The Road Just Traveled

Another year has come and gone. And once again, I have a name. I never named any of “my” years before three years ago, and I’ll be happy to see the habit fall away again if it means life is simmering down to a half-routine, half-normal one.

I’ve made a list. A list of all the things we have at the beginning of 2019 that we did not have at the beginning of 2018…and it’s staggering: 

  • A brand new role in occupational ministry that we enjoy, and which has brought back some dearly-missed and very welcome companions, for instance purpose.
  • A new State in the south of the USA––1st time living in Georgia, and we love the warmer climate. (However, our move to get here was certainly nothing new—it was #19 (in 23 years of marriage)!)
  • Scores of new regular prayer supporters, not to mention our own better follow-through with more regular updates than we’ve had in many years.
  • 74! financial supporters of our brand new ministry, 53 of them monthly. Another 10 who donated multiple times in 2018. We’re simply overwhelmed.
  • A house here in Georgia that was perfect for our family and move-in ready when we bought it. (The story of how we got in it, when we were buying out of state and I was making near-minimum wage in NY, is an absolute miracle story. A few dozen of you have been told the story because you played a role in it.)
  • Three new vehicles. A second and third car for Tammy and the teens, then a motorcycle for Dann. One of the cars and the bike were gifts, if you can believe it. (You may recall that our existing 8-passenger vehicle was also a gift in 2016. And you may recall that I had been given a bike in NY as well, but before we moved, I felt clearly led to give it away. Now here I’ve been given another one! He sure speaks our love languages, doesn’t he?)
  • 8 happy kids who love where they live.
  • A great new church family (though we miss regular interaction with those who became family in our NY church).
  • Stability
  • Contentment about the future, etc., etc.

It is, without doubt, a year worth naming––the 3rd in a row*––because 2018 was another dramatic year for our family, and truly nothing compares to these three years.**

I’m calling 2018:The Year of Victory.

‘Cause did you read that list? Sure, 2018 may not have been one non-stop bed-a-roses, but… Did you read that list? Major changes. Major breakthroughs. Major questions that were up in the air for what felt like forever during our two limbo years in NY… answered

Answered! I gotta say, even for someone who relishes questions, I’m loving answers.

God has been faithful, and he was faithful all the while. Faithful when our faith wavered and faithful when it didn’t. He has brought us out of the woods.

We are so, so thankful to be where we are, doing what we do, and being supported by the people that support us (a not-insignificant contingent of those being friends from our New York stopover, I must add). 

Surely one of the darker clouds of 2018 would have to be our yet-unsold house still sitting empty in NY. A tracing of that emotional roller coaster through the year would fill pages; I’ll save you the navel-gazing. In fact, some time after the thought “Year of Victory” first came to mind last fall, I absolutely thought, “I cannot use that name if that house remains unsold come Dec. 31.” But that changed, too, and there have been many moments of victory along the way there, as well. Moments of faith. Of recommitment to trusting in the dark. Of slowly learning to disengage “the goodness of God” from attachment to a thing in my life that continues to appear to be only hurting me. 

The Lord has brought our hearts to a place of peace; I know He is taking care of us. The house will sell, and the current taxes/utilities being “wasted” are His business. We are also so very grateful to a couple of folks to whom we owe portions of the house sale money for their patience and understanding in waiting. (“Thanks for not tossing us in debtor’s prison!”) 

And so: I’m totally on board, and I’ve fully embraced it: 2018 is our Year of Victory. It’s true. And we’re so grateful. 





*2016 having been “The Year of Suffering” (and I make no apologies for that name) and 2017, though holding its own share of suffering as well, “The Year of the Lord’s Provision.”

**“Happy Adoption Day!” to Everett, btw, who came home to us three years ago today.

My Dad’s Funeral

On Saturday we buried my father. The funeral service itself was quite beautiful. Lots of people and lots of tears both Saturday and Friday at the viewing. Something that stuck out to me was how many people had felt that my dad “especially liked” them. At the funeral I delivered the pastoral message and what follows is my unchanged––and punctuated/formatted for speaking not writing––text.

 

Saturday, April 7, 2018

“Lord,” Martha said to Jesus, “if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But I know that even now God will give you whatever you ask.”

Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise again.”

Martha answered, “I know he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day.”

Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die.”

Everything within us resists Death.

“If only…”

…Martha moans. Full of regret. Her brother Lazarus gone.

Two paragraphs later, her sister Mary    same thing 

“If only you had been here…”

We don’t like our loved ones suddenly ripped from us.

If only…I could have had more time…    one more chance to…

I myself have tickets two weeks from now (Chicago/NY). 

My calendar that day reads:   “Breakfast with Dad”

Me, my dad, my 17 yo. 

It was to have been the first stop on my son’s “becoming a man” trip

The oldest son’s oldest son’s oldest son getting some manhood advice

My dad talking man-to-man to my son

Now that breakfast will never take place. 

And I don’t like that.   !! It’s nearly first thing Mom said @midnight:02 night of Dad’s death. “Oh, Dann…I’m at hospital…he’s not going to be able to do breakfast with you.”

And she wept.

Like we are weeping today.

None of us will sit down to another meal with Larry Johnson. 

No more Sammy’s Pizza. 

No more plastic gold bowls with 4 breakfast cereals poured to precision in both quantity and order. 

No more piping hot…anything. 

These are the kings of things that make us so desperately SAD today. [We’re going to miss him!]

However. However.

We will eat together again. We will sit down to eat together at the marriage supper of the Lamb.

And that’s what makes us so desperately HOPEFUL today. 

This isn’t the end!

Though I cannot prove that to you if you doubt it. 

In fact, God himself made His world in such a way that we will forever fall short of even being able to prove he exists! 

Not until He comes again on the clouds. 

********Because what God ultimately wants is love freely given.********

We love Because He first loved us.

[Sing??“Oh, how I love Jesus, because…”]

And ONLY God’s love can explain how Larry Robert Johnson should have loved so many of you. 

A year or so ago    visiting our house and     guys hanging drywall

Apart from the love of God, I cannot explain why one of these kids, who failed to graduate, had no vehicle or driver’s license, supporting a girlfriend and a son but no stable housing, should say to me: 

“I like your dad. I don’t know, he’s cool. I really like him.” 

It’s not because my dad was actually “cool.” Far from it. Right? He didn’t know the first thing about cool. Or anything about anything that this kid would have cared about in his life. 

But he LOVED!

He was honestly interested. 

Talked with this guy. Gave him a Bible. Told him about Jesus being the Way. Jesus being Truth. Jesus being Life. Quoted lots of other Scriptures while they talked. 

My dad saw this  young man’s potential because he saw him for what he truly was: 

a one-of-a-kind human being created with glory and for glory. 

[All I can recall saying was, “Dad, these guys aren’t doing any work while they’re talking with you… Can you dial it back a bit?]

He said to me: “That boy is close. He’s ready. He’s not far from the Kingdom.” 

And that’s how my dad saw the world. 

A lot of you experienced that, too. It might have even been a fairly random encounter with a quirky, corny, pretty particular old man, but somehow you knew he liked you. Acted like he loved you. 

Cause he did.     Cause God does.

The day after my dad died, I talked to grandson Christopher on the phone. “I’m so sorry, Christopher; you’ve lost your grandpa.” 

Do you know his immediate response? “Yeah, he really loved me.” 

Such a deep, deep longing that we ALL share: to be unconditionally loved. 

And when we find it. When we know it! It FREES us to also love.

Nothing looks more Christlike on us than when we love.

Though love is a always a risk. It always hurts. There will be loss. 

We’ve lost him. Our time with my dad is finished. 

Today, we honor him, and his life. We celebrate the great guy that he was. 

But NOW he meets JESUS face to face! 

He’s with his Maker! No more tears for him!

[In fact, I can already picture my dad’s smile on the day that I join him up there. (Though for some reason I’m having trouble imagining away that missing tooth he had there at the end…)]

This is the HOPE we have.

Hope for the next life is the only thing that makes sense of this one. 

Christ in this life is the only thing that can make sense of Death when it comes. 

And we see Death for what it really is: 

Just a door. From “reality” into REALITY.

From I Corinthians: 

“Death has been swallowed up in victory! Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death is your sting? 

“The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. BUT thanks be to God! He GIVES US the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. 

“Therefore, my dear brothers and sisters, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain.”

We celebrate Larry. 

Trust  Christ.

God be with you.