We have this saying in Emmaus that I’ll paraphrase here: “Healing is for those who need it the most and for those who think they need it the least.”

Let’s let that roll over us a bit and consider how true it is.

For most of my life, I knew that I needed healing but most of it was the kind of knowledge that we keep tied up in some deep places. The kind of places where, when the knowing rises to the level of true awareness, we work our will to wrap it up and shove it back down. Through all of this, for me, I seemed to travel from one physical challenge to another. The sort of struggles that were really not possible to ignore. They created some immediate threat to living something like a normal or completely functional life. Some of these physical threats to my well-being were chronic and resulted in routine maintenance to keep in check. Others erupted seemingly out of the blue and required a whole lot of intervention, the ignoring of which was not an option. Trips in an ambulance, periodic visits to the ER and quite a few surgeries to address serious disease almost became a rhythm. Attention to health and the nature of healing became for me (and my family and friends) just another facet of life. I lived with the knowledge that modern medicine had kept me alive when not that many decades before, it would have stopped me in childhood and several other times throughout adulthood.

But, this quality of attention did not occur with the kind of laser beam focus on the part of my life one might refer to as the interior. The thought life. The spirit life. That place that is the font of who we are. Our purpose. Our value. Our meaning. Sure, I paid some attention to these things (if I hadn’t, I couldn’t truthfully testify that I fought God for thirty years) but not nearly to the level of priority I displayed in addressing the many physical threats.

I guess I would respond to the statement above that I needed it the most and only recognized it through largely occluded lenses (or, as our friend David says, “with spiritual cataracts”). In short, my recognition did not result in significant healing. And, that fact resulted in me acting as if I needed it the least.

Well, maybe not the least but you get my point.

Nothing I say or feel here detracts one iota from the relief Diane and I (and so many others) have over the news this past week. Honestly, given the disappearance of symptoms awhile ago, renewed strength and the sheer force applied by so many to my situation, I came to expect evidence of at least some level of healing. To hear that all signs of abnormality had simply vanished was the kind of news that is mind boggling. (Brief detour: It would not be mind boggling to Rachel, a fellow believer who has the gift of healing. After laying her hands aside my head and praying for at least five minutes, she later told others that she felt the heat come out of my body and was convinced the artery was healed at that time. Probably two months ago. I certainly had no headaches after that. Think what you will.) Anyway, I had tears of joy as did a number of people who learned of the news shortly afterwards.

But, in this case, as I alluded to in my last post, the joy was not so much that I had once more eluded a big physical threat but that the healing pointed to so many things that are far more important than my body being well.

And, it is impossible for me to disconnect the two: My physical healing from the fact that there are more important things to pay attention to.

I’m convinced this is one place the rubber really hits the road.

We have a friend of deep faith who I have named in these spaces before but whom I will not name here out of respect for her. We saw her the other morning, for the first time since I heard the news. She had previously let me know she’d learned of the news via a text from Diane while she was shopping and the tears just flowed. Anyway, we hugged and she was beaming. She suffers terribly from a debilitating illness. It’s been going on for a couple of years now and there is no known cure. She is young for this kind of thing and she struggles daily, sometimes mightily. I started to apologize to her with that kind of survivor’s guilt, even though I could have predicted her response … the kind of response I would hope to give. The kind of response I prayed to give since I was first diagnosed.

I trust God.

She said her condition has brought her into a deeper relationship with God and she wouldn’t trade that. When you see her, there’s a radiance that may not reflect how she feels physically but is there, nonetheless. Sure, she testifies to being in dark places some of the time but I know she doesn’t spend energy asking why she has to suffer (as opposed to someone else). However, she probably does continually seek to understand her purpose through her suffering.

I can relate.

As I write these words, I can think of two others who share my friend’s level of physical challenge. Each has been told their situation is incurable. And each is radiant.

The kind of radiance that only comes from interior healing. The kind of radiance that can only result from surrenders both large and small.

I suspect most of us … at least those of us of a certain age … wonder once in awhile how we’ll stand up when the axe falls. I guess it’s a bit easier to contemplate infirmity and mortality when you see contemporaries hit with the really bad stuff. Or oneself, of course.

I also suspect, if a lot of work on inner healing had been engaged some time ago, that in many cases we might be better positioned to manage the inevitable blows. On the other hand, we can probably imagine a case where no amount of inner healing could sustain the violence of some situations.

Yesterday, I read a reflective piece by a husband, whose wife, lover and life partner of 48 years had developed a terrible Alzheimer’s two years ago. His description of his and her life could not help but shake every one of us to our core. My recent problem seems like a blip compared to his. However, there were a couple of things missing from his piece. Predominantly, the involvement of any other humans aside from the two professional home caregivers and, perhaps some colleagues from the business they held together. There was no mention of any other people coming alongside to share in their immense struggles. No sign that he was fed in any way other than by taking a creative writing class which got him out of the house.

Which brings me back to prayer.

If we think of prayer as merely a request that God accomplish something we desire, I believe we’re really missing the mark. Prayer is relationship. Group prayer is far more than enhancing the power of human request to God to accomplish something. Prayer is about recognizing who we are, who God is and how we are all connected. Prayer, in this sense, is then a deepening of relationship in a manner I believe is reflective of the kind of thing we’ll experience in the next life, except by many orders of magnitude greater.

The Lord’s Prayer, hence, is that thing. It’s the model of prayer Jesus taught. Here it is in its traditional old English translation.

Our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, for ever and ever. Amen.

As we can see, it’s communal … based on relationship. It says, “our” and “us.” Always in the plural. It leads off with the recognition of who God is, how we should respond to him, and that he is as present on earth as he is in the heavens.  It then makes the first two requests: That we have sustenance that allow us to live, while also recognizing the central key to living that life, which is love. Jesus said there is nothing more important than love … love of God and love of others. And, he modeled unconditional love, something virtually impossible for most of us in most circumstances. Yes, the bar is set high but we can learn and grow from it. In this prayer, love is expressed in how we recognize our own need for forgiveness while forgiving others. The next request is that God help us to focus on him, rather than merely seeking to idolize self and other distractions, which is always the source of evil. Finally, it comes full circle back to the fact of God and the reality that places him at the center.

I mention all of this because I believe healing is contained in this prayer. Healing that comes from both surrender and the recognition of the enormous power contained in the reality the prayer describes. The power that is available, not through our own means, but as a partner with God in the healing of all of us.

I was asked again yesterday about whether I and we felt fear, especially during those first weeks when the news was fresh and threatening. As I said previously, the honest answer is no. Aside from our own (our, meaning Diane and I) foundational faith that God would sustain us, regardless, we were instantly surrounded by a flood of love. Yes, a flood. We were not alone for an instant. Texts, emails, phone calls went out immediately and rippled across large spaces. Relationships vibrated with life. People stopped what they were doing to focus on us and our predicament. You know what a flood of love is? It’s grace. We weren’t alone for an instant. We were all a part of the same fabric, knit together in a beautiful tapestry, strong and special. And, that love defeats fear. For us, fear of what the physical problem meant was overwhelmed by forces such as Shannon’s bold statement, “We’ve got this.”

I am not Pollyanna. I can completely envision being in a state of fear at some point. This life can be harsh and situations so bad and painful as to overwhelm us. That’s why the statement at the very top of his post is true. We are always in the need of healing, whether we realize it or not. We, therefore, need to ask ourselves what kind of healing do we need and how do we go about getting it.

Lord, I do recognize your hand in my life and in the lives of others. I pray that each of us seeks knowledge of the places where we need healing in order to live the kind of life you designed us for. Help us to reach out to others in need while opening ourselves to their love and grace in return. Help our hearts to form these bonds, to focus on what is most significant. Thank you for relieving our anxieties and giving us hope. Amen.

Well, that was an interesting four months!

Thank you for all of your heartfelt and loving messages since we broke the news late yesterday. As I woke up this morning, Diane greeted me with a smile and a “Good morning, healthy boy!”

To say the least, we’ve been doing some grinning since Dr. Viets’ long-anticipated phone call. And from the sound of it, we’re not alone! Diane and I are so blessed to be surrounded by the most remarkable people. Fellow travelers along for the ride, roller coaster that it is.

So, after his initial joyful message to me upon hearing the news, my friend Gary basically asked what’s with prayer, anyway? Now, you have to understand Gary a bit as he’s a scientist given to asking questions and he’s about as much a prayer warrior as you can ask for. And, understanding Gary as I do, I know he sent that particular question with an impish smile on his face.

But, he has a point.

What is it with prayer? And, specifically, what’s the deal with prayer and healing?

A lot of people pray. Actually, most people pray. Some people know exactly who or what they are praying to (or with) and some people are not sure but are hopeful that someone or some thing is paying attention.

And, when it comes to big deals like serious illness, prayer usually ramps up.

Many of us, though by no means all, think that God answers prayers, although most of us don’t know exactly how that works. This is especially true when we seek healing. Of course, this is a big sticky point between believers and non-believers or skeptics. The classic comeback is “why did he choose to heal that person but not the other person?” That’s a very real and understandable question.

Case in point: After my initial diagnosis of a very rare breakdown of my carotid artery adjacent to my brain, we were told by some top doctors that it was both very dangerous and probably inoperable. For quite awhile we lived with the knowledge that my life could end at any moment, though I felt pretty healthy otherwise. A lot of things kicked into gear, ranging from some deep introspection (given life in these blogs, among other things) to a rather large number of people praying for my healing.

It’s interesting. While Diane and I and most of you were praying for healing (asking for God’s actual intervention to make this dangerous abnormality flat out disappear), perhaps my strongest request was that God hold me tight whatever happened. Put another way, my fundamental urge was to remain close to him and to surrender into his plan for my life. Honestly, I did that pretty much without expectation of the result. Stronger than my request for healing was my request that I live a life reflective of him for however long I had … be it a day, a week, a month or much longer.

Now, I cannot be the judge of how well I did in that department. I’m sure I fell far short but hopefully not entirely. However, I can testify to answered prayer immediately. This cannot be disputed.

Neither Diane nor I ever really felt fear and our actual anxiety rarely registered.

You see, “healing” is a complex thing. We look at it as the resolution of some physical problem. That’s no small thing, especially for those of us who face potentially fatal diseases or crippling conditions. And, “prayer” is a complex thing.

I think God’s healing hand touched my soul immediately, helping me to relax and trust. To surrender. And, I know Diane felt this too, as we talked about it. Clearly, this is a byproduct of having God at the center of our lives.

Now, don’t get me wrong. It would be a mistake to hear me say that this is easy. Surrender is never easy. And, pain or a major disruption to life is obviously very unpleasant. But, having experienced those things without God and with him, there’s just no comparison.

Someone told me recently, that I must be very brave to live through this with a kind of contentment he witnessed. Another person asked me this morning if I felt a 400 lb. weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. Looked at objectively, those comments make a whole lot of sense. I’d have said the same thing if the roles were reversed. But, neither struck me as true. I’ve not felt brave and I’ve not felt like I’m carrying a gigantic weight around. Perhaps that sounds pompous. What I honestly felt is a kind of courage that didn’t take effort and a kind of weight that did not make me really bend my knees too much.

I think these things are directly related to prayer and healing.

The license plate on our Jeep reads “MTW1720.” We’ve had that on three different vehicles since 2005. It refers to the verse in the Gospel of Matthew (17:20) where Jesus says, “Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.”

A mustard seed is an incredibly small thing and a mountain is a very big thing. Duh. Moving mountains by speaking to them is plain ridiculous. But this statement is actually about faith and faith is both very simple and very complex. Faith is a thing but it has implications that bore into minute fibers, touching the immense and the miniscule. In the scheme of things, we tiny beings in a vast universe are pretty inconsequential but that doesn’t mean anything because in God’s economy, the math doesn’t work that way. The smallest things can be infinitely precious and what we think of as huge and vastly important can, in fact, be virtually without significance. This is the reality in which I live and it’s far more real than any I’ve ever encountered or studied. It’s proven to me just about every day.

Why do I mention all of this? In my world (which I maintain is the true world, despite worthy arguments to the contrary), a big detour like hearing of some life-threatening condition is not a deterrent to the fact that this detour is really very, very small.

It is small because it doesn’t change important priorities and it doesn’t change the position of that directional needle that governs our behavior and attitude … the true north, so to speak. That needle is not dependent upon the ebbs and flows of daily life, nor upon the shifting sands of our feelings and emotions. It is small because we are either eternal beings or we’re not. I stand on the fact we are. So, between True North and eternal life, they tend to provide quite a different perspective to detours. And, that perspective assumes surrender, which (counterintuitively) provides both courage and contentment.

I guess this is getting a bit heady but let’s pull this back into healing and prayer.

Prayer is far more than asking God to provide some benefit, as in, “please heal that darned artery so I can continue living.” And healing is far more than reformatting the fibers and connective tissues that form arterial walls.

Prayer is recognizing God’s place in our lives and practicing his presence through speaking and listening … just as we would with anyone else we’re in a relationship with. And healing is all about flourishing in both body and spirit.

I am humbled by the many, many people who have been praying for me. It’s really mind-boggling and just plain stunning. Many who have been praying actually love me. Imagine that! Others who may not know me well, love Diane so are praying for me in that context. 🙂 Some know either one of us less well but are associated with us. And, still others don’t really know either one of us but are part of a prayer group where someone showed up and said, “hey, there’s this guy Brad that I know (or that someone I know knows) and he could really use our prayer.” In other words, a whole lot of people are setting their own cares aside and seeking to put mine first.

In God’s economy, that’s very cool. It’s one way of defining love. And, if anyone says love can’t heal, then they probably don’t know the meaning of true love. Prayer is forming connecting tissue and with God at the center, that connection is immensely powerful. It may not produce the exact result those praying are seeking but it does produce results … some quite tangible and some less tangible. In God’s economy they are both bountiful.

And, here’s one really difficult thing to wrap our heads around: Why did my body heal but the bodies of other loving and faithful people not heal? Why has there not been healing in those others who have received at least as much prayer as I have and some who have received far more and for much longer periods of time?

This is especially painful as we are extremely close to a number of the most loving and beautiful people you could ever want to know and each of them suffers from very painful and debilitating diseases that have no known cure.

And, then there’s Shannon. If anyone “deserved” to live and whose large circle was praying ceaselessly on bended knees, it was she. But she didn’t.

Some will take this as evidence that God does not exist or that if he does he is not really a loving God.

I look at the lives of these people, those alive and the one deceased, and I can’t calculate the good they’ve done and how remarkably they face their days with courage and determination. They stumble but they don’t fall. There is beautiful healing going on, despite the pain.

For those of you who have been reading many of these posts, you’ll understand when I say my most important healing occurred eleven years ago. And, it continues every day. It’s a healing that is life altering and results in a complete shift in perspective. It’s a healing that allows me to both surrender into the love of others and to extend that love when I can. It’s a healing that allows me to live in a reality with both joy and sorrow as companions. It’s a healing that opens my ears to God’s whispers and helps me to frame thoughts and words that guide my life.

I cannot answer all of the questions. I may not know God’s intentions on any specific thing. I realize that some people will choose not to believe in God because certain things don’t make sense. I basically used to think that way. I was wrong. I remain a rational guy who seeks answers and, a lot of the time, I get them. But, I’m also content in not knowing everything. I’ll leave that to God. The alternative is just a desert that will go poof in the end.

What’s the deal with healing and prayer? They both work. They work big time.

One last thing. I just need to leave everyone with the realization that we’re really, really stoked!! Hallelujah! It’s just very cool. Some real celebration going on! Thank you!!

Brad: “Hello, this is Brad.”

Dr. V: “Hi Mr. Lichtman, this is Dr. Viets. Sorry I was delayed a few minutes. You have great results. The dissection is completely healed.”

Brad: “Oh my. Praise God. What about the pseudo aneurysm?”

Dr. V.: “Gone. Completely gone.”

Brad: “So many people have been praying.”

Dr. V.: “That’s great. I’m really happy for you.”

Brad: “Can I return to a completely normal life?”

Dr. V.: “Yes.”

Brad: “Because we do not know the cause of this, should we do another MRI in six months?”

Dr. V.: “Yes. That’s probably a good idea but I suspect we’ll just see a completely healed artery.”

Brad and Diane (on speaker): “Thank you so much. Hallelujah.”

And, thank you dear family and friends, for all of your love … for your faith … for your prayers. Let no one misunderstand God’s role in this.

Diane and I never felt fear, thanks to God, and he deserves all of the credit.

I guess I’ll be kicking around this ol’ world a bit longer. Lots of life left to live.

Lord, thank you for never leaving our side. Thank you for gathering the most amazing people around us during this challenging time. Thank you for their love and grace and unwavering support. We are on our knees in gratitude. Amen.

As you all know, Diane and I are Christians or, as we like to say, followers of Jesus. The term Christian is so loaded, so full of interpretation and even baggage, that it can be a conversation stopper or worse. That’s a tragedy. It’s also ironic. It might come as a surprise that Jesus came to abolish religion, rather than to start one. A statement that has to raise an eyebrow or two.

Maybe I’ll go all theological at some point but that’s not the point of this overdue post. It has to do with grace and love, two things I’ve written about quite extensively in the past three months.

There are all kinds of love, while we commonly use a single word to describe them. C.S. Lewis posits four types of love in his aptly named book, The Four Loves.  Loosely put, he categorizes them as (1) Affectionate or empathetic love … such as that between close family members, (2) Friendship love … that between friends that are as close as siblings, (3) Romantic or sexual love and (4) charitable love or what some refer to as agape (pronounced uh-gop-eh) … love offered without condition or expectation of return. It should come as no surprise that Lewis considers this last type of love as the “highest” form of love. By such an extremely simplistic summary of his categories, I risk raising way too many questions or objections.

However, there is only one grace. (Disclaimer: Theologians can also parse grace and they have a point but, unlike love, the parsings are just ways of helping us wrap our heads around the same thing. Love is different.) Grace is a gift, undeserved but freely given. Grace and agape love go hand in hand.

Grace and agape are real examples of God and reflect his presence.

Furthermore, when we hear the words, “made in God’s image,” we can get distracted by assuming it means physical image. In the case of an incarnate Jesus, that’s true but I take it to mean much more. It means we are designed for grace and agape love. It means that if we all lived our lives with those two things as the primary focus of our behavior, imagine the difference.

Which brings me to Emmaus.

Some of you reading this are very familiar with Fourth Day communities like Emmaus and Kairos. Some may have heard of them but are largely unfamiliar. And others have no idea.

Put simply, Emmaus and Kairos invite people into an intensive 72 hour (three day) experience of grace and agape. While that three day experience is the beginning, both are called Fourth Day because of what we do when we leave. For reference, Kairos occurs in prison.

At the conclusion of each 72 hour experience, participants are asked to publicly describe what it meant to them and what they will do about it. It is a rare person who does not relate that it changed their life.

How is that possible? Many people attend retreats, often through churches, but not always. Many participants come away refreshed and re-energized. Some come away with new insights or a deeper sense of peace. Most people who attend Emmaus (you only go once as a participant) have been to many retreats. None would place this in that kind of category. Of course inmates in large prisons like RJ Donovan State Penitentiary in southern San Diego County have not been on many retreats. They live in a place we would liken to hell.

What distinguishes Emmaus and Kairos is that people are transformed through experiencing deep love and grace, most in ways they never had previously and some for the very first time.

This was true for Diane and me in 2009, which is why we’ve chosen to participate in the Emmaus community and serve on the teams who lead and support that annual three day experience. The planning takes many months and is intensive, especially for leadership. I was named the men’s director last May and we had our Walk last weekend(Thursday evening until Sunday evening. It’s not really a walk in that we tread around. Long story.). Diane is an assistant director this year and she is in the middle of the women’s Walk right now. Previously, I did some work with Kairos at Donovan, although I haven’t been able to continue due to so many other opportunities.

I’m sharing all of this not just as news but to continue a theme I touched on some weeks ago. Previously, I called it Church. And this may help bring us back to the first paragraph above.

Each of us carries within us some very special qualities. And those qualities seek outlets. Expression. We are wired to love and to be loved. We are wired to seek fulfillment in some form … although most of us make all sorts of choices that don’t really end up all that fulfilling or ultimately satisfying.

I believe one of those qualities is the draw to be in relationship with others. Unfortunately, many of those relationships are not as fulfilling as they can be because we hold back … we protect ourselves from hurt … we harbor our anxieties … we don’t share our deepest hopes and yearnings. We are a society and culture that idealizes the self … glamorizes the narcissist. We preach fulfillment through material means or through a spirituality that is about “actualizing” the self … an inward focus that places us at the center.  None of this gives expression to love and certainly not grace.

When we are in community, truly sharing life together, offering unconditional love and grace, we are on the path to fulfillment. This is the church I know and Emmaus is like that.

This is not religion, which is really about creating systems for us to earn our way to salvation (fulfillment or however you choose to characterize the ultimate goal). True love and grace have nothing to do with earning. And neither does salvation and fulfillment. This is what Jesus taught and a main reason why Diane and I say we follow him. The whole thing is just darned counterintuitive. But it’s true.

And, this is what Emmaus is about. This is what church should be about. This is how life is meant to be lived.

Lord, thank you for showing us love and grace. Thank you for accepting our surrender from the lies that pull us away from the true nature of these unique forces. Help us to grow more deeply so that we can receive and offer unconditional love. So that we can receive and extend grace. Thank you for Emmaus and Kairos, two remarkable organizations built around love and grace. I thank you for the men who were transformed last weekend, who described in detail how their eyes and hearts were opened to dimensions of love and grace they had not previously known existed. Thank you for the many, many men who worked to make the three days successful and for the hundreds around the world that prayed for all of us by name, covering every hour of the experience. Please be with Diane and the women this weekend, as well, and we look forward to everyone getting together next weekend to celebrate and to continue our discussion about how to bless others as we all continue our Fourth Day. Amen.

Bless your hearts if you’re checking in to see if I’ve fallen off the face of the earth. No, I haven’t. And, I haven’t given up the call to write about things I find most meaningful in this life. As I’ve mentioned before, I’m just caught up in a host of responsibilities that weren’t as present in the first couple of months after my diagnosis. Unfortunately, this has reduced the amount of time and energy I have to be quiet and reflective and to carve out extended periods to actually write. One of the great benefits of retiring is that, theoretically, we control our time. Well, that’s been only partially true, especially in the last several months leading up to Emmaus … which is this weekend for the men and the following weekend for the women. With the conclusion of Emmaus and my tenure as temporary staff at the church coming to a close in June, I get to re-retire!

Of course, knowing me, I’m not sure how long it will be until the next major focus area arrives on my doorstep. 🙂

So, some good news. Today, I scheduled my big long-awaited MRI. We’re set for Thursday, April 21 in the afternoon. It’s a little earlier than I think the doctor originally wanted but that date was open and I don’t want to turn it down. Please pray that it will show evidence of healing! I’ll write more before then, but I’d also appreciate prayers that I get through it ok. Many of you know about my intense claustrophobia stemming from being trapped 400 feet below the earth’s surface in that cave’s small dark tube (my only and last time spelunking!) …  the emergency MRI I had in January was 90 minutes long and very, very difficult, even with some meds. But, that’s a small price to pay for having access to terrific health care and I’m not worried, really.

The other good news on the physical front is that I’ve started exercising again, with no ill effects. Far from full throttle but enough to feel like I’m getting my strength and stamina back. It’s a strange sensation to have a serious illness but to not really feel the effect of it. Of course, we hope it’s indication of healing! On the other hand, my original symptoms were quite mild and it’s a wonder they found it. Curious, all the way around. Hopefully, the next few weeks will shed greater light on the whole thing.

Finally, I trust that next week, I’ll be able to return to writing. I appreciate your faithfulness in checking in.

Lord, you know that I know that each day is a gift. We sometimes say that casually. I trust I never do. Awhile back, I wrote about living on borrowed time. That’s never far from my conscious mind. Thank you for those gorgeous bright purplish flowers in our new garden today. Closed at night, they come to life in the light, reaching upwards. Thank you for those butterflies and hummingbirds that delight amidst the color and scent. Thank you for Diane and our boys, Ross and Lee, for our extended family and so many friends who really are family. Thank you for soft hearts that seek the good of others and thank you for filling us with gifts to do the work that needs to be done. We know there’s nothing we can do to earn your love or to lose it. Take that to the bank. It’s miraculous. Amen.