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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.