My Testimony part 1

I don't know why this has been on my mind lately, but it has so here goes. I always remember being in youth group and hearing crispy critter stories ("I was so close to hell..." "I was sleeping in the gutter,"" I did so many drugs", etc.) and thinking to myself "boy if I had a good story like that and I saw firsthand what God could do for me, I would really believe." That thinking was flawed in so many ways, but alas that's what being young is all about I guess.

First, my testimony is that I didn't have to go through all that junk. God saved my parents and changed their lives long before I came along, and they brought me up to know and follow God. He was good to me before I was even born by providing me with good parents. As I was growing up, I knew other kids in our church and youth group that did all the horrible things (sex, drugs, you name it) the crispy critters did, but God chose to reveal himself to me in no uncertain terms before I got to those stages. I wanted to follow God when I could have started down a very different path. Testimony number one is that God has saved me from so much destruction and so many horrible experiences in the first place.

Second, my foundation has been firm. This kind of dovetails with the first one. Because I didn't have those horrible times of life -- for which I am eternally grateful -- it would be easy to think that God hadn't really been "tested." I'd have to agree that I didn't have a dramatic story. I still don't really have one. If you get thrown out of the airplane and the parachute opens just as it should, it's scary but not catastrophic. Losing a son has been a kick to the heart, and like getting thrown out of a plane you don't have much say in the matter and you'll take all the help you can get. We could not have carried ourselves, but when God shows up, cradles us, takes care of us like never before, like we knew he would, it is no fun at all but still not the end of the world. It hasn't been without uncertainty, outright fear, grief and lots of crying, but our life hasn't crumbled, our faith hasn't cratered, our marriage is strong and our life continues with hope.

God can do incredible restoration with crispy critters, but God can also protect, cradle and guide hearts submitted to Him. So, I think a life of hope and faith is just as dramatic a testimony to the power of God. My personal testimony right now is that we do not grieve like the rest of men who have no hope.

You Could Have Had

I wrote this the day after my son died and our pastor read this essay at his funeral.

You could have had a great life.

Everyone says being a father gives you a clearer perspective on how your heavenly father sees you. For example, when I looked at my son, I loved him so much I could hardly stand it. It wasn’t because he was so great (which he was of course), because he was good to me or because he did anything for me. I loved him because he was my son, no other reason necessary. I always knew this is how it would be, but now I’ve felt it, it’s real. I understand more now how my heavenly father sees me.He loves me because I’m his son, not because of what I can do for Him, great things I can say about Him or anything, but because He made me to be me.

Yesterday I held my son and discovered quite another perspective from God. I had been anxiously waiting for him to come, I had so many dreams for him. So many things I wanted to teach him and help him experience. He would go mountain biking, rock climbing, scuba diving and sky diving. He would learn to work on cars, work with wood, work on houses. He would learn to be a real man, a servant, a hard worker, a loving husband and a doting father himself some day.

It wouldn’t be perfect all the time. At some point in his life he would have probably yelled, “I hate you Dad!” and slammed the door. I might have yelled back, “I don’t care, I hated you first.” But really, he could never get away from my love. There would never be any time I wouldn’t drive off the end of the world to get him back. All these things he missed out on, he never had a chance to experience them. As I laid him down in his crib for the last time I whispered in his little ear, “You could have had a great life.”

When my heavenly father lays me down for the last time I don’t want him to say, “You could have had a great life.” I don’t want Him to say, “You could have had joy, you could have had freedom, and you could have had peace. I wanted to teach you to trust Me; I would have taken care of you. I wanted to teach you to live fully and abundantly; I would have provided for you. I wanted to help you with your burden; I would have taken it for you. I wanted to calm your fears and restore your hope; it’s what I do best.”

It won’t be perfect. At some point, maybe several points, in my life I may yell, “I hate you God!” and slam the door. He will always say, ”I don’t care, I will always love you.” There will never be any time He won’t turn over Heaven and earth to get me back.

Don’t miss out on all God offers you. Don’t get to the end of a good life apart from God only to hear, “You could have had... a great life.”

Permission to Use

I have had several requests to use various parts of my blog and our story in sermons, talks, speeches, discussions, etc. Anyone has permission to use my story and or blog entries. It's on the internet so it doesn't get much more public than that.

I do request that you let me know when you use my story or entries. It's encouraging to hear my blog entries have wings, travel about and have a positive impact in peoples lives. If possible I'd really love to hear or see a copy of the sermon, speech, talk or whatever.

I'm encouraged when other people see value in my questions and thoughts. Thank you again for your support and interest.

Why I Give AKA God Pt II

When I was maybe 4 or 5 I was sitting in a church conference with my parents in a hotel ballroom with jade green paisley carpet, green covered chairs and dark jade and gold curtains covering the windows. It came to the part of the service where they collected the tithes and offerings and passed the baskets. My mom handed me a quarter and told me to put in the basket. When the basket came along, I quickly slipped the quarter in my pocket and passed the basket on. My mom, being the shrewd woman she was, caught the slight of hand and took the basket back. She said, "Why did you keep the quarter when I told you to put it in the basket?" I said, "because you gave it to me." "Yes, but if I ask you to put it in the basket and you don't, why should I give you another quarter?"

We see in the Bible that God expects a tithe from us out of obedience and out of trust. If we don't obey God's commands; if we don't trust what God says is true in everyday matters such as money and possessions, how can we believe we will be able to trust or obey when it comes to important matters.

Let's say I had not been a faithful tither, let's say I chose not to obey, let's say I did not trust God with my money. If I arrived at my present set of circumstances in this condition it would be nearly impossible for me to suddenly, honestly begin trusting God. I couldn't start at this point and suddenly believe that He knows what's going on, that He wants the best for me or know that He will provide for me.

In my current situation I'm grateful that Rebecca and I decided to make a habit of trusting and obeying years ago when the 'trust and obey' wasn't on such an incredible scale. We didn't just stand up after William died and say we'll trust God now because we have nothing else to do. We stand up and say God has been good to us for years and He still is, right now.

God asks us to put our quarters in the basket, we do, and he always gives us more quarters.

Ups and Downs

Well, this last weekend was extremely tough. First, I went to Oshkosh, WI for my annual airplane dreaming vacation at the EAA Airventure show. It's a collection of 2,500 or more airplanes of all types: old "war birds", business jets, geneal aviation, gliders, military fighters, homebuilt and experimental airplanes, floatplanes, helicopters, ultra-lights... I think you get the picture that it's a lot of flying things.

That show and that vacation time is one of my favorite times of year, and it just struck me like a ton of bricks that I won't be able to bring him along. As my buddies and I sat around the beer garden till midnight, I thought that in 21 years he won't be there with me, enjoying what we've been enjoying all this time, telling stories among friends. I saw so many little boys walking around the show with their dads, excitedly running and pointing at almost every single airplane they saw, shielding their eyes to watch the airshow and I don't have my little boy. Almost to top it off, there was a new childrens cartoon debuted at the show called Andy's Airplanes. (it really is quite cute I think) I walked by it almost every day, and boy if that isn't just salt in the wound, I don't know what is.

I don't know if you guys noticed, but his little outfit at the funeral had airplanes on it because I knew we would enjoy airplanes together.

So Sunday night when I got back, we had a long cry about that. Then Monday was the 30th which is the six month mark and that was hard too. We had another good cry about that and filled my ears up again. When you cry while lying on your back, your tears run into your ears until it sounds like you're in an aquarium.

So really, I don't think the pain lessens, it just gets concentrated from the easier every day events into the harder meaningful events. I kind of feel like a 9/11 survivor; we'll survive, but we'll never forget.