Living To Die (and Vice Versa)

This is going to be short and sweet. There are two questions I must consistently ask myself: Am I living for Jesus? Am I willing to die for Jesus?

In truth, it is one question. I am unwilling to die for Jesus if I am unwilling to live for Him and I will never live for Jesus if I will not die for Him.

God came to live as a man so that He might die for me. Jesus' death on the cross for my sins was the capstone of His life.

Literally, I live in order to die and I must die in order to live.

"The saying is trustworthy, for: If we have died with him, we will also live with him." —2 Timothy 2:11

1,170 Miles From Here

WARNING: This post is an emotional release for me. It is probably not going to be short.

I wish we were 1,170 miles from here.
Nothing is wrong at home. Cathy and I are doing fine and the garden is producing all sorts of vegetables, including more beans than we can handle. But, I wish we were 1,170 miles from here.
We were just down in Eugene to see my folks last week. They are 89 and 85 years old, still live in their own place, still drive, are still involved in their church, and devour all the books Cathy takes to them. We can notice that they are slowing down, needing more rest and sleep, and are not able to work as hard as they would like. Considering their age, they are doing great. But, I wish we were 1,170 miles from here.
There is no disaster at work. The church is alive and well. People are busy serving God and others. The ladies have a retreat this weekend, which means attendance in Sunday School and Worship will be down a little this Sunday. We also have a men's breakfast this Saturday morning, followed by four hour work "day". But, I wish we were 1,170 miles from here.
Today marks exactly two months until the day Cathy and I fly to Orlando to begin a long-anticipated and awaited vacation with our dear friends, the Herrons, beginning at Disney World and then followed by a 7-night cruise in the Caribbean for which all of our kids, including the Herrons' grandkids, will be joining us. It is going to be a most wonderful time and probably the first time in over a decade that both families have been together with everyone present. But, I wish we were 1,170 miles from here.

1,170 miles from here is where Shane and Alison, our son-in-law and daughter live. I wish we were there right now. Last night, their beloved dog and one of our "granddogs", Dexter, died. A number of days ago, he consumed half of a roasted chicken…bones and all. It was a high price to pay for doing what came natural to a dog that was full grown but really still a puppy. As with Cathy and I when we were first married, their dogs are their kids and this loss is enormous. When Alison talks to me about it—the feelings she expresses, the phrases and words she uses, the grief that is so overwhelming—it brings back what we went through when our first dog, Sampson, met his untimely death on Thanksgiving morning in 1975.

We have had nearly thirty-nine years filled with great joys, including our three children, our daughter-in-law, son-in-law, and four more dogs (of which one even lived long enough to die "naturally" in her old age). We have also had many other great griefs including the loss of my sister Cheryl to ALS and the loss of my father-in-law to cancer. I think the loss of Sampson so long ago helped teach me that God will carry me through times of grief, including the more significant losses of Cheryl and Cathy's dad. We know more grief is coming. Cathy's mom and my parents are not the only ones getting older. I don't want to think about those future losses right now but I know God will carry us through.

Shane lost a sister in a tragic accident a number of years ago. Alison has had her tragedies, too (and has the scars to prove it). But Dexter was one of their two dogs—a life they took care of together. This is a joint loss for them. They are grieving together and deeply. I know their other dog, Cody, will be receiving a lot of extra hugs and loving. They will continue to cry and grieve together and we want to hold them, cry with them, and pray with them instead of doing it from far away.

I wish we were 1,170 miles from here…in Ontario, CA with my daughter and son-in-law (and the other granddog).

Dexter is in the red oval below in our Christmas picture from last year.

Our Rooms Are Not Ready… Yet

“Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father's house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also." —Jesus as recorded in John 14:1-3 (ESV)

It was December 4, 2004 and we had suddenly become as giddy as little children rather than four adults hovering around the half-century mark. Today, watching and listening to a video of the event, it is a wonder that we were not all buckled in to children's safety seats in the back while another, calmer, and more mature adult did the driving. "Can you just slow down when you get on a hill? Gosh!" "Ours is the one on the left!" "Ours is the pretty one!" "We have Mickey stacks!"

We had just had our first glimpse in the distance of the Disney Cruise Line ship, Magic, and we would soon be arriving for check-in and boarding as Danny & Cathy Herron and Cathy & I wrapped up the celebration of our 30th wedding anniversaries with a "once in a lifetime" seven night Western Caribbean cruise. The paperwork was filled out, the passports and cameras were in hand, and we were as excited as could be. Once aboard, we ate some lunch and toured the ship while waiting for our cabins to be ready.

Half-way through the cruise we knew we had to replace "once in a lifetime" with "at least once every five years." So, on December 5, 2009, the Magic was boarded by a calmer, more sophisticated foursome (Yeah, right. Like that's ever going to happen). Having enjoyed our cabins on our first cruise so much, we reserved the same ones and went right to them because we were informed upon check-in that they were all ready for us and we would not have to wait.

        Danny & Cathy Herron             Cathy & Jim Gantenbein

Believe it or not (maybe "like it or not"), that is just the prequel for this post.

On Mom's side of the family (the Poppino clan), it has been a rough couple of months. Her baby brother passed away around the end of April. This past Sunday, June 3, I received a message that another brother passed away. The next evening my sister called to say that Mom's last brother passed away. Add these to my oldest sister's passing a couple of years ago and you can see why it has been rough.

Although we are all grieving at this time, my sister, Cheryl, and Mom's siblings are/were all Christians and are undoubtedly in no mood to return to this side of heaven. Together with my grandparents and all the other saints, they are experiencing worship, praise, love, life, fulfillment, and joy with such perfection we can not even imagine it. But we can look forward to it.

Jesus said He was going to prepare/provide/make ready a place/room for us and that He would come again and receive us to Himself so that we could be with Him. Why are they there with Jesus and we are still here? I guess their rooms were ready and our rooms are not. Plus, their work was done and our work is not finished. So, I had best close this and get back to it!

P.S. As of this writing, there are 903 days until we leave for our 40th Anniversary Celebration Trip and our kids are all invited but I have no idea when my departure for heaven will be.

I wish she could hit me again.

The picture is our daughter, Alison, and my oldest sister, Cheryl Hamilton, when the Hamiltons arrived at our house last April.

When I was growing up, Cheryl, used to enforce her will by pounding me on top of the head. The jolt sent electric shocks right down to my heels. Then, I finally reached puberty and became strong enough to impress both of my sisters that their days of physical domination had ended. Yes, growing up third in a family of five kids was special.

Last April, Cheryl and Steve came to visit us on the day we had an "Open House" so everyone could see our new home. Cheryl's ALS was steadily robbing her of more and more physical abilities, including speech. But brothers never let sisters off the hook, so, when they pulled up in their van, I went out to greet them and asked, "How are you doing?" Cheryl smiled and nodded, indicating that she was doing well. I said, "What?" She repeated her nod, smiling more broadly. I said, "What? I can't hear you!"

That was the last time she ever hit me. On Tuesday night, March 3, at around 11:20, I was awakened by my cell phone ringing. It was Nancy, my other sister. The ALS had finally won.

Cheryl is with Jesus...completely.

For Cheryl, it is a time of joy and celebration.

Yet, even though I know her smile and beautiful voice are filling heaven at this very moment...

I wish she were here to hit me again. And I wish I could take away the emptiness that her husband and daughters are experiencing and the hurt that my parents and siblings are feeling.

Dang.