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.  

On Being A Dad

I have two natural sons.  One born in 1994 and one in 1998.  These boys have grown into really impressive young men.  My oldest son has recently graduated high school.  He is preparing to leave for Air Force basic training where he'll begin a career serving our country.

My younger son is an accomplished drummer.  He's still in high school, where his people skills and personality are gaining him a lot of attention.  My sons are articulate, exceptionally smart, have great senses of humor, and are a lot of fun to be around.  I love these young men dearly.

My wife has a son who was born just before we started dating.  He is now five years old and he knows me as Daddy.  He's a talkative little guy whose dream is to be a superhero.  He says that his favorite superheroes are, in this order, the Incredible Hulk (because he has huge muscles), Jesus (because he's the strongest of them all), and me.  

My wife and I married last August.  She is a wonderful woman and a great mom.  She's done an amazing job with Tiegen, and we're very excited about the upcoming arrival of our daughter, Palin Nichole.  She should make her debut around November 13.

I recently got the opportunity to attend my oldest son's high school graduation.  It was the first time I'd seen Adam or Isaac in a very long time.  I'd like to be able to say that I had a major role in shaping these young men into the people they are today, but I can't.  I haven't been there for them as I should have.  Thinking of the time and distance between us tears my heart out.  I have longed for those boys every day since before they were born.  Being separated from them by an unpleasant divorce never altered that fact.  Anyone who is close to me knows that there are times when I would just withdraw into myself and sit in silence because I could think of nothing but my sons.  I'm so grateful for the opportunity to begin rebuilding the bridges that time and distance have eroded.  As I recently sat across a table from them in a restaurant, I see that these are fascinating young men who, even if I weren't their dad, I would want to get to know.  The depth of their thought processes and the warmth of their personalities move me.  There's a light inside them that draws people to them.

My high school reunion is this week, and I was asked to write a short autobiographical record of the past twenty-five years.  As I sat down at the computer and pondered where I've been and what I've done, the most vividly emotional moments were those spent with Adam, Isaac, and Tiegen.  Jobs I've had and places I've lived fade into nothingness next to the memories built with these three guys.  Going to a little northern Nevada county fair with Adam when he was very little, rolling down a grassy hill with Isaac in a park in Oregon, building a "fort" and a cannon for them in Alaska, and splashing in a little plastic pool with Tiegen on a hot summer day.  This is my highlight film.  I haven't always been the best dad.  I haven't been where I needed to be when I needed to be there.  But the love I have for my sons is beyond description.

In November, Palin Nichole Land will be born.  Once again I'll be blessed to carry one of my children with paternal pride and introduce her to the world.  Once again I'll get the joy of watching through new eyes of wonder as she discovers things we've long forgotten.  Once again I'll share the blessing of cuddling with my little one.  I long for that day, and fear it as well.

I don't deserve the blessings who call me Dad.  Adam, with his depth and compassion.  Isaac, with his humor and unnerving wisdom.  Tiegen, with his inquisitive mind and thoughtfulness.  And now, Palin, who won't call me anything for a while.  God has truly blessed me, and I am grateful beyond words.

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.