Unpacking While Packing...

My family is moving this week. We're moving back out to Mom and Dad's old farmhouse in Walnut Grove. My mom vacated the premises after her stroke a couple of years ago, and since then the place has fallen into dire disrepair.

We're on a time crunch, as we have agreed to vacate our current house by Sunday. Therefore, all the cleanup of the old farmhouse has to be done each evening after I get off work and we'll move our belongings over there on Saturday and Sunday.

We spent a good portion of yesterday cleaning out the house. Being out in the country, when there was no human movement, the mice took up residence in force. In response to the population boom in rodents, the snakes moved in thinking it was a smörgåsbord of  furry little creatures. So, we're finding empty rodent nests, droppings, and snakeskin all over the house. It's quite an undertaking to clear it all out and make it livable, a task which my wife has shown great fortitude in attacking. I've been under the weather for a couple of days, so yesterday's physical labor was less than stellar on my part.

As I'm going through the items in the house, I'm uncovering a lot of memories of my mom and dad. Faithful readers and friends will know that my dad was killed in a tractor accident on the farm in October of 2005. Though it's been nearly a decade, sometimes the memories of my father are overwhelming, as is the sense of loss. It's not as if I'm walking around in a grief-stricken daze. It's simply that sometimes the emotions wash over me and I miss my dad more than the average day.

Apparently, delving into all the personal effects around the house have triggered these emotions, not just in waves, but in tsunamis. I find myself becoming very sullen and quiet as the liquid grief washes through my soul. Yesterday I came across Dad's wallet. It was a weird sensation opening my dad's billfold and seeing his ordination card and ID in there. It's impossible to describe the feeling as I looked at it.

Rather than being a debilitating factor in my life, though, I've found that thoughts of my father bring me joy. Yes, there's the pain of loss and the loneliness that comes with wishing I could be with him and talk to him about life. However, I think back to the laughter he brought, to the tangible change he wrought in so many lives and I have to smile.

I have such a rich heritage. I had the privilege of watching my mom and dad pour themselves into the lives of countless people over the years. I had the dumbfoundingly awesome experience of seeing, first-hand, what a true heart of ministry and service was. My dad wasn't perfect. He'd be the first to say it. But through trials and tests, his character and commitment to Christ were always evident.

As I look at his belongings, the only physical remnants I have of his existence, I smile with blurry eyes. My dad loved me, and I him. My dad loved God and served Him until his dying day. My dad cherished my mother. He was a hard worker at everything he did. And, even when there was little recognition of his service, he still did it... because it was right.

I miss my dad, but I look forward to embracing him in eternity.

Just a Few Hours To Go...

Thirty year-old Lauren Rousseau was a permanent substitute teacher at Sandy Hook Elementary.  On December 14, 2012 she went to work like any other day.  Anyone who has ever worked with young children knows that the process of corralling youngsters is very similar to the job of herding cats.  This was Lauren's job, and she was hard at it that day.

Thirty-eight year-old Anthony Tempesta was a husband and father who worked as a bond broker for Cantor Fitzgerald in New York.  On September 11, 2001, he was working on the 105th floor of One World Trade Center.  It was his daughter's seventh birthday.  His wife had called him because their front door had been open when she awoke that morning.  He'd stayed on the phone with her while she'd checked the house for intruders.

Army Pfc. Michael Pearson was just twenty-two years old.  He had left a local furniture business job to join the military and have the opportunity to serve his country.  He was known for having a great sense of humor and loved "horsing around with his nieces and nephews."  He was at Fort Hood Army Base in Texas on November 5, 2009.

Lori Ann Lewis-Rivera was a wife and mother who was simply going about her daily activities, vacuuming out her minivan at a Shell station in Kensington, MD on October 3, 2002.  Life doesn't get more normal than that, right?  The mundane tasks of an ordinary day.  However, like those listed above her and like so many more, her time on earth was about to come to an end.

On Monday, two explosions rocked the finish-line area of the Boston Marathon.  Three died and scores were injured. Later, MITPD officer Sean Collier was murdered.  In West, TX, a fertilizer plant exploded killing fourteen and injuring nearly two hundred others.  An 8-month-old girl was killed and her mother badly injured when a driver hit a bus stop in a St. Louis suburb.

The people I've listed here were just like you and me.  They had families, lives, jobs and daily duties.  They had bills, stresses, successes and failures. They were imperfect yet beautiful creatures who were trying to do the best they could in the world.

If you're like me at all, your heart's desire is to give your children a better life than your own.  You work hard, whether in an office, a factory, or in your home.  You end your days tired from your daily activities and you get up in the morning to repeat the cycle.  You have bills that you sometimes have to struggle to pay.  You have stresses from employers, neighbors or family members that cause you to sometimes lose sleep.

Sound familiar?  It's a story as old as time.  We all have such circumstances and stresses.  We have people we love and who love us.  We have certain obligations that we spend a large amount of time trying to meet.  We have joys and we have struggles.  It's just part of being human.

The thing that struck me today, in the wake of this week's violence and mayhem was the suddenness of the events that took their lives.  These people--and the countless just like them--were simply going about their business.  Do you think they awoke on their fateful morning thinking that they had just a few hours to go?

Probably not.  And neither did I this morning when I left for work.  Neither did you when you started your day today.  And yet, today could be that day.  It can come by human hand, by illness, or by happenstance.  Life can be extinguished in an instant. James 4:14 says:  "Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes."

It sounds pretty ominous, doesn't it?  Yet, in another verse, scripture says: "So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."

So, what's my point?  The Bible tells us how fleeting life is, yet we're not supposed to worry about it.  Interesting, and so counter-intuitive, right?  It's a piece of cake, actually.  

Yes, life is fleeting.  Yes, life can be snuffed out or radically changed in an unexpected instant.  And no, we are not to worry about it.  And... yes, it is possible!  You see, when you've given your life to Christ, committed your very existence and all your plans and ambitions to Him, the "peace of God, which passes all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:7)  When the Spirit of God thrives within you, there is no room for fear.  God is love and "perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love." (1 John 4:18)

When you've given yourself to Christ, you recognize His sovereignty and His power.  He is then in charge of your well-being.  If He is sovereign in our lives, then we must choose to believe that He has the right to decide what comes our way.  That way we can live in that peace that passes understanding--that peace that, no matter what's going on around us, places its trust in our sovereign God.  That's true peace.  That's peace that doesn't rely on my strengths or weaknesses, but places trust in God, Who has no weaknesses!  

You can have this peace.  All you have to do is stop relying on yourself or others for your assurance.  Turn to God, Who is the Author and Finisher of our faith.

If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to contact me.  My email address is 2010.michaelland@gmail.com.  

The Things We Say...

Recently, I became aware of a family who had announced to their friends and family that they were expecting a baby.  Such joyous news!  But then, right after announcing the pregnancy, they suffered a miscarriage.  The wife posted a heartfelt blog entry about it, explaining the situation and her deep sense of loss.

My heart breaks for this family.  I know the pain that comes with loss.

One of the things that fascinate me about social networking is how obvious it becomes that people are oblivious to what they read. People have responded to her blog post in some of the most insensitive ways.  It reminded me of some of the things people said to my family and me after my father was suddenly killed in an accident.

People often don't know what to say when someone has suffered a loss.  It can be awkward and uncomfortable.  Often, people parrot the same cliches they've heard all their lives.  These words are intended as a form of comfort, but usually add to the suffering.

So... as a public service to those who have been fortunate enough to have avoided suffering serious loss in their own lives, I have decided to bring to your attention certain phrases and statements that should be avoided if you find yourself speaking to the victim of such a tragedy.

1. He/She's in a better place.  Please don't say this.  To a person who has just lost a loved one, this phrase adds insult to injury.  The surviving members of the family are wounded, and wounded people are often incapable of thinking in the abstract.  The person to whom you are talking is trying to deal with deep personal pain.  They are trying to comprehend their loss and how in the world they are going to live their lives without their loved-one.  To say the deceased is in a better place comes across as calloused and insensitive.  They want their loved-one with them, and their emotional turmoil often prohibits them from grasping the simplistic truth you're trying to convey.
2. Everything happens for a reason.  Oh boy.  Explain to me how my father flipping over on a tractor and crushing himself to death in front of my mother could possibly be "for a reason."  Actually, don't.  Because if you try to do so while I'm in the midst of my unexpected grief, you'll be driving the dagger deeper into my heart and twisting.  Please don't be like the ignorant and seemingly heartless man who told me that my father had probably been killed so that I would move to Missouri and lead worship in a particular church.  There are no words for this kind of insensitivity.
3. In the case of a miscarriage:  You know, one in four pregnancies end in miscarriage.  That wounded parent doesn't care about statistics!  How about this for a statistic.  Everybody dies. Do you want me to say that to you when you've lost the person who is dearest in your life?  Would that be comforting?  No, that would make me a heartless beast.  Yes, death is common.  However, it is not common to the person suffering the loss.  Think.  Think.  Think.  "Even the fool, when he is silent, people will think he's wise."
4. Also in the case of a miscarriage:  You'll be good parents someday.  Really?  And what is stopping me from being a good parent today?  Oh, the death of my baby?  Yeah, maybe the reason my baby died is because I wouldn't be a good parent right now.  
5. You can try again later.  I don't know about you, but the last thing on my mind when Krystal and I had a miscarriage was, "hey, we can try again."  Seriously, this was not just a simple mishap to us, and it isn't to other parents, either.  This wasn't my favorite team losing the playoffs.  It was a baby dying.  Please recognize the importance of the event in the person's life.

If you notice some sense of hostility in my writing, you're right.  This topic touches a nerve with me.  As you know, I lost my father in a tragic accident.  When I was suffering from that, I realized how hollow and meaningless the things people say can be.  Krystal and I have also suffered the loss of a child through miscarriage.  Those wounds cut deep.  We, fortunately, hadn't announced the pregnancy to anyone--a fact that saved us the heartache of everyone we know trying to comfort us with canned responses.  Those who found out about it did, in fact, use some of the same phrases listed above.

There are those, though, who are exceptionally sensitive to a mourner's plight.  When my dad died, there was a young minister who came to sit with Mom.  He hugged her and sat with her silently.  He simply held her hand and sat silently, letting her know that he was there to support her in her time of loss.  This young man showed more wisdom than the hundreds who thought it necessary to fill the silence with hollow words.

My words may sound harsh.  If so, I apologize.  If they offend you, it's probably because you haven't experienced first hand the loss of a dear one.  Please take my words to heart.  The wisest comforters are those who sit silently, offering their presence as support, and not their words.

Two Roads

I have been asked to minister at a funeral.  The fortunate part of that statement is that the person is still alive.  Being able to consider the sermon one would share at a person's funeral with lots of time to spare is not a luxury often afforded to a minister.  Normally one hears that a person has passed, is contacted by the family, and must prepare quickly for the service.

Having the luxury of time, my prayers and overactive mind have given rise to some thoughts I'd like to share with my readers.

Recently, a talented major celebrity passed away.  As with many celebrities, this one's life was pockmarked with drug abuse, erratic behavior and tumultuous relationships.  The lives of many celebrities vividly demonstrate the old adage that money (or fame) can't buy happiness.

One of the things my father taught me from his many years of experience in ministry, is that people tend to try to focus upon the positives in a person's life, usually to the complete exclusion of the negatives.  He described situations in which he'd preached the funerals of violent gang members who were buried with switch-blade knives and bottles of alcohol, and people spoke of what wonderful, caring individuals they'd been. 

I suppose it's a normal emotional reaction.  We, as loved ones, long to hold onto positive memories to help us with our grief.  Deep is the agony experienced by one who has lost a loved-one whose choices and actions have led them to an eternity of damnation.

The problem is, denial doesn't change facts.

We can attempt to canonize a person, turning that person into a saint in our own minds, when in fact, the person's life has been the complete opposite of an example of dedication to Christ.

Now, before I go any farther, let me acknowledge those of my readers, faithful as they are, whose sole mission in life seems to be attempting to remind me of my unworthiness to judge others.  We will not take this opportunity to resurrect our recent discussion on that topic.  The following statement will suffice:  Throughout scripture we are given the outward signs of a life of dedication to God.  Had God not wanted us to pay attention to those signs, He would not have included them in the Holy Record.  The fact is, some people follow Christ and some do not.  Those who follow Christ live lives that are different in obvious and evidentiary ways.  If your life does not show those outer differences, that's your fault, not those around you with eyes and ears.  Is the life in question accurately described by the biblical explanation of the fruit of the Spirit?  That's what we should all be asking ourselves.

Back to the funeral I've been asked to officiate:  the person's life has not been one of a believer.  It has been one marred with self-destructive decisions, sinful activities, and ultimately, the earthly consequences of those choices and actions.  This makes it tough for a minister.  One must be honest but comforting.  One must tell the truth while still offering hope.  Granted, the person is still alive, and therefore there is a possibility of salvation.  I pray fervently for that to occur.  However, this blog is an intellectual exercise based upon the suppositions outlined above. 

When I was a youth pastor, I ran into an interesting situation.  Another leader whispered in my ear that a friend of one of our young people had just died and the kid in our youth group had asked if he could say a prayer before our group.  Well, of course!  So the boy came up and began praying for the soul of the boy who had just died in a car wreck on his way home from a drug party.

Needless to say, this was a difficult situation.  Obviously this boy's heart was broken at the loss of his friend.  Obviously, he had not been taught what the Bible says about life, choices and judgment.  ...And...this was one of those unrehearsed moments wherein a leader must rely solely upon the prompting of the Holy Spirit and gently correct some misconceptions.

When he was finished with his prayer--imploring God to give his friend one last chance, to somehow offer his dead friend one last little bit of mercy and save his soul--I returned to the front of the room and gently explained that, according to scripture, there comes a time when there are no more chances.  I opened Hebrews 9 and described to them how we all have a date with death, and after that: judgment.  I shared with them how, sadly, many do not make the right choice and go on to an eternity without God.  But by the same token, we who are alive have the opportunity to choose to dedicate our lives to Christ, thereby sealing our destiny to be with Him throughout eternity.

We all have that choice.  Some choose eternal life, some eternal damnation.  This is not a popular subject, but it's a topic of which Jesus spoke.  In Matthew 7, Jesus spoke the following truth:  "Enter the narrow gate, for the gate is wide and the road is spacious which leads to destruction, and many are those who are going in it. How narrow is the gate and strict the way that leads to life, and few are those who find it!"

Sadly, most of the world has chosen the broad path.  This superhighway, unlike the one in the image to the left, is a one-way road.  It's broad and easy to travel.  There is a smooth surface, graceful curves, and luxurious accommodations along the way.  It's the scenic route.  It is surrounded by beautiful enticements that grab the attention of all who travel there, like billboards pointing to the next attraction.  Every kind of human enjoyment can be found on this road.  Companionship, excess, fulfillment, it's all there.  While on this road, your self-image is protected by those who will reinforce it.  Of course, they reinforce it only because they are traveling in exactly the same direction, headed to the same unknown destination.

Many who call themselves Christians are on this same road.  Life seems great!  They have great friends, a promising career, big goals and plans... Life seems to be flowing so smoothly for them.  They go to church and walk away feeling better about themselves than when they went in.  The music they listen to assures them that they are on the right path.  They've discovered that they can still walk alongside their unchurched friends and do so many of the same things they did before they began to call themselves Christians.

There's a reason things are going so well for them.  One rarely finds opposition when one is traveling en masse with multitudes of others.  They are coasting on the same flowing river as their comrades.  They are going the same direction as their worldly friends, their boss, and sadly, many of their church friends.  Their life isn't a threat to the world because they, too, are worldly.  They're traveling the wide road.  It is the path of least resistance.  They don't need to take a stand, because their beliefs are secondary to their desire to succeed in their own eyes and the eyes of their peers.

I believe that many entire churches are traveling together along this road.  They are rejoicing, singing, dancing and partying as they pass the billboards that declare upcoming attractions.  They pat each other on the back, rejoicing in their freedom as they live however they want to live, believing that the blood of Christ gives them that liberty.  They focus on a stress-free Christianity in which standards are all but nonexistent and anyone who stands by the doctrines that have been held for centuries is considered outdated and dogmatic.  They cast aside anyone who doesn't enthusiastically race down this broad avenue of reckless abandon, or who doesn't passionately pursue the enjoyment they claim while waving the banner of their type of Christianity.

This road, though easy, scenic, and apt to gain the affection of those around you, leads to destruction.  It is not a matter of if, but when, Easy Street finds its travelers plunging headlong into the abyss.

You may say I'm judgmental.  That's alright.  I've been accused of that by many on this road of which I speak.  Their accusations of judgmentalism do not dissuade me.  You see, I hold up the light of the Word of God and allow you to gauge your own compliance with it.  For, in that light, we are forced to come face to face with our own frailties.  It is not out of malice that I bring you to this light, but out of love.  For, if I didn't love you, I would let you blindly follow the broad path upon which you now travel.  I would stand idly by and smile at your enjoyment, rejoicing that you had found some temporal peace--even though that so-called peace and enjoyment will one day be your undoing.  I love you enough to warn you.  I love you enough to shout against the roar of the traffic and say stop! You're heading in the wrong direction!  This road will destroy you!

Recently, when I commented that it took more than sprinkling the name of Jesus on a life lived in debauchery, one well-meaning friend exhorted me that if I was going to err, I should always err on the side of grace.  What he seemingly meant was that my stance on that issue was too strong.  We were indirectly discussing the death of a celebrity whose drug habit and hard living had brought her life to an unfortunate end.  My stating that true Christians would be known by their fruits apparently, in this person's eyes, did not demonstrate grace.  This is a common approach to Christianity, although it is a failed one.  It is used often to chastise those who proclaim that there are still standards by which Christians must live.  It has become the churchy version of the philosophy "live and let live."


The problem is, when we follow that philosophy, we fail in the calling Christ has placed upon our lives.  We fail to tell the truth of the Gospel.  We fail to see changed lives because we aren't showing people how to change.

That's why I've chosen to walk the other path.  Its far more treacherous.  It's a difficult hike.  But it leads in the right direction.

How narrow is the gate and strict the way that leads to life, and few are those who find it!

This is often a solitary journey.  People turn away at the thought of such a long and laborious walk.  But it leads to Life!  Though the journey is long, though the gate is narrow, though the cliffs and obstacles seem limitless, Life awaits!  Jesus said, "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life!"  When you discover that He is the way, you realize that the journey isn't treacherous at all, for He is the journey!  Then you can stand up for the Truth, for He is the Truth!  And then you'll realize that in Him we live and move and have our very being!  The narrow way leads to Life, for He is the Life!

So it's alright when people reject us as we walk in the opposite direction as they, for they rejected Him as well.  It's alright when they attempt to throw obstacles in our path, for they rose up against Him, too.  It's alright when they call us old fashioned, for He never changes.  His Truth never changes.  His standards never change.

We all have a choice... a choice of two roads.  You can be like water, following the path of least resistance.  The problem with that is, though it's easy, it always leads downhill.  Or you can take the solitary road.  You can walk apart from the group, as you've been called to.

Friends will betray you.  They will try to make you question your stand.  They will--the very ones who have publicly professed their love of you--publicly chastise you and even call into question your Christianity.  It is the only way they can make themselves feel superior, for the life of the unregenerated is all about feeling superior to others.  It started with Lucifer before the dawn of time, and will continue until judgment day.  Don't be dismayed.  Don't give in.  Don't give up.  Follow the Way.  Walk in the Truth.  Jesus came that you might have Life, and that life more abundantly.  Don't lose sleep when they mock you.  Observe the haughtiness in their attacks and the false-humility they put on display.  Observe how their attacks come both publicly and in back-handed ways.  This is the deception in their hearts that is speaking.  Pray for them, weep for them, and keep walking.  When they see their destruction coming, they'll be calling out to you.  Keep your eyes on the Way.  Continue to speak the Truth.  Let them see the Life of Christ in you.

So dust off your hiking shoes.  We've got a hill to climb.  Are you with me?


So, I guess now I know what I'll be preaching at the funeral.