Tag Archives: Illness

Chapter-a-Day

Stupid Question (Or Not)

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Stupid Question (or Not) (CaD John 5) – Wayfarer

When Jesus saw him lying there and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, he asked him, “Do you want to get well?”
John 5:6 (NIV)

Thirty-seven years he’s been an invalid. His family carried him to the pool of Bethesda in Jerusalem and dropped him off to chill with all the other handicapped people.

Archaeologists have identified the place. I’ve been there. Historians tell us that the handicapped would often congregate around pools and springs in ancient times. Gentile shrines of that day, dedicated to Asclepius, the Greek god of medicine, often contained pools. The pool of Bethesda was said to have had healing properties. It was believed that when the water in the pool appeared to have been “stirred by an angel” the first person into the water would be healed. Archaeologists say the pool was roughly the size of a football field. Imagine how many handicapped and lame people would be along side waiting for an angel to stir the water. Besides, it was the Passover, and hundreds of thousands of spiritual pilgrims were in the city that week.

There he sat on his mat in the crowd, as he had been doing every day for…how many years? I have to believe he knew the regulars. They were his homies, his posse, the other “broken” people who were a drain on their families and society in general. The lame, paralyzed, blind, deaf, and dumb masses had all been told that something was wrong with them. Not just physically, but spiritually.

“You must have sinned.”
“Your parents must have sinned.”
“Bad seed.”
“Cursed by God.”

So they would gather and wait for Gabriel to stir the drink. Had anyone really ever been healed by dropping in the drink when they spied a ripple? What if they couldn’t swim? Archaeologists say the pool was 20 feet deep. Are you really going to throw yourself in to drown? I don’t think there was a lifeguard.

Into this scene walks Jesus. He’s still relatively unknown in Jerusalem, especially among the masses of Passover pilgrims. He walks up to the man and asks…

“Do you want to get well?”

On the surface, it appears a stupid question to ask a handicapped person.

The further I’ve progressed in my Life journey the more I’ve come to appreciate the endless depth of that question.

“Do you want to get well?” Because being handicapped has become your identity. These are your people. This pool is your home. Do you really want to leave the only life you’ve known for almost 40 years?

“Do you want to get well?” Because being handicapped has made you special all these years. No pressure to provide. Everyone is required to care for you. Do you really want to go back to being just another regular schmo like the minions who pass by the pool and pretend not to see you every day?

“Do you want to get well?” Because the moment you step back in your family’s house they will say, “You’ve got to get a job tomorrow morning and start contributing instead of taking from the family all these years.” Seriously, do you want to labor every day in the quarry with your brothers, or would you rather just hang here with your homies?

“Do you want to get well?” Because there’s all sorts of passive aggressive power in playing the victim card.

“Do you want to get well?” Because being an oppressed minority can be an addictively powerful drug that justifies all sorts of nasty thoughts, feelings, words, and behaviors.

“Do you want to get well?” Because it’s really more comfortable to remain as you are rather than face the challenge of becoming the healthy, true self God is asking you to be.

Perhaps it’s not such a stupid question after all. Perhaps this is the question I should ask myself in all the stubbornly broken places of my own life.

Jesus heals the man. Reaching down to give the man a hand, Jesus says, “Pick up your mat and walk.” Jesus lifts the man to stand on suddenly sturdy legs, then slips anonymously into the bustling crowd of passover pilgrims.

The man is immediately condemned by the religious leaders for breaking code 356, paragraph 6, sub-section 2, line 8 of the religious law book: Carrying your mat on the sabbath “day of rest.”

I mulled that over in the quiet this morning. The religious rule-keepers are suffering from a very different sickness and paralysis of Spirit. It is, nevertheless, very real. Completely ignoring the miraculous power that has been displayed and the life-changing event that the man has experienced, they squint their beady little self-righteous eyes to pick at a minor infraction of their fundamentalist rule-book.

I’ve observed along my own journey individuals and groups with this same spiritual illness.

“Do you want to get well?”

In the quiet this morning, I’m considering the possibility that I know more people who would answer the question with either “No,” or “But, I’m not sick” than the number of those I know who would sincerely answer, “Yes, I do.”

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

“God is Grape”

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"God is Grape" (CaD Ps 102) – Wayfarer

Let this be written for a future generation, that a people not yet created may praise the Lord…
Psalm 102:18 (NIV)

One of the silver linings of our family’s COVID plague has been the extended amount of time we’ve had with our grandson. This includes both moments of three-year-old hilarity and DEFCON FIVE toddler tantrums.

One of the more endearing developments has been Milo’s insistence on praying for our meal every night. Some nights he insists that we hold hands and pray two or three random times during the meal as he prays:

“God is grape. God is good. And we thank Him for the food.”

The sweetness melts this grandparent’s heart, of course. But for me it’s also witnessing the innocent openness and sensitivity of Spirit in the wee one.

Today’s chapter, Psalm 102, is another ancient Hebrew song lyric that was written during a time of intense illness. In fact, the songwriter was not sure that he was going to make it. The song begins with the writer calling out to God to hear and quickly respond, then he pours out the angst-filled description of his medical and emotional symptoms.

As the song proceeds, the tone of the lyric makes an abrupt switch. The writer stops focusing on his momentary circumstance and, instead, focuses on God’s eternal nature and the perpetuity of life. It’s as though the writer is saying “Even if this is it for me, and my number is up, life will go on. That which is eternal perseveres. The universe continues to expand. The next generation will emerge, then the next, and then the next.”

One of the oft-forgotten themes of the Great Story is that of descendence.

“Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it.”
Genesis 1:28
“God said to Noah and his sons with him: ‘I now establish my covenant with you and your descendants.’”
Genesis 9:8-9
To Abram: “I will make you into a great nation.”
Genesis 12:2
Fix these words of mine in your hearts and minds; tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Teach them to your children, talking about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates, so that your days and the days of your children may be many in the land the Lord swore to give your ancestors, as many as the days that the heavens are above the earth.
Deuteronomy 11:18-21 (NIV)

The Great Story is a story because it continues, it goes on even when my role is over and I make my final exit. Even in the most tragic and bleak dystopian imaginings, the premise is that Life endures and the story continues.

In the quiet this morning I feel the lingering effects of the virus on my body and realize that at this point in this life journey I don’t bounce back the way I once did. I listen to the unbridled energy of my grandson whose body felt none of the viral effects and who will live his earthly journey without remembering these weeks shut-in with Papa and Yaya.

That doesn’t mean they aren’t important, for him or for me. No matter the narrative of my story, life will continue in his story. Life gets handed off, a little bit each day, as we sit around the dinner table, holding hands and listening to that little voice say “God is grape.”

Chapter-a-Day, Wayfarer Podcast

A Rocky Start

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A Rocky Start (CaD Ps 95) – Wayfarer

Today, if only you would hear his voice, “Do not harden your hearts as you did at Meribah, as you did that day at Massah in the wilderness…”
Psalm 95:7-8 (NIV)

Greetings from quarantine. It’s official that COVID has entered our home. I’m happy to report that symptoms are very mild and it’s only one person. That said, the lockdown at Vander Well Manor has begun.

Some days simply get off to a rocky start, and the past couple of days have been that way. Routines get thrown out of whack when you’re quarantined with the three-year-old and a pandemic throws life into a perpetual state of questions.

Some months get off to a rocky start, and this month has been that way. I won’t bore you with the details, but unexpected issues with work have kept the stress level consistently higher than normal since New Year’s.

Some years simply get off to a rocky start, and the past couple of days have been that way. The political tensions of the past four years, once again, spill over into the streets, through mainstream media, and all over social media.

I can’t say I’ve experienced much quiet this morning. It’s mostly been activity, swapping kid duties so others can work, and trying to sneak in a perusal of today’s chapter. That said, one of the great things about this chapter-a-day journey is that it always meets me right where I am, in this moment, and at this waypoint on life’s road.

The ancient Hebrew song lyrics of Psalm 95 begin with a call to praise. The songwriters calls the listener to sing, shout, and bow down in worship of the Creator and sustainer of life. He then makes a sudden shift and presents a warning that is a mystery to most casual readers. He warns his listeners to learn from the past and refuse to “harden your hearts” as happened “at Meribah and Massah.”

Anyone can read about the event that inspired the lyrics in Exodus 17 and Numbers 20. It happened as the Hebrews tribes escaped slavery in Egypt and struck out through the wilderness to the land God had promised. Even though God had repeatedly revealed His power in getting the Egyptians to let them go, to save them from the Egyptian army, and provide for their “daily bread,” they grumbled and complained.

I have written multiple times in these chapter-a-day posts about the Chain Reaction of Praise which begins with my decision to praise God in every circumstance which leads to activated faith which then leads to praying powerful prayers, which leads to overcoming evil with good, which leads to increasing spiritual life and maturity.

It struck me that what the songwriter of Psalm 95 is doing is calling me to the Chain Reaction of Praise. No matter what the circumstance, lead with praise. Choose to shout, sing, and bow down rather than grumble and complain. It goes against the grain of my human emotions, but that is the way of Jesus.

It’s been a rocky start to the day, the month, and the year. Life is not settling back into a peaceful, happy routine. I can grumble, complain and sink into despair. Or, I can follow the path of Jesus. I can follow the Spirit. I can choose to praise, to have faith, to pray, and to keep doing what is good and right in the moment despite my circumstances.

That’s what I’m endeavoring to do in this moment, on this day.

BTW: My daily posts and podcasts might be published sporadically, or not at all, for the next few weeks. Just sayin’. I’ll just be here praising and doing what’s good and right in each moment of quarantine.

Chapter-a-Day

“Sit On It”

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“SIT ON IT” (CaD Ps 39) – Wayfarer

“Surely everyone goes around like a mere phantom;
    in vain they rush about, heaping up wealth
    without knowing whose it will finally be.”
Psalm 39:6 (NIV)

Wendy and I are in Austin, Texas this week with some friends. It’s a getaway we had planned well over a year ago. We’re spending part of the day working and then enjoying the rest of our time together going out for meals in Austin’s amazing diversity of dining options.

Last night we went to a wonderful restaurant. It’s a popular spot for which reservations are required well in advance and they serve a crowd every night. Thus, we found ourselves looking around the lobby while we waited for our table. It doubled as a gift shop selling mostly jewelry. The hostess informed us that the jewelry came mostly from estate sales. As I browsed through the rings and the necklaces I wondered to myself about their original owners. Where were they from? What was it that attracted them to this strange-looking ring? Or, was it a gift they would never wear in a million years, but they never felt right getting rid of it?

There were few rings for men as I let my eyes wander through the table full of jewelry. I finally spied one large silver ring and lifted it up to look at it. It was definitely a men’s ring. It was flat on top and hand-stamped on it was the phrase “SIT ON IT,” a kitschy fad phrase made popular in my childhood by the character Fonzie in the television series Happy Days. It made me laugh. For the record, I chose not to spend the $95 they wanted for it.

As I mentioned in yesterday’s post, the four psalms from 38-41 were placed together in the compilation of ancient song lyrics because they had a common theme of confession, contrition, and lament. In today’s chapter, Psalm 39, David is waxing introspective in light of his physical ailments. He’s thinking about his own death. As with yesterday’s song, David clearly believes that his troubles are some form of divine discipline so he is crying out for mercy, healing, and deliverance. In the time of David, the Hebrew people had no developed understanding of eternity or life after death, so there is a brooding undertone as David considers his life journey’s brevity and the finality.

David’s song was structured symmetrically. The central theme of his song is placed in the center, with two verses on either side of it each with five lines in one and three lines in the other. The crux of what David is getting at is that central verse which I pasted at the top of the post:

“Surely everyone goes around like a mere phantom;
    in vain they rush about, heaping up wealth
    without knowing whose it will finally be.”

In the quiet this morning I couldn’t help but think about that stupid “SIT ON IT” ring I looked at last night. When I was a child, Happy Days was a cultural phenomenon and anything Fonzie said was repeated endlessly on the playground, including the shouting “Sit on it!” when telling a friend to piss off (which was actually a good thing because “piss off” would have gotten me in big trouble!).

Someone back in the 1970s bowed to popular culture and a viral fad. They bought a big silver ring with “SIT ON IT” hand-stamped on it. It ended up in an estate sale with who knows what other earthly possessions. One generation later it ended up on sale in the lobby of a restaurant in Austin, Texas.

It’s the same thing David was mulling over in his song. Everything I own and every possession I value will outlast me on this Earth. I couldn’t help but chuckle as I thought perhaps this morning this is an important reality, and the Spirit is telling me to “sit on it” for a few minutes and ponder.

David, as he always did, channels his brooding into a prayer. He proclaims hope in God to which he is clinging then cries out in a plea for healing and the chance to find joy in life before his number comes up and his earthly journey ends.

Today’s chapter is not a cheery pick-me-up for a day of vacation, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. I can easily intoxicate myself with endless distractions to the point I am never sober-minded about significant matters of Life and Spirit. Today’s chapter is a good reminder to fully enjoy the goodness of Life on this day that lies before me. A day may come when I, like David, desperately struggle to do so.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

The “Woe-Is-Me” Blues

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The “Woe-is-Me” Blues (CaD Ps 38) – Wayfarer

Come quickly to help me,
    my Lord and my Savior.
Psalm 38:22 (NIV)

I have very fond memories of my grandparents taking me on childhood visits to see Aunt Kate and Uncle Frank. It was typically an afternoon visit when the Dutch American tradition of mid-afternoon “coffee time” was strictly observed, though Aunt Kate always make tea and served some form of Dutch treats with it. Kate was my grandfather’s sister and was afflicted with what I assume is the same genetic form of hearing loss that also afflicted my grandfather and was passed to my father and then to me. She wore an early type of hearing aid that looked like a transistor radio that hung around her neck with a wired earbud that made it appear to my child-eyes that she was always listening to a ball game on the radio. Uncle Frank was legally blind, though he was a renowned gunsmith and he sightlessly crafted things with his hands that I couldn’t manage to craft with 20-20 vision and all the tools in the world. I once struck up a conversation with a complete stranger at a bar in Minnesota and somehow we ended up talking about Uncle Frank. The guy was seriously in awe and wanted me to try and get him Uncle Frank’s autograph (Frank had long since passed away).

As I grew older, it fascinated me to visit Kate and Frank and watch them navigate life together in their little house. She was his eyes. He was her ears. I never heard a word of complaint from either of them regarding their disabilities.

Illness and physical ailments are part of life’s journey. I recognize that, for some, it is significant to the point of being all-consuming. I count among my many blessings the fact that I have enjoyed relatively good health thus far in my trek. The genetic Vander Well hearing loss has been more annoying than debilitating in any way.

I have known many individuals along the way, like Kate and Frank, who have had to live with various forms of illness, weakness, and impairment. I have also observed the diverse ways that individuals handle their difficulties from those who courageously and wordlessly adapt to those who wallow ceaselessly in victim-status.

We are nearing the end of the first section in the anthology of ancient song lyrics that is the book of Psalms. The compilers ended “Book I” of the anthology with four songs with confession as a central theme. Today’s chapter, Psalm 38, is the first of them.

David is seriously ailing. The reason and nature of his wounds and illness are lost to history, but the warrior-king is ill to the point of distress and he hears the whispers (real or imagined) of those who are waiting for him to die so they can politically maneuver themselves into positions of power. He enjoyed a relatively long life and made his mark as a strong and heroic warrior. I can imagine that being physically diminished had to have been a struggle on multiple levels for him. So, as he always did, he channeled his emotions into song.

I have noticed that it is very human for those who have enjoyed health an strength to spiritually question sudden and drastic changes in their fortune. Job questions, agonizes, and laments at great length. So, it’s not surprising that David would wonder if there was something he did to bring on his own ill-fortune.

I have learned that one of the great things about the Psalms is that they often give words to my own very human feelings and emotions. I can identify with David’s own human emotions and struggles. Sometimes I encounter individuals who think that being a follower of Jesus is some kind of psychological crutch to avoid life’s harsh realities, but I have found it to be just the opposite. I can’t be a follower of Jesus if I’m not willing to fully embrace suffering life’s harsh realities. In doing so, it’s nice to know that others, like David, have been there before. I get to sing the blues along with him.

At the end of his “woe-is-me” blues David utters a simple plea for God to be near, and to help. I can almost feel him so depleted of life energy that all he can muster is a meager cry for help.

Sometimes on this life journey circumstance reduces us to compacted prayer,

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

Outward Groaning; Inward Growing

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Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.
2 Corinthians 4:16

For the past two months my life has been out of sync. You may have noticed that my posts have been more intermittent than usual. It started with the holidays when our kids and grandson, Milo, arrived home Scotland in early December. It was a joy having them with us for the month of December, though having a one-year-old (who is still trying to figure out normal sleep patterns) in the house tends to disrupt the normal schedule a bit. Then came Christmas, our daughter home from South Carolina, and, well, you get the picture.

I was looking forward to life getting back to normal after New Year’s. Then, on New Year’s Eve day, I was working out at Cross-Fit and I threw my back out on the rowing machine. Ugh. Unexpected and not fun at all. It’s been a slow recovery. A few days later, Wendy had surgery on her foot to take care of a pesky neuroma that’s been bothering her the past few years. That meant she was laid up on the couch with her foot up for a couple of weeks. In the meantime, I developed a nasty chest cold that would not let go (still hasn’t completely). Wendy and I were quite a pair laying next to each other on the couch. Our house became a domestic M*A*S*H unit. Add to the mix a marathon week of business travel and some brand new responsibilities at work. Oh yes, and did I mention about 18 inches of now and sub-zero temperatures? Yada, yada, yada. Blah, blah, blah. Again, you get the picture.

One of the things that I’ve learned along this life journey is not to fight against the terrain I am traversing in the moment. I’ve learned to lean in and embrace each season and what it brings with it, even if it’s not what I want it to be. December was joyful disruption. It was a time to lean in to family, guests, and celebrations that fubar the normal flow of life and schedule. January has not been joyful disruption. It’s been a rocky road of injury, illness and the subsequent need to focus our energies on rest and recovery. Which has meant sleeping in a lot of mornings, and not getting to my regular chapter-a-day post.

And so, in the quiet this morning, I silently identified with Paul’s words, pasted at the top of this post. In the past few years I’ve noticed distinct changes in my body. I need more sleep than ever before. When I get sick, I require more rest. It takes a little longer to recuperate than before. I need regular, and more focused, exercise for my health and well-being. In other words, my body is showing the very natural signs of its age. Spiritually, however, I feel as though I’m in a time of unprecedented growth. My spirit feels more alive than ever. I’m making new discoveries. I find myself pushing further up, and further in. I’m less distracted by the silliness of this life, and more focused on Spirit and truth. It’s awesome.

Outwardly groaning, inwardly growing. That’s the terrain right now, and I’m embracing it. It is what it is. I’m sorry my posts have been a little sporadic of late. I’m getting back to normal. It’s just taking a little bit longer than I expected.

Cheers, my friend. Have a great week!

 

Chapter-a-Day

Hope

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The_Vision_of_The_Valley_of_The_Dry_BonesThey say, ‘Our bones are dried up and our hope is gone; we are cut off.’ Therefore prophesy and say to them: ‘This is what the Sovereign Lord says: My people, I am going to open your graves and bring you up from them….”
Ezekiel 37:11b-12a (NIV)

Over the past year, the news on the Vander Well home front has been less than encouraging. Late last summer my mother was diagnosed in the early stages of Alzheimer’s disease. In February of this year my dad was diagnosed with multiple myeloma, a treatable but incurable form of cancer in his bone marrow. This past Sunday dad told us that, based on the available data and the doctors’ formulas, they guesstimate that he has around 3.5 years left in this life journey.

As I read this morning’s chapter, I found myself identifying with the groans of the Hebrew exiles. There are times in life when we feel dried up, cut off, and without hope. But, the point of today’s chapter was God’s response which was to provide a word of hope. To an exiled people who had seen more than their fair share of death, God delivered through Ezekiel a message of homecoming, resurrection, and life.

I have known many who have battled terminal illnesses over the years. I have observed that one of the key differences in outcomes is determined by simple differences in attitudes. I am reminded this morning of God saying, “I have set before you life and death. Now, choose life, so that you and your children may live.” I recognize that there are stretches in each of our life journeys when we are free to choose to focus on despair and hopelessness, or to choose to focus on life and hope.

I pray that I always choose the latter.