Missing You

Today especially, I miss you, David.

Seems there are reminders of you everywhere I turn.  In the kitchen, there are 4 chairs around the table, one of which you will never fill again.  Most of the time, we do our work at the kitchen table, or share our meals there, or whatever, and it's all fine.  And then sometimes, I sit at my place and look across at your chair, and I'm quiet; the joy seeps away for a time.

I remember when you were little and sat in your high chair at our table; we were a little family of three then.  Some lovely students in my Grade 12 Math class made you that bib in the picture as a project!  One time you were so exhausted from a very busy day, you almost fell asleep in your dinner! It was so funny to watch your head drop as you started to doze, then you'd rouse yourself and laugh, and then start to bob again... Later, along came Katie and we were now "the millionaire's family", a boy and a girl.  I sure felt like I'd struck it rich! I had my best friend for my wife, a handsome, enthusiastic, energetic son and a beautiful, affectionate, happy daughter. We had food on the table, a roof over our heads, a good vehicle and enough to go camping for our summer holidays! It didn't get much better!

At one point, you got it into your head to try eating the dog's dry kibble.  Then you tried to convince us that you really liked it! Your mom, brilliant woman that she is, finally asked you if that's what you wanted; you said "Yes!".  So she cooked spaghetti (your favourite meal), served up a heaping plate to everyone else, and put a bowl of dog kibble in front of you! Well, you tried to keep up the charade, even eating some of the kibble (though your enthusiasm had now waned), until Judy finally asked you "Are you done eating dog food? Would you like to eat people food now?" You answered with a subdued "Yes, please." and that was the end of eating dog food. Raising you was always an adventure!

As I go into the livingroom, there is a portrait frame, holding school pictures of you and Kate. I always liked that photo; it's the one we chose for your obituary photo as well. You are a handsome young man, looking back at me out of the frame. All kinds of potential. You should have life by the tail. As I turn toward the fish tank, I'm reminded of the time, when you were maybe 4, when you got out of bed after we had all gone to bed and decided to do some fishing of your own in my tank in the kitchen. Somehow I heard a noise, went to investigate, and found you up to your shoulder in the tank, scooping with one of the nets, plants floating, a few fish crushed and doing the backstroke, gravel and water all over the new hardwood in our kitchen, your pyjamas soaked, and a look of sheer joy on your face ....

I go out to the garage to bring the garbage out, and there are your bags of belongings. In the last few years, your housing was somewhat transient, and your stuff got stored in our garage. Several times, you came back, enjoyed a meal with us, got some clean/different clothes and things from storage, and then headed off again. The tears come unbidden as I consider that you'll never be back for these...

We stopped at your grave today, David. It's the first time for me since the funeral. I like Union Cemetery; it has a peaceful feel, with its mature trees. Your grave is mostly in the sun in the morning, shaded by the afternoon, the way I think you would have liked things. The ground has settled significantly. There's a hole in the top corner of the site, and it's cold out. I suppose it won't be the last time I'll stand here silently weeping.

There's a hole inside me too, Davey; a hollow, an ache. The jagged edge of it, that we experienced a few weeks ago, has dulled somewhat. At times, I look up from the table to see that look on your mother's face, and it know it's right at the surface for her, ready to spill over.  Guess it will be like that for quite a while. We hold each other and find comfort each other's hug and understanding. Words aren't really always necessary.

I'm glad we had a chance to take you out for lunch before we went away. I'm glad I hugged you, and told you that I loved you. In one sense, there's so much more I'd like to tell you. Like how your arrival in our lives changed me irrevocably; I will forever be "tattooed" by the fact that I got to be your dad. I got to take you to swimming classes, I got to take you fishing, I jumped off the rocks with you into the water, I built your first sandbox, I built your treehouse, I "slept' with you in that treehouse, I taught you to ride a bike, etc, etc.  

And I watched you as you slept when you were little (and sometimes when you were bigger) and marvelled that someone would have looked at a description of me and decided "Yup, this is the guy to whom I'm going to entrust the raising of my child." What?!? God, what have I ever done to earn such a remarkable, inestimable privilege? Why would You ever think to gift me with such a treasure? I'm just an ordinary guy, a math teacher from Oshawa. How could You ever imagine that I would measure up to such a massive responsibility? And let's be transparent, God; I blew it many times! And in that area, my memory seems to be pretty good, much to my chagrin. But You were faithful, when I turned to You for help, when I prayed for the ability to love my David as You would want me to, You kept teaching me, You kept humbling me to go and ask David's forgiveness when I wronged him, and You kept bringing people in my life to teach me and to help me raise him.

I still remember the song I sang at church one Father's Day:

I wanna be just like You, 'cuz he wants to be just like me

I wanna be a holy example for his innocent eyes to see

Help me be a living Bible, Lord, that my little boy can read.

I wanna be just like you, 'cuz he wants to be like me.

I remember driving to London that day almost 21 years ago now. It was raining hard that day. We arrived at the hospital, where Joan, our adoption worker met us at the door. She walked us down the long corridor to the room where you were waiting, and I remember thinking how loud her heels sounded on the terrazo floors. We stepped in the door and I was suddenly terrified: what if I couldn't love you the way you needed to be loved, because you weren't biologically mine? And then Suzanne, your birth mother's adoption worker, scooped you out of the glass bassinet and gave you to ME first (highly unusual; you would typically be given to "Mom" first) and I loved you! Oh David, I was overwhelmed and forever marked by my love for you! There would never be another doubt in my mind; you could not have been more loved if you had been born to us!

I don't know how all that stuff will work in heaven; I know my main focus will be my Saviour, who made it possible for me (and you!) to even consider being in heaven someday. But I imagine now that I will see you and give you the biggest bear hug you can handle! And your heart and mine will be healed and right and at peace and filled with joy. No more tears, no more sadness.

But for now, I still miss you, my David, my son.

Being Transformed

Romans 12:1,2

Present your bodies a living and holy sacrifice, acceptable to God,

which is your spiritual service of worship.

And do not be conformed to this world

but be transformed by the renewing of your mind,

so that you may prove what the will of God is,

that which is good and acceptable and perfect.

Grammar. The very word used to cause fear in the minds of elementary school children.

I always understood it; I just never liked it. And perhaps it was in the presentation. Maybe it's like that with anything; math, Shakespeare, history, languages -- they can either be boring or interesting depending on the presentation. (Note of thanks: my Grade 10 History teacher, Jim Nawrot, was one of my most inspiring teachers. He made Canadian history come alive, introducing me to Gordon Lightfoot and ballads like "The Canadian Railroad Trilogy". Thank you, Mr. Nawrot! Hope I can be as inspiring as you!)

But back to grammar. Never found it to be much use -- until I started studying languages and how different groups put words and parts of words together to form meaning. Until I studied biology and saw how scientists put words and parts of words together to classify, or to describe techniques. Until I studied the Word of God and saw how beautifully the writers, inspired by the Spirit of God, put words and parts of words together to convey heavenly, eternal, infinite concepts to men and women with earthly, temporal, finite understanding.

In Romans, Paul pleads with us to give our bodies as a living sacrifice. We're not talking following dry rules; he really means giving everything -- our lives, our very identities -- as a figurative human sacrifice on an altar to God. We know there were pagan civilizations that did this; we recently went to Mexico and heard how often human sacrifice was involved in the Mayan religion. There was nothing held back. That's what Paul was getting at. In the language of today, he would likely say, "Be all in."

He likens it to worship. We tend, in modern day Western Christianity, to associate worship solely with music. You can be part of a worship team, you can buy a worship album. But worship comes from "worth-ship". It is attributing worth to something or someone by performing a determined action. So Paul is essentially saying that, by giving your life as a figurative sacrifice to God, you attribute to God the highest worth by holding nothing back. But that also means that the degree to which you hold back reflects the level of worth you attribute to God.

He goes on to say, "Do not be conformed to this world..." To be formed means to be shaped or molded; throw the prefix "con" on the front and it adds the thought of being shaped or molded together with this world. Instead, he instructs us to be transformed; different prefix here. When we did dissections in biology, we were sometimes instructed to do a transverse section,  or a cut across. The prefix means across, or perpendicular (at 90 degrees) to something. So Paul is, in effect, saying "Be shaped or molded in a way that cuts across the direction this world is taking." In other words, be counter-cultural.

So when the culture around you says to focus on power, or physical beauty, or money, or things, Jesus says, "Seek after God's Kingdom first; the rest of your needs God will take care of."  When the culture says, "Hold on to your money! You earned it, you need it, you deserve it!", the Word of God indicates that "God loves a cheerful giver" and that we are to be generous, because in our generosity, we reflect the heart of our Heavenly Dad. When the culture says, "I might forgive, but I'll NEVER forget!", God reminds us that we are to forgive as we have been forgiven. And He says "Their sins and iniquities I will remember no more." It's not a passive "Oh I forgot!"; it involves an active choosing not to bring it to mind, to set it aside when it does come unbidden, and to purposely not hold it against the offender. This is hard; but it comes back to the worth you assign to God, by your willingness to do this for Him.

And how? "... by the renewing of your mind ..." It requires a habit of immersing yourself in the How-To Manual; the Bible. Ephesians 5:26 talks about "the washing with water by the Word". Spending time in God's Word, seeing His heart and learning to think like He thinks cleanses our mind of wrong thinking and molds us to think more like He does.

I struggle with it too. It's a daily battle, but it's a worthwhile one, because ultimately HE is worth it!

Why Me?

Mark 6: 45-48

Immediately Jesus made His disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of Him to Bethsaida ... Later that night, the boat was in the middle of the lake, and He was alone on land.

He saw the disciples straining at the oars, because the wind was against them.

Shortly before dawn, He went out to them ...

Have you ever asked, "Why me?"

Ever felt like you've been through your share of difficult times, like there is some cosmic scale out there that balances the amount of good things and bad things that happen to us, and in our accounting system, we're due for some good things? Or maybe, for whatever reason, you feel you like you should perhaps have some privilege, some exemption, from life's trials?

We probably would never come right out and say so; at least I wouldn't.  But, as I mentioned in a previous post, when my wife and I struggled with infertility, I essentially had a mindset that said, "Why are You doing this to me, God? I'm on the right team!  I've done the right things! This shouldn't be happening to me!"  You see, consciously or not, I believed that, because I had followed all the "rules" -- been a good person, went to church, bla bla bla -- because I was obedient, I should be reaping good results.

Andy Stanley has written a little book entitled "Since Nobody's Perfect, How Good Is Good Enough?"  In it, he discusses the ramifications of the mindset that says, "Good things happen to good people" and similar ideas.  We like the thought, but it's not realistic; many terrible things happened to good people during World War II, for example.  And even Jesus addressed this incorrect thinking with His disciples when, in John 9, they asked regarding a blind beggar "Who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?" Jesus replied, "Neither ... but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him."

In the account in Mark 6, the disciples found themselves in the midst of quite a storm. They were experienced fishermen, who knew a few things about handling a boat and reading the weather; they were no rookies.  So how did they find themselves in the midst of this storm?  By obeying Jesus.  Did you catch that?  They did EXACTLY what Jesus instructed them to do ... and ended up fighting for their lives in a storm.

What?!? How can that be? Why would Jesus do that?

Notice that, in verse 48, it says, "He saw the disciples ..."  You can read a few things into that, I suppose, but I see in that phrase that He hasn't taken His eyes off of them the whole time.  He loves His disciples!  I am encouraged that, no matter what difficulties I find myself in, He hasn't taken His eyes off of me either.

And they are in no real danger.  He is capable of walking on the water to them, and the moment He steps in the boat, the wind stops; He's got this. Why did He do that? Why did He allow them to go through such trauma and fear? Verse 52 says "... for they still didn't understand the miracle of the loaves ..." Jesus was teaching them that He is in control. He has the power, He has the resources, He has the authority.  Remember, He JUST fed 5000 men, plus their families, with 5 loaves and 2 fish. They had experienced it by bringing Him the loaves and fish, and then distributing the food to the people.  And yet hours later, they're terrified for their lives because they are trusting in their own resources. He was trying to teach them NOT to fear, but to trust Him, despite the circumstances.

And what about you and I? When my wife and I had no success starting a family the usual way, I went into problem-solving mode.  We looked into treatments, we looked into adoption; I pushed hard to get things moving.  But I remember coming out of church one Sunday morning; we had just sung a hymn where one line goes "... And aye, the dews of sorrow Were lustred with His love ..." My dad saw me in the parking lot and asked me how I was doing (he was always able to read me pretty well). I replied, "Dad, I'm seeing lots of dew.  I'm just not seeing the lustre."  I was in full-on "Why me?" mode. As I look back now, I can see that I was dependent on my own resources, my own ability to get me through. God was in a box of my making; I would open the box and take Him out on those rare occasions when I needed Him, and then I'd put Him back. No stringent demands on my life, the kind that relationship calls for!

Just as Jesus had to teach His 12 disciples that they needed to be fully relying on Him, He had to teach me the same. Is that because He has some kind of "control issues"? No, it's because He loves us and knows what is best for us.  We are designed to be in relationship with Him! Blaise Pascal, famous scientist (after whom we named the unit for atmospheric pressure), mathematician and hymn writer (who knew?) said it well:

What God has been known to do is remove all of our resources, so that we are forced to turn to Him, or reject Him and despair.  He taught me that my resources were limited; His were limitless. Mine were often costly; His were free.  His resources were MY resources, because I am His child in Jesus Christ! And He is at work, shaping me to be more like Jesus, for His glory!

I know that doesn't all make sense if you are not a God-follower. This is not just a power-trip on His part; it's actually what we are designed for, intended for, and it actually brings joy!

Here's the difference: Having learned to trust God, that He is good and has my very best in mind, I have a peace in the midst of difficult times that doesn't really make sense to some people. How can I be sure He has my best in mind? Well, the apostle Paul expressed it best when he said, in Romans 8 verse 32: "Since God did not spare even His own Son but gave Him up for us all, won't He also give us everything else [that we need]?" Why would I doubt God's good will toward me, if even His own Son was not too great a cost to pay for my salvation?

Believe me when I say that there is something about looking at your own son in a casket that makes you assess whether you truly believe that God is as good as He claims to be. In our recent tragedy, I found myself recognizing the pitiful limits of my own resources, but knowing, knowing, that God was going to take care of us, see us through this, and supply everything we would need from His vast and limitless resources, which He delights to expend for His children. And my faith in Him was not disappointed.

Ephesians 3:20 refers to "...Him who is able to do exceedingly abundantly beyond all that we can ask or imagine..."  That was our experience as we went through the days and weeks after our son's death. He provided for us exceedingly abundantly, more than we could have imagined.

No more "Why me, God?" I choose to trust Him and ask "What is it You're trying to do in me?"

It Ain't Me

2 Corinthians 4:7-9, 13

But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed... Since we have the same spirit of faith according to what has been written, “I believed, and so I spoke,” we also believe, and so we also speak.

I had been doing my reading elsewhere in the Bible and hadn't really read Our Daily Bread for a while. In our recent circumstances I needed something more structured and went to the online format. I am amazed at how relevant the devotionals have been to our situation, as if they had been written for us. And not just one, either, but several. Why should I be amazed? Why wouldn't the same God who arranged to meet my every physical need also arrange to meet my spiritual needs in this trial? Is preplanning this, 3-6 months prior, too difficult for Him? I say that I know God loves me; do I really believe He loves me enough to look after these details for me?

Anyway, the devotional was based on the passage above. I posted the following on Facebook:

As we have walked our journey of grief and loss, many have commented on the "strength of my character" or "the strength of my faith" getting me through. I appreciate the sentiment, but it is not the strength of our faith that has gotten us through this so far. Rather it is the strength of the One in whom we have PLACED our faith that has gotten us through this. He has done it, not me. I have seen the truth of it shine crystal clear in these last couple of weeks, not to mention the years before and based on the evidence, "I have believed, and therefore I will speak" of the One who deserves the credit: Jesus Christ my Lord.

That's really it. I can't do this on my own; I don't have it in me. I'm not Superman, I'm not some kind of hero or giant. I am just a clay jar, with quite a few cracks, I might add! (In fact, I'm sure there are some who would use the term "crackpot" to describe me ...☺) The source of my strength is His love and power sustaining me. It's all of Him, and I'm not afraid to proclaim it.  Readers, He is SO trustworthy! He calls you to place your trust in Him, for everything! My ultimate goal in writing this blog is not for you to see what I can do in Him; it's to see what He has done in my life, and can do in yours! Email me if you want more clarification on this; it would bring me great joy.

God With Us

Matthew 1:23 

She will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel, which means ‘God is with us.’

What does it mean, that God is with us?

I remember back when we were struggling through infertility, how angry and hurt and alone I felt at times. I thought God had abandoned us. I wondered if He was playing some kind of cruel joke. If He was really God, why didn't He "fix" this? (Not that there was anything to fix really; doctors were never really able to pinpoint anything wrong. But I wanted Him to fix my hurt.) The realities were twofold:

1. HE wasn't distant; I was. I had pulled away from Him rather than leaning into Him.

2. I still wanted to be King of MY Kingdom and have Him do MY bidding, rather than being open to what He might be doing in my life and allowing Him to be King.

If He had done what I wanted, I would never have had the 20 years I did with my beloved David. I would have never known my sweet daughter Kate and been amazed at the beautiful young woman she is becoming. We would never have known the joy that our beautiful granddaughter Charlotte brings to our lives. So many stories and memories I would have missed out on. So many opportunities to see the hand of God lovingly working in our lives.

Some might say, "But He took your son! Where's the love in that?" My only answer is that I don't know why God took our David. I am slowly learning that he was struggling with a great deal; the study of mental illness is still so new. I just don't have all the information at my disposal that God has.

But if you're asking "Where was God in all of this?" I'll tell you;  He was right beside us,  holding us up and giving us strength as between 500 and 600 people came to the visitation and funeral.  The funeral director said that, in her 12 years in the business, she had NEVER seen a turnout like this one.

Where was God? Seven months prior, in June/July of 2016, someone had indicated to David that he might qualify for ODSP (Ontario Disability Support Program, I believe). He saw a doctor, received a diagnosis, made the application and was approved.  His worker John said he was greatly surprised at the speed with which it was all processed; usually it takes months. Because David was receiving ODSP, he was eligible for some basic funeral benefits, which helped us cover the staggering costs. Where was God? He was putting things into place 7 months ago so that our needs would be met now.

And I didn't even know about all this! When I started inquiring about funeral services, the first place was very expensive. God put Armstrong Funeral Home on my mind, and He put Brent on the phone. I didn't even know the right questions to ask, but Brent did. It was he who discovered David was on a disability and connected me with the funeral benefits resources to help us. Where was God? He was directing me to Armstrong and the personnel to help us meet the funeral costs.

We ran into roadblocks with paperwork: ODSP needed a bank statement, the bank needed a death certificate, David's body hadn't been released from the coroner's office... We couldn't move forward with the planning. And we were still in the midst of our own very fresh grief. I was talking to the funeral home about other things and mentioned this in passing. "Don't worry" they said. "We'll draft a letter to facilitate this." Had the letter within the hour, went to the bank, the very busy manager happened to have a half hour available just then, and we had our documents! Where was God? Walking ahead of us, opening closed doors so we could move forward.

On Tuesday night, after a 3-hour meeting with the funeral director, where we saw David for the first time, we arrived home at 9:30 pm, physically and emotionally spent. A text came through from Steve, the director of the Toronto Northern Lights, the men's chorus to which I belong, to say that the guys wanted to help. They had taken up a collection to help cover the remaining funeral costs. As a result of their very generous gifts, over $4000 was given to us. Everything was covered! Where was God? Moving the hearts of my dear brothers-in-song to provide for our financial needs.

My wife's cousin Kathy and our good friend Beth coordinated the many who wanted to help with meals; every night for the month of January, someone shows up at our door around 5 pm with a hot meal. Where was God? Right there, taking care of the meals when Judy and I just couldn't get our heads around it.

The new album by Chris Tomlin, "Never Lose Sight", is a wonderful, encouraging CD.  In the song "Good Good Father", there's a line that reads "'Cause You know just what we need before we say a word..."  That has been our experience throughout this heart-wrenching ordeal.  I can say, in the midst of my tears and my grief, that He is a "Good Good Father".

I don't have a clue who will read these posts, or IF anyone will read them. I've come to realize that the issue is not "Do you still have trials when you belong to God? And is He therefore still good?" During our infertility struggles, my mindset was "Why are You doing this to me, God?  I'm on the right team; this shouldn't be happening!"  I had so much to learn. The truth is that we ALL face trials, whether we are God-followers or not.  I am grateful to have Him walk through them with me, rather than having to face them alone. How about you? Do you have that hope, that assurance?

My faith in God's trustworthiness is strengthened; I will not doubt Him and His goodness.  I will strive, in whatever I may face, to simply ask "What are You trying to teach me, Lord?"

My First Post - Losing, Grieving, Waiting

Hard to believe that only 2 weeks ago, at 3:15 am, the police were at our door to tell us our beloved son David had died of an accidental drug overdose, at the age of 20.

It's all a little surreal. And yet God had been preparing us for this day, and preparing things to help us when this day would come.

The couple of years prior to this were difficult. On December 29th, a friend had texted me to ask me how things were going.  I had responded, "Not much we can do about his choices ... It's one thing to release your child into God's hands knowing he could be in for a bumpy road; it's another to learn to release him into God's hands knowing your next visit to the hospital could be to ID his body. Quite a road He's taking us on." Little did I know at that time where the road would lead.

Oh David, I loved you so, my son! You were truly my "beloved" son, the meaning of your name. I was so excited and awestruck and overwhelmed to be chosen to be your dad! What a prospect! How daunting! My desire to be the best dad I could be is part of what drove me to the Lord; to commit to following Him was the best way I knew how to be the best dad for you! I felt a responsibility to your birth parents as well, to do this to the best of my ability.

And yet I can't help but feel like I failed you.  I told you that we missed you and that we loved you,  but somehow it just wasn't enough ... Oh David, I long to hug you, to hold your face in my hands and tell you how much I love you, and to trust me with the steps you need to take. But it's too late for that now.

Psalm 31:7 says "I will be glad and rejoice in Your love, for You saw my affliction and knew the anguish of my soul."  Verses 9 & 10 read "Be merciful to me, Lord, for I am in distress; my eyes grow weak with sorrow, my soul and body with grief. My life is consumed by anguish and my years by groaning; my strength fails because of my affliction and my bones grow weak."

Psalm 34:18 reminds me that "the Lord is close to the broken-hearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit." And Psalm 147:3 reads "He heals the broken-hearted and binds up their wounds." Psalm 34:15 says "His ears are attentive to their cry ..." And Psalm 27:14 reads "Wait for the Lord; Be strong and take heart, and wait for the Lord." 

And so I wait...