded by towering evergreens and feeling the faintest whisper of wind. It's the end of December and it's almost 70 degrees out here in central Oklahoma. Odd, to say the least, but a beautiful day nonetheless and one we welcome before the stranglehold of winter comes to take it away.
So much has happened in the month or so since I've last shared with you. Hannah, despite her surgery this past summer, has had an increasing number of seizures and is having trouble remembering things again. It's disturbing and our options for future treatment are dwindling. Do we repeat the surgery? Do we increase her medications? It's rather like shooting in the dark at this point. She has a follow up appointment with her local neurologist in January. Hopefully we'll know more by then.
My foot, on which I had surgery in October, is nearly healed, thank God. Benjamin, too, with his broken arm is nearly fully recovered. Both of us are enjoying our increased mobility and activity. I'm hoping to begin running again in January.
Vickie is plugging away patiently at her job at Walmart. It kills me to see her going off to work. For over 15 years I was the sole provider of our little family and, God forgive me, it was a source of pride for me knowing that Vickie could stay home with the kids. Now that I'm in school full-time, she has been obligated to take this mantle, one which she wears effectively. We both know it is but for a short time. As soon as I graduate medical school and get into a residency I will be making enough money for us to survive. Until then she plods to work every day, faithfully doing what she can. Neither I nor the kids deserve her, a fact of which I am reminded every day.
It's a strange dynamic that is evolving with our internet ministry. For seven years I was a Messianic Rabbi, serving congregations in Texas and Pennsylvania. Now I am simply myself again and finding this adjustment more challenging than I originally thought. It took me a long time and a lot of study to become a rabbi, and to lose it so quickly makes me ask myself, "what was the point"? I am grateful for what God did during those many years but now those years are over. I've noticed that people treat me differently. Even some of my colleagues in the ministry seem to have moved on. The sense of isolation increases. My goal for the internet ministry is that it would be a source of balanced Messianic Jewish teaching and, after I graduate school, a vehicle through which I report my work as a medical missionary, for this is my heart. My hope is that, through the ministry of medicine and health to people, they would open themselves up to the ministry of Y'shua (Jesus) for I will be doing both simultaneously. It's been my experience that people will truly know that they are loved when they see a practical application of that love. Medical missionary work is perfect for showing this kind of love for truly it's how Y'shua conducted His ministry!
So, as we approach this new year of 2012, there is much reason for hope and many opportunities to learn from 2011. The more things have changed for us the more we see God's constant love and faithfulness. He has been so good to us and has provided, and continues to provide, when all other avenues have vanished. In the past five months that we have been in Oklahoma, for example, He has provided us with a place to live, a job for Vickie, money to put food on the table and pay for utilities. He has safely settled us in a land where we have no family and has helped us survive, giving us the sweet fellowship of believers both near and far. God is good, and we taste of His goodness every day.
I pray that God demonstrates His faithfulness to you, dear reader, in the coming year and that, when December 2012 rolls around, you will be able to testify of His abounding faithfulness.
God bless you and protect you!
I'll keep you posted.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
What a month . . .
I can hardly believe it's been a little more than a month since my last post on this blog! So much has happened in that small collection of days!
Benjamin, my nine year old son, was playing outside with his friends a couple of weeks ago and, inspired by some terrible muse at which I can only guess, decided that it would be fun to roll down our inclined driveway on a small plastic truck. Predictably, Ben fell off of the truck and landed on his right arm, said arm promptly snapping in two near the shoulder. Many emergency room hours later, we discovered that the bone had not only snapped, but that it had snapped so easily because of a bone tumor called a unicarmal bone cyst (UBC). Apparently these cysts, which occur mostly in children, significantly weaken the affected bones. Ben could have more of these in different places in his body. The treatment? Wait until he is 20 years old at which point natural strong bone will fill the cysts and he should be fine. Until then, for the next 11 years, he should "exercise caution" in his activity so as to not break another bone. Thankfully his arm is currently healing well and this young boy is proudly sporting his fiberglass cast as a well-earned badge of honor.
Vickie, my lovely wife, is working diligently at her part-time job at Walmart. She is grateful for the work, but is often little more than a glorified housekeeper. It is the prayer of both of us that she will be able to find different work that will utilize her many skills and pay more. We appreciate prayer about this!
I should find out next week if I have been accepted to the local university. I've already begun to integrate myself into the pre-med club here, an interesting experience. The folks at the club seem sincere if not a bit zealous. Most of them are young enough to be my son or daughter! At my first meeting I sat next to a kind young man who looked like he was 14 years old. It is going to be a bit of generational culture shock to submerge myself into this world, but it is a challenge I embrace and for which I am grateful.
Finally, our online teaching ministry is getting organized. Our website, www.scroll2soul.com, is looking better and, beginning the first Sabbath (Saturday) in December, we will begin live Bible study broadcasts via the website. Vickie and I both are looking forward to it.
As I type this, I'm waiting to see the podiatrist, following up on my ankle surgery a month ago. I better sign off for now. Thank you for reading!
I'll keep you posted.
Benjamin, my nine year old son, was playing outside with his friends a couple of weeks ago and, inspired by some terrible muse at which I can only guess, decided that it would be fun to roll down our inclined driveway on a small plastic truck. Predictably, Ben fell off of the truck and landed on his right arm, said arm promptly snapping in two near the shoulder. Many emergency room hours later, we discovered that the bone had not only snapped, but that it had snapped so easily because of a bone tumor called a unicarmal bone cyst (UBC). Apparently these cysts, which occur mostly in children, significantly weaken the affected bones. Ben could have more of these in different places in his body. The treatment? Wait until he is 20 years old at which point natural strong bone will fill the cysts and he should be fine. Until then, for the next 11 years, he should "exercise caution" in his activity so as to not break another bone. Thankfully his arm is currently healing well and this young boy is proudly sporting his fiberglass cast as a well-earned badge of honor.
Vickie, my lovely wife, is working diligently at her part-time job at Walmart. She is grateful for the work, but is often little more than a glorified housekeeper. It is the prayer of both of us that she will be able to find different work that will utilize her many skills and pay more. We appreciate prayer about this!
I should find out next week if I have been accepted to the local university. I've already begun to integrate myself into the pre-med club here, an interesting experience. The folks at the club seem sincere if not a bit zealous. Most of them are young enough to be my son or daughter! At my first meeting I sat next to a kind young man who looked like he was 14 years old. It is going to be a bit of generational culture shock to submerge myself into this world, but it is a challenge I embrace and for which I am grateful.
Finally, our online teaching ministry is getting organized. Our website, www.scroll2soul.com, is looking better and, beginning the first Sabbath (Saturday) in December, we will begin live Bible study broadcasts via the website. Vickie and I both are looking forward to it.
As I type this, I'm waiting to see the podiatrist, following up on my ankle surgery a month ago. I better sign off for now. Thank you for reading!
I'll keep you posted.
Monday, October 17, 2011
Kims Web
Today marks a week since my surgery. Although I know that the outcome will be great, at this point in the game I'm not totally sure that it was worth it. The discomfort has increased with the days and I am more than ready to get the entire thing over with. My wife continues to pamper me, the only bright light during this experience!
On a happier note, my exile to the couch has given me a lot of time to think and pray. Just outside the window is an enormous web with a fat and apparently happy spider sitting in its center. The kids have named the spider Kim. Poor Kim has had her web destroyed time and time again since we moved-in a couple of months ago. Despite this, she continues to rebuild. I have to ask myself, why? Why bother working on something so beautiful and so delicate with the almost certain knowledge that it will be torn down? Yet, there she is, spinning the slender silver strands into art that would be envied in any museum.
You'll forgive me if I wax philosophical for a moment. I was reading through the book of Luke recently and ran across a wonderful Greek term, "macrothumeyo" which means, generally, to "hang in there" or to "endure hardship until justice comes". What a wonderful word. So often I forget that life isn't necessarily supposed to be easy. We can forget that it is usually from times of adversity and struggle from which our greatest triumph and victory emerge. I'm learning that trial, not temptation, can become a defining force in our lives and literally shape who we are. No one hails a 24 year old man who can throw a football leisurely in his backyard. Place that same man doing the same thing in midst of a Superbowl battle, however, and great victory can often result.
The past year has been pretty hard for our family. There have been a lot of changes and challenges. It goes without saying that God has remained faithful in the midst of all of them. We are learning, though, that these times of trying are opportunities for us to grow: to grow in our faith in Him and to grow in our love and understanding for each other.
We are purposing, then, to continue to "rebuild" our webs like Keep-along Kim and, despite what winds blow around us, pursue the dream we believe God has given us for the future.
I hope you will, too.
I'll keep you posted.
On a happier note, my exile to the couch has given me a lot of time to think and pray. Just outside the window is an enormous web with a fat and apparently happy spider sitting in its center. The kids have named the spider Kim. Poor Kim has had her web destroyed time and time again since we moved-in a couple of months ago. Despite this, she continues to rebuild. I have to ask myself, why? Why bother working on something so beautiful and so delicate with the almost certain knowledge that it will be torn down? Yet, there she is, spinning the slender silver strands into art that would be envied in any museum.
You'll forgive me if I wax philosophical for a moment. I was reading through the book of Luke recently and ran across a wonderful Greek term, "macrothumeyo" which means, generally, to "hang in there" or to "endure hardship until justice comes". What a wonderful word. So often I forget that life isn't necessarily supposed to be easy. We can forget that it is usually from times of adversity and struggle from which our greatest triumph and victory emerge. I'm learning that trial, not temptation, can become a defining force in our lives and literally shape who we are. No one hails a 24 year old man who can throw a football leisurely in his backyard. Place that same man doing the same thing in midst of a Superbowl battle, however, and great victory can often result.
The past year has been pretty hard for our family. There have been a lot of changes and challenges. It goes without saying that God has remained faithful in the midst of all of them. We are learning, though, that these times of trying are opportunities for us to grow: to grow in our faith in Him and to grow in our love and understanding for each other.
We are purposing, then, to continue to "rebuild" our webs like Keep-along Kim and, despite what winds blow around us, pursue the dream we believe God has given us for the future.
I hope you will, too.
I'll keep you posted.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Ouch
There's something I should let you know. It's not a huge secret, not an earth-tearing revelation, but a truth that I have come to realize ever more profoundly in the past couple of days.
I don't like pain. Pain and I are not now, nor do I anticipate we shall ever be, friends in the most flippant definition of the word. We don't get along.
On Monday I had a surgery to reconstruct some ligaments I tore about four years ago in my right ankle. We were at a friend's house and I stepped off of his front patio the wrong way. A loud "pop" came from my right ankle, said ankle quickly swelling to the size of a baseball, and down I went. At the hospital ER, after x-ray's and an examination, it wasn't broken, thank God. I was handed an ace-wrap, given some mild pain-killing drugs, and sent on my happy way.
In the ensuing months and years, however, after repeatedly spraining that same ankle over and over and over, it was clear there was a problem. Finally, this past Monday, we fixed that problem with a procedure called a "modified Brostöm". The surgeon went in, shaved some bone, and reattached the ligaments that I had ripped apart as well as did some tendon modification, all of this placing my ankle back in the right position and giving it renewed strength.
Now, armed with Tylenol 3 and a cast, I sit here on the couch and share my challenge with you, dear reader. I suppose misery really does love company and you (lucky!) are that company. My lovely wife is pampering me. I am reminded daily how I married up when we wed. The kids are understanding and supportive. And I have to stay on this couch with absolutely no pressure on my foot or ankle for at least three weeks. Full healing should come in 9-12 weeks.
At the risk of sounding cliché, this entire ongoing experience reminds me of some pretty profound spiritual truths. In our current Western culture of Microwave Miracles and McReligion, we have often been taught that, when encountered with a challenge, we can simply call on God and He will instantly fix everything and, hence, we should walk through life with ease and victory.
The Bible, however, shows us a different way. It's not that God can't "instantly" fix us or our problems. He can and sometimes does. Like so many other things in our lives, though, He often wants us to go through a process, a time, however prolonged it may be, of growth, pain, challenge and trial, until final victory is achieved. This process may take a few hours or a few years, it's really dependent on Him. We can be assured, however, regardless of the pain involved, that the journey of pain is for our benefit and for our healing, for God really does love us.
It's time for me to take more Tylenol 3.
Ow.
I'll keep you posted.
I don't like pain. Pain and I are not now, nor do I anticipate we shall ever be, friends in the most flippant definition of the word. We don't get along.
On Monday I had a surgery to reconstruct some ligaments I tore about four years ago in my right ankle. We were at a friend's house and I stepped off of his front patio the wrong way. A loud "pop" came from my right ankle, said ankle quickly swelling to the size of a baseball, and down I went. At the hospital ER, after x-ray's and an examination, it wasn't broken, thank God. I was handed an ace-wrap, given some mild pain-killing drugs, and sent on my happy way.
In the ensuing months and years, however, after repeatedly spraining that same ankle over and over and over, it was clear there was a problem. Finally, this past Monday, we fixed that problem with a procedure called a "modified Brostöm". The surgeon went in, shaved some bone, and reattached the ligaments that I had ripped apart as well as did some tendon modification, all of this placing my ankle back in the right position and giving it renewed strength.
Now, armed with Tylenol 3 and a cast, I sit here on the couch and share my challenge with you, dear reader. I suppose misery really does love company and you (lucky!) are that company. My lovely wife is pampering me. I am reminded daily how I married up when we wed. The kids are understanding and supportive. And I have to stay on this couch with absolutely no pressure on my foot or ankle for at least three weeks. Full healing should come in 9-12 weeks.
At the risk of sounding cliché, this entire ongoing experience reminds me of some pretty profound spiritual truths. In our current Western culture of Microwave Miracles and McReligion, we have often been taught that, when encountered with a challenge, we can simply call on God and He will instantly fix everything and, hence, we should walk through life with ease and victory.
The Bible, however, shows us a different way. It's not that God can't "instantly" fix us or our problems. He can and sometimes does. Like so many other things in our lives, though, He often wants us to go through a process, a time, however prolonged it may be, of growth, pain, challenge and trial, until final victory is achieved. This process may take a few hours or a few years, it's really dependent on Him. We can be assured, however, regardless of the pain involved, that the journey of pain is for our benefit and for our healing, for God really does love us.
It's time for me to take more Tylenol 3.
Ow.
I'll keep you posted.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
The Day of Atonement
Unbelievably, it's Yom Kippur again. It seems like merely a few days ago that we were observing this Holy Day at Beth Emanuel in Philadelphia. We had worship, discussion, prayers, and an in-depth Bible study about the implications of this time of year. We also had live goats as part of the teachings! Afterwards we marked the end of the day with the blowing of the trumpet and a festive break-the-fast meal at Old Country Buffet.
This year is a bit different for us. We are observing this day amongst ourselves as a family, resting on this double shabbat, doing a Bible study, and remembering that Y'shua (Jesus) is our High Priest (Cohen haGadol in Hebrew) and has covered our sin through His precious blood. It's hard to be somber on a day when we are reminded of God's grace, forgiveness, and goodness!
My three boys went exploring today before Bible study. As you can see from the picture, they had fun in a synagogue whose Designer and Creator reminded us of His mercy and forgiveness, eternal themes associated with this day.
May the Lord bless and minister to you today, dear reader, and remind you of your need for Him. Like everything else God does, Yom Kippur is a memorial of His love.
He loves you.
I'll keep you posted.
This year is a bit different for us. We are observing this day amongst ourselves as a family, resting on this double shabbat, doing a Bible study, and remembering that Y'shua (Jesus) is our High Priest (Cohen haGadol in Hebrew) and has covered our sin through His precious blood. It's hard to be somber on a day when we are reminded of God's grace, forgiveness, and goodness!
My three boys went exploring today before Bible study. As you can see from the picture, they had fun in a synagogue whose Designer and Creator reminded us of His mercy and forgiveness, eternal themes associated with this day.
May the Lord bless and minister to you today, dear reader, and remind you of your need for Him. Like everything else God does, Yom Kippur is a memorial of His love.
He loves you.
I'll keep you posted.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Hannah Update . . .
Yesterday Hannah had her first pediatric neurology appointment here preceded by an EEG. The results were a bit disappointing. The surgery she had a few months ago did not completely relieve her epilepsy. In addition we learned on Monday that parts of her brain are "slowing" and hindering her ability to learn and retain information. There is no cure for this "slowing". The plan is to have her remain on her medicine and "wait and see" until at least a year has passed from her procedure. Next summer she will be reevaluated and we will go from there.
We continue to appreciate your prayers for Hannah and all of us as we walk this path!
I'll keep you posted.
We continue to appreciate your prayers for Hannah and all of us as we walk this path!
I'll keep you posted.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
The Lemonade Lesson
It's morning outside, one of those gray mornings with low clouds and the soothing drizzle of rain against the windows. I love these kind of days, mornings that yield a gentle light and hushed world. Autumn and Spring are often full of them. I find them profoundly relaxing.
I had an interesting experience last night. I was invited to an open house sponsored by a local medical school. Vickie and I went. We felt a little awkward as we hovered around the tea and lemonade, watching people who obviously knew each other chat happily about who-knows-what. The room was filled with medical students in various years of their studies and alumni from the sponsoring university. There were also medical school instructors and admissions staff wandering the room. Two things struck me as I sipped my lemonade: first, I was thrilled to death to be there. second, I was filled with a sense of purpose. "I can do this." I kept thinking to myself as Vickie (my wife) and I found some chairs along the wall. "With God's help, I can do this."
My whole life, doctors have had a kind of aura about them, some sort of "glow" that made them seem separate, somehow, from the rest of humanity. While I was in the military I was taught to step out of their way when they came down the hall, a sort of subservient gesture reminding me of their cultural stature. Last night, though, I began to realize that these normal-looking folks swarming around me were simply that: regular people who, for various reasons, have chosen to commit themselves to lives of service. Some in that place were well-dressed. Others wore shorts and sweat-shirts. Some chatted quickly to a small group, others laughed easily and seemed that they would be as comfortable in a park as in a room surrounded by eggheads.
Isn't it interesting the way we allow our perceptions to form judgements about other people before we have met them? I remember Y'shua (Jesus) warning us not to judge others. Yet, somehow, we manage to do just that. Last night I was reminded to again see people, regardless of their education or social standing, as simply people, all equal, all precious in God's sight and made in His image.
I'll keep you posted.
I had an interesting experience last night. I was invited to an open house sponsored by a local medical school. Vickie and I went. We felt a little awkward as we hovered around the tea and lemonade, watching people who obviously knew each other chat happily about who-knows-what. The room was filled with medical students in various years of their studies and alumni from the sponsoring university. There were also medical school instructors and admissions staff wandering the room. Two things struck me as I sipped my lemonade: first, I was thrilled to death to be there. second, I was filled with a sense of purpose. "I can do this." I kept thinking to myself as Vickie (my wife) and I found some chairs along the wall. "With God's help, I can do this."
My whole life, doctors have had a kind of aura about them, some sort of "glow" that made them seem separate, somehow, from the rest of humanity. While I was in the military I was taught to step out of their way when they came down the hall, a sort of subservient gesture reminding me of their cultural stature. Last night, though, I began to realize that these normal-looking folks swarming around me were simply that: regular people who, for various reasons, have chosen to commit themselves to lives of service. Some in that place were well-dressed. Others wore shorts and sweat-shirts. Some chatted quickly to a small group, others laughed easily and seemed that they would be as comfortable in a park as in a room surrounded by eggheads.
Isn't it interesting the way we allow our perceptions to form judgements about other people before we have met them? I remember Y'shua (Jesus) warning us not to judge others. Yet, somehow, we manage to do just that. Last night I was reminded to again see people, regardless of their education or social standing, as simply people, all equal, all precious in God's sight and made in His image.
I'll keep you posted.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
The Family of Believers . . .
It's Saturday evening. Shabbat comes to a close as the sun sets. We spent most of the day at the synagogue. While it's always a blessing to fellowship with other believers, my visit there was tinged with a hint of sadness. I do miss the times of fellowship in Philadelphia. We were only there for 3 1/2 years, a relatively short time. But, during that time, we met some good people and certainly were blessed by God's Presence.
Change is usually never easy. I am grateful for the godly brothers and sisters we met this morning. I am grateful, too, for those we left behind on the East Coast. May God bring us all back together in the world to come!
I'll keep you posted.
Change is usually never easy. I am grateful for the godly brothers and sisters we met this morning. I am grateful, too, for those we left behind on the East Coast. May God bring us all back together in the world to come!
I'll keep you posted.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
God is good
I went outside to pray this morning. Doing so is a new luxury to which I can become easily accustomed. Unlike Philadelphia where our "backyard" consisted of a large parking lot and thin strip of grass our backyard here is an actual yard: a gently sloping hill covered with grass, bushes, and tall evergreen trees. I stood out there and closed my eyes. It's a veritable paradise. The morning air had just a nip of chill in it, enough to remind me that summer was fading and is autumn on its way. The scent of morning dew and evergreen greeted me as I slowly walked among the trees, pine needles crunching softly beneath my feet. What a perfect place to talk to God and a perfect place in which to hear Him talk back. I returned to the house invigorated, challenged, and encouraged. I'm beginning to believe that nature can preach a more powerful and convincing sermon concerning God's goodness and love than can any golden-tongued preacher.
God has been good to us. My lovely wife celebrated another birthday yesterday. We have finally been approved for food stamps (no easy task in Oklahoma my experience has shown me), and the kids have resumed school in earnest. Of course there are still challenges to face, indeed seemingly more with each passing day: Vickie is still in need of a job, I learned yesterday that an old foot injury of mine will require corrective surgery, and finances as always are tight. But you know, in spite of all of this, God has continued to show His faithfulness. Sometimes He demonstrates this to us directly. Other times He does so through the kindness of family and friends. Either way, I am reminded of the Biblical verse in the first chapter of James that tells us that God is the source of all good things.
He truly is.
I'll keep you posted.
God has been good to us. My lovely wife celebrated another birthday yesterday. We have finally been approved for food stamps (no easy task in Oklahoma my experience has shown me), and the kids have resumed school in earnest. Of course there are still challenges to face, indeed seemingly more with each passing day: Vickie is still in need of a job, I learned yesterday that an old foot injury of mine will require corrective surgery, and finances as always are tight. But you know, in spite of all of this, God has continued to show His faithfulness. Sometimes He demonstrates this to us directly. Other times He does so through the kindness of family and friends. Either way, I am reminded of the Biblical verse in the first chapter of James that tells us that God is the source of all good things.
He truly is.
I'll keep you posted.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Watts Happening
I almost died the other day.
I was installing the dryer into the house a few days ago. We had gotten a new electric plug for it. You know the kind: big heavy cord covered with thick rubber with that obnoxiously large connecter at the end baring three metal prongs like some primordial snake. On the other end were three corresponding metal clips which I had to screw into the back of the dryer. It suddenly occurred to me that I wasn't sure if the plug end was the right type. Without thinking (which is always dangerous) I quickly slipped the plug into the wall to see if it would fit.
Now, before I go on, let me say that any smart, experienced handy-man would have made sure that they turned off the electricity to the dryer outlet before attempting any work on it. Logic and common sense dictate such an action. Sadly, I was apparently in short supply of both that night.
The plug slipped into the outlet. The metal prongs at the other end of the cord were touching each other and right next to my hand. Before I knew what happened, an incredible bolt of electricity, white-hot, burst from the end of the cord. I jumped four feet in the air. My wife, who was watching with interest, cried out, "Troy Fuller! Are you alright?" Okay, my wife hasn't called me 'Troy Fuller' since, well, she's actually never called me by my full name. I knew I was in trouble when she yelled that. The kids tumbled downstairs from their bedrooms. "What was that?" they cried. "We saw lightening!" It was a true miracle that I wasn't electrocuted especially considering the powerful voltage that flows into dryers.
I'm no handyman but necessity is the mother of invention or, in this case, life-risking handy-man work. Needless to say, I will be retiring my screwdrivers and drills pretty soon and trading them in for scalpels and textbooks.
May that day come quickly in and our time!
I'll keep you posted.
I was installing the dryer into the house a few days ago. We had gotten a new electric plug for it. You know the kind: big heavy cord covered with thick rubber with that obnoxiously large connecter at the end baring three metal prongs like some primordial snake. On the other end were three corresponding metal clips which I had to screw into the back of the dryer. It suddenly occurred to me that I wasn't sure if the plug end was the right type. Without thinking (which is always dangerous) I quickly slipped the plug into the wall to see if it would fit.
Now, before I go on, let me say that any smart, experienced handy-man would have made sure that they turned off the electricity to the dryer outlet before attempting any work on it. Logic and common sense dictate such an action. Sadly, I was apparently in short supply of both that night.
The plug slipped into the outlet. The metal prongs at the other end of the cord were touching each other and right next to my hand. Before I knew what happened, an incredible bolt of electricity, white-hot, burst from the end of the cord. I jumped four feet in the air. My wife, who was watching with interest, cried out, "Troy Fuller! Are you alright?" Okay, my wife hasn't called me 'Troy Fuller' since, well, she's actually never called me by my full name. I knew I was in trouble when she yelled that. The kids tumbled downstairs from their bedrooms. "What was that?" they cried. "We saw lightening!" It was a true miracle that I wasn't electrocuted especially considering the powerful voltage that flows into dryers.
I'm no handyman but necessity is the mother of invention or, in this case, life-risking handy-man work. Needless to say, I will be retiring my screwdrivers and drills pretty soon and trading them in for scalpels and textbooks.
May that day come quickly in and our time!
I'll keep you posted.
Monday, August 22, 2011
Food Stamp Saga
It's Monday. As I type this I am sitting in a chair in the corner of the living room, the chair next to a set of large windows over-looking the backyard. This place is such a change from the life we knew in Philadelphia. Since we have been here he haven't once had a single police car, sirens roaring, scream past the house. In Philly we had become accustomed to busyness and crowds, cars loudly passing by and sirens at all times of the night. Here the afternoons are filled with children playing on their scooters in the street and the evenings are stone silent. I had forgotten that life could be like this.
I had an interesting experience last week. I spent the better part of a day standing in line and later sitting in the waiting room of the local social service food stamp office. This was the first time in my life I'd ever had to be in such a place petitioning for help. It was humbling, to say the least. I entered the austere government building, not quite sure what to expect. I stood in line with other people, waiting patiently as the slightly bored-looking workers behind the thick glass up front shuffled through what appeared to be reams and reams of forms. Finally it was my turn.
"I'm here to find out about food stamps!" What else could I say? Do they simply hand them too you? Did I need to offer a pint of blood? I had no clue.
The disinterested government worker in front of me pointed to the rear of the room. "You need to fill out the form and get back in line. Next!"
So it began. I left my precious spot in the queue and trudged to the rear of the waiting room, took the form, and sat down in one of the uncomfortable vinyl chairs. It took me about thirty minutes to fill out the twelve sheets (front and back) of requested data. Who lived with me? How much did I make? What were my expenses? I stood and obediently took my place at the back of the line which, miraculously, had diminished somewhat by this time. I waited again. To my right a baby was crying. There was the impatient sound of children as a young mother behind me struggled through the form I had just completed. An elderly couple to my left sat quietly in some chairs against the wall. They knew what to expect. Finally it was my turn again. The all-powerful Man Behind the Glass took my form, looked through it, stamped a few pages, then asked me to sit down and wait. Back to the uncomfortable chairs. I waited, and waited, and waited, and watched some TV, and waited, and waited, and read a bit, and waited, and looked around at the other folks. A young father to my left was trying to console an infant. And I waited. Most people avoided eye contact. At last I heard my name called. "Troy Fuller?" I stood.
"We got your form," the young lady who greeted me said. "You'll be receiving a letter in the mail with your appointment date in about 4-6 days."
And that was it. That was it? After so patiently waiting for hours and standing in line and enduring the uncomfortably intrusive forms, that was it? The young woman disappeared down the hall and I was left standing in the middle of the waiting room. What could I do? I took my hat (yes, I wear a hat in public. I know that fashion fell out of popularity about 60 years ago. I think it should be brought back) and I left the building. So ended the beginning of my experience with government social help.
I did finally get that promised letter. I have a meeting set up with a social counselor this coming Friday. It should be interesting.
I'll keep you posted.
I had an interesting experience last week. I spent the better part of a day standing in line and later sitting in the waiting room of the local social service food stamp office. This was the first time in my life I'd ever had to be in such a place petitioning for help. It was humbling, to say the least. I entered the austere government building, not quite sure what to expect. I stood in line with other people, waiting patiently as the slightly bored-looking workers behind the thick glass up front shuffled through what appeared to be reams and reams of forms. Finally it was my turn.
"I'm here to find out about food stamps!" What else could I say? Do they simply hand them too you? Did I need to offer a pint of blood? I had no clue.
The disinterested government worker in front of me pointed to the rear of the room. "You need to fill out the form and get back in line. Next!"
So it began. I left my precious spot in the queue and trudged to the rear of the waiting room, took the form, and sat down in one of the uncomfortable vinyl chairs. It took me about thirty minutes to fill out the twelve sheets (front and back) of requested data. Who lived with me? How much did I make? What were my expenses? I stood and obediently took my place at the back of the line which, miraculously, had diminished somewhat by this time. I waited again. To my right a baby was crying. There was the impatient sound of children as a young mother behind me struggled through the form I had just completed. An elderly couple to my left sat quietly in some chairs against the wall. They knew what to expect. Finally it was my turn again. The all-powerful Man Behind the Glass took my form, looked through it, stamped a few pages, then asked me to sit down and wait. Back to the uncomfortable chairs. I waited, and waited, and waited, and watched some TV, and waited, and waited, and read a bit, and waited, and looked around at the other folks. A young father to my left was trying to console an infant. And I waited. Most people avoided eye contact. At last I heard my name called. "Troy Fuller?" I stood.
"We got your form," the young lady who greeted me said. "You'll be receiving a letter in the mail with your appointment date in about 4-6 days."
And that was it. That was it? After so patiently waiting for hours and standing in line and enduring the uncomfortably intrusive forms, that was it? The young woman disappeared down the hall and I was left standing in the middle of the waiting room. What could I do? I took my hat (yes, I wear a hat in public. I know that fashion fell out of popularity about 60 years ago. I think it should be brought back) and I left the building. So ended the beginning of my experience with government social help.
I did finally get that promised letter. I have a meeting set up with a social counselor this coming Friday. It should be interesting.
I'll keep you posted.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,
We have been in Oklahoma City for a week. Where can I begin? So much has happened.
As many of you may recall, my daughter underwent brain surgery a couple of months ago in an effort to relieve her of ever-increasingly disruptive epilepsy. For seven weeks after her surgery she was seizure free. Every day that she lived seizure-free was a blessing. This past Tuesday we were getting ready for supper when my wife stopped me and told me to look at Hannah. Sure enough, despite our best efforts and greatest hopes, she was having a seizure. It was brief, but it was clear. We were devastated. Hannah was depressed. For seven years we have struggled with this through multiple anti-seizure medications and two surgeries. Now, after everything, she is still seizing. Of course we called her physicians in Philadelphia. They were concerned and gave me the name of a local epilepsy specialist. We appreciate prayers as we continue to bring this beast of epilepsy under control.
Despite this setback, God has reminded us of His faithfulness and ever-present reality. Today we were at the end of our rope. Vickie had a job interview this morning. She did well, but failed to land a job. We still needed a place to live. We have been living at a local hotel and our finances are drying up. By the time this afternoon rolled around, we were all pretty depressed and feeling defeated. What could we do? Where could we go? Where was God when we needed Him most? Within two hours of this crisis, God granted us a place to live with a rent that we could afford. As I type this, we have the keys to our humble duplex. It's not a palace, but it is a true miracle and we are incredibly overjoyed by God's miraculous provision. Even when our hope wavered, He remained faithful. God came through for us when it seemed there was no future.
Challenges remain: Vickie still has no job. Hannah struggles with her epilepsy. Finances are incredibly tight. I start college shortly. We are learning, though, that God is a God of provision, even when it seem impossible.
I'll keep you posted.
As many of you may recall, my daughter underwent brain surgery a couple of months ago in an effort to relieve her of ever-increasingly disruptive epilepsy. For seven weeks after her surgery she was seizure free. Every day that she lived seizure-free was a blessing. This past Tuesday we were getting ready for supper when my wife stopped me and told me to look at Hannah. Sure enough, despite our best efforts and greatest hopes, she was having a seizure. It was brief, but it was clear. We were devastated. Hannah was depressed. For seven years we have struggled with this through multiple anti-seizure medications and two surgeries. Now, after everything, she is still seizing. Of course we called her physicians in Philadelphia. They were concerned and gave me the name of a local epilepsy specialist. We appreciate prayers as we continue to bring this beast of epilepsy under control.
Despite this setback, God has reminded us of His faithfulness and ever-present reality. Today we were at the end of our rope. Vickie had a job interview this morning. She did well, but failed to land a job. We still needed a place to live. We have been living at a local hotel and our finances are drying up. By the time this afternoon rolled around, we were all pretty depressed and feeling defeated. What could we do? Where could we go? Where was God when we needed Him most? Within two hours of this crisis, God granted us a place to live with a rent that we could afford. As I type this, we have the keys to our humble duplex. It's not a palace, but it is a true miracle and we are incredibly overjoyed by God's miraculous provision. Even when our hope wavered, He remained faithful. God came through for us when it seemed there was no future.
Challenges remain: Vickie still has no job. Hannah struggles with her epilepsy. Finances are incredibly tight. I start college shortly. We are learning, though, that God is a God of provision, even when it seem impossible.
I'll keep you posted.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Where the wind comes sweeping down the plain . . . .
Well, we're here: Oklahoma, the wide-open, wind-swept American mid-west. Our original plan was to go to Kansas. That didn't work out. God opened a window in Oklahoma so here we are. Our introduction to the state has been mixed. We spent yesterday at Rosh Pinah Messianic Synagogue, a wonderful congregation led by Messianic Rabbi Michael Weygant, a godly man. The worship was wonderful and the message convicting. A very positive experience. We will be going back.
Then, after service, we drove north to a small town to look at a few houses. The town was peaceful, the homes definite fixer-uppers, and the price not so bad. On the way back to the hotel we noticed smoke billowing over the road. We spent the next three hours sitting on the interstate with hundreds of other stranded drivers as a terrible grass fire raged across the land, burning over 1000 acres. Huge clouds of pungent smoke blocked the sky as we sat there, seeing trees and even homes burn to the ground. Emergency vehicles raced past us as we sat helpless on the road. It was a pretty surreal experience.
When we finally started moving again an enormous thunderstorm drifted over the city, bringing some much needed relief from the 110 degree heat. We got back to the hotel by 10:00 pm.
We are really in a place of faith right now. Money is running out. As of yet we have no job and no place to live. We know that the Lord has moved us forward so we are eager to see what He will do. He has never failed us. I don't expect Him to do so now.
I will keep you posted.
Then, after service, we drove north to a small town to look at a few houses. The town was peaceful, the homes definite fixer-uppers, and the price not so bad. On the way back to the hotel we noticed smoke billowing over the road. We spent the next three hours sitting on the interstate with hundreds of other stranded drivers as a terrible grass fire raged across the land, burning over 1000 acres. Huge clouds of pungent smoke blocked the sky as we sat there, seeing trees and even homes burn to the ground. Emergency vehicles raced past us as we sat helpless on the road. It was a pretty surreal experience.
When we finally started moving again an enormous thunderstorm drifted over the city, bringing some much needed relief from the 110 degree heat. We got back to the hotel by 10:00 pm.
We are really in a place of faith right now. Money is running out. As of yet we have no job and no place to live. We know that the Lord has moved us forward so we are eager to see what He will do. He has never failed us. I don't expect Him to do so now.
I will keep you posted.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Go West Young Man . . . .
I'm writing this from the hotel in St. Louis, MO. Outside of our window we can see a large parking lot and just across the road the St. Louis International Airport. We are headed West. In the past two days we have traversed five states and over a thousand miles. Today it's three states and our final destination.
Vickie is driving the minivan, packed with suitcases, four kids, and a cat. I'm driving the 22 foot moving van, a lugging behemoth painted an obnoxious yellow that goes from 0 to 60 in about twenty minutes. All of our earthly possessions are in this truck, mostly boxes of clothes, books, and toys and some second-hand furniture we bought at a Philadelphia thrift store. It's the kind of truck that slows to 35 miles an hour going up hill and needs to be controlled from exceeding 70 when going downhill. Quite an adventure to drive!
We have a plan for the future, but the details of it are still a little foggy. We have no place to live and job prospects, although hopeful, are uncertain at best. We know in our hearts that we are walking under God's direction. How exactly He is going to provide, however, remains yet to be seen. This has truly become a walk of faith.
I better go. The kids are up and we need to pack the vehicles for today's journey. I'll keep you posted!
Vickie is driving the minivan, packed with suitcases, four kids, and a cat. I'm driving the 22 foot moving van, a lugging behemoth painted an obnoxious yellow that goes from 0 to 60 in about twenty minutes. All of our earthly possessions are in this truck, mostly boxes of clothes, books, and toys and some second-hand furniture we bought at a Philadelphia thrift store. It's the kind of truck that slows to 35 miles an hour going up hill and needs to be controlled from exceeding 70 when going downhill. Quite an adventure to drive!
We have a plan for the future, but the details of it are still a little foggy. We have no place to live and job prospects, although hopeful, are uncertain at best. We know in our hearts that we are walking under God's direction. How exactly He is going to provide, however, remains yet to be seen. This has truly become a walk of faith.
I better go. The kids are up and we need to pack the vehicles for today's journey. I'll keep you posted!
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Work, work, work . . .
Busyness is the word of the day.
Vickie and the kids return from her mom's this afternoon and not a moment too soon. During the past week I spent four days in North Carolina speaking at a church followed by three days of absence from my family while they are in Maryland. I miss them.
So, to keep my self busy and out of trouble I have spent the last few days cleaning and packing, packing and cleaning, and oh, did I mention cleaning? Our goal is to leave the Residence cleaner and better than we found it. The jury is still out as to whether or not that will happen.
Hannah, thank God, is doing amazingly well. August 1st she will be able to get her head wet (swimming, showering, and the like) a date to which she is looking forward with great anticipation. The three boys are doing well also, although the stress of upcoming move is having its toll on everyone. Aaron, the young man who moved in with us to attend college, has been a huge help watching the kids and cleaning while we pack. Finally Vickie is amazing as always, packing and cleaning with a typical ferocity learned after many years of military living. After we get settled I hope to take everyone out for a relaxing day. Maybe we'll go see a movie . . .
It has come to my attention recently that there is a person in NJ who is again attacking my family and myself. Two years ago this person virulently spoke evil things against us, making broad accusations. All of the accusations were proven false. This did not stop the evil speaking, however. I am amazed, after two years of relative silence, that she would again come forward so aggressively, filled with rage. I am amazed even more that people are still listening to her tired judgments. Someone once said that the way we conduct ourselves when attacked reveals who we really are, and I believe this to be true. Every attack is really an opportunity for us to tune our selves, improve ourselves, and show our love for God and others in new ways. Person, if you're reading this, I want you to know that we are praying for you and your family. We pray that God's ministry, mercy, and peace will envelop you.
Meanwhile, we have ten days left in Philadelphia before we head West. Despite the challenges we currently face, we are all looking forward to the move. We can't help but believe that God has wonderful things in store for us. Indeed, during these trying times, He alone has remained our One True Hope.
Thank you for reading. I'll keep you posted.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
That Old Office . . .
It's 11:15 pm. As I write this I am sitting at my desk in the office of the synagogue. The air conditioning is running, it's a warm and humid night. Only half of the room is lit, leaving the far end of my office shrouded in shadow. I can hear the ticking of my mantel clock sitting against the far wall. Save that and the hum of the conditioner, all is quiet.
My office. In 45 minutes this room, where I have spent 3 1/2 years of my life studying, praying, interceding, and counseling, this place where I met with elders and the elderly, where I encouraged and rebuked, and where often God encouraged and rebuked me, this tiny room with the cheap wood paneling floor and windows that don't quite fit right, this sanctuary where my wife and children spent many hours and hundreds of dollars trying to get it renovated, this little place to which I've grown so fond, will pass from me to another man, a good man, a man in many ways better than myself for, at midnight tonight, I will no longer be the rabbi of Beth Emanuel Messianic Synagogue in Philadelphia Pennsylvania.
I confess it's hard to leave. My family and I have met so many people here, had so many experiences, and made so many decisions, some good, some less so. God has provided for our needs time and time again. I'm an old romantic at heart I suppose and my mind even now floods with memories. My wife, however, is ready to move on. Honestly, I am too. Part of me, though, will always be with this congregation praying and hoping for God's perfect will.
I heard a couple of days ago that there is a rumor bouncing around out there that I had been fired from my position here. I could barely repress a smile when I was told this. My wife and I decided, after much prayer and thought, that this group of people could be best served by a family who could take them "to the next level" so to speak. We knew that our time here was done a couple of months ago. I learned long ago not to chase after rumors and try and put out the inevitable fires of distaste that they spark. I have neither the time nor the energy for such an effort. Instead, Vickie and I believe that Truth can stand on it's own. We also believe that if anyone wants to have the Truth clarified they will have the maturity to come to us and ask us.
So I will be unemployed in about 34 minutes. What now? With Hannah recovering from her surgery and with so many moving boxes filling our living room the future looks bright, if not a little scary as all change can be disconcerting. We have plans for the future but are clearly aware that God can change these in the blink of an eye. So we set our faces forward with hope and faith, believing that God has good things in store for both us and this congregation even though our roads at this point diverge.
I know that the future will not necessarily be easy. I've learned, though, that as believers in Y'shua (Jesus) we will NEVER walk it alone.
My office. In 45 minutes this room, where I have spent 3 1/2 years of my life studying, praying, interceding, and counseling, this place where I met with elders and the elderly, where I encouraged and rebuked, and where often God encouraged and rebuked me, this tiny room with the cheap wood paneling floor and windows that don't quite fit right, this sanctuary where my wife and children spent many hours and hundreds of dollars trying to get it renovated, this little place to which I've grown so fond, will pass from me to another man, a good man, a man in many ways better than myself for, at midnight tonight, I will no longer be the rabbi of Beth Emanuel Messianic Synagogue in Philadelphia Pennsylvania.
I confess it's hard to leave. My family and I have met so many people here, had so many experiences, and made so many decisions, some good, some less so. God has provided for our needs time and time again. I'm an old romantic at heart I suppose and my mind even now floods with memories. My wife, however, is ready to move on. Honestly, I am too. Part of me, though, will always be with this congregation praying and hoping for God's perfect will.
I heard a couple of days ago that there is a rumor bouncing around out there that I had been fired from my position here. I could barely repress a smile when I was told this. My wife and I decided, after much prayer and thought, that this group of people could be best served by a family who could take them "to the next level" so to speak. We knew that our time here was done a couple of months ago. I learned long ago not to chase after rumors and try and put out the inevitable fires of distaste that they spark. I have neither the time nor the energy for such an effort. Instead, Vickie and I believe that Truth can stand on it's own. We also believe that if anyone wants to have the Truth clarified they will have the maturity to come to us and ask us.
So I will be unemployed in about 34 minutes. What now? With Hannah recovering from her surgery and with so many moving boxes filling our living room the future looks bright, if not a little scary as all change can be disconcerting. We have plans for the future but are clearly aware that God can change these in the blink of an eye. So we set our faces forward with hope and faith, believing that God has good things in store for both us and this congregation even though our roads at this point diverge.
I know that the future will not necessarily be easy. I've learned, though, that as believers in Y'shua (Jesus) we will NEVER walk it alone.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Two Week Mark . . .
Today marks two weeks since Hannah had her second surgery and, thanks to God, she has been entirely seizure free. She is spunky and emotional, certainly not uncommon in a thirteen year old, and we continue to take every day for what it is: a gift from God.
Vickie, meanwhile, has been a bit under the weather. We found out today after an appointment with our doctor that she somehow injured a rib in her lower right side. Thank God it doesn't seem to be broken but it is injured enough to have awaken her (and me) last night. Some simple medications and behavior modification should bring healing in about a month.
Tonight I taught my last Bible study at Beth Emanuel Messianic Synagogue. It was bittersweet closing up our discussion about the Last Days. We have been meeting on Tuesday nights and going through the Scriptures for several months now. No one really wanted to leave. We went over about an hour and finally had to say goodbye. There was such an atmosphere of finality as I closed the study in prayer and watched the people go. Never again will I teach a Bible study at this congregation as their rabbi. This coming Friday will be our last service here. It will be hard to say goodbye to all of the great folks we've met.
It's getting late. I'll let you go for now. Please keep up the prayers for Hannah and her total recovery. Thank you!
Vickie, meanwhile, has been a bit under the weather. We found out today after an appointment with our doctor that she somehow injured a rib in her lower right side. Thank God it doesn't seem to be broken but it is injured enough to have awaken her (and me) last night. Some simple medications and behavior modification should bring healing in about a month.
Tonight I taught my last Bible study at Beth Emanuel Messianic Synagogue. It was bittersweet closing up our discussion about the Last Days. We have been meeting on Tuesday nights and going through the Scriptures for several months now. No one really wanted to leave. We went over about an hour and finally had to say goodbye. There was such an atmosphere of finality as I closed the study in prayer and watched the people go. Never again will I teach a Bible study at this congregation as their rabbi. This coming Friday will be our last service here. It will be hard to say goodbye to all of the great folks we've met.
It's getting late. I'll let you go for now. Please keep up the prayers for Hannah and her total recovery. Thank you!
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Breakfast with Hannah
This morning dawned gray and wet, the moist ground testifying to last nights summer rain. Sunday is usually our lazy family day and my only day off of work. As I write this, the family is settling around the table for a late, lazy-day breakfast. Hannah has been home for over a week now and is fully back to being herself, and then some! Already this morning she has had two arguments with her little brothers, a good sign despite the need for mom and dad to intervene. Her scars are pretty much hidden by her hair, which is looking pretty sad considering she can't fully wash it yet.
Hannah had a follow-up appointment with her neurosurgeon a couple of days ago. He was very pleased with her progress and happy to see her scars healing so well. He cautioned her not to run or jump, no easy order for an energetic thirteen year old. Hannah has tylenol for transient pain and he is keeping her on her full dose of anti-seizure medication. We have another follow-up in eleven days.
For the first time in two weeks Hannah was able to attend synagogue services this past weekend. Although she was received warmly she had a hard time. It was difficult for her to watch the dancers twirl around with such enthusiasm while she could not participate. She grabbed my arm and cried quietly until they finished. Despite her amazing progress the reality of time involved in a full recovery can be painful.
I'll let you go now. It's time to eat and referee the kids. I'll keep you posted.
Hannah had a follow-up appointment with her neurosurgeon a couple of days ago. He was very pleased with her progress and happy to see her scars healing so well. He cautioned her not to run or jump, no easy order for an energetic thirteen year old. Hannah has tylenol for transient pain and he is keeping her on her full dose of anti-seizure medication. We have another follow-up in eleven days.
For the first time in two weeks Hannah was able to attend synagogue services this past weekend. Although she was received warmly she had a hard time. It was difficult for her to watch the dancers twirl around with such enthusiasm while she could not participate. She grabbed my arm and cried quietly until they finished. Despite her amazing progress the reality of time involved in a full recovery can be painful.
I'll let you go now. It's time to eat and referee the kids. I'll keep you posted.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Hannah Update
Hannah has been home for a few days now. The doctors are amazed at the speed of her recovery. She is bouncing around, full of life and vigor. She is picking on her little brothers again (always a good sign) and rolling her eyes in disdain at pretty much anything I say (not a good sign but normal, I'm told, for a 13 year old). The scars are large and ugly and still a bit painful to the touch. She has taken to wearing hats when in public until the affected areas are covered with a new crop of hair. Despite instructions to "take it easy" for a week or so, she is running and jumping, or trying too. Her mom and I have done our best to clamp down on that. Last night she was playing in the house, ran around a corner in the hallway, and ran smack into a door, sending her spiraling to the floor. Vickie and I freaked. What if she had hit her head? Thank God the worst of it was a mildly bruised elbow.
You know, it's interesting, looking back on all of this. Hannah has had it pretty rough for her short life and had to endure more than most, though I know that there are others who have suffered and are suffering far greater. Despite all of her challenges, though, God has been there, not necessarily to remove the challenge, but very much present to help her (and us) through the challenge. Things could be so much worse. I guess the very fact that they are not is proof that God is good.
Today marks the eighth day that Hannah has been seizure free. Her doctors, fine men and women all, remind us that it may takes years to really be sure that Hannah is free from her epilepsy. Knowing this is true, we rejoice more with each passing day. She hasn't gone eighth straight days without a seizure in a very, very long time. Thank you God! Thanks, too, to Hannah's physicians: Dr. Valencia, Dr. Narayon, and to the army of nurses and techs who encouraged her, nurtured her, and ministered God's healing to her. I remember in particular a young tech named Andrew on whom, it seemed to Vickie and I, Hannah had a bit of a schoolgirl crush.
Hannah has a follow-up appointment with Dr. Narayon this coming Friday.
Thank you for reading and we will keep you posted.
You know, it's interesting, looking back on all of this. Hannah has had it pretty rough for her short life and had to endure more than most, though I know that there are others who have suffered and are suffering far greater. Despite all of her challenges, though, God has been there, not necessarily to remove the challenge, but very much present to help her (and us) through the challenge. Things could be so much worse. I guess the very fact that they are not is proof that God is good.
Today marks the eighth day that Hannah has been seizure free. Her doctors, fine men and women all, remind us that it may takes years to really be sure that Hannah is free from her epilepsy. Knowing this is true, we rejoice more with each passing day. She hasn't gone eighth straight days without a seizure in a very, very long time. Thank you God! Thanks, too, to Hannah's physicians: Dr. Valencia, Dr. Narayon, and to the army of nurses and techs who encouraged her, nurtured her, and ministered God's healing to her. I remember in particular a young tech named Andrew on whom, it seemed to Vickie and I, Hannah had a bit of a schoolgirl crush.
Hannah has a follow-up appointment with Dr. Narayon this coming Friday.
Thank you for reading and we will keep you posted.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Hannah Update
Shabbat shalom!
That's the traditional greeting between Jewish people on the sabbath, today being Saturday and hence the sabbath. It means roughly "rest and peace [to you]".
Hannah is spending her second sabbath in the hospital today. The wound from her most recent surgery is healing well, thank God, but she is still flirting with a low-grade fever, hovering around 99-100. Her prior fever of 103 lasted only one night. Yesterday she was moved to a different room, one step closer to being released. I'm not sure, however, if they will let her go with her fever. We should find out today. We hope bring her home soon. Today marks her 11th day in the hospital.
For those of you praying, thank you! Please continue to do so!
I'll keep you posted.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Hannah Update
It's Thursday night. As I type this I am sitting in my daughter's hospital room watching her sleep. The past couple of days have been rough. The large eight inch scar curling it's way across the left side of her head is healing nicely, although it will ever stand as a reminder of her ordeal. The drainage tube that was in her head after the surgery on Tuesday was removed today, an event that brought not a few tears due to the discomfort. Morphine destroyed the pain but a new enemy has reared it's ugly, if not unexpected, head: Hannah came down with a fever this morning that has only gotten worse as the day has worn on. The risk of infection has always been present. Now we are increasingly concerned. The staff here at Saint Christopher's Hospital for Children are watching her closely. As with everything else, we wait and pray.
What can we do in life when we can't do anything? How do we handle it when what we need to handle is beyond our ability? This whole experience with Hannah's epilepsy and surgery and follow-up is so big, such a large impossibility, that her mother and I find ourselves overwhelmed by the sheer size of both the reality and the "what if's". We have no choice but to lean on Y'shua (Jesus) and remember that Hannah, as all of us, are in His hands of mercy and justice. We pray, we wait, we try to keep the rest of the family going, and we surrender, every day, sometimes every hour of every day, to the Lord. He is bigger than our biggest challenge and stronger than our impossibilities. I know most of you know this but I, for one, am grateful for the reminder.
I'll keep you posted.
What can we do in life when we can't do anything? How do we handle it when what we need to handle is beyond our ability? This whole experience with Hannah's epilepsy and surgery and follow-up is so big, such a large impossibility, that her mother and I find ourselves overwhelmed by the sheer size of both the reality and the "what if's". We have no choice but to lean on Y'shua (Jesus) and remember that Hannah, as all of us, are in His hands of mercy and justice. We pray, we wait, we try to keep the rest of the family going, and we surrender, every day, sometimes every hour of every day, to the Lord. He is bigger than our biggest challenge and stronger than our impossibilities. I know most of you know this but I, for one, am grateful for the reminder.
I'll keep you posted.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Hannah Update
It's Tuesday again. A week ago Hannah finished her first surgery, miraculously coming through with flying colors. This morning she is scheduled for her second surgery. She will have part of her left temporal lobe in her brain removed, the part, we hope, that is responsible for her seizures. If everything goes well, she will be seizure-free for the rest of her life.
I spent last night with her at the hospital. Mom and I have been taking turns, essentially each rotating through every other night, sleeping in those notoriously uncomfortable hospital chairs and subsisting on hospital food, trying to be there for her while balancing time with the boys at home. This is a dance we have done before. I recall the time Hannah was hospitalized for three months in 2004 also because of her epilepsy.
As I write this from that plastic-covered chair Hannah sleeps, any apprehension she might have about this second procedure hidden in the bliss of unconsciousness. IV tubes and heart-monitoring wires snake their way away from her body to machines on the wall reducing her life-signs to bouncing colored lines and persistent electric blips. Her head is still wrapped lightly in gauze to cover the wires from the internal monitoring strips coming out of her brain. These will be removed today in the course of the surgery.
It's interesting to me how self-absorbed health issues can make us. During the past week that Hannah has been here I have focused heavily on her and our family. I have done no synagogue work whatsoever. Thank God for our assistant rabbi who has kept the congregation running during my physical and emotional absence. He's a good man. Meanwhile my immediate family has contracted, if you will. We have moved closer to each other to offer support during this time of need. Even Hannah's little brothers, usually a source of constant irritation to her, have offered their stuffed animals to their big sister. Their sudden kindness and concern for Hannah was a bit unexpected but certainly welcome.
Our larger family, the local Body of Messiah, has also moved toward us with support, meals, and prayers. We are daily humbled by the kindness, shown in so many practical ways, from dear brothers and sisters in the faith. I wish I could somehow repay each person for their generosity but I know that will be impossible.
Most of all God Himself has been good to us during this time. He has so obviously been with us during Hannah's previous procedure, during the ensuing week-long hospital stay, and I know He is present even as I type this, preparing us for today's rigors. I am also reminded that He loves my daughter more than I. He doesn't guarantee that everything will turn out as we hope, but He does promise to be with us through it all.
I'll update you later today after her surgery.
I spent last night with her at the hospital. Mom and I have been taking turns, essentially each rotating through every other night, sleeping in those notoriously uncomfortable hospital chairs and subsisting on hospital food, trying to be there for her while balancing time with the boys at home. This is a dance we have done before. I recall the time Hannah was hospitalized for three months in 2004 also because of her epilepsy.
As I write this from that plastic-covered chair Hannah sleeps, any apprehension she might have about this second procedure hidden in the bliss of unconsciousness. IV tubes and heart-monitoring wires snake their way away from her body to machines on the wall reducing her life-signs to bouncing colored lines and persistent electric blips. Her head is still wrapped lightly in gauze to cover the wires from the internal monitoring strips coming out of her brain. These will be removed today in the course of the surgery.
It's interesting to me how self-absorbed health issues can make us. During the past week that Hannah has been here I have focused heavily on her and our family. I have done no synagogue work whatsoever. Thank God for our assistant rabbi who has kept the congregation running during my physical and emotional absence. He's a good man. Meanwhile my immediate family has contracted, if you will. We have moved closer to each other to offer support during this time of need. Even Hannah's little brothers, usually a source of constant irritation to her, have offered their stuffed animals to their big sister. Their sudden kindness and concern for Hannah was a bit unexpected but certainly welcome.
Our larger family, the local Body of Messiah, has also moved toward us with support, meals, and prayers. We are daily humbled by the kindness, shown in so many practical ways, from dear brothers and sisters in the faith. I wish I could somehow repay each person for their generosity but I know that will be impossible.
Most of all God Himself has been good to us during this time. He has so obviously been with us during Hannah's previous procedure, during the ensuing week-long hospital stay, and I know He is present even as I type this, preparing us for today's rigors. I am also reminded that He loves my daughter more than I. He doesn't guarantee that everything will turn out as we hope, but He does promise to be with us through it all.
I'll update you later today after her surgery.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Hannah Update
Shalom everyone.
Hannah went into surgery on Tuesday, June 14th. We showed up at the hospital at 6:00 am and went through the typical preparations: registration, last-minute tests, and endless questions about allergies and medications. Hannah changed into those famous hospital gowns, the kind that are always a bit drafty in back, and was given some Versed to calm her down. Two hours later she was wheeled into the operating room. Vickie and I said goodbye and, after a healthy dose of laughing gas (and the ensuing burst of giggling that erupted from my daughter), the procedure began. The operating room team called us every hour with updates. "Things are going fine." "She is doing great." "She is stable." Easy for them to say. It's not their daughter.
After six troubling hours Hannah was wheeled into recovery, then moved to CT for a scan, then sent to ICU which has become her home away from home for the next couple of weeks. She has multiple small metal probes wrapped around parts of her brain. These probes should delicately detect the slightest seizure which, in turn, should reveal which parts of her brain to remove during her next surgery, said surgery being about a week or so away.
Words cannot adequately express my thoughts and emotions watching my daughter slumber fitfully after coming out of surgery. Her eyes were heavy. Her head was wrapped in a turban-like bandage covering the broken places in her skull where foreign plastic and metal probes monitored her every brain blip and wave. I wanted to scoop her up like she was two years old again and hold her tightly, promising that dad would make the boo-boo go away. But she's not two years old anymore and this was no simple boo-boo. When did my liebchen become a young lady? And when did the trauma and terror of life interfere with the warm and loving world that her mom and I tried to create for her?
It's not even really about "fairness". Is it "fair" for my princess to suffer as she is right now? Is it "fair" for our family to be going through this during such a time of transition and change at home and work? Is it "fair" for my three sons to feel a bit put-out because big sister is getting all of the attention? As difficult as it is for us to accept sometimes life is rarely, if ever, "fair". We roll with the punches and begin to learn that bad things happen to good people and good things often happen to bad. But, if we are honest, even God isn't really "fair", is He? I mean, really, is it "fair" that Y'shua (Jesus) should suffer and die for our sins? Not really very fair to Y'shua, yet He willingly did it for all of us.
So I have stopped asking questions that often have no answers and instead am learning to accept, with God's grace, the full sphere of human experience, not just the good. I don't know what will happen to my daughter Hannah but I do know this: God, and God alone, is the only unchanging and certain thing in life. Though He slay me yet will I trust in Him (Job 13:15).
I will keep you posted.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
I'm afraid
As I get older I've begun to notice that life rarely comes at us at an even pace, a smooth series of events that we can handle as they march toward us in orderly succession. I've learned instead that life seems to happen in chaotic bursts, sudden explosions of reality that, good or bad, rain upon us like machine gun fire interspersed by brief periods of uneasy peace.
My thirteen year old daughter has suffered from epilepsy for seven years. After truck-loads of medicine and a small army of doctors from multiple disciplines, we have arrived at the truth that her only natural hope is surgery. So this coming Tuesday morning, June 14th, my only daughter is going to the local children's hospital to have both sides of her skull cut open and parts of her brain examined, monitered, then excised.
Now I know that thousands of children and parents have walked down this path before and come out far better for it. I know that I should be grateful that things are not worse than they are. I know that I should be counting my blessings. As a rabbi I am reminded, also, that God is near, that we are not going through this alone, and that everything will eventually work out for His higher good purposes and will. I know all of these things are true.
But I'm still scared. Is that wrong?
I'm scared that things may not go as smoothly as they should. I'm scared she may die, or have a stroke, or become profoundly disabled. I'm scared that the surgery may make her already violent seizures worse. I'm scared that her follow-up care may be compromised because of our impending move to Kansas. I'm scared that the cost her care may spiral rapidly out of control and swallow our family financially.
The current religious climate in Western culture often dictates that we should not be people of fear and, to an extant, that is true. I firmly believe that we should never let fear become either our sole or primary motivation for anything. I'm also learning, though, that fear is a reality with which we all must cope, a companion that, at inadvertent (and usually inconvenient) times crops up and demands our attention. I'm learning that God will always help us deal with fear but He may not always take it away.
I must go now. I'll keep you posted.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Isaiah 58:12
We had our annual synagogue business meeting this past Sunday. Although such meetings tend to be dry by nature, I have to confess that this one seemed to go pretty well, generally speaking. Among other things, we voted to move our Erev Shabbat (Friday evening) service time to 8:00 pm, allowing people more time to get home from work and take care of their families before service begins. We still plan on ending no later than 9:30 pm.
Also at this meeting I introduced the theme I believe God has given us for 2011. This year we are to focus on "repairing the breach and restoring paths to rest in" as found in Isaiah 58:12. What does this mean?
A breach is a hole. Well, it's more than a hole. It's a violation. A breach is an unhealthy, unintended break in the integrity of a wall. There are healthy, intended breaks in walls. We call these doors and windows. But when a break occurs where there should be none, this is trouble. Breaches let in the unwelcome rain and wind. Breaches can let in bugs and pests of all kinds. Thinking of walls that used to surround cities, breaches can even let in the enemy and result in the fall of an entire society.
To restore a breach means to return to the original foundation, the strong, immovable foundation, laid by Sacred Hands. To restore a breach means to build upon this foundation with stones that will be able to endure the offense of the seasons and the assault of the enemy. These stones must be excavated from the earth, chiseled and shaped, and laid in place with much forethought and care. It requires planning, patience, persistence, and people.
Ah, there's the clincher! People! This wall cannot be made by one or two people alone. If it is to be a strong bastion, a fortress that will resist all that will eventually come against it, it will require a coordinated, prayer-saturated, hard-headed, soft-hearted group of men and women and youth who are willing to work together, forgive each other, and roll-up their collective sleeves. This effort, to be successful, will need to be supervised by God, led by His Spirit, and coordinated by His appointed leadership. It will require, from everyone, humility, courage, and LOTS of grace! The task that lay before us is for neither the weak-hearted nor for those who can't quite seem to make a commitment.
The question before us now is: can we do it? Can we pull together and meet this call? I believe so. The deeper question is, do you?
On my next blog I'll talk about what it means to "restore paths to rest in". If you have any questions at all, please feel free to contact me at phillyrabbi@gmail.com. Shalom!
Monday, February 7, 2011
And it's raining, and it's raining . . . .
I've noticed something. Ever since I've started to focus more on prayer and personal brokenness before the Lord something extraordinary, though not quite surprising, has happened:
All hell has broken loose.
I'm not talking about going through a "rough patch" in my life. I'm talking about literally the demonic forces of the devil rising against me.
They say misery loves company so I hope you will forgive me as I indulge in a litany of events that have come against my family and ministry in the past thirty days:
- Pipe busted in the synagogue fellowship hall, ruining walls and carpet
- Pipe busted under the house where we live, spewing sewage and mud into the house
- Our personal laptop computer died, the very computer we use to broadcast ministry via the Internet
- Our refrigerator at home died, requiring costly repairs which drained our personal account
- My daughter has had a significant and dramatic increase in seizure activity. She suffers from epilepsy.
- And there's more which time does not permit me to list here.
Please don't misunderstand me. I am not a superstitious person and I do not look for a demon under every doily. I have, however, noted an interesting pattern of events in my life since I started to draw closer to the Lord.
I believe that the devil is remarkably predictable and, if it weren't so painful, his actions and behavior would be almost laughable. Of course! I should have expected this and, with God's wisdom, prepared for it! Of course the devil will attack when we try to draw closer to God! Of course Satan will try to distract and discourage when we turn our hearts and minds to prayer! Of course the enemy of our souls will try to bring depression and despair when we lift our spirits to heaven! Of course!
Why?
Because there is no greater expression of power for a believer on this earth than prayer. Prayer unleashes God's Spirit. Prayer brings reformation of our hearts and revival to our congregations. Prayer strengthens our spirits and deepens our communion with our Creator. Pray, true prayer, is the single fiercest force we as God's people have against Satan and his angels in this world. This is why the devil resists us with such tenacity for, while we as God's people may be nonchalant and non-committed in prayer, the devil understands the true power of prayer and trembles! This is why he begins to rise against us with all that is in his unholy arsenal, because he's scared!
What should be our response when things in our lives begin to fall apart? Pray! Storm the gates of Heaven with our supplications! Intercede on behalf of God's people and those who do not yet know Him! There is a reason this is called a war, because it is! Fight! Dearly beloved, fight with all you're worth! Don't allow discouragement or cynicism to rob you of prayer! Repent and pray! Lift your head from your discouragement and pray! Mourn and weep before the Lord and pray! Rejoice before the God of Abraham and pray! When the sun shines, pray! When the rain falls, pray! When you seem to get no answer, pray! When God feels a million miles away, pray! Without ceasing, pray (I Thessalonians 5:17) for then and only then will we begin to know a deeper measure of God's power and freedom.
Pray!
All hell has broken loose.
I'm not talking about going through a "rough patch" in my life. I'm talking about literally the demonic forces of the devil rising against me.
They say misery loves company so I hope you will forgive me as I indulge in a litany of events that have come against my family and ministry in the past thirty days:
- Pipe busted in the synagogue fellowship hall, ruining walls and carpet
- Pipe busted under the house where we live, spewing sewage and mud into the house
- Our personal laptop computer died, the very computer we use to broadcast ministry via the Internet
- Our refrigerator at home died, requiring costly repairs which drained our personal account
- My daughter has had a significant and dramatic increase in seizure activity. She suffers from epilepsy.
- And there's more which time does not permit me to list here.
Please don't misunderstand me. I am not a superstitious person and I do not look for a demon under every doily. I have, however, noted an interesting pattern of events in my life since I started to draw closer to the Lord.
I believe that the devil is remarkably predictable and, if it weren't so painful, his actions and behavior would be almost laughable. Of course! I should have expected this and, with God's wisdom, prepared for it! Of course the devil will attack when we try to draw closer to God! Of course Satan will try to distract and discourage when we turn our hearts and minds to prayer! Of course the enemy of our souls will try to bring depression and despair when we lift our spirits to heaven! Of course!
Why?
Because there is no greater expression of power for a believer on this earth than prayer. Prayer unleashes God's Spirit. Prayer brings reformation of our hearts and revival to our congregations. Prayer strengthens our spirits and deepens our communion with our Creator. Pray, true prayer, is the single fiercest force we as God's people have against Satan and his angels in this world. This is why the devil resists us with such tenacity for, while we as God's people may be nonchalant and non-committed in prayer, the devil understands the true power of prayer and trembles! This is why he begins to rise against us with all that is in his unholy arsenal, because he's scared!
What should be our response when things in our lives begin to fall apart? Pray! Storm the gates of Heaven with our supplications! Intercede on behalf of God's people and those who do not yet know Him! There is a reason this is called a war, because it is! Fight! Dearly beloved, fight with all you're worth! Don't allow discouragement or cynicism to rob you of prayer! Repent and pray! Lift your head from your discouragement and pray! Mourn and weep before the Lord and pray! Rejoice before the God of Abraham and pray! When the sun shines, pray! When the rain falls, pray! When you seem to get no answer, pray! When God feels a million miles away, pray! Without ceasing, pray (I Thessalonians 5:17) for then and only then will we begin to know a deeper measure of God's power and freedom.
Pray!
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
When it rains . . . .
A few weeks ago I was doing laundry at home (yes, I help my wife with the laundry. So lives the 21st century man). When the washing machine started draining, a pungent odor began to assail my nose, a combination of wet earth and sewage. A quick inspection revealed this thick stew bubbling up into the bathtub and kitchen sink. Indeed, from that point on, every time we tried to do the laundry, this foul fountain would reappear, filling the house with it's damp stench. After bringing out a plumber we were told that the source of our problem was a busted drainage pipe under the slab foundation of the house. Even as he spoke on and on in complex plumbing jargon that I barely understood, a sense of panic began to rise in me. "This sounds expensive." I thought to myself. My mind began to wander along these lines when I snapped back into reality with his words "$15,000-$30,000".
What?
Please understand that my family and I live in a small residence attached to the synagogue where I serve. I immediately called the synagogue insurance company. "I'm sorry Rabbi Fuller but we don't cover plumbing problems outside of the building which includes things under the foundation." Panic time again.
A few days later I was walking into the synagogue when I was greeted by undulating waves of water gently flowing out of the fellowship room, through the hallway and into the foyer where the sixth great lake was rapidly forming. The culprit ended up being a blown pipe which, after much wrestling with the powerful spray and fumbling with a shut-off valve, I was able to turn off. I rushed out and borrowed a large wet-vac from a friend and, while my wife was trying to suck Lake Michigan into a plastic barrel, I was once again on the phone with our insurance company. Turns out they WILL cover this one.
When things like this go wrong, there is a temptation for us to turn to God and ask "why". God is all-powerful, right? He could make the pipes in our aging building work just fine if He so desires. Yet, instead of Divine intervention we immediately assume Divine neglect. I don't believe that such an assumption is fair. We so frequently cry out to God for justice when it is often us who are guilty of being unfair to God. When the sun is shining on our lives we casually thank God and go our way. When a little rain falls (or stinky water flows) we rapidly point our finger at Him and wonder why He hasn't been doing what we perceive to be His job.
God is God. He is not as interested in our comfort as He is in our completion. He is truly in charge of all things and if we are experiencing challenges of any kind it would behoove us to remember that there is a reason for the suffering not the least of which is to provide us an opportunity to grow in Him. True, such knowledge may be of little comfort, but it is truth nonetheless. It's also good to know that the rain never falls forever. Eventually, the sun will come out and the clean-up begins. Thank You, God.
Now, I hope you'll excuse me. I have some cleaning to do.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
What do you think?
I'm sitting here at the computer getting some work done while outside the snow has already started to fall . . . again. This is like the 3rd or 4th snow we've had in the last couple of months! Oy vey!
So I had the following question and wanted to present it to you, dear reader, to get your feedback.
Does God know everything? What do you think?
I look forward to reading your thoughts.
So I had the following question and wanted to present it to you, dear reader, to get your feedback.
Does God know everything? What do you think?
I look forward to reading your thoughts.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Missing in Action
Recently, the Lord has been dealing with me about prayer. It's probably a sad truth that most of us don't pray as frequently as we should. I know that I fall into that category. But God has been convicting me, not only about my responsibility to pray, but also about the profound Power we can access when we pray. Leonard Ravenhill, one of the great Christian pioneers of prayer in the early and mid 20th century, once said that sermons move men, prayer moves God. I can't help but believe this is true. I'm learning that many of the challenges I'm facing have their solutions found only in much prayer and supplication before God. I find that, when I pray, I'm a better person and tend to interact with greater grace toward myself and others. I find, too, that repentance and true prayer often go hand in hand, a journey that leads to shalom (peace). These are valuable lessons indeed!
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Good weekend . . .
This last Friday evening we had a guest choir sing at the synagogue. "The Voices of St. Mark" from St. Mark AME Zion Church blessed us with music and ministry. Now, I must confess, I love gospel music. That might sound strange coming from a Midwestern Jewish man but there is something about gospel music that lifts my soul and encourages my spirit. I could listen to it for hours and sometimes do! My personal passion for gospel music is not what drove me to invite the choir, however. There is a deeper motivation . . . .
Above everything else, I want to see my brothers the Jews come to a saving revelation of the Messiah Y'shua (Jesus). The Bible tells us that the Jewish people are to be driven to jealousy, and witnessed too, by the Gentile believers (see Romans chapter 11. Good stuff in there). This is the calling of the Gentile believers, to reach the world with the saving Truth of Y'shua, to the Jew FIRST, then also to the Gentile (Romans 1:16). The calling of the Jewish people is to be a light to the Gentiles (Exodus 19).
Let me clarify something here and, in so doing, address some concerns that have come to my attention. I am not trying to turn Beth Emanuel Messianic Synagogue into a "church". I am not trying to "Christianize" Messianic Judaism. Why did I invite a Gospel choir? Why did a Christian pastor come and speak at our Saturday Torah service? Because, according to the Scriptures above (and many others), we as Messianic Jews are part of the global Body of Messiah and, as such, need them as much as they need us. Taking it one step further, the Gentiles have an anointing from God to reach the Jewish people with Messiah! (see the Scriptures referred to above). The stronger bonds we as a synagogue have with our Gentile brothers and sisters in Messiah, the more they realize their Biblical obligation to reach my people! The more they reach my people, the more the Jews will become born-again (John 3). The more Jews find their true identity in Y'shua, the more they live out their calling to be a light to the Gentiles and the more the unbelieving Gentiles will get saved! As Rabbi Paul wrote in Romans, "If the falling away of them [the Jews] means the salvation of the Gentiles, what shall the restoration of them [the Jews] mean but life from the dead"!
So, we will continue to reach out to the Jewish people while at the same time ministering to our Gentile brothers and sisters about their calling. As we strengthen these bonds, we will have a greater impact on the Jewish community. Pretty cool how God planned all of this out, huh?
Above everything else, I want to see my brothers the Jews come to a saving revelation of the Messiah Y'shua (Jesus). The Bible tells us that the Jewish people are to be driven to jealousy, and witnessed too, by the Gentile believers (see Romans chapter 11. Good stuff in there). This is the calling of the Gentile believers, to reach the world with the saving Truth of Y'shua, to the Jew FIRST, then also to the Gentile (Romans 1:16). The calling of the Jewish people is to be a light to the Gentiles (Exodus 19).
Let me clarify something here and, in so doing, address some concerns that have come to my attention. I am not trying to turn Beth Emanuel Messianic Synagogue into a "church". I am not trying to "Christianize" Messianic Judaism. Why did I invite a Gospel choir? Why did a Christian pastor come and speak at our Saturday Torah service? Because, according to the Scriptures above (and many others), we as Messianic Jews are part of the global Body of Messiah and, as such, need them as much as they need us. Taking it one step further, the Gentiles have an anointing from God to reach the Jewish people with Messiah! (see the Scriptures referred to above). The stronger bonds we as a synagogue have with our Gentile brothers and sisters in Messiah, the more they realize their Biblical obligation to reach my people! The more they reach my people, the more the Jews will become born-again (John 3). The more Jews find their true identity in Y'shua, the more they live out their calling to be a light to the Gentiles and the more the unbelieving Gentiles will get saved! As Rabbi Paul wrote in Romans, "If the falling away of them [the Jews] means the salvation of the Gentiles, what shall the restoration of them [the Jews] mean but life from the dead"!
So, we will continue to reach out to the Jewish people while at the same time ministering to our Gentile brothers and sisters about their calling. As we strengthen these bonds, we will have a greater impact on the Jewish community. Pretty cool how God planned all of this out, huh?
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Introduction
Shalom! My name is Troy Joseph (Yosi) Fuller and I'm the Senior Rabbi of Beth Emanuel Messianic Synagogue in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.
First, I have to admit a bit of wonder at our current digital age. Through this medium I am able to share with you thoughts and concerns and keep you abreast of the ongoing hope and heartache that is ministry. I plan on updating often and look forward to sharing with you this journey called Messianic Judaism. Be warned, however; Messianic Judaism, like every other move of God throughout history, can often be challenging and is just as often misunderstood!
I hope our times together will be both a blessing and encouragement. Thank you, dear reader, for taking the time to peruse these pages! I look forward to sharing with you in the coming days and months!
First, I have to admit a bit of wonder at our current digital age. Through this medium I am able to share with you thoughts and concerns and keep you abreast of the ongoing hope and heartache that is ministry. I plan on updating often and look forward to sharing with you this journey called Messianic Judaism. Be warned, however; Messianic Judaism, like every other move of God throughout history, can often be challenging and is just as often misunderstood!
I hope our times together will be both a blessing and encouragement. Thank you, dear reader, for taking the time to peruse these pages! I look forward to sharing with you in the coming days and months!
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