love and hate

It seems like in that millisecond where a nurse’s voice echoed “Code Blue” over the hospital intercom, the world became something very unfamiliar to me. My footing seemed unsure, and God seemed unreachable.

I wish I could say everything turned around overnight. Well, I guess in a way it did – if you look at the last 3 months as the longest night. There’s been a heaviness, a literal darkness, that has held heavy on my soul and tired my body down to a point of weakness I never thought I’d know in this lifetime. I had to answer some tough questions about faith, and more personally, God.

Don’t get me wrong. It was never a question of whether or not I believed in God. It was whether or not I believed God believed in me. And I think that’s what I’ve wrestled with most in writing this blog, in getting up the next morning, and learning to laugh and live again. It’s intensely challenging to show God’s love when you’re not necessarily feeling it yourself at the moment. And that moment lingers.

But that’s the key, isn’t it? When we become so enshrouded with the awareness of just ourselves, we don’t see the pain surrounding us and the opportunity to extend love, or at the very least kindness, to the mad world around us. Once we do extend love, we not only begin to feel better about ourselves, but we begin again to “feel” God (not that God is to be felt, so much as believed in – faith is much more than an emotion – in fact, it’s usually just the opposite, but I digress).

“There will come a time when each and every one of us will look on our lives from the vantage point of eternity and see that our entire lifetime was just a moment to God, a mere breath. So was our suffering. Then we will look on the rewards that have been stored up for us, rewards for our faithfulness as stewards of the heavy talents of suffering that were entrusted to us. And we will be startled to see that the exchange rate of heaven is not measured out to us pound for pound because the thumb of a generous God is on those scales, weighting them in our favor.” – Ken Gire, The North Face of God

We all know the Wild Bill of the saloons and the quick draws. But there is another Wild Bill whose character demands greater fame than his namesake. George G. Ritchie Jr. And Elizabeth Sherrill talk about this Wild Bill in their book, Return from Tomorrow. Wild Bill was a Jewish prisoner during the holocaust. Loving as he was calm under pressure, he became a valuable asset to everyone in the camp – to and including the German guards. He worked tirelessly in cooperation with the German soldiers as a problem solver and peacemaker between the clashing ethnic groups. With several languages at his command and the understanding of a 100-year old sage, it is hard to imagine the reality of his beginnings. He watched as his wife and 5 children were slain right in front of him years earlier. When asked why he was helping and doing what he was doing, he calmly replied:

“Hate had just killed the six people who mattered most to me in the world. I decided then that I would spend the rest of my life – whether it was a few days or many years – loving every person I came in contact with.”

And I suppose that’s where I’m at with God and my place in this world. I could hate God. I could hate the hospital. I could hate this journey that I’ve been put on. And I guarantee, if I did that, I would begin to hate myself. Thornton Wilder, in The Angel That Troubled the Waters, says it perfectly for me. “In love’s service, only the wounded soldiers can serve”.

I’m not out of the woods yet. In fact you might have caught in my last post that my being able to keep Ryan’s liver is still in question. That’s a blow to not only my spirit, but to so many family and friends and yes, you.

We don’t know yet, but we find ourselves still hoping. And the fact that hope can still rise to the top is a result of a tried and tested faith that defies our human tendencies.

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love. – 1 Corinthians 13:13. 

fear and laminin

Stating the obvious here – my blog entries have become fewer and far between. I don’t think that would be the case if there were something new and exciting I was either experiencing or learning along my little trek.

The thing is, it’s hard to have something new to say when I feel like I’m Bill Murray in Groundhog Day.

Every day is pretty much the same – caught in a life that’s not really a life – limited physically from enjoying even the littlest things in life most take for granted. Right here I could go on about my struggles, but I promised not to do that anymore.

The other morning I sat there in a fog and watched my coffee beans get pulverized into powder. Seriously, this thought hit me; it’s the grind that gives it richness. How fine you grind it, the richer the flavor. Yeah, I know it’s out there but that’s how my mind works so deal with it. [insert endearing smile]

Anyway, that led me to look at how my perspective has morphed over the months. Looking at where I started, I’m dumbfounded as to how I got to where I’m at right now. Here’s what I mean. If you were to ask me what my feelings are toward God or how my belief system has changed through this, I wouldn’t have – couldn’t have – predicted my answer: My biggest learning is this – I’ve come to understand FEAR in a very real way.

1. I’ve learned what it means to completely shed my fear of man.
2. I can’t remember what it’s like to feel the fear of death.
3. But more than anything, I’ve come to get a pretty solid grasp on the fear of God.

We’ve got the whole ‘God’s my best friend’ bit down as a Christian culture. Father, shepherd, Lord, Protector....etc, etc roll off the tongue with incredible ease. But have you really stopped and tried to grasp what we purport God’s greatness to be? If you believe He is the Creator, do you really get what that means against the landscape of what is then His creation? Study space for a day and you will suddenly feel an uneasiness creep over you the next time you utter “Dear God”.

Isaiah 40:23-31

“23 He brings princes to naught and reduces the rulers of this world to nothing. 24 No sooner are they planted, no sooner are they sown, no sooner do they take root in the ground, than he blows on them and they wither, and a whirlwind sweeps them away like chaff. 25 “To whom will you compare me? Or who is my equal?” says the Holy One. 26 Lift your eyes and look to the heavens: Who created all these? He who brings out the starry host one by one, and calls them each by name. Because of his great power and mighty strength, not one of them is missing. 27 Why do you say, O Jacob, and complain, O Israel, “My way is hidden from the LORD; my cause is disregarded by my God”? 28 Do you not know? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom. 29 He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. 30 Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; 31 but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”

My trail of altars started with just a few stones. But the further I get down this path, the more stones I heap on each pile. The truth has settled deep inside me, and complete surrender is my response to that truth.

So here’s a bit of news. About a week ago I was relisted for another transplant. Due to yet another odd- defying physical phenomenon, I am faced with the cold hard truth that I may not get to keep what has been the only redeeming thing in all of this. I say that to say, I finally know what it means to absolutely, unconditionally surrender to God’s sovereignty. I don’t find myself angry – which surprises me, if I’m being honest. Instead, I’m humbled and yes, fearful, of God’s sovereign hand. Up til now, I thought I could push through the physical on my own strength. I thought I could work my mind through the mental and emotional hurdles that seem to just keep coming.

But I can’t. I’ve very literally reached the end of myself.

If you’ve ever wondered what a human being looks like who has completely yielded to weakness, conceded to not understanding, or thrown in the towel in the cage match for control – take a good look at this pulverized, espresso powder soul.

Just last night I watched a video by Louie Giglio. It directly related to everything that’s been bubbling to the surface for me. Maybe you’ve heard or seen of the cell adhesion molecule, Laminin. Essentially, it tells cells what their jobs are – the ‘glue’ of the human body – holding everything together. 

You need to go ahead and Google it. The image will say it better than my thousand words ever could. But before you click away, take this scripture with you – the reference that has somehow sustained me as of late: Colossians: 1:16-17:

“16 For by him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things were created by him and for him. 17 He is before all things, and in him all things hold together.”

OK, remember – Laminin not Lanolin. We’ll talk wax another time. 

faith fracas

I know that extended family read this blog. Coworkers too. Sometimes, I feel restrained by that because, after all, we’ve got our image to uphold, right?

Well, image has always been important to me. Sadly, way too important. These days, I look in the mirror
and see a 145 pounder with a potbelly. Vanity quickly takes its exit. Physically, it’s a challenge. Emotionally, well – you can imagine – or maybe not. Surprisingly, I’m finding that I have a deeper spiritual reserve than I thought I had. Or maybe it’s just deepening as I wade into the ocean of the unknown, step after shaky step.

I’d like to say that I would have matured like a fine wine all on my own, if life had played out like it does for most others – calculated, manageable, pseudo-normal. But I don’t think so.

Truth be told, my world has been turned upside down – and this rodeo isn’t over yet.

And I. AM. TIRED.

But mostly I’m tired of hearing myself saying that I’m tired. I’m tired of focusing on MY experience, MY pain, MY whatever. So I’m not going to do that anymore. Instead, I’m going to just think out loud on paper and let the chips fall where they may. I’ve been encouraged to write through my pain, but I don’t have to keep focusing on it.

So faith. Everyone’s got their take.

I’m sure that what I have to say next will bring furrowed brows and concerned prayers being offered up on my behalf. Nothing I’m a stranger to.

Seems to me like there are three categories of people as it relates to faith.

1. There are those that believe “If I pray, God answers it according to my desire, and my ‘faith’ is strengthened as my world remains within my control through my vending machine God.” ‘INSERT PRAYER AND WAIT FOR DESIRED SELECTION’. Color me a heretic, but I’m pretty sure that one’s been disproved.

2. Then there’s the group that has felt the heat of a refining fire but mistaken it for God’s wrath. Usually someone in this category is angry, ambivalent or just plain doesn’t believe in a sovereign God, much less a personal one. Maybe their God is themselves. Or a vibe. Or a coconut. I don’t know.

3. Then there are those that somehow come crawling out of the ashes and the bedlam – their hair smoking, their clothes smoldering and their soul blistered. These are people who have prayed heartfelt prayers to a God they’ve clung to their entire life. Regardless, things didn’t turn out like they planned – not even close. They’ve got questions, but they’re not doubting. They’re hurt but they’re not damaged. They’re not cracked, but you better believe they are broken.

They don’t turn their back on God, because in the deepest part of their humanness there is a settling that God is still the only lifeboat left on this fantasy cruise. Not set on understanding, but desperately depending on their only Real Hope.

I think that’s the basis of a real, owned faith and the true purpose of petitioning God. The result of the prayer, really, isn’t the point. The lesson learned (or missed) is how we respond – humility and stewardship when we get what we want and total reliance on our Creator when we don’t.

You can call that a copout. Makes it easy to say you have faith if random is king and anything bad can be explained away as an exercise in personal growth. I’d be lying if I said I could make sense of the context that is now my life. I read some scriptures and the rules don’t seem to apply right now. But it’s still my choice whether or not I bring my begging bowl back to the feet of God.

It says that Jesus wept. Why? He was just about to fix everything. Did he cry because he was saddened by the lack of faith in his supposed die-hards? Was he brought to tears because he saw theirs? Or did he weep because it broke his heart to watch those he loved go through so much heartache?

And if he cried then, does he cry now when he sees us wrestling with our demons in dark alleys? Does he feel the heat of our tears or taste the bitter pill we’re choking on? I’m going to trust that he does, even though I don’t understand how or why I have to go through that back alley anyway.

I’ve stopped asking ‘Why’. Put anything behind that word – doesn’t matter what it is – it’s an empty pursuit. I’ve started asking other things like;

‘WHO’ – Of the three categories of people, WHO will I choose to be?
‘WHAT’ – WHAT will define my faith...how closely life follows my blueprint? ‘WHEN’ – WHEN will I become the person I know I want to be?
‘WHERE’ – WHERE do I stop and God begins?

If you’ve made it this far, thanks for tolerating my rant. You might not agree with my take on things. I respect and appreciate that. I hope you’re at least grappling with this thing called faith.

Never quit the brawl. 

taking root

Returning home was what I knew it would be.

Empty.
Full.

Hating to be there, yet never wanting to leave.

I have spent this week in the company of greatness. Rooted now, remembering the heritage that has gone before me and the childhood laughter that fills gaps of sadness – pushing and pulling me to go on, even when I can’t see where I’m going.

I’ve looked in the eyes of friends I have known a lifetime and know they’ll walk another one with me. I have cried on the shoulders of family, knowing my shoulder will also be needed and ready.

I have kneeled at the foot of a gravesite and shamelessly cried until I physically hurt, knowing full well it was my body just weeks away from being there instead.

With every reason to be washed away by waves of sadness and grief, instead I stood among the most immovable rocks I’ve known in my life, smoothed by the storms and making the most beautiful splash you could ever imagine.

taking root.

The Psalms could have started anywhere. But David started at the root of the matter. He starts with talking about a man’s roots – where it begins – in delighting in God’s laws. Delighting in laws? Who does that? But they’re not the laws in the like terms you and I know them. These laws are like promises. And there’s a whole book full of them. In fact, the book is peppered with one story after another of those promises coming true.

If we choose to believe those promises – those laws – we become like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither.

But sometimes, we have to learn to live, even thrive, when the river’s run dry for a while. But how?

I think of the lone tree that grows out of the rocky crag in the Andes Mountains. The evergreen that refuses to go pale even in the harshest winter.

I think of the Joshua Tree. It thrives under scalding heat and in the Mojave Desert’s scorched earth. Its name comes from its appearance of Joshua reaching to heaven in prayer.

It grows fast. Its trunk is tough fiber, so tough it doesn’t even tell you its age like most trees. Its root system is deep and wide, with some roots reaching almost 40 feet away. It can live for hundreds, even thousands, of years.

Yeah, that’s the tree I want to be.

This week, I felt the iron fist of cold reality. I felt the searing heat of anger and confusion. But more than that, thankfully, I felt a deepening in my soul’s strength.

Sometimes, we don’t get streams. Sometimes, we have to go to our roots. 

we got crabs

C’mon really? Tell me you didn’t go there.

Luke has a pair of hermit crabs. He loves to lure them out of their safe haven shell to get a better look at them. They can stay amused for hours.

Yes, the Arnold home is a swirling madhouse of dizzying entertainment.

Anyway, I’ve learned a lot from those little critters (the crabs). They live in a certain size shell and when they outgrow it, they move on to a bigger shell that suits them better.

There. I could just leave the post at that and let you ponder. Richness abounds.

Yet alas, I expound because I feel a human need to feel the awkward space.

We’re all hermit crabs. We live and breathe in these shells. We struggle in this skin until one day our souls finally outgrow the body’s shell life. After weeks of doctors tugging on stitches and nurses playing connect the dots on my arms and getting different diagnoses and prognoses, the fragility of my mortality was at first unsettling and then very freeing. This body is just a shell where I temporarily dwell – and it’s not up to me when I’ll move again.

Someday I’ll leave this shell behind and my soul will find a new place to live. I know where that place is going to be for me. Anyone who doesn’t, well – I’m not sure how they sleep at night. But I digress.

Since I recognize the frailness of skin over bone, I’m somehow becoming unaffected by its limitations and disappointments. A portion of lyrics from The Call’s “I Don’t Wanna” always hits me straightaway –

“I can only hope you feel your tears I can only wish you’d feel the hope
I can only hope that I can see
out beyond this skin that covers me.”

The soul is much more in command than this skin that covers me or the blood that runs through these veins. Even with that, I am of the unwavering belief that we are not in control at all. You can cover yourself and others in prayer and all the padding you can muster. But you are a character in a novel you don’t know the end to, as badly as you want to skip to the last page and find out what happens.

Once this revelation settled in me, the number of days I have left on this earth – many or few – suddenly become irrelevant. You live every day as if it’s your last, because it just might be – and if it’s not, well it’s a day lived you can feel good about. Whether you’re chronically sick or at the top of your game, you scream the truth with any air you have left in your lungs. You empty it all out so that if you come back for another day, you have a full reservoir to fill back up again. Everything needs topping off because you’ve been spent in your “element” – your crosshairs where passion meets aptitude and you’re doing what you do because you are at peace with what only God can do and with what only you can do.

Ecclesiastes 2:22 ~ What does a man get for all the toil and anxious striving with which he labors under the sun? 23 All his days his work is pain and grief; even at night his mind does not rest. This too is meaningless. 24 A man can do nothing better than to eat and drink and find satisfaction in his work. This too, I see, is from the hand of God, 25 for without him, who can eat or find enjoyment?

Ecc 5:15 Naked a man comes from his mother’s womb, and as he comes, so he departs. He takes nothing from his labor that he can carry in his hand.
16 This too is a grievous evil: As a man comes, so he departs, and what does he gain, since he toils for the wind ?

Let me say this one last thing. I haven’t gone into great detail about the latest developments on my health, and I’m not going to. But please take this from someone who has become, as docs put it, “a medical phenomenon”...don’t take a day for granted. Love til it hurts. Breathe in life and exhale hope to those around you. Don’t be selfish with your health. What are you toiling for?

Over the past 8 weeks I’ve spent more days inside a hospital room than I have outside of it. Be as grateful for a healthy, full life as much as I ache to have one.

Don’t, please don’t, live in the shadows.

So what is the end of the matter? After being in the valley for a while now, I still don’t know. And I don’t think we’re supposed to. We don’t get crib notes or a roadmap – just an owner’s guide.

PS – I will try and update the blog once a week. To be honest, it’s like reopening a scab every time and to be honest, I’m not up for the emotional trenching right now.

Maybe that will change, maybe it won’t. But the one thing you’ll always get with me is straight up honesty – ready or not. 

simple faith

Over the last six weeks or so since Ryan’s departure, we have received thousands of emails and messages. Mostly, people want to express their condolences and let us to know that they are praying for us, which has been a tremendous encouragement.

But we have also been amazed by how many people have reached out to us looking for answers, intrigued by the story of Ryan’s faith. This short email is just one example:

I just heard your story on TV and was very moved. What do you mean by ‘he had faith’? Explain more please.

What a great question. I’ll do my best to give my perspective.

“Faith” can mean different things to different people. The most important thing to understand about Ryan is that his faith was more than just a set of beliefs or religious tradition. The difference in Ryan’s life was that he actually knew God. Our family is blessed—each generation has made it a priority to introduce the next generation to Jesus Christ.

Most people believe in God, but many don’t really know Him. And that changes everything.

When you know God, you begin to get a glimpse of both His greatness (He is the Creator of everything and holds the universe in His hand) and His goodness (He is full of love and mercy and He showers us with blessings). And if you really get that, like Ryan did, life takes on new meaning. The only acceptable response is to love Him completely.

When you boil it all down, Ryan lived for one purpose: to please God and bring glory to Him.

Ryan wanted to please God in everything he did: how he adored his Shannon, how he fathered his boys, how he loved his friends and how he cared for people. And ultimately, he wanted to please God by helping his brother, who only had a few months to live.

This same simple faith is how we are finding peace through this entire ordeal. We miss Ryan beyond words. But we are so proud of him and inspired by him—how he lived his life for an audience of One. His life is an example to many, including those of us who knew him best.

Through the lens of eternity, we only have a short time on this earth. Thank you, Ryan, for helping us focus on the one thing that really matters. 

take heart

“I have told you all this so that you may have peace in Me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33 NLT)

Yep, life is not always the smooth sailing we wish it would be. In fact, life can be very hard, something our family is feeling the reality of every day. But then, as my mom said to me this weekend, after reading a great book by Mary Beth Chapman: “We are finding out we can do hard.”

I guess I feel officially grown up now. For me and my family, I’m not sure when “hard” is gonna end. We still live between grief and hope; we still can sometimes fleetingly grasp the joy that is to come. But somehow, in the here and now, how do we believe we can “take heart”? How do we believe we can overcome, through Christ, the “many trials and sorrows”? “Enough already!” we’re all silently screaming.

So what do we do?

Keep fighting the fight. This is written on my grandpa’s memorial stone: “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” (2 Timothy 4:7) In other words, if you don’t quit, you win. And life is a race, a fight; every day brings new challenges, choices, trials...that we can overcome! But, we live in a fallen world and it’s tough. The key is not giving up.

Stand in the gap. (Ezekiel 22:30) People need people, there’s something cool in that, leaning on each other, in good times and bad, building friendships and relationships...that’s what life is all about. The really cool thing is mixing the spiritual with friendships – praying for each other, praying together, talking about real stuff, not just the “small talk” of everyday life. So if you “stand in the gap” for someone in prayer, you pray for them or “intercede” – basically praying to God on their behalf.

So, we’re fighting the fight and standing in the gap – for Ryan’s family, for Mom and Dad. Thanks for joining with us. We know you are; we feel it and want to say thank you.

If we don’t quit...we win!

Psalm 34
I bless God every chance I get; my lungs expand with his praise.

I live and breathe God;
if things aren’t going well, hear this and be happy:

Join me in spreading the news; together let’s get the word out.

God met me more than halfway,
he freed me from my anxious fears.

Look at him; give him your warmest smile. Never hide your feelings from him.

When I was desperate, I called out, and God got me out of a tight spot.

God’s angel sets up a circle
of protection around us while we pray.

Open your mouth and taste, open your eyes and see— how good God is.

Blessed are you who run to him.

Worship God if you want the best; worship opens doors to all his goodness.

Young lions on the prowl get hungry, but God-seekers are full of God.

Come, children, listen closely;
I’ll give you a lesson in God worship.

Who out there has a lust for life?
Can’t wait each day to come upon beauty?

Guard your tongue from profanity, and no more lying through your teeth.

Turn your back on sin; do something good. Embrace peace—don’t let it get away!

God keeps an eye on his friends,
his ears pick up every moan and groan.

God won’t put up with rebels; he’ll cull them from the pack.

Is anyone crying for help? God is listening, ready to rescue you.

If your heart is broken, you’ll find God right there;
if you’re kicked in the gut, he’ll help you catch your breath. 

35

Happy Birthday Ryan. See you soon.