A friend, whose name will go unmentioned for obvious reasons, asked me tongue in cheek today whether I’ll hang up my blogging cleats, so to speak … now that I’m cured. Uh, that will be a no and a no. 🙂

You’ve all been so kind and loving in your support since we shared the news from yesterday! Diane and I just bask in the reality that this is how we were all designed in the first place. To be in community, sharing life with its many joys and challenges.

In the short run, it’ll be a bit like testing the waters. The problem is still there and it’s not a good thing. But, we have a great doctor, a Plan A and Plans B and C. One of the immediate challenges for me will be how to balance everything and not overextend. Keep the RPM levels stable when facing some big projects in the next couple of months. I’m not really anxious about it as I am part of high functioning teams that are designed to collaborate and shift responsibilities to get the important stuff done. As it should be.

I wish I could share all of the conversations Diane and I are having and have had in the past five weeks. I try to share some of them. This is what I mean by, having embarked on that canoe down the river, there’s no question of going back.

I suspect that this verse I’ll share may not be received in the same way by everyone, be they Christians or not. Whether you believe that Jesus is God or, even, if there is a personal and loving God, I hope it resonates.

Paul writes in Romans 8:28: “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”

This can be taken in a number of different ways. Here’s my take and it’s not one where God pays me back for being loyal. Not at all. It’s that, when we surrender through love, good things are discovered and flourish. That when we recognize we are not in charge of the whole thing but are called to a higher and deeper purpose, beauty arrives.

I’ve mentioned countless times in recent weeks that I feel I’m living in Romans 8:28. It says, “in all things,” not just nice things.

Dawn and Ryan said this past weekend that the Kingdom of God is found in the most desolate of places. That is where it truly flourishes. Not in nice easy places but in hard, hard places. That flourishing is a thing of immense beauty.

Diane and I are surrounded by immense beauty.

Lord, thank you for following through on your promise. Help us always to be open to finding the good, even when things are bad. Thank you for weaving us together in love. We rejoice and marvel in that. Help us to stay within the banks and trust the river’s flow, listening for your whispers and responding appropriately to your guidance. Thank you for your faith in us. Amen.

Just returned from a great meeting with my new primary care doctor, as in he will be the one to carry me the rest of the way. Lots of really good news, thank God and all of you!

First of all, we certainly liked him as much as we were led to expect. He was kind and patient. Obviously knew what he was doing and carefully walked us through everything. We felt extremely comfortable throughout.

He reviewed all of the imaging with us, which was the third time I’ve seen them. But (and this is where things changed) he has a somewhat different view than the previous two specialists. First, and this is big, he does not believe if the thing bursts, it should be immediately lethal. It’s just not in a place to do that. He gave us a very detailed description of exactly what is happening and where it is. Yes, it would not be a good thing at all and could be complicated but probably not lethal. That’s huge.

Second, he concurs with the present course of aspirin as a blood thinner and is very pleased I have not had any significant episodes or reactions in the past month. He is puzzled by the low grade headache and heaviness but says that is probably because the aneurysm is pressing on some nerves. I may be trying some nerve medicine to alleviate that.

Third, he said these things can heal. He explained how that happens. I’m ok with his explanation. If you’re reading this, you know where we stand on God’s ability in this. Please do not cease praying!

Fourth, my risk right now is in small blood clots forming. He doesn’t believe a massive stroke is something to be overly concerned about but it’s possible I’ll have those very small strokes called TIAs, that are typically short lived. He told us what to watch out for. If one happens, I’ll go to the ER and he will be summoned.

Fifth, and this is also very big, he has a Plan B. Unlike what we were led to believe, he does believe he has the skills and ability to go in and stent or coil the artery. He does not recommend it at this time, due to the risk of creating blood clots and a stroke, even though he thinks those risks are relatively small. We’re extremely relieved to know there IS a Plan B. There’s even a Plan C, which I had not heard of, is more invasive and has a 75% chance of working as opposed to 95% in Plan B. I’m Ok with Plan C in an emergency situation.

So, what does this mean for us now?

(1) Stay the course. Keep on the aspirin. New MRI in another four or five months. If it appears to be healing, that’s great. Keep doing the same. If it hasn’t changed or has become worse, probably consider implementing Plan B.

(2) Start returning to some kind of normal activity, within reason and some boundaries. In other words, I can begin some light exercising and see how that sits. Wow! He says, unfortunately, there is not a lot of literature on how activity affects my relatively rare problem. Maybe he can get a journal article out of it!

(3) He doesn’t want me spending any time at 10,000 feet in the near future (sorry Browers) but it’s ok to go to Idyllwild and he sees no reason we should cancel our long-planned anniversary trip to Europe this summer. Hooray!

We had prayed for hope and a good relationship with a doctor we can trust. He made sure we met his chief nurse, who said she’d be available to talk at any time. I’m sure he would, as well. We are a bit emotionally drained but feel that the course has shifted. While we have not lived in fear and our anxiety level has been extremely low, we have felt a heavy burden. That burden is not gone but today was the first day since the beginning where we are confident we have the information we need to go forward effectively AND there is a plan that makes sense.

Simply, our hope barometer just shot up!

Thank you, all. Thank you, Jesus.

Love,

Brad and Diane

Thank you, everyone, for your continuing prayers and messages of encouragement, especially as we prepare for our meeting with the top doc today at 2.

Most of you have been praying for healing, which is terrific! That blessed artery is just waiting to get fixed!! If you read this before 2, please also pray for hope.

I’m big on hope. I may have mentioned before, that when pressed, I’m a self-described realist who is nearly always inclined to hope. And, that’s where we are today. It would be great to emerge from the consultation with that sense.

Lastly, here’s the thing on hope. It can spring from the most unexpected places. While we don’t truly know what we’ll hear today, we will always drink from the wellspring of hope.

Blessings,

Brad

A friend wrote me to say he felt called to get into the canoe but that he hadn’t. He seems to want to. Which makes sense, since he feels the tug. I can relate.

And the thing about this friend, he’s one of the truly great people. Loving, giving, as in the shirt off his back giving, humble, values the truly important things in life. Whip-smart, well-read. Some would say he got in that canoe a long long time ago. But, he doesn’t seem to think so. I get that.

I wrote about this topic briefly at the very beginning of this little journey. As in, sometimes we just need to surrender. This particular challenge I’m facing would qualify.

It’s axiomatic that there are no atheists in foxholes. “I give up! I can’t stand it! I’ll do anything if you just make this cease!”

But, what about the other times? What about when things are not at flood stage crisis?

Why on earth should we leave solid ground? Especially to enter a journey we can’t Google Earth or map with perfect waypoints and precision? That’s just crazy. Or irresponsible. Or illogical. Good points. Glad you mentioned it.

When we have nothing left, there is no alternative to surrender. I’m starving. Hurt. Lost. All tapped out. This is the plight of the Prodigal in Luke 15. I’m a Jew eating with pigs after squandering my father’s money on prostitutes and all sorts of heinous things. Think about it. A Jew eating with pigs, violating multiple commandments that have structured his people’s lives forever. Tapped out. There is no tomorrow.

“But, hey”, says the regular person, ” I’m not the Prodigal. I’m doing ok. Maybe not dancing on the roof tops ok. Maybe more muddling than ok but I’m doing ok. Maybe I’m doing better than ok.  Maybe I look around and life is actually pretty good. I’m healthy. Own my home with a mortgage that doesn’t strangle me. My kids are not addicted to narcotics or in prison. I have a spouse I actually like. My job isn’t perfect but what job is? Or, maybe I have a job I love and that is fulfilling. My kids are unbelievably successful. I can fill the Christmas card letter with their accomplishments. I have no debilitating ailments. I get to take trips to exotic locations. Sure, I’ll die someday but that’s then and this is now.”

“I hear this surrender thing and it makes no sense. Or, maybe I can sort of grasp it in some vague theoretical way but come on. Tell me, again, what exactly am I supposed to surrender? And, why should I do that? And, then what happens?”

The last thing I’d want to do is to communicate some holier than thou message. We’ll get to this in a little bit but surrender is more than a one time event. I do believe it’s a one time event but that’s just the beginning. The launch pad. Then the journey in surrender begins.

Has there been a more countercultural idea presented?

Believers (I use that word to describe others who believe that Jesus is God and not just a manifestation of God or a moral teacher, etc…) struggle with this as much as anyone. I have given workshops with my dear friend, Geoff, on Jesus’ story of the father, straying younger brother and rule-following elder brother. We’ve actually role played the part. Geoff always asked, tongue in cheek, why he had to play the elder brother! “Why does Brad get to play the younger brother who experienced the shower of grace?” I used to reply that he would never want to be the younger brother before he received the shower of grace.

It is very, very hard to surrender when we have it going for us. This is as hard for believers as for those who do not subscribe to a Christian understanding of reality.

Dallas Willard, a giant of the faith, said that the vast majority of Christians are what he called “bar code Christians.” They accept Jesus as Lord and bingo, they’re guaranteed entrance into heaven. Sure, we should probably follow some rules and do some good deeds in the meantime but our faith has saved us. Period. What else is there to surrender? He had quite a lot to say on that.

Furthermore, surrender is very un-American. Have any of our heroes surrendered? No, they give it all. They fight the good fight til the bitter end, whether victory or defeat. We are bred to climb and push and battle and to ignore suffering. My father, the Marine, used to ask me the same question all of the time when I was a fairly new principal. I had a tough staff. A really tough staff. Old and entrenched, many of whom couldn’t comprehend changing their practice. At all. A few of the more powerful ones seemed to be working overtime to get rid of me or at least make my life insufferable. My dad would listen on the phone to my tales of woe and would then say, “Bradley, are the odds against you worse than 100:1?” Hearing my silence or a humble “No,” he could always say, “Well then, you’ve got them right where you want them!” And, he’d laugh and I would feel better.

Confession: I like the heroes and the heroic stories. I don’t like surrendering without a fight, if it’s the right fight. Further confession: I believe life is about a fight. There is a battle … or many battles … and we ARE called to persevere.

So, what’s the distinction? What is it that we should give up and how do we do that if we’re looking around and can’t really see the enemy at the gates?

Control.

As in, “I got this.” All of the time. I can manage it on my own. My life is my own and my job is to ensure that the rest of the world conforms to my wishes. My spouse. My kids. My employees. My health. My community. My club. My church.

Many Christians like to say God is in control. And, I won’t argue with them. The problem is that there are a whole lot of Christians who then go about trying to control others in their own image. I’m not immune to this and neither are atheists or practitioners of many other faiths. I can’t afford to go off on a tangent right now but I’ll just say that a moral relativism which abdicates responsibility for definitively stating right and wrong is just as bad.

Control goes deeper than the way we try to control our environment. The most insidious control is when we allow things to control us. Things that do not have our best interest in mind. Things that, in and of themselves, aren’t necessarily bad. I spoke of them as alternative rivers several days ago.

All of us have idols. They are the things that draw the greatest bandwidth from our minds and hearts. No one is immune. All are pursued as a search for fulfillment. Is the quest for wealth or wisdom every satiated? Are those our gods? What happens when the children move out and on? Does that leave a large hole that is tough to fill? I’ll repeat what I implied a couple of days ago: Working at a good job and providing a good income is a very good thing. Devotion to family is a good thing. Acquiring knowledge and attaining wisdom is a good thing. But, when we place ultimate value in any of these or of so many other things, that is not a good thing.

This is why the Gospel is so radical. It is not about acquisition (skills, accomplishments, heaven). It’s about submission. (Letting down the defenses. Acknowledging weakness. Asking for forgiveness for the things we’ve done and continue to do that we recognize as wrong, overly judgmental, insensitive, mean-spirited.) The surrender is living in the space that seeks to replace these things with minds focused on the needs of others as well as hearts that grow in the capacity to love. The surrender is recognizing that the heavens and the earth have intersected and that we can live more fully into that heavenly dimension in this life. But, we can’t do it without giving up control. We can’t do it unless we’re willing to be transparent and at least somewhat vulnerable. Yes, we run the risk of appearing weak when, in fact, new found strength is built on rock and not on sand. We can’t do it alone. We need to be in community with others.

There’s a reason Jesus was followed by people called disciples. Put simply, disciples are students who seek to learn from the teacher and who have committed to disciplined practice. Learners do not stay in the same place. They can look rearwards and see that they have grown and changed in the ways that matter. They are fundamentally transformed as time passes.

Surrender is saying, “I want what you have. I sense or know that it is better than what I have right now.” With reference to the story of the Prodigal, the elder brother sees nothing better than what he has right now. He only fears loss. He thinks he has it all. In fact, the father tells him he’s right. Just not  in the way the elder son sees it. He is blind and one can sense that breaks the father’s heart. The parable ends as it should.

Which brings us back to the problem of surrender. We have a number of ways to look at the plight and outcome of the younger brother. We can delight that a truly broken person is raised up, forgiven and loved. Or, we can say his plight is of no real concern to me. We can choose to think that we are completely dissimilar or that, in fact, the only difference between the two of us is maybe a matter of a few degrees. “There but for the grace of God, goeth I.” And, we have a number of ways to look at the plight and outcome of the elder brother. We can urge him to open his heart and to forgive like we do. We can bemoan his stark and judgmental posture. We can nod knowingly that he may be missing the boat altogether. Or, we can look inwards and go, I see myself. “There but for the grace of God, goeth I.”

Our friend, Pat, is pondering the relationship between surrender and obedience. I would say that the question is what are we surrendering that exercises control over us in ways (if we search deeply) we recognize as ultimately not fulfilling? And, to what or whom are we offering obedience in its/their place? Anyone who thinks that he or she is master of the universe has a rude awakening coming. Unfortunately, it’s in our nature to live that fiction. On the other hand, it’s also in our nature to submit to the ultimate truth.

Finally, surrender is not a one time thing. There may be a profound moment or event. A singular recognition and choice. But, it’s a daily thing that requires constant attention. Sometimes two steps forward and one backwards. Or vice versa. Everywhere we look, things beckon that argue against fidelity to the Person and things that are the most fulfilling. This is another reason that the kind of life that is offered is not easy. It requires commitment and community. It requires a vision of what is being offered and allowing it in. It is then a matter of seeking the means, which abound. This is the river. Yes, it’s about saying, “I will step into that canoe. One time. And I will stay in this canoe every day.” The river beckons. It’s an unbelievable ride. I don’t know a person who has chosen to enter that canoe who regrets it for a second.

Jesus says, in Matthew 11:28-30, “Come to me all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

We’re all yoked to something. Period.

Most of us have heard this beautiful song many times. It’s a song of surrender and redemption. Of blindness and sight. Of battles and peace. Of the deepest pits and the greatest joy. If you’re unfamiliar with the circumstances behind the composer, John Newton, it’s worth checking out. I can never get enough of the lyrics or its many renditions. It’s probably my favorite song.

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me,
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind, but now, I see.

T’was Grace that taught…
my heart to fear.
And Grace, my fears relieved.
How precious did that Grace appear…
the hour I first believed.

Through many dangers, toils and snares…
I have already come.
Tis Grace has brought me safe thus far…
and Grace will lead me home.

The Lord has promised good to me…
His word my hope secures.
He will my shield and portion be…
as long as life endures.

When we’ve been there ten thousand years…
bright shining as the sun.
We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise…
than when we’ve first begun.

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me….
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind, but now, I see.

God bless all of you and thank you for listening.

The day dawned bright and clear. Early morning crispness and gusty Santa Anas giving way to warmth we haven’t had in recent weeks. Gentle breezes. Some hummingbirds and butterflies. The house quickly filled with movement as Carol, Jack, Pam, Janet, and Mary arose, grabbed coffee and yogurt and began the chatter and laughter that is their nature. Later, Mary’s son Lene and our sons Ross and Lee made it a full house. In the meantime, I received a very nice visit from brother Grant, who tried to figure out how we shoehorned everyone in. He and I had a long and good conversation about his work envisioning the future of education in our country. He plans to start his third book soon and has graciously asked for my input.

Rewinding the tape to about 4am and lying awake … my first thoughts going to dear friend Shannon. For those of you who do not know her, Shannon faithfully leads our “Little Band of Believers,” the name we call our weekly Friday morning prayer/worship group that began over two years ago with Susan’s diagnosis of a brain tumor. Shannon’s spirit and love always radiate beautifully and she is a rock upon which we’ve built Team Susan that now spreads outwards as was intended two millennia ago. Shannon received some distressing news about her health late Friday, which followed some symptoms she shared with us earlier that day. We await clarification from new doctors early in the week. Moments are fragile things and we need to grasp them fully. Whether you know Shannon or not, please pray for her and her family. People wonder what church is. Church gets a bad name in some quarters and deservedly so. Friday morning is an example of church. The way church is designed to be. In that sense, I belong to six churches, in community with others, woven into my fabric of life, one of which has a building. Each one is special in its own way. What a blessing Friday morning is. We love you, Shannon!

Rewinding even further and speaking of another church … Yesterday afternoon I spent a couple of hours immersed in the Emmaus Community, which was conducting its third of four full days of an experience for some 30 senior citizens. Tough to find a more loving place than an Emmaus event. Several dozen of us spent about an hour worshipping and praying individually for those going through the weekend, in another place on the campus. Then we briefly joined the larger group in a beautiful ceremony, coming together afterwards for a surprise laying of hands on someone they cared for. Namely, me. Three dozen sets of hands and deep prayer. Words of love and healing. Yes, tears flowed but, for me, they were tears of joy to be so embraced and lifted up. Thank you, Emmaus!

Tomorrow, most of us will go to Sunday worship at our formal church in Rancho Bernardo. We will join with many hundreds of others who dedicate a piece of the weekend to coming together in fellowship to let the truths contained in words and music envelop us and help us navigate the river I spoke of yesterday. Perhaps I’ll talk more about this thing called church another day. I believe it is cause of way too much that is wrong with our world while it is cause for so much that is right.

But, I’ll tell you something about tomorrow. You see, once a month in the particular denomination of the Christian faith we’re currently associated with, we celebrate communion. Some denominations, namely Catholics and Episcopalians, among others, celebrate communion weekly. Others do it less frequently than we or not at all. Even in my decades of struggle with faith, communion held some pull. Setting aside theological interpretations of what exactly it is, it definitely is one of the great symbols for those who follow Jesus.

Communion is our connection to Jesus at his most fundamental level. It is our connection to who he was and what he meant. It is the beautiful, deep, resonate last act he chose to share with his followers. It was the summation of his ministry just before dying. It is a call to the deepest places within us. A reminder that this life is hardly as it may seem. That we need to be in touch with those deep places, where brokenness and salvation go hand in glove.

Some years ago, Diane was ordained as a deacon and I was ordained as an elder. Those are church terms that neither Diane or I pay too much attention to. Aside from exercising some responsibility for facilitating the work of our large congregation, this allows us to serve communion. We’ve been doing that for a number of years now. For us, that means, after the pastor briefly retells the story of the Last Supper and blesses the bread and wine, Diane and I walk forward to receive the platters. Lines form and I dispense the bread, while Diane dispenses the wine (juice), with words as to their meaning. For us, this is incredibly special. All of these people. Young, old, of all ethnicities, partaking in an act that I believe transcends symbolism, and connects billions of people through the ages. I sometimes just shake my head that I have a chance to do this thing.

Tomorrow afternoon, everyone leaves and Diane and I return to life with the two of us for now. A life which we love. We look forward to joining former student, Sally, and her mother, Konnie, for dinner tomorrow night. We also look forward with anticipation to Tuesday afternoon with the next doctor. We are so grateful for all of you. As you pray and support us, please let us know how we can pray for and support you.

Thank you, Kathleen, for your comment on yesterday’s post. It’s the perfect segue to today! In a way, this is Part II.

I had a great conversation late yesterday with an old childhood friend, Chip Fisher, older brother of my good friend, Shack. (Those of you who do not know the Fisher family … our closest friends growing up … may want to know that the five children are named Rick, Chip, Shack, Skeet, and Tup. Well, except for Rick, the others have “real” names but no one has ever used them.) Anyway, Chip recently changed course from being senior pastor of a church to being a chaplain. A long time ago, he changed course from being a Catholic to a Protestant. And, from being the nation’s #1 16 year old tennis player and NCAA champion at Stanford to joining the ministry.

I, too, have changed course. If you had asked me when I was 17 or 18 what my future would have been like, I might have said something like, “I won’t live to see it because I’ll be killed for standing up for something I believe in.” I won’t bore you with the major course corrections but I count at least five or six. And, these are the big ones.

Or, are they really major course corrections?

One of the benefits of growing old (well, I guess I’m not really THAT old!), is the gaining of perspective. History, of course, is all about perspective and we can see all sorts of things that are not available to us during the particular moment or period. Perspective tends to be a good thing, although greatly under appreciated.

Which brings us to the River. Kathleen, a friend and saint (she really will not like that second descriptor but some who know her well will concur), woke up with the call to head down to the river for living water. As a fellow follower of Jesus, I know this is a reference to Jesus’ call to himself, as the living water, the life-giving sustenance. But, the call to the river has another dimension to it besides that. It is the call to leave the solid ground at a particular place and to embark on a journey. And, that’s something we don’t want to misunderstand.

Whatever our life-giving sustenance is … and that’s something I’ve been sharing these past few weeks and I hope those of you reading this are joining me in that discernment … we have a choice. I guess this is another Door A/Door B thing.

Door A says “This is my life. This is what there is. Let me make the most of it. I hope I’m basically a good person in the process and leave the world having contributed something of consequence.” In my mind, Door A is a choice to see life as basically coming to grips with circumstances and doing one’s best to manage them. There’s not necessarily a direction. Perhaps it includes building up defenses to change and there’s an adversity to taking risks. Door A involves protection and security.

Door B says, “I know there’s something more and in order to discover and experience that something more, I need to launch myself out there. Leave comfort and security behind and take a risk.”

Of course, at various points in our lives, we may find we choose going through one door or the other.

It will come as no surprise that I’d like to concentrate on Door B. Because this is where it gets interesting.

As Diane shared in our early time together this morning, many of us view the river bank as solid ground and fret about getting in that current, not exactly sure where it’s leading. But, she continued, that solid ground is a fiction. In fact, it’s not. We frequently build our security and defenses on sand, not rock. She makes a major point on this and calls our attention to the posture of the elder brother in the parable of the prodigal. But, having said that, let’s assume that we’re ready to leave the safety of the river bank and enter onto the river in a canoe. I pick a canoe because it is a balance between being at the mercy of the current, while also requiring effort in the form of mind, muscles and paddles (propulsion and steering).

But, we need to pause for a moment. It’s not that easy. I’ll argue that we’re actually at the confluence of a number of rivers, all flowing outwards from the bank where we stand. That is, if we’re Door B people. So, this is our second choice. Which river? How do we choose? And, how significant is our choice?

It all comes back to those things presented in an earlier post. What do we value the most? From where do we draw our meaning? What are our priorities? For instance, if we value Knowledge over everything else (or its close cousin, Wisdom), then we will choose a river which feeds our heads and we can call it Intellect. If we value Wealth Accumulation over everything else, we will choose a river named Prosperity. If we value Service to Others above all else, we may choose a river named Works. If we choose our Job or our Children above all else, we will probably choose a river named Idolatry. Now, the headwaters of any of these rivers may not look particularly different than any of the others. In fact, a few miles down each stream may display similar flora and fauna. But, I believe a great distance down any one as opposed to another, will display significant differences. I should know.

Here is where they are the same. All rivers in this life present beautiful vistas and moments and all present terrible challenges. For those of us fortunate enough to be born into the West in this age, we have the wherewithal to feel things like happiness or the pride in accomplishment on a regular basis. Most of us do not suffer regular deprivations of life’s basic necessities and most of us are not in imminent danger of violent attack on us or our loved ones. So, to a great degree, each river will bring us moments when we say, this is good. Unfortunately, each river will also bring moments of grief, sorrow and pain. Try as we might, each river will always present these challenges. And, on occasion, most of us will feel those challenges as enormous burdens. For some, we might try to postpone the moments as we age but few escape an experience of deep suffering.

But, let’s move beyond that and get back to how to choose and, eventually, can we pick a different one as hard as that may seem?

Is there anything wrong with intellect or prosperity or service or focus on job or children? I certainly don’t believe so. But, all can be traps. Big traps. When the neon sign at the headwaters of that river beckons in bright lights and makes great promises, we believe that at journey’s end we will be fulfilled. As in, really fulfilled.

Probably the greatest intellect I’ve ever known personally in more than a cursory way is a good example. His knowledge sometime defied my comprehension. Literature, the Arts, Music, History. His IQ was probably off the charts. He was also a gifted teacher and professor whose students lapped up his knowledge as disciples at the feet of the master. I was not immune to that as I lived with him for awhile as a young man. While he cared and, I think, loved, he was often distant and prone to reclusiveness. Ultimately, he is a widowed man with thirty years of broken relationships with his two sons. He is 95 and has been alone, by his choice, for many years. No friends or family to speak of. His is one of the saddest endings of any life I can imagine.

When Jesus talked about a heaven being as unavailable to a rich man as it is difficult for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle, he wasn’t blasting the rich. In fact, he counted among his disciples and followers some wealthy landowners and successful tradespeople. No, his was a warning to all of us. In fact heaven (which he said … and this is REALLY important … has come to earth and the thing he called the Kingdom of God is available right now) is impossible when our top priority is these things listed above. When we are suckered into choosing one of those rivers mentioned, we trust our salvation (delivery from the hollowness of life) to something that lacks true fulfillment.

In fact, there is a river that offers prosperity of a kind that is maybe not what the world would term prosperous. Do we not know people of very modest means who lack for nothing and seem to exhibit joy? That river offers incomparable knowledge. It’s a knowledge that may be built on the giants of intellect, the great artists, the sages, our wise mentors but knowledge is a byproduct of the river, not its destination. There is a river that deeply values our need to work, be creative, and produce. There is a river that recognizes that we are not alone and that others need our help in so many ways and we should really pay attention to that. There is a river that teaches us to deeply love others, especially our spouses and children. There is a river that says we are infinitely valuable as distinct beings yet need to place others before self.

To paraphrase C.S. Lewis in The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, this river is not safe but it’s good.

No, it’s not safe. And, it’s not easy. Getting in takes a whole heck of a lot of trust. Trust because its promise is not the promise we hear from the neon and compelling signs over the other rivers. Its promise is different. In fact, different from any other promise. Like the others, it promises a destination that seems inviting to many on its surface. But, it would be a mistake to take that at face value. Because unlike material wealth, a successful job, a keen mind, a devoted spouse or children, this destination is clouded in mist and we hardly know it.

Somehow, we get in the canoe. Sitting in the stern, we paddle out into the current, ready to begin the journey. Our paddle acts as our decision-maker that governs speed and direction. It is artificial propulsion and rudder. It is hard to submit to the current when it is rapid. It is hard to paddle for lengthy times when the river barely meanders. We face rapids, underwater obstructions, overhanging trees and even threatening people on the shore that shout at us that we’re off course. “This is the wrong river! What are you doing? Do you really believe in this? Come on. Get back to one of those other rivers. You know, the important ones!”

There are real dangers. Class 6 rapids. How do I survive those? Can I just go over? Can I find the strength to portage the canoe and my supplies around it?

And, how do I navigate? Am I alone on this? No guide? How do I read the signs? Of course, this river has many little offshoots. Some even aren’t little. How do I know which fork to take? For goodness sakes, I stepped off the bank on the basis of a promise. A different promise than all of the other promises. This distant land that is drawing me closer still makes me feel lost a lot of the time. Yes, it seems that the beauty is increasing as I travel. The moments more fulfilling. The rapids that used to frighten me feel a bit less threatening. There are times my heart seems to burst with a joy I never before thought possible. I don’t want that to end. But it does and the next Class 6 beckons. I face it with just that much more confidence than the last time. Less fear and anxiety. How does this happen and what can I expect?

My river has a sign over it that says, Destination: Eternal Life in the Presence of Our Loving God.

And my guide, of course, is Jesus. He is crystal clear on who God is, who he is and who we are. He is crystal clear on God’s nature and character and his plan for us. He paints a picture of our destination in many, many ways. We just have to have eyes to see and ears to hear.

The river has another sign, just slightly downstream from the first one. This second one is the name of the river itself. It actually isn’t just the name. It is the river. The river’s name is Jesus.

As Kathleen said at the outset, this river is alive. It’s the only river that is actually living. It is the giver and sustainer of life. In that, it contains the map and all of the resources we need to manage the journey. All of them. In fact, the journey is not possible without those resources.

And, here’s the thing. If I look back upstream, to consider how I’ve changed during this journey, there is no way I would reverse course. The proof is in the moment. Despite a present hardship, trust has replaced fear and anxiety. Maybe not perfectly but monumentally so. Those voices don’t resonate. Their hold is fleeting. The river IS alive and it breathes life into me.

We have one last topic to cover. And, that’s the issue of what to do if we find out we’ve been sold a bill of goods. That our life is not as fulfilling as we’d hoped. That we headed down a certain river and see that it might have been better had we been born with different talents or had not been drawn so strongly to certain promises. What do we do if we find ourselves at a point in life when we think we’ve missed out. We regret decisions or the way things are turning out. But, we think it’s too late to change. We’re too far down this particular river or we’re just really afraid of stepping off the bank.

Well, here’s the good news. Here’s the Gospel (literally, Good News). There’s this amazing and miraculous force called Grace. And, Grace is like a cosmic worm hole that straddles galaxies, a supernatural bridge that spans unimaginably large spaces. It transports us from one river to another that aren’t just a few miles apart (although it can do that) but to one in another country altogether. And, that grace is available at any time. Any time at all. It’s free. It covers all regrets. All choices. It offers transformation now and forevermore. All we need to do is ask. I’m proof.

Lord, thank you for grace. Thank you for showing me the river, complete with a shiny canoe that is a counterpoint to my somewhat battered body. Thank you for living water that is my guide and companion. Thank you for the adventures on the way and how you are teaching me to be more like the person you designed me to be. Thank you, that you never lose faith in me. While I can’t see the destination with the crystal clarity that I eventually will, I can see it well enough. It is glorious, just as moments in some of my days are glorious and evidence that heaven has broken through to this earth. I love you. Amen.

I plead guilty.

I know the way to hear God. I mean I really think I do. It’s not rocket science. Yes, there are times (even very lengthy ones) in the lives of believers, when God seems distant or even absent altogether.  But, I’m not talking about those times. I’m talking about the other times. The normal day to day times that define the vast majority of our existence.

Now, a lot of us who believe in a personal God spend anywhere from a little bit of time to a whole lot of time talking to him. As in, I do the talking and your job is to do the listening. Of course, in that operational model, his job is to either speak back directly or enact a solution (as quickly as possible) to whatever dilemma we’ve chosen to share with him. As if he didn’t already know.

I’m aware, through personal experience and the expressed experiences of others, that people who do not necessarily buy into the concept of a personal God, also direct thoughts or wishes to a spirit or force outside of themselves. My point here is that the overwhelming majority of people in this world seek a relationship with the supernatural that involves a lot of directed conversation.

In return, as I just said, we expect an appropriate response.

People a whole lot wiser than I have characterized this operational model as making God akin to the genie in the bottle or a personal valet.

The net effect of this, I believe, is disappointment and even anger or resentment. The net effect of this, also, is to make God in man’s image, not the reverse.

I’ve been wanting to get into this a bit since starting this little exercise. But part way through last night’s discussion in our regular Wednesday small group it sort of crystalized for me. As I’ve mentioned before, we’re working our way through A.W. Tozer’s The Pursuit of God and spent our time in a chapter that centered on listening. As always, a lively discussion! One of the members, Tony, is also in my Monday morning group and we spent many months a year ago exploring Dallas Willard’s Hearing God. Think there’s a theme here?

Once again, I plead guilty. Hearing God or listening to God is easier said than done. What’s going on here and why does it matter?

Starting from the premise that the whole thing is about relationship and that relationship is a two way street, is there more traffic going in one direction than the other? I mean, how long can that last? I’m going out on a limb here to very briefly touch on the subject of prayer. I hope briefly.

We are called to pray. But, what is the purpose of prayer and why do so many of us feel we deserve at best a C+ average? Sure, sometimes we feel in the zone, especially when we’re in a prayer group. Sometimes, I’ve experienced God’s presence so viscerally in those situations that I felt immobilized and couldn’t even open my eyes for quite a bit after the time was up. However, what is our experience like when we’re alone, praying? I’m sure each of can testify that we do a lot of asking and we do a whole lot of wondering why it’s so hard to focus when our minds want to wander everywhere. Anyone else think they have hamsters on that little wheel in our brains, running at full speed? We talked about that last night.

For many of us, we talk to God, tell him our concerns, thank him for his blessings and ask him for guidance. Some of us are better at this than others. I have a friend, who is too humble for me to mention his name here, that may have missed like two or three mornings in the last fifteen years when he has not started his day in extended prayer. That’s a discipline I guess I wish I had but have not developed. Diane is more adept at this than I.  Nearly every morning, she sets aside considerable time to the practice of devotion. While working, she had less time than she has now but she has always been disciplined in that respect. I like the word “devotion” because it encompasses more than our normal concept of prayer. “Prayer” has a conscious or subconscious connotation of the lane towards God as opposed to the lane from God. Technically, prayer is both but I don’t believe that’s how most of us practice it.

If the point is relationship … and I really believe that IS the point, than how do we receive God? How do we know his will for us? If the character of God is, in large part, unconditional love (often delivered through the medium of grace), in what way can we translate that so that our lives are a reflection of his character (which is one of the main reasons Jesus walked this earth). Speaking of Jesus, he spent a whole lot of time and energy speaking to his muddled disciples (read: people like me), describing what living within the will of God is like. Of course, he told parable after parable to try to unlock their presumptions about who God is and what he wants for us. Honestly, I can’t find any illogic in any of them, although they are almost all counterintuitive to how our culture teaches us to live. Logical and counterintuitive. That’s cognitive dissonance for you!

Sorry. Getting a little off track.

Here is where this is going. If God is personal and seeks a relationship with us and his will (intent) for us is to reflect his character, than it seems natural that we give at least equal time to listening to him as talking to him. But, that’s a problem, of course, because we know what we’re saying (either aloud or in our thoughts) but he can be a little hard to locate given he’s naturally invisible to us. In the obvious sense. So, how do we hear? What are we listening for? How do we know his will?

This is where we arrive at “this is not rocket science.” We need to be quiet. Period. Cut out the noise. Cut out the chatter. Cut out all of the stuff that creates static on the God radio.

Some practitioners of eastern faiths and Christian mystics are quite adept at this. Much of modern Christianity has kind of frowned on this for a variety of reasons but I’m a believer in its validity. Because I’ve found it works, even though I’m nowhere near being a poster child in this department.

Here is an image that helps me and it serves two purposes. First, a story. One summer in college, some friends and I decided to go on a canoe trip on a river in northern California. We didn’t have a canoe and needed two of them. Eventually, we found two that we could borrow/rent on the side of a riverbank, next to a house. We cut the deal, stashed our stuff and headed downstream. Being adventurous and not level headed college guys, we did not have any real idea of what we’d find on the river but had a general idea of where it would end … at this big reservoir a couple of days downstream. No map. I remember going down the river and watching the banks as the current led us. Fortunately, no cataracts, just a nice trip where we steered this way and that, staying in the current, trusting the flow and appreciating the moments.

My friend, Ken, asks the question, “What is a river without banks?” The answer is “a big puddle.” I resonated with this a few years ago and began to reimagine being in God’s will as being in that canoe. There’s a flow with a direction. I don’t always know the direction but I trust the flow. It feels right. I can see the boundaries and they tell me a lot. There are rocks and brambles and obstacles to be navigated but there is also great beauty and deep peace. I remember the quiet in that canoe, even though we were college guys. We’d go a ways without talking. We could hear the crickets, birds, and frogs. See the sunlight on the trees, appreciate the dragon flies darting over the water’s surface.

Sometimes, we ask God for answers to specific questions or for information on how to make a specific decision. There is no problem with that. In fact he knows our question or request before we do. But, I find myself asking more for trust in him to see if the river is headed in the right direction or if, perhaps, I went off on the wrong fork and need to disembark, portage over, and get back on the right course. “Please show me the path you’d like me to take, Lord. I trust that path to help me make good decisions that reflect what you want for me.”

For me, the only way I can know the path is to be quiet and to discern. Filter out the noise. If I were a baseball player, I’d probably be in Single A. Nowhere close to the majors but no longer in Little League.

Yes, I have heard God’s voice. No doubt in my mind. Rock solid. Came in the left side of my head that made me even look in that direction. Very specific. No room for maneuvering, although I tried that for a split second. The brief conversation between the two of us also left no room for misinterpretation. It was as real as anything I’ve ever experienced. This was no hallucination or subconscious mental game. The data up to and after that has proven itself beyond any doubt. Of course, lots of people say that God tells them this or that. Perhaps.

I have “heard” God many times since then. None with such force as that one. But, I can’t remember a time when I received what I felt was the call or message from God that it proved not to be true. And, almost all of the time, it arrived when the button on the send/receive two way radio was set to receive. The squelch button was engaged. At very few of these times was I asking for a sign of his presence or an answer to a specific question. Maybe that’s just me and you have had different experiences. Most often, a “message” invades my consciousness as a kind of urge to act or take a direction. Sometimes it’s an answer (often delayed) to a request for direction, rather than a solution. On most occasions, the message is short and to the point. As in, “you need to focus your priorities on these two things.” Countless people have described this phenomenon as the Still Small Voice. Not sure where that name came from but there is just a ton of concrete testimony as to its nature. And, I go through periods where that dimension of God’s delivery system seems to be on fairly frequently. As in, “Really, God, you’re urging me to do that? I didn’t ask for that. I don’t really feel like I want to do that. I think this just my imagination and I’m going to ignore it.” Interestingly, I haven’t had the occasion to keep ignoring it without the message arriving a bit more bluntly and forcefully, which teaches me two certain lessons. (A) God wins in the end and so do I and (B) It wasn’t so hard after all or (C) We both lose. After a lot of this over time, even a knuckle head like me begins to get the picture.

Now, someone could argue that this is just a simple cognitive process that has no divine connection. Perhaps. But, here’s the catch …

Put together, all of these messages have led me in a direction that would have been inconceivable fifteen years ago and I have the same intellect and cognitive abilities. I mean, completely inconceivable. And, not only that, but they have produced a life that is different than I could have imagined or hoped for. In many ways, they cut against the grain of most that I had learned previously about the nature of reality.

So, why does quiet matter? The static is the stuff we throw up, based upon priorities we hold to be more important than just plain listening to God and resting in his will. Religious stuff? Perhaps. Is the yoke hard? Maybe. But it certainly beats the alternative. In fact it’s as light as getting into a canoe and heading down a stream. Of course, I have a hard time with this frequently. Hence the guilty plea. But, my inner sense knows what to do. I need help all of the time, which is one thing I ask him for. And, slowly but surely, there is movement.

Three biblical verses come to mind. The first if from Matthew 6:6. “But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen.” In other words, be alone. The second is from Luke 5:16. “But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed.” The third is from Mark 1:35. “Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place where he prayed.” Jesus, of course was a very busy guy but he needed his quiet time … to settle the buzz and just be in the presence.

Now, more than ever, I love listening. I love to be surprised. I love when the need to do gives way to just being still. The doing will come, no doubt about it. There is work that needs accomplishing. There’s a world of opportunity to act. He knows my needs and a big part of my job is to just trust him. While some may disagree, I believe the outcome is decided and for good reason.

Two weeks ago, I had no thought to share these kinds of things. First came the urge. Then came the clear message. Both occurred while I was in silence. When things were very quiet. During this whole last month, I’ve felt in the canoe and my job is to stay the course, appreciate the ride, rely on the current when my arms tire of paddling, trust in his soft voice, his comfort and love.

If you haven’t stopped reading yet (I wouldn’t blame you), I have one last thing to say and then an update.

These words I’ve been typing and posting are my reply to God. They are my love letters to him. They aren’t just that, of course, as they are other things too. But, they are that. They most assuredly are that.

Lord, thank you for loving me and encouraging me to get to know you. Thank you for helping to unplug my ears and take the scales away from my eyes. Thank you for softening my heart and creating a better balance between my heart and mind. Thank you for the quiet times. By the way, I need help with those because it’s often hard and I don’t do a particularly good job of settling down. Please help me to see the path, the flow and the banks that define the course that is your will and desire for me. Forgive me when I am blind or stray or ignore you. Which is too often, I’m afraid. Thank you for that. Amen.

OK. A brief health update. Monday night and most of Tuesday was pretty tough. Fortunately, by late Tuesday evening, I was doing much better, although fairly wiped out. Am back to where I was about a week ago. Steady on. Looking forward to the upcoming doctor’s appointment. Diane and I can hardly express our gratitude for your phone calls, emails, texts, prayers, and love. I’m not sure anyone is as fortunate as we are.

God bless,

Thank you, one and all, for your emails, texts, and phone calls today, as I turn 62. My heart is lifted with each one! I’ve shared the old worn out joke, since my early teaching days, that the network TV trucks are jammed in our neighborhood, waiting to see if this groundhog emerges with a shadow or not. Well, today, of course, there is a shadow, albeit a cold one, so that makes for a longer winter for we San Diegans. El Nino, anyone?

Well, the good news of clearing the hurdle to be seen by the next doc has been tempered somewhat, I’m sorry to say. But, this journal/blog is about transparency, with the good and bad of life. Unfortunately, I took a bit of a turn for the worse last night. By about 9, I had the worst headache to date. Not migraine level (I don’t get migraines), but it was centered behind my right eye and was definitely uncomfortable, to say the least. Made it through the night on Tylenol but it had not abated by morning. We’re monitoring it closely, although I’m not in a place to say its urgent. Was laying in a dark room quietly, praying and listening to some beautiful music, when I felt called to write. Probably not the best idea, what with looking at a laptop screen, so this may come in bits and pieces.

How do people do this alone? They do, I know, either by circumstances or choice. I’m so not alone, I might as well be in the middle of Grand Central Station. Except everywhere I look I don’t see crowds of faceless disconnected people bustling about. I see smiles and laughter and outstretched arms. Full hearts. Giving and loving. It’s like a party! However we might think of heaven or life after death, this has to be one of the clues … a connecting rod with that other reality. I’ll put on my preaching hat and say that we are created to be in relationship as God (Father, Son and Holy Spirit) is in relationship. Others are welcome to question that theology or its main point here. But, my lifetime of experience only increases my conviction as I grow older. What is a feast? It is a celebration of a great thing. I feast on the knowledge that I am wholly loved by God and maybe just slightly less wholly loved by so many others!

I will share the lyrics to my favorite song of the last year in a moment. I mentioned it in a previous post. But, before I do, my heart and prayers went out awhile ago to three friends, each whom are suffering far more debilitating physical issues that I.  One has suffered for many, many years. The other two, perhaps in the last two or three years. Each is around my age or slightly younger. All three have diseases that are basically incurable, with varying degrees of implication for mortality and quality of life in the meantime. All three have a deep and abiding faith and love of God. They follow Jesus through thick and thin. While they might face some dark times, each radiates joy. I know they suffer terribly at times, but I haven’t heard what can be called a complaint. I am humbled by their example.

While my situation is different in some respect,it is similar in others. I would say that none of the four of us could be called stoical. I use stoic in the sense of enduring hardship without showing feeling. Almost, “I can tough it out, don’t you worry!” No, I think it’s more in line with Jesus’ teachings on suffering and faith and how to live one’s life regardless of the circumstances. We are called to be aware of our broken places, our weak places (if anyone says they don’t have them, I’d say that’s an example that you do … sorry), while we are similarly called to employ our gifts which are manifestations of our strength. It’s that weak/strong dichotomy that defines human existence in this life. And,when the weak side raises up its head abnormally high, the question is, what to do about it?

Here are the lyrics to Hillsong United’s “Oceans (Where Feet May Fail).”  Feel free to get it through iTunes or Spotify or to YouTube it.

Just got off the phone with the most delightful assistant to my new doctor, the “neurointerventionalist radiologist.” When people used to ask me what I did for a living, I just had to say teacher or principal. He has a tougher go of it.  Anyway, she was great and told me I’m seeing the best and that I’ll really, really like him. I said that sounds almost perfect but does he know what he’s doing. We had a good laugh and she said he’s outstanding, even though he looks like he should be trying out for freshman basketball. Anyway, the VERY first time I could see him is next Tuesday, February 9 at 2pm. I’m just relieved that the referral finally went through and that we’re able to get in to see the top guy.

I know I’ve been a bit undercover the past few days. I started writing a bit yesterday but it wasn’t working as well as it has been. I hope that’s temporary, although some of you are probably thankful you get a break from long posts! I haven’t been sleeping well. Up since 2am today and haven’t had the focus to accomplish anything. Well, I did pray, go to early Monday men’s group and do a little of this and that. The men wrestled with some heavy topics but managed our fair share of kidding and laughter. Always an indispensable part of the week’s rhythms.

Our house is quickly filling and that’s terrific! Diane’s sister, Carol, and husband, Jack, arrived on Friday with their dog. Sister Mary (not a nun) came down from Idyllwild yesterday, while Carol and Jack’s daughter, Pam, also arrived from Oklahoma City. Pam’s sister, Janet, flies in tomorrow from St. Louis. They all head to that garden spot, Yuma, on Wednesday for two days to see where Carol and Jack snowbird. Diane may or may not go. We’re deciding.

As some of you know, when the three Moss sisters get together, there is always joy in Mudville. They are a force of nature. Toss in the two most amazing nieces and you have five women with joyful hearts that love and laugh and light up every space they are in. Not a bad tonic for this fella.

As always, thank you for your friendship and love. Thank you for your prayers and words of encouragement. Whether it’s a gift or simple naiveté, neither Diane or I are living in fear. We rejoice in each day and the love we have for one another and for all of you. May God bless each of you with kind and compassionate hearts and with minds that help you focus on the things that are most important in this life.

Brad