My children and grandchildren know crayon colors with which I cannot identify, colors such as magenta and coral.  I suppose that the days of mixing two primary colors to make a secondary color have long since passed, but it was always fun to see what you would get by mixing two or more of those heavy, thick crayons to make a whole new color.  Some combinations were maybe a little more pleasing to the eye than others, but the exercise was always interesting.

Similarly, not every two person combination of people seems to work.  Oh, the outward packaging might be alike and the general dimensions may be roughly the same, but the two don’t seem to work well when mixed together on life’s stark canvas. 

In order for two crayons to magically mix into a uniquely shared color, they must comingle.  There needs to be a period of sufficient time for two compatible colors to be rubbed together before that other color–the one which comes only from the blending of the two–can appear.  Too much of one color or the other changes the outcome.  Replicating the desired hue requires much practice.

My Young Bride may well have been one of the more modern, exotic colors to my old time heavy primary color, but we were able to blend together in a manner which was most pleasing to my eyes.  Such blending–whether of crayons or the lives of people–is the ultimate in intimacy as it becomes impossible to rightly discern where the one begins and the other ends.

Intimacy has taken on the nearly exclusive connotation of sexual contact, but it is so much more.  Crayon pigments must be intimately interwined in order to produce that special secondary color, but that is not to suggest that crayons are capable of sexual reproduction or even the act.

In the same way, the true blending of two people really isn’t about sexual contact–as valuable as that experience may be–as it is about the inordinate sharing of the one with the other.  Intimacy has to do with conversations which explore one’s innermost fears and feelings.  Intimacy has to do with living a shared life rather than two parallel lives.  Crayons residing side by side in the same box are incapable of producing anything at all.  Only when the crayons are both exposed to the paper or canvas–only after they have been heartily rubbed together–can they display that special color that can only be had by their intimate togetherness.

And so it was with me and My Young Bride.  Only now is it so glaringly obvious how much better I looked when viewed through our marriage.  Alone?  Oh, my.  Never in my life have I felt so much like that one stark, unwanted crayon that either doesn’t mix well with any others or just does not appeal to most people.

Oh how I miss that intimacy–at every level of the intimacy we shared. 

In his grief, Job said in Job 29:4-6
4 Oh, for the days when I was in my prime,
when God’s intimate friendship blessed my house,
5 when the Almighty was still with me
and my children were around me,
6 when my path was drenched with cream
and the rock poured out for me streams of olive oil. (NIV)

God knew everything that there was to know about Job.  There is a certain degree of comfort in having someone know you so intimately because there is no hedge–no boundary which must be carefully tended as in relationships with acquaintances or casual friends. 

Job’s friendship with God was one of complete trust–intimate trust.  Trust brings with it the joy of security knowing that the worthy object of your trust will never let you down.  Even in Job’s deepest despair he knew that he could trust in the Lord.  His hope was that comforting intimacy he had once shared with God had not been lost. 

We know, of course, that God did not forsake his friend Job.  We know that the Lord eventually restored what Job had lost.

The time will come when I will see My Young Bride once more.  There will be an intimacy, but it will be different.  In the meantime I can only add my lament to Job’s of, “Oh, for the days . . . “

I believe that the Bible is God’s Word.  I love to encourage people to be joyful in general and to rejoice in the Lord in particular!  I sign e-mails with EYDITL! (Enjoy Your Day In The Lord!).  Even so, some days are better than others.

The Bible teaches that our joy is supposed to be completely independent of our circumstances–if it is in the Lord.  Another true statement, but those words are not always an effective emotional salve in the world of heartache.

There has been an incredible sense of loss since the death of My Young Bride, but there is also an incredible sense of lost.  As in, “What do I do next and how do I do it?” lost.  As in, “Where do I go from here?” lost.  As in, “Lord, I want to rejoice but it ain’t so very easy at the moment!” lost.

But, some days are better than others.  Some days I am merely directionally impaired.

Nehemiah 1:1-4, 1 The words of Nehemiah son of Hacaliah:
In the month of Kislev in the twentieth year, while I was in the citadel of Susa, 2 Hanani, one of my brothers, came from Judah with some other men, and I questioned them about the Jewish remnant that survived the exile, and also about Jerusalem.
3 They said to me, “Those who survived the exile and are back in the province are in great trouble and disgrace. The wall of Jerusalem is broken down, and its gates have been burned with fire.”
4 When I heard these things, I sat down and wept. For some days I mourned and fasted and prayed before the God of heaven. (NIV)

Nehemiah was a man of God who played a very prominent role in the rebuilding of Jerusalem.  His story–the testimony of his faithful leadership–speaks volumes of a man whose joy was clearly rooted in the Lord.  And yet, when he received news that rattled him to his marrow, Nehemiah “mourned and fasted and prayed before the God of heaven.”  For how long did Nehemiah mourn and fast and pray?  “For some days.”

A sum is a mathematical term which ultimately refers to a specific number.  “Some” is an abstract term which may refer to any number greater than one.  How many days did Nehemiah spend mourning and fasting and praying?  Some.  We do not know the sum of his some, but we may rightly think that it was a span of at least several days–perhaps longer.

How many of those days that Nehemiah spent in mourning were days that the Lord had made?  Every single one of them.  Although Nehemiah lived a few hundred years before the apostle Paul wrote to the church at Philippi, how many of those days do you think God would have wanted him to rejoice?  That is a tougher question.

Even though God clearly wants His people to be joyful, He fully understands our emotional needs.

The God-given wisdom of King Solomon is recorded in Ecclesiastes 3:1-4, 
1 There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under heaven:
2 a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
3 a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
4 a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance. (NIV)

Once again we see that there is no specific period given in order for the full cycle of mourning to be accomplished.  If, for example, someone who was married to the love of his life for, say, 37 years, 4 months and two days, and his wonderful wife suddenly died after a very brief illness, what would be an appropriate amount of time for him to mourn? 

Not every day has been spent in deep mourning since My Young Bride died.  At least not every part of every day.  Some days–or at least parts of some days–have been okay.  Some days–an increasing number of days–are devoted more to unwelcome resignation than to abject sadness.

Jacob really loved Rachel, but she was not able to join him as his wife for several years.  When she finally married him, Rachel was initially unable to bear children. During the birth of only her second child–her husband’s twelfth son–Rachel died.  Jacob just put up a pillar in Rachel’s memory and apparently moved on.  Some people handle the death of a spouse differently than others.

It is not a matter of being angry with God or even questioning what in the world He was thinking when He called My Young Bride to join Him in heaven.  It is not a matter of rejecting the Lord.  It is simply a matter of requiring some time to truly reconcile to having to continue life without the helpmate and friend and lover I had known for so many years.

My Young Bride died on a day that the Lord had made.  Surely it was a day in which  many found good reason to rejoice.  Surely it was a day in which many readily rejoiced in the Lord just as they always have.  Life on this planet did not stop the moment My Young Bride passed from it.  Most of the world did not have the pleasure of meeting her.  Their loss.

Life goes on.  For those of us who knew and loved My Young Bride, the sense of loss is great.  But, some days are better than others . . .

The chief author of our Declaration of Independence, Thomas Jefferson, once wrote to his good freind, John Adams, “I cannot live without books.”  His love of reading led to him being merely an inventor, botanist, architect, author, statesman and President of the United States.  How do you think Thomas Jefferson whould have fared on “Survivor” without being able to consult his books?

Not all writings necessarily impart wisdom, but there is great wisdom to be gained from reading.  The Old Testament encouraged reading:

Deutereonomy 17:18-20, 18 When he takes the throne of his kingdom, he is to write for himself on a scroll a copy of this law, taken from that of the priests, who are Levites. 19 It is to be with him, and he is to read it all the days of his life so that he may learn to revere the Lord his God and follow carefully all the words of this law and these decrees 20 and not consider himself better than his brothers and turn from the law to the right or to the left. (NIV)

Jesus often asked folks if they had read up on their Scripture:

Matthew 12:1-5, 1 At that time Jesus went through the grainfields on the Sabbath. His disciples were hungry and began to pick some heads of grain and eat them. 2 When the Pharisees saw this, they said to him, “Look! Your disciples are doing what is unlawful on the Sabbath.”
3 He answered, “Haven’t you read what David did when he and his companions were hungry? 4 He entered the house of God, and he and his companions ate the consecrated bread—which was not lawful for them to do, but only for the priests. 5 Or haven’t you read in the Law that on the Sabbath the priests in the temple desecrate the day and yet are innocent? (NIV)

Matthew 19:3-6, 3 Some Pharisees came to him to test him. They asked, “Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife for any and every reason?”
4 “Haven’t you read,” he replied, “that at the beginning the Creator ‘made them male and female,’   5 and said, ‘For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh’? 6 So they are no longer two, but one. Therefore what God has joined together, let man not separate.” (NIV)

Matthew 21:16, 16 “Do you hear what these children are saying?” they asked him.
“Yes,” replied Jesus, “have you never read, “‘From the lips of children and infants you have ordained praise‘?” (NIV)

Matthew 21:42-44, 42 Jesus said to them, “Have you never read in the Scriptures:
“‘The stone the builders rejected has become the capstone; the Lord has done this, and it is marvelous in our eyes’?
43 “Therefore I tell you that the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people who will produce its fruit. 44 He who falls on this stone will be broken to pieces, but he on whom it falls will be crushed.” (NIV)

Matthew 22:29-32, 29 Jesus replied, “You are in error because you do not know the Scriptures or the power of God. 30 At the resurrection people will neither marry nor be given in marriage; they will be like the angels in heaven. 31 But about the resurrection of the dead —have you not read what God said to you, 32 ‘I am the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob’? He is not the God of the dead but of the living.” (NIV)

In yesterday’s blog entry I shared how much My Young Bride enjoyed reading.  At the urging of a freind who responded to the blog, I peered into the bag of My Young Bride’s unread books.  It turns out that they were purchased on her last birthday–Ferbruary 24, 2009–and the four books typify her wide range of literary tastes.  A Portrait Of The Artist As A Young Man and Dubliner by James Joyce and three Agatha Christie novels: The Tuesday Club Murders, The Moving Finger and Appointment with Death were in the bookstore sack.

Many instances come to mind of watching movies or TV shows with My Young Bride when she would let me and anyone else within earshot know that the screen portrayal was not like the book upon which it was based.  Occasionaly she would approve of the changes in setting or characterizations, and she would let that be known as well.

 My Young Bride’s personal library was mentioned yesterday in passing, but a closer examination is warranted.  In addition to the books devoted to her particular loves, (cooking, gardening and French), one will find works by Cervantes, Victor Hugo, Shalespeare, and W. Somerset Maugham along with her beloved series, The Yada Yada Prayer Group. 

For My Young Bride to hear the words, “Have you not read?,” was a personal challenge!  She had many friends–some whom she met regualrly, others she met every now and then and those whom she only knew from Internet chat groups–and she absolutely loved discussing books with all of them!  If one of her friends recommended a particular volume she has not already read, My Young Bride would immediately contact the local library to put it on reserve.  It was not at all unusual for her to come home from the library with eight or ten books, plus several cd’s of various genres.

My Young Bride successfully passed along her great love of literature to our children–and our grandchildren.  During the Summer Reading Programs, our kids would always receive the rewards offered by the library for reading the required number of books.  Of course, my Young Bride would receive the maximum number of awards each year.

I find it interesting–fascinating really–that My Young Bride was such a voracious reader with only one good eye.  She had been blind in one eye since childhood, but that was never an excuse not to read.  In recent years she suffered from a dry eye syndrome which necessitated eyedrops.  Having to either rest her good eye due to fatigue or refraining from reading while the eyedrops took effect caused her no small amount of consternation!  She so disliked it when she wasn’t able to read.

My Young Bride always made it a point to read to our children and grandchildren.  Of course, in addition to the classic children’s literature she loved reading to them, she took every opportunity to read them the Bible.  The Bible was, afterall, her most favorite book.  Her desire was for our progeny to be able to answer in the affirmative whenever they got to that question Jesus so often asked.

The Bible is the most widely translated, most widely distributed book ever in the history of mankind.  Have you not read it?

Of the myriad things that we mere humans cannot quite fathom, the real story of life and death is most fittingly at the top of the list.  Since we don’t have a clear understanding of death–or life for that matter–our tendency is to fill our knowledge void with myth, legend and conjecture.  For example, many folks like to espouse their belief that dead folks suddenly become angels while others prefer to think that the deceased will be given another opportunity at life on earth through reincarnation.  Of those who believe in life after death–life in another form in a place beyond the confines of earth–there are differing opinions on just what that consists of. 

One of the many things that I truly loved about My Young Bride was her faith.  In an age when people are proud of their “spirituality,” she was quite confident in Christianity.  My Young Bride was an inveterate reader with a wide ranging personal library which was liberally augmented by the local public library.  She requested books for Christmas and her most recent past birthday.  A sack containing her as yet unread books still sits by her desk.  But of all the volumes My Young Bride enthusiastically consumed over the years, her favorite book was the Bible.

Although the Bible apparently lacks the veracity the scientific community requires–the same scientific community which once stated with conviction that the earth was flat–it has stood for centuries without successful criticism.  The Bible offers an explanation for the beginning of life which is dismissed as too simplistic or too mystic while the currently favored theory offers the notion that all of us and the planet upon which we reside are the result of some cosmic accident followed by a series of uncanny events.  Why can we not accept the Bible’s explanation that God created the heavens and the earth and all that they contain?

Which brings us to the point of this particular blog entry: How can we accept the description of our eternity in heaven or hell found in Revelation if we cannot accept the description of our beginning in Genesis?  What if the Bible really is true?  Moreover, what if all of the archeological evidence supporting its claims trumps the revised history books? 

The concept of eternity causes us to struggle.  In a society which thrives upon endless calendars and to the minute scheduling, the thought of time without end is simply beyond our comprehension.  We need a modern day telling akin to the story of Ebeneezer Scrooge.  The Bible tells us that there was an eternity past and there is an eternity future–it is the present which is oh so fleeting.  Like Scrooge, we have choices to make before it’s too late!

We have the freedom to believe that there is no god–or we may choose to believe that there are many gods.  By the way, there is still a Flat Earth Society.  Their website states the cause in which faithful members of the society have placed their trust, “Deprogramming the masses since 1547.”  In the same way that we may dismiss the Flat Earth Society as misdirected zealots, those who adhere to the Bible as being what it purports to be–God’s Word–are often labeled as somewhere short of sane.

If we accept the Bible, we must accept it in its entirety.  To say that a particular passage of Scripture doesn’t really mean what it clearly says may elevate the critic to a position of self imposed importance, but such criticism does not make the critic the defacto editor for inspired writing. 

My Young Bride was not a theologian with multiple academic degrees to her credit, but she was surely a student of the Bible.  Not only did she read and study the Bible, she read and studied commentaries and the writings of such modern notables as C. S. Lewis and G. K. Chesterton as well as the ancients such as Tacitus and Eusebius and Josephus.  The more she read the more confirmation she received that the Bible was exactly what it claims to be!  The more she read the stronger her faith grew! 

That is not to say that My Young Bride easily understood or even easily accepted each and every word of the Bible.  One of the passages which would often bring a tear to her eye and cause a bit of an internal struggle was Psalm 139:13-14 which says,
13 For you (God) created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well. (NIV)

My Young Bride didn’t really have a very heathly view of herself much of the time.  She found it most humbling to believe that God had created her specifically for His purpose.  On the other hand, she readily accepted the verses which folow: Psalm 139:15-16,
15 My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place.
When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,
16 your eyes saw my unformed body.
All the days ordained for me
were written in your book
before one of them came to be. (NIV)

My Young Bride reveled in God’s Word!  The margins of her Bibles are filled with her handwritten notations, and she left behind reams of notes taken over many years of her personal and group Bible studies.  She looked forward to seeing for herself what is described in the following passages:

2 Corinthians 5:6-10,
6 Therefore we are always confident and know that as long as we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord. 7 We live by faith, not by sight. 8 We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body and at home with the Lord. 9 So we make it our goal to please him, whether we are at home in the body or away from it. 10 For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, that each one may receive what is due him for the things done while in the body, whether good or bad. (NIV)

Revelation 7:9-17,
9 After this I looked and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and in front of the Lamb. They were wearing white robes and were holding palm branches in their hands. 10 And they cried out in a loud voice:
“Salvation belongs to our God,
who sits on the throne,
and to the Lamb.”
11 All the angels were standing around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures. They fell down on their faces before the throne and worshiped God, 12 saying:
“Amen!
Praise and glory
and wisdom and thanks and honor
and power and strength
be to our God for ever and ever.
Amen!”
13 Then one of the elders asked me, “These in white robes — who are they, and where did they come from?”
14 I answered, “Sir, you know.”
And he said, “These are they who have come out of the great tribulation; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. 15 Therefore,
“they are before the throne of God
and serve him day and night in his temple;
and he who sits on the throne will spread his tent over them.
16 Never again will they hunger;
never again will they thirst.
The sun will not beat upon them,
nor any scorching heat.
17 For the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd;
he will lead them to springs of living water.
And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.” (NIV)

My Young Bride’s eternity has begun.  In heaven there are no clocks, no calendars, no schedules to adhere to.  Her only job is to do what she always loved doing in this life: to praise the Lord in song and bask in His presence.  And she knows that she can do that forever and ever and ever without even having to take a potty break!

And all God’s people said . . .

There are other dynamics which may come into play with the death of someone we love or have grown close to.  If the death is traumatic, as in the result of combat or an automobile accident or a suicide, those left behind may suffer from a myriad of symptoms which prevent them from facing life’s more routine issues.  No two people face grief in the same manner and there is no set time table for working through the grief process.  When the grief is exacerbated, working through it can become nearly impossible to accomplish alone.

These past several weeks of the journey have been helpful in working through my grief at the death of My Young Bride.  Sadly–fittingly–the final stage of my grief process is nowhere in sight.  My children and grand children are each working through their grief.  My Young Bride’s family and friends are working through their grief.  Some days are better than others for every person involved.  Some days just stink.

Part of my reason for coming to Tennessee was to take care of some business involving the deed to a piece of property we bought just before our third child was born.  Interestingly, My Young Bride was then freshly grieving the death of her mother.  Like many mothers and daughters–like many parent/child relationships–they did not always get along famously.  Part of the grief in that situation was My Young Bride’s lament that she and her mother had not enjoyed a better bond.  That portion of her grief was never fully resolved.  Her father had taken his own life after suffering a stroke.  My Young Bride was just short of her eighth birthday when her father died, and that grief was never fully resolved either.  My Young Bride’s mother’s inability to reconcile her husband’s suicide most likely played in to her inability to be a more effective parent.  Grief–particularly unresolved grief–often has a far-reaching impact on family dynamics and interpersonal relationships.

There is a restaurant just about a quarter mile away from my present hotel which the evening desk clerk rather highly recommended.  Have you ever noticed how easy it is to exceed your expectations when you don’t expect too much?  I really didn’t expect much at this small town restaurant, but it was excellent!  The ambiance was very nice: well dressed wait staff in a subtly appointed and very appropriately lit dining room.  The food was delivered promptly and it was truly excellent!

For a welcome change, the wait staff did not have a brigade dedicated to removing the “extra” place setting from my table.  I simply asked my waitress if she would leave it, and she took it upon herself to let the rest of the wait staff know.  How utterly refreshing!

So, I sat in a perfectly lit restaurant eating a wonderful meal.  Then I became aware of the music which was softly playing.

The first lady at the court house directed me to “the office right around the corner.”  The lady in the second office was very helpful in explaining the process and taking yet another copy of the death certificate, this time  to properly record that My Young Bride had died and so no longer had any claim to our property near the lake.  The second lady went on to explain that it would be in my best interest to consult an attorney if I wanted to draw up a new deed naming anyone else–like our children–as joint owners of that piece of land where My Young Bride and I had discussed building our retirement home.

I took a long drive after that.  Visiting places where My Young Bride and I had gone years before was something of a help, but not much.  Visiting the property yesterday wasn’t much of a help either.  Upon returning from my long drive, I went to the highly recommended restaurant.

When we married in 1971, I was stationed with the United States Army in New Jersey.  It was there–at the post–that I first heard Roberta Flack sing a song with which I readily identified.  “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face” played on the sound system at the restaurant this evening. 

Hearing that song shortly after My Young Bride’s death quickly brought tears to my eyes.  The series of firsts which are so aptly described in that love song aptly remind me of those same firsts in our courtship and early marriage.  I was struck with melancholy, but tears did not flow this time.

When Dolly Parton first broke into show business, it was under the tutelage of country music star, Porter Waggoner.  In fact, Dolly Parton regularly appeared in Waggoner’s TV show.  When she struck out on her own, Dolly wrote a song about how she would remember him.  Some years later, another female singer with a very strong voice–a lady by the name of Whitney Houston–recorded the song.  In the latter version, the context of the Dolly Parton/Porter Waggoner relationship was all but forgotten.  The lyrics took on another dimension for Whitney Houston’s audience in general, and for me in particular.

So, when Whitney Houton’s recording of “I’ll Always Love You” began playing over the restaurant’s speakers, I decided that it was time to leave.  As I was making my way to the van, I quickly came to the conclusion that I will surely always love My Young Bride.  Maybe, just maybe the day will come when I can reach that stage of the grief process which Elisabeth Kubler-Ross called “acceptance,” but it looks like it may take a pretty long time to get there . . .

I enjoy listening to music–and I warble on occasion.  (The King James Bible tells of making “a joyful noise.”)  Those squiggly lines in the hymnals have no meaning for me, but I can read a tape measure.  I’ve done a little carpentry and a little woodworking.  Spatial relationships make sense to me.

Not all of our best laid plans actually measure up to our expectations.  Adam and I started out to play golf yesterday.  The weather forecast based upon computer model imagery had said that the rains were moving to the East and that it would be nice come late morning.  We teed off under overcast skies and were on the seventh hole when the wind-driven rains came.  The guy in the pro shop was nice enough to give us a rain check, then we went to see a movie.  It was a good day, just not the day we had in mind.

“The Soloist” had come highly recommended.  It is based upon the true story of a highly gifted musician who suffers from mental illness.  He plays his beautiful music on the streets of Los Angeles, preferring the acoustics of a concrete tunnel to those of an indoor concert hall.

Good stories–and hallowed literary masterpieces–spring from the telling of how a life or lives were cut short in their prime or failed to reach their full potential as the result of some tragedy–often physical or mental illness.  Lou Gehrig’s Disease is a reminder of how a very gifted athlete was robbed of his abilities by an insidious neuromuscular disorder which now bears his name.  The black and white film of Lou Gehrig’s farewell speech at Yankee Stadium has been played and replayed in the nearly 70 years since he was immortalized by having his uniform number retired.  Lou Gehrig, holder then and for many years after the holder of the record for consecutive major league baseball games played, stepped to the microphone and said, “Today, I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth.”

There are songs–”Only The Good Die Young” comes to mind–which lament what we consider to be the untimely passing of people.  But the real point to remember is that people do die.  The point to remember is that people become incapacitated–no longer able to do what it seems to everyone they were destined to do.  If it were up to us, wouldn’t Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig and so many others still be playing baseball?  Alas, even if it were not for injuries and disease, age eventually overtakes us and renders our mortal bodies no longer able to run fast or jump high.

As much as we may wail and grieve the perceived slights of unfulfilled lives or untimely deaths, God has it all under control.  The psalmist reminds us:

Psalm 139:7-16, 7 Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
8 If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
9 If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
10 even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.

11 If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,”
12 even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.

13 For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
15 My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place.
When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,
16 your eyes saw my unformed body.
All the days ordained for me
were written in your book
before one of them came to be. (NIV)

Horatio Gates Spafford was a prominent attorney in Chicago in 1871 who had grown quite wealthy though his real estate holdings.  The Great Chicago Fire consumed all of Spafford’s buildings–and the bulk of his wealth. 

Dwight L. Moody remains famous for his preaching.  Based in Chicago where he founded the Bible institute which bears his name, D. L. Moody came to know and befriend Horatio Spafford.  After the great fire, the two made plans for their families to spend time together in England.  Spafford sent his wife and their daughters ahead while he took care of some business.  A terrible accident at sea spared his wife but took the lives of the girls.

While crossing the Atlantic Ocean to meet his wife in England, Horatio Gates Spafford penned these lyrics as the ship passed over the spot where  all four of his daughters had drowned:

God says in Leviticus 26:3-5, 3 “‘If you follow my decrees and are careful to obey my commands, 4 I will send you rain in its season, and the ground will yield its crops and the trees of the field their fruit. 5 Your threshing will continue until grape harvest and the grape harvest will continue until planting, and you will eat all the food you want and live in safety in your land.” (NIV)

This being Spring, it is the season for rain.  Without rain the soil cannot cause the seeds to sprout.  It was something of an anomaly and a great blessing to me that there was such a sustained period without rain during my journey.  It rained here and it rained elsewhere, but rain did not hinder any of my activities.  How fitting that the time away was sandwiched with rain.

Arriving home meant returning to responsibility.  The first order of business was to get to the bank.  Laundry consumed a goodly amount of time.  And then there was the mail–bills and correspondence and junk.  Some of it is pressing business, some of it is depressing business.  Much was pitched but much cannot be discarded or ignored.

And so it goes.  The time comes when you have to face even the most distasteful situation or task.  As much as I would like to turn tail and run, I cannot.

James, the brother of Jesus was inspired to write (James 1:2-8) 2 Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, 3 because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. 4 Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. 5 If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him. 6 But when he asks, he must believe and not doubt, because he who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind. 7 That man should not think he will receive anything from the Lord; 8 he is a double-minded man, unstable in all he does. (NIV)

Just as the earth needs rain in order for the seeds to burst forth into crop yielding plants, we need trials in order for us to grow in our faith.  Trials are the seeds of perseverance.  Without trials we have neither the plant of perseverance nor its fruit–spiritual maturity and wholeness. 

So, here’s to perseverance . . .

Yesterday’s round of golf was on a course which abuts the Atlantic Ocean.  Huge freighters, fishing boats and pleasure boats of varying sizes shared the harbor under a bright blue sky.  I was told that the couple ahead of me was from Chicago, and that I might be able to catch up to them.  It took a few holes, but I did finally manage to do that.

The question is almost invariably asked, “So, what brings you here?”  I could lie, but I answer the stock question with my stock answer, “My Young Bride passed away a couple of months ago.”

This time the female half of the couple from Chicago said, “I think I’m going to cry!  That happened to us!  I was married for 42 years and he was married for 48.”

You just never know what the Lord is going to put before you.  After offering some of the details of my wife’s passing, the lady said, “My husband had spinal meningitis 11 years before he died.  For those 11 years, nothing was the same–nothing!” 

It turns out that the lady and the man’s wife of 48 years had played golf together in a league, “So we knew each other.”  She went on to say that neither of them had any intention of seeking another mate–no singles clubs, no internet dating services, no hanging out in bars–but they just began talking and a relationship just sort of happened.

Maybe that’s what’s in store for me somewhere down the line.  We’ll just have to see.

My Young Bride loved water!  I didn’t.  I love golf!  She didn’t.  Part of my reason for coming to the ocean was to pay homage to her.  Fittingly, arthritis has prevented me from playing golf on consecutive days.  I visited some of the spots we had been to together.  There is another place I’ll soon be headed to where we shared some memories.

I love my family, but I am not very anxious to return home.  All around our house and the homes of my family are reminders of My Young Bride.  Every conversation is abundantly pregnant with thoughts of her passing.  It is very much like pouring salt in a still festering wound. 

So, what brings me here?  The healing process has begun, but it still has a long way to go. 

The words of the psalmist come to mind:

Psalm23,
1 The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.
2 He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,
3 he restores my soul.
He guides me in paths of righteousness
for his name’s sake.
4 Even though I walk
through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
they comfort me.

5 You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
6 Surely goodness and love will follow me
all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord
forever. (NIV)

Amen.

What is interesting in this heavily Catholic area of the country is that James Island is in Saint James’ Parish and Johns Island is in Saint John’s Parish.  A local tour guide and self-proclaimed historian could offer no explanation as to how the patron saints of the islands had lost their formal titles.

Most of my parents’ families employ the titles of aunt or uncle when addressing those whose familial standing warrants the title.  I encourage my grandchildren to carry on that tradition. 

One would suspect that, given the high standing of the apostles in Revelation, whomever first bestowed the names James and John upon these South Carolina islands did so with at least high regard if not utter reverence for Saints James and John.  Respect seems to be lacking these days.

Does anyone else see a problem with people considerably younger than you feeling that they have the right to call you by your first name as if they know you well?  Thankfully, there are still a number of well heeled Southerners who address their elders by “Sir” or “Ma’am.” 

At what point does the informal become the trivial?  If we truly were all on the same social plane–if age and relationship mean nothing–then what becomes of society?  When those who see no point in formally addressing anyone regardless of age, gender or familial standing become the ruling segment of society, what will follow?  Where will this social anarchy lead us?

Society must have structure in order to thrive.  At first blush it may appear that the early church achieved some level of Utopian status where all of the social lines blurred.  Consider this: 

Acts 2:42-47, 42 They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. 43 Everyone was filled with awe, and many wonders and miraculous signs were done by the apostles. 44 All the believers were together and had everything in common. 45 Selling their possessions and goods, they gave to anyone as he had need. 46 Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, 47 praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved. (NIV)

How were all of those people–over 3,000 and growing–”together with everything in common”?  There were four things which lead to their unity: 1) “They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching” which meant that they recognized the authority of the apostles and did what they said to do.  Authority is a pretty big thing.  Using titles is a mild form of recognizing authority, but succumbing to authority is the expectation.

2) They devoted themselves to fellowship.  That’s not the philosophy of “eat, drink and be merry.”  These folks worshiped together!

3) They were devoted to the breaking of bread.  Some argue that this was exclusinve to communion–the taking of The Lord’s Supper–while others say they ate every meal together.  Either way, this is an example of felowship as they would always thank the Lord prior to eating.

4) They devoted themselves to prayer.  The Bible is very specific in encouraging us to “pray without ceasing” for one another.

Nowhere in the Bible are we encouraged to show disrespect for one another.  Quite the opposite.

Notice how in our most recent general election and in the days since, our last President is not referred to by title in many circles.  At the same time the current President’s supporters are rather insistent that the “Office of the President” be respected.  Isn’t that curious?  In similar fashion, there are many who would never refer to their aunts or uncles or even their parents by any sort of title, but they relish the idea for themselves.  Curious.

For over 37 years I refered to my wife as “My Young Bride.”  That was in good part due to my great distaste for men referring to their wives as “my old lady” or “the old lady.”  I always wanted my wife to feel special!  It was my goal to lift her up in such a manner as to let everyone know that she was absolutely the one woman to whom I was totally devoted.  The title that I bestowed upon her has been cicrculated, but I haven’t heard many men employ it for their own wives.

There are other names by which I called My Young Bride.  Some were affectionate, and some were more affectionate than others.  Again, the goal was to let her know–and know daily–that I loved her.  There is something about referring to an elder that you don’t know well in an informal manner that seems demeaning.  There is something about referring to an aunt or an uncle or an apostle or a president without the title that seems disrespectful.

Jesus was God in the flesh.  He came from heaven to earth just to die on a cross for you and for me.  Jesus suffered unspeakable indignities–he was mocked and beaten and spat upon and cursed adn then crucified–all for our salvation.

John 13:34-35 records Jesus as saying, 34 “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. 35 By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” (NIV)

So, how can we say that we love one another if we can’t show some respect?  Just asking . . .

There is a fairly thriving business at the shore end of the pier offering wristband passes which serve as a license to try your luck at fishing.  Along with sundry souvenirs ranging from tee shirts to wooden ship models, tackle is available for rent and a variety of bait is offered for sale.  Snacks are also served from the same counter. 

Fishing is something that I enjoy doing, but not something that I particularly enjoy doing with someone else’s equipment.  Besides, what would I do with a fish if I caught it at this point?  I suppose I could drag it back to the hotel and see if the chef would like to cook it up, but that didn’t seem like such a great idea.  So, I walked to the end of the pier to see what the anglers were up to.

This is no run of the mill pier.  It is a wooden structure with tall, treated telephone pole like beams driven into the sand and well braced with a sturdy handrail running its entire length–but the end which juts into the ocean appears as the bulb on a thermometer.  That is to say that the end is circular–with a gazebo-like second floor which offers a fantastic vantage point for viewing the ocean or the beach.

Some stories are just better than others.  Some stories are just more fun to tell.  Fittingly standing at the southern end of the pier bulb were Bo and Bubba.  Honest to goodness, that is what they called one another! 

Bubba’s girlfriend wore a scant bikini made from a small remnant of a Rebel flag.  She seemed impervious to the rather strong wind and cooling evening temperatures.  Bo’s girlfrend was at the opposite extreme, often putting on Bo’s camo hunting jacket (which matched his camo Chevrolet fishing cap).  It was Bo’s girlfriend who was in charge of the radio which she dutifully kept tuned to a variety of local Country stations.

Bubba was bare to the waist of his bluejeans, revealing what appeared to be gunshot wounds–eight small scars consistent with a shotshell pattern on his back and and one angrier scar on his chest which looked like it was inflicted by something along the lines of a .38 caliber.  A once well sutured curved scar on his back below the shotshell pattern may have been how a surgeon elected to repair that damage.  Bubba appeared to be a few years shy of his thirtieth birthday.

Both Bubba and Bo were fishing with small pieces of shrimp as bait.  Bo explained that “you have to peel your shrimp.”  He offered that it is best if you cut the shrimp “into about four pieces.” 

Sure enough, Bubba and Bo both caught several fish in my presence, but none were even a foot long.  They cut some of their small catch into pieces to bait the hooks on the other two poles they had secured in the holders which are conveniently attached to the pier at regular intervals.  “These,” said Bo, “are for sharks.”  Neither of those two fishing poles saw any action while I was there.

Jesus seemed to spend a lot of time hanging around anglers.  He not only called several fishermen to follow him, he often rode with them on the water in their boat. 

When he called that big, good ol’ boy fisherman named Simon to follow him, Jesus said that he would make him “a fisher of men.”  Then Jesus told Simon that he would call him “Peter.”

Bo and another fisherman had a spirited discussion about which type of fish was best to use as bait in these waters and just how much line to give a fish once it’s hooked.  They agreed that if you give a fish too much line, he can straighten the hook and get away.  Real fishermen know their stuff.

Dr. Luke tells this about some real fishermen and Jesus: Luke 5:1-11, 5 One day as Jesus was standing by the Lake of Gennesaret, with the people crowding around him and listening to the word of God, 2 he saw at the water’s edge two boats, left there by the fishermen, who were washing their nets. 3 He got into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, and asked him to put out a little from shore. Then he sat down and taught the people from the boat.

4 When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, “Put out into deep water, and let down the nets for a catch.”

5 Simon answered, “Master, we’ve worked hard all night and haven’t caught anything. But because you say so, I will let down the nets.”

6 When they had done so, they caught such a large number of fish that their nets began to break. 7 So they signaled their partners in the other boat to come and help them, and they came and filled both boats so full that they began to sink.

8 When Simon Peter saw this, he fell at Jesus’ knees and said, “Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!” 9 For he and all his companions were astonished at the catch of fish they had taken, 10 and so were James and John, the sons of Zebedee, Simon’s partners.

Then Jesus said to Simon, “Don’t be afraid; from now on you will catch men.”  11 So they pulled their boats up on shore, left everything and followed him. (NIV)

Simon and his fellow anglers caught fish for a living.  These waters were where they plied their trade!  There isn’t a fisherman alive who hasn’t seen the day when they caught nothing.  Simon said, “Ok, Jesus, since you’ve asked, we’ll go out again.”  And then they hauled in the catch of their lifetime!  They caught enough fish to sink their boats!

So, if you’re interested in being a fisher of men, listen to what Jesus has to say–and don’t be surprised when you catch something . . . or someone.