40 Years of Ministry Grace

This morning the congregation that I presently serve as a part-time assistant pastor chose to recognize my 40th Anniversary in the pastoral ministry.  I was honored.  I was humbled. I was amazed.  I was saddened.

I was honored because it is an honor to serve as a pastor.  To bear the Word of God and administer Christ's Sacraments to the people of God is the highest honor any man could ever attain.  No one is worthy of such an honor, I least of all.  When I think of the miserable thoughts that have filled my brain, the hurtful words that have crossed my lips, and the multiple failures that have marked my sin-scarred life, I am amazed that God could use a sinner such as me.  It is truly a miracle of His grace!

I was humbled to think of the lives God has touched and the people He has blessed through me.  I was so ill-prepared when I first began my pastoral ministry in Sterling, IL.  I knew so little but thought I knew so much, it's a testimony to His power and grace that God was able to use me.  But He did, in spite of me.

I was amazed because there was a time when I never thought I would make it to a lifetime of ministry.  When my dreams for a particular ministry fell apart while serving in Hillside, IL, I wasn't sure I wanted to continue in ministry.  But God wanted me to, and He continued to work through me. When I was attacked and accused in Wayzata, MN I didn't think I would be able to carry on.  Amazingly, when I threw myself on the mercy of God, His strength was enough and He kept on using me.  When He gave me wonderful new opportunity for ministry in Tacoma, WA, I was amazed that the joy of serving in pastoral ministry returned as He continued to use me.

I was also saddened today that my life-long partner in ministry was not by my side.  I could never have become a pastor or served successfully in ministry without Diana.  It was very hard to greet God's people today as they congratulated me on my milestone without her by my side.  Yet, I realized that this was God's plan as well.  It was His plan for me to leave full-time ministry and serve part-time before her illness. It was God's plan for me to serve at Concordia, so that when Diana needed me most, I could be her full time caregiver, since there were several other pastors on staff to carry the ministry load.  And it was God's plan to have me return to active ministry now, after her passing, as a part of my healing and grief recovery.

I have no idea what the future holds.  What is clear to me is this.  God has directed my path every step of the way thus far.  I know that whatever lies ahead He will be with me.  I pray that I have many more opportunities to be honored, humbled and amazed to serve in ministry in the years ahead.

Thank you, LORD, for your grace and your faithfulness.  To You alone be the glory!  Amen.

Cyclist Again

Starting in 2004 I became an avid road cyclist, riding anywhere from 3000 to 4000 or more miles each year.  When my wife, Diana was diagnosed with Stage 4 Lung Cancer in October of 2013, I all but put my bike away completely.  My focus shifted from my own needs and desires to her needs and desires.  She always worried about me on the bike, and after she became sick she realized that she needed me more than ever.  Diana didn't want to hear that I had been injured or killed out on the road (unfortunately, it does happen all too often), and I wanted to devote as much of myself as possible to her.  Consequently, my Trek Madone road bike began to gather more than a few cobwebs sitting unused in the corner of the garage.

I also found myself using way too much comfort food as I wrestled with the demands of being primary caregiver for the woman I loved for a lifetime, and who I knew was slowly dying before my very eyes.  On top of all that, as Diana's appetite decreased, more and more of her food found it's way onto my plate, and I certainly couldn't let it go to waste (my grandmother's "waste not, want not" still rings in my ears to this day). As a result of eating for two (and for comfort too), my waist expanded significantly during the course of Diana's illness.  

It took about two and half months from Diana's death on May 5 before I could think about getting back on the bike, but somehow I knew that she would want me to.  I also knew that this would require a complete lifestyle change and a real commitment on my part.  So I found myself at the bike shop picking out a new fitness bike on which to start back down the road to becoming a serious cyclist once again.  I easily justified the expense after getting on my Madone race bike just one time. I quickly realizied that I had gained so much weight that the forward leaning position actually caused my belly to compress my diaphragm to the point where it was difficult to breathe.  A more upright riding position would be required, at least at the beginning.  And the investment in a new bike would make it harder for me to justify being lazy.

The first time I got on my Dual Sport 8.5 fitness bike I just rode a few casual miles around the neighborhood.   My knees creaked, my legs burned, my groin hurt and my butt ached.  I suddenly realized that it would be a long journey back to cycling form and fitness.  But each ride got just a little bit easier and a little less painful.  

It only took a couple of months before I decided to take my Madone in for a tune up.  This time when I got back on that incredible carbon fiber racer, it felt light, sleek, and fast.  The miles started adding up faster and faster.  Before I knew it I was thinking about a goal I had been dreaming about since the day of Diana's funeral. 

Hill Country Memorial Gardens is the name of the serenely beautiful cemetery where Diana and I decided to buy two burial plots before she died.  It is just 15 miles from our house by way of beautiful Texas Hill Country back roads.  On Tuesday I decided I was going to ride out to visit Diana's grave by way of bicycle for the first time.  It was a gorgeous fall morning and the ride was spectacular, with the possible exception of the monster of a hill about a mile from the cemetery.  

Upon my arrival I dismounted and leaned my bike up against our headstone.  I sat down on the ground, water bottle in hand, and began a one way conversation with my beloved.  Everything was perfect. The sunshine.  The breeze. The bike.  I felt unhurried.  I could talk to Diana about the things that had weighed heavy on my heart the night before.  I could hear her asking me about my ride.  How far was it?  How fast was my pace?  How many feet vertically did I climb?  Did I have any close calls with cars?  All the questions she had asked me after every ride.  I soon realized that my bike ride and the visit with Diana was the most healing thing that I had done since her passing on May 5.  Somehow, life felt better, more worthwhile, and filled with hope, and strangely filled with her blessing too.  My two loves, Diana and cycling came together in a wonderful way that was a powerful blessing to me. 

On the ride home I felt like I had wings, or as I once heard Jens Voigt (a professional cyclist) put it, as if there was "no chain," the pedaling was that easy.  Something else had changed too.  It's always been my custom to pray as I start every ride, asking God to bring me safely home to Diana when my ride was ended.  Lately, I had prayed that if God wanted to take me to be with Diana during the course of my ride, that would be okay.  As I headed out of the cemetery I prayed again for safety, asking God to bring me safely home to my daughter and grandson.  I knew that Diana would like that prayer better.  Our reunion will come, in God's perfect time, but for now I'm convinced that there's a whole lot more riding that He wants me to do.

My goal is to ride a century (100 miles in one day) before this year ends.  The route I have marked out will take me by the cemetery, and I plan to stop and let Diana know that I'm riding seriously once again.  I know she'll be happy, and so will I.  

Anniversary Getaways

Throughout our 43 years of marriage I served in the pastoral ministry and Diana either taught Lutheran School or was a stay at home mom and homemaker.  As a result, we had little money in the budget for elaborate vacations.  Most of the time our only vacation was traveling back to Michigan to visit family, and most often it took the form of a road trip, which even when made from Minneapolis was completed in one day's drive of over 14 hours in order to save a motel bill.  Vacations got a little nicer when we lived in Seattle, but for the most part our only real splurge each year would come in the form of a short getaway for our anniversary.  It was usually two nights, but sometimes we'd go over the top and do three nights. When the kids were school aged or younger they would be entrusted to the care of loving congregation members.  These getaways became some of the highlights of our life together, and they were always remembered fondly by both Diana and I.

Naturally, when our 44th wedding anniversary came around just six weeks after Diana went home to heaven, a getaway "for the two of us" seemed only natural.  I remembered the first time we visited San Antonio before moving here in 2009, and decided that it would be nice to stay on the Riverwalk, as we had back then, and have dinner at the same restaurant that we enjoyed on that trip, the Little Rhine Steakhouse.  So I am writing this blog from my hotel room on the Riverwalk, fully realizing that this getaway will be nothing like the dozens of others we enjoyed throughout our marriage, but still hoping that it will be a positive and helpful part of my grieving process.  

On our getaways before Diana passed we would always enjoy special meals together, share some romantic times and get some well needed rest.  In addition, however we would use our time to look back over the past year and evaluate what was working in our marriage and what needed work.  We would take time to reminisce about the past year, reading some of Diana's journals and looking through photo albums.  We would talk about our hopes and dreams for the future and our plans for the year ahead.  As I think more about them, I realize now how important these annual getaways were to the success of our marriage.  They became mileposts along the path of life that helped us stay on course and keep moving forward.  

Bed and Breakfast Getaway
in Leavenworth, Washington

One of our very first getaways was to a place called Jumer's Castle Lodge in the Illinois/Iowa Quad Cities.  One of the best ever was to Roche Harbor Resort on San Juan Island in Puget Sound.  Our 25th Anniversary getaway was to Lutsen Ski Resort (we could afford the rates in the summer) in Minnesota.  Each holds special joys as I think about how it impacted our marriage and our relationship.  And yes, there may have been one or two disasters along the way because of bad lodging or an argument that cropped up, but I think I've managed to forget about those.

Tonight I've brought Diana's external hard drive loaded with pictures from the past 15 years.  It was too much to try and bring the other 30 years worth of photo albums.  I also brought her latest journals.  She always shared them with me and would often specifically ask me to read something in particular that she had written, so I'm not violating any confidence.  I plan to use the time alone to reminisce, to thank God for all of His blessings on us throughout our marriage, and to particularly thank God for all the ways He blessed me through Diana.  I am already holding back tears as I think about our past getaways, and I know the flood gates will burst sometime during this time alone, as I spend my first "anniversary getaway" on my own.

If you happen to be on the beginning stages of your marriage journey, I urge you to consider making an anniversary getaway a part of your tradition.  I know that Diana and I were truly blessed by it.

Good Grief

"Brother, we do not want you to be ignorant about those who fall asleep, or to grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope."   1 Thessalonians 4:13

It's been three weeks since Diana fell asleep for the last time.  It is a great comfort to know that she is with the Lord, but that doesn't diminish the grief that my heart is struggling with.  I've been told that there is no grief the that of a mother who has lost her child.  Having never experienced such grief, I cannot say if it is the worst grief there is.  What I do know it that the grief of a spouse who has lost their helpmate after a lifelong, God-blessed, Christ-centered marriage is tremendous.  God's Word tells us that in marriage "the two shall become one."  When that huge part of who you have become through marriage is ripped away by death, the pain is overwhelming.  

How could I describe that grief?  Have you ever played in the surf at the ocean or in one of the Great Lakes?  I grew up playing in the surf at Lake Michigan.  More recently I have been able to enjoy the surf in the Gulf of Mexico.  Most of the time when you're in the water it's fine and you're having fun. Once in a while a wave will catch you off guard and you temporarily lose your balance.  But you catch yourself quickly and continue to enjoy the waves.  Then comes a wave that was bigger than you expected and suddenly your feet are knocked out from under you.  You go down in the surf, but manage to keep your head above water.  You float for a moment or two until you can get your feet back on the sandy bottom once again.  However, there are those infrequent but terrifying times when you had your back turned to the surf and a huge wave that you never saw coming rushes over you, sucking you completely under water.  Suddenly you have no idea which way is up.  You can't breathe and you feel yourself being dragged out to sea.  You struggle to orient yourself as your heart pounds.  Finally, after what seems an eternity you reach the surface and gasp for air.  When you finally get yourself back to shore you are completely exhausted.  You have no strength left.  But you're alive, and you know that life will go on.  

That's how I would describe the grief I've felt since Diana died.  Most of the time it comes in little ripples that disturb me just enough to remind me that she is gone.  Sometimes it comes in bigger waves that knock me down but I bounce right back up.  But occasionally an overwhelming wave of grief will crush me, leaving me gasping for breath and exhausted. At those moments I think that I must feel like Peter did when he let the wind and waves overwhelm him while walking on the water. Thankfully Jesus' was there for Peter and He is there for me. Yes, with Jesus' help I do eventually recover from those "killer waves" but they are hard to endure.  I assume that as time goes on they will become more infrequent, if not less powerful.  But for now, they seem to come all too frequently.

Paul didn't tell us not to grieve.  He told us not to grieve "like the rest of men who have no hope."  So I will grieve, but I will also trust God to pick me up and put me back on my feet when I've been overwhelmed by a wave of grief.  His grace is sufficient for my weakness.  And the hope He has given me for a blessed reunion with my sweetheart in heaven is sufficient to strengthen me to carry on.  When your time of grief comes remember to take hold of Jesus' outstretched hand and let him pull you to safety.  

The Best Day of the Year

Easter Sunday is the best day of the year!  It has always been my favorite holiday, far and away better than Christmas (with regard to which I am a bit of a "Scrooge").  And of course, it tops Good Friday, when we revisit the horrifying spectacle of Christ's suffering and death.

Obviously each of these Christian holidays is connected to the others in an inseparable fashion.  On Christmas we celebrate the incarnation, the Word of God becoming flesh in the birth of our Savior Jesus.  If Christ had not entered into our world as a real human being he would not have been able to take our place on the cross.  And if Christ had not been willing to suffer and die for our sins, we could not be forgiven.  But Easter trumps both Christmas and Good Friday.  Why?  Because Easter is the proof positive that our sins have been forgiven. Easter is the proof positive that Jesus did not deserve to die.

You see, Jesus was able to pay our debt of sin for us only because He lived the perfect life that God demands.  Scripture tells us that the wages of sin is death.  We die because we deserve to.  By living our lives in sinful rebellion against the God who gave us life we forfeit that gift of life.  We die, not just physically but eternally, because sin separates us from a holy God.

When Jesus died He took that penalty for us.  He paid the debt we owe.  However, had Jesus remained in the grave, it would be clear that He deserved to die.  He would have been like any other sinful human being.  It is only because Jesus rose from the dead that we know His sacrifice was acceptable.  It is only because He rose from the dead that we know He was without sin.  And it is only because of His resurrection that we can have confidence that we who trust in Him shall also rise from the dead.

Thus, the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead is the most important fact of all of history.  Nothing could be more important. Paul put it this way in 1 Corinthians15: "What I received I passed on to you as of first importance: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures,  that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures."  Yes, Paul includes the crucifixion in these matters of first importance, but without the resurrection the crucifixion means nothing.  If Christ had only died and had not risen from the dead we wouldn't even know he existed.  And we would certainly be without hope.  "If Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins." (1 Corinthians 15:17)

That's why Easter is the best day of the year.  It is the assurance that our sins are forgiven.  It is the assurance that even though we die we will surely rise again, just as Jesus promised.  "Because I live, you also will live." (John 14:19)  So, rejoice and celebrate BIG TIME on Easter.  It's the BEST day of the year!