OK, so I said there was more.
4) I was personally saddened by the loss of Elesha Debenport last week. Elesha was 5 and the daughter of Tony, who I was in the Corps with back at A&M. Yeah, only one semester, but enough. I hadn't been in touch but came across an article about her condition in the local paper. They had a caringbridge site set up to keep folks informed. She had been cleared late last year but the cancer came back and came back aggresively. Tony had prayed to have Elesha at his home before Jesus took her back to her final home and was blessed with several month of time with her. From what was written, Elesha was amazing. The last few days were painful, and frustrating as they waited. But the final end was peaceful and they were together. Tony has been through seminary and had planned on going to work as a missionary in East Asia before this illness. I took the whole family to the funeral. Emily took it the hardest. She just turned 10 and she's old enough to question why but not old enough to make it all fit, or even understand the emotions going on inside her. The kids all wanted to know, was that person in the casket really dead? Was that her real body? Tony had some great comments about his daughter and didn't have to stress where she was, or the hope that Christians have in such situations. I grieve for his loss all the same. And I hope and pray that I will never know the depths of his own grief.
Trying to connect the dots...
The thing that I kept coming back to is from the beginning. I don't spend enough time in prayer, or cycling, or with my kids, or reading the things that I need to be reading, or even getting out thoughts in this blog. OK, I know, join the club. Pass the cheese to go with my whine. But it seems like something is afoot. I really, genuinely miss the times from my young adulthood where it seemed every step I took was something new and special from God. Like I was still being led to something. Where I am now doesn't seem to be leading to something, it's just stagnant. Maybe this is the crux of the crisis of mid-life. But I don't want a new car or a new wife or to drop my job or anything. I just want to be led somewhere. And maybe the job thing might change, but I feel the need to find the void and gaze out at it. Sorry, that's the image I've heard attributed to Kierkegaard. Life is a featureless plain that stretches out in all directions. After traveling through it, you come upon the void. The plain just stops and there is nothing out in the void, except God. You don't see Him or hear Him, you just know in your gut that He's waiting for you. You have to jump off the plain and into the waiting arms of God. Folks call that Kierkegaard's Leap of Faith. I look back and see that played over and over again in my life. Right now things are too safe. Bills are being paid too frequently. We've got a Suburban out front for crying out loud! Maybe there will be more on this later. That's not entirely up to me, though.
Trying to connect the dots...
The thing that I kept coming back to is from the beginning. I don't spend enough time in prayer, or cycling, or with my kids, or reading the things that I need to be reading, or even getting out thoughts in this blog. OK, I know, join the club. Pass the cheese to go with my whine. But it seems like something is afoot. I really, genuinely miss the times from my young adulthood where it seemed every step I took was something new and special from God. Like I was still being led to something. Where I am now doesn't seem to be leading to something, it's just stagnant. Maybe this is the crux of the crisis of mid-life. But I don't want a new car or a new wife or to drop my job or anything. I just want to be led somewhere. And maybe the job thing might change, but I feel the need to find the void and gaze out at it. Sorry, that's the image I've heard attributed to Kierkegaard. Life is a featureless plain that stretches out in all directions. After traveling through it, you come upon the void. The plain just stops and there is nothing out in the void, except God. You don't see Him or hear Him, you just know in your gut that He's waiting for you. You have to jump off the plain and into the waiting arms of God. Folks call that Kierkegaard's Leap of Faith. I look back and see that played over and over again in my life. Right now things are too safe. Bills are being paid too frequently. We've got a Suburban out front for crying out loud! Maybe there will be more on this later. That's not entirely up to me, though.
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