The Gift of Listening to Difficult Things

A. is dying, and she can't talk about it with her family.

She spent two days in the hospital last week, after passing out for so long with such shallow respiration and reflexes that her family feared she had died. She had a conversation with Steve, seeking "permission" not to fight anymore (see below). Today I visited, and she whispered to me that she was ready.

Momma D. and Momma B. were in the room with us, so A. couldn't speak freely. She told me, quickly, that she had broached the subject of her death with her husband, H. a few days ago. "When I am gone, the bed will seem empty, so take M. (their little son) to sleep with you," she pleaded. But H. couldn't stand it. "Don't talk that way! You must fight! You're driving me crazy!"

H. didn't sleep any that night, and when he got up he had a headache all day. When A. heard this in the morning, she apologized, and said, "I was just kidding." But she really wasn't.

How difficult it must be to hope in Christ, and not be able to share that hope openly with those who are closest to you. A's family is all insisting that she continue to fight, and they refuse to speak with her about death. (This seems to be a common cultural practice. After complications from a stroke, Arezoo's own father was sent home by his doctor, who told the family that he was just fine. Twenty minutes after his return, he died.)

Brothers and sisters in Christ, let us not take our freedom for granted. We have a risen Savior! Why should we fear speaking to one another about death? Perhaps the best gift we might give to a friend or family member who is dying might just be our willingness to listen.

High Holy Day Hardships

From the looks of things on "Covenant Blogs," evidently the Holy Day Hardships are upon us. Over the past two decades of ministry, I have observed that the Enemy chooses Holy Week and Advent as his favorite times to target Christ's flock. This phenomenon has become so unmistakeable that I finally thought it deserved a name, so I have called it the "Holy Day Hardships."

And it has settled upon us at Valley Covenant, just as it has settled upon Quest and Christ the King and countless other kingdom outposts. Just in the past 24 hours:

• V. died early this morning, leaving his wife and three kids


• A. has lost 12 more pounds, and now weighs only 100 lbs. We are waiting to hear from the drs. if they will allow her to continue her chemotherapy.


• E, a single mom's little toddler has been diagnosed with a staph infection.


• P., a beloved high school teacher, was taken to the ER with intense stomach pains. At first they thought it was appendicitis; perhaps it is diverticulosis, or c. difficile? He is home awaiting a diagnosis.


• J.'s brother is on his deathbed in California.


• B. is divorcing D, because D. is having an affair and won't end it.

Once again I am reminded of Nouwen's words:

"Our emotional lives move up and down constantly. Sometimes we experience great mood swings from excitement to depression, from joy to sorrow, from inner harmony to inner chaos. A little event, a word from someone, a disappointment in work, many things can trigger such mood swings. Mostly we have little control over these changes. It seems that they happen to us rather than being created by us.

Thus it is important to know that our emotional life is not the same as our spiritual life. Our spiritual life is the life of the Spirit of God within us. As we feel our emotions shift we must connect our spirits with the Spirit of God and remind ourselves that what we feel is not who we are. We are and remain, whatever our moods, God's beloved children.

We have feelings, but they do not define us entirely. What we feel is necessary for making us who we are, but doesn't sufficiently contain all that we are.

Christ weeps over Jerusalem, and at Lazarus' tomb, and in the garden. He is the Man of Sorrows, but that is not all that He is. The truth is that He was, and is, God's beloved Son, in whom the Father is well-pleased. We weep with V., A., E., P., J., B and D. but we live this truth: we are Christ's flock, and He is our shepherd. We believe that Christ is the Truth and that He has told the truth:

"You will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy. A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but when her baby is born she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child is born into the world. So with you: Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy...I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world."

Remembering Mamma

Today would have been my mother's 87th birthday. She died four years ago, on Valentine's Day, of a brain tumor, after suffering from Alzheimer's Disease for a decade.

The older I get the more I see of her in myself. Some things please me. The way I laugh. The way I hug my own children. Some things scare me. The way I am starting to need naps. The way I am starting to "lose my tongue" halfway through a sentence.

But one thing comforts me: we have the same Saviour. Thank you, Jesus, for Ruth Gertrude Ekstrom Tichacek; for the life she gave me, and the Life you give both of us.

A. continues the fight

We were well into the second song of the morning when A. stumbled in to worship, with a dozen apricot roses in a vase. I took them from her, placed them on the altar and led her to her chair next to mine. She is wiped out, physically and emotionally. Her cancer enzyme levels are high and she's in horrific pain, praying that she can have another chemo tomorrow. The pain meds that used to bring her relief for 8 hours now are only working for just a couple hours, and she thinks something has "changed" within her kidneys.

As difficult as it is to see her physical suffering, it is even more difficult to witness her spiritual trials. "I must have done something to make Jesus not love me any more," she whispers. "He doesn't come to me anymore. He doesn't hear me." (She hasn't had any more dreams recently.) "Every night I pray he come to me, but He doesn't." I try to reassure her, to be Christ to her, but it is a challenge for both of us.

According to the internet, "Doctors generally think a patient is doing very well if they are still alive two years after being diagnosed with stomach cancer that has spread. Fewer than 1 in 20 people (5%) live for at least 5 years if they have stage 4 stomach cancer when they are diagnosed."

A. is teaching me how important the difference is between optimism, hope and hope in Christ. (cf. Dr. Jerome Groopman, author of , The Anatomy of Hope: How People Prevail in the Face of Illness, http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/4269238/
I don't want to rob A. of hope in Christ; but I do want to guard her from mere optimism and point her to a fuller hope which is not just grounded in human volition. Groopman writes:

"I think the will to live is a very powerful force. It’s instinctual, it probably varies from person to person. Hope is different. It has a cognitive or informational component which involves gaining knowledge, learning, seeing what’s in front of you, and with that, making very deliberate choices. The will to live is very important, in terms of survival. Hope is a higher function. You need both, for sure. If you don’t have a will to live, it’s very hard to find hope."

Groopman was asked: "When a patient feels more in control do you think it helps? Or are there instances when feeling in control can’t help?

"Having control potentially can help clinically in terms of outcome, but it may not. Again, it’s not a magic wand where you switch it on like a light. Still, having a sense of control is extremely beneficial in terms of lowering fear and anxiety and being able to make choices. There is a whole other dimension to hope, though. The very last line of the book says, “For those who have hope, it may help some to live longer, and it will help all to live better.” When you have a sense of control, when you’ve made choices and you don’t feel totally at the mercy of those around you, it can give a person enormous comfort and strength and equilibrium in facing very difficult circumstances.

The question of course is a philosophical one: what is hope? Is it the ability to choose or the conviction that one has been chosen? One will focus on doing something according to some formula, the other will focus on being in a relationship. One will focus on the self as agent; the other will focus on God as agent. One can only end in frustration; the other leads to life and love.

Psalm 33

18 But the eyes of the LORD are on those who fear him,
on those whose hope is in his unfailing love,

19 to deliver them from death
and keep them alive in famine.

20 We wait in hope for the LORD;
he is our help and our shield.

21 In him our hearts rejoice,
for we trust in his holy name.

22 May your unfailing love rest upon us, O LORD,
even as we put our hope in you.