What a Father Remembers ... or Why I Blog

Ian,

I remember one of your friends posted on the anniversary of your Going Home - that we should not make a saint out of you; you were not perfect - you had definite flaws. But he ended the post by point out that you always were working to be a better person, who wanted to make others lives better.

When I first read that post, I was frustrated. How could he say you were not a “saint?” Then I remembered two things - the first was the manner we all idolize and selectively remember the past - especially those who have gone Home before us; and second, yeah, he was correct. You were a good kid - but were also a pain and far from perfect!

Why is this important? You were not the only one that “was” or “is” a pain. You are a chip off this old block - the guy who is writing this blog. I remember growing up with the “Ten Commandment god” - you know, the one that was all about 100% compliance and 100% honesty. That god was disappointed with me ALWAYS. He could NEVER approve me. All my life before Christ (shoot, my life now!) is characterized by extreme inconsistency. Don’t get me wrong, I have good intentions and outcomes - but I lack the sustained self-discipline to ever fulfill one commandment consistently, let alone 10! And when I fail, I am full of excuses, rationalizations and lies to cover up my culpability. Yes, I am a mess. My excuses, apologies or regrets cannot remove a single sin or the consequences it produces. In my original mindset, this “god” is tasked to heap on the guilt, wait to execute judgment and certainly never really like me. 

But things have changed. I met the Father who corrected my view of God, well, of Himself. When I look at what our Father in Heaven remembers around His children - I see an encouraging pattern. In the pages of the Jewish and Christian Scriptures, there is an honest portrayal of messed up people. People you and I would know and feel comfortable with.

They were:

aspirational, but inconsistent;

hopeful, but faithless;

strong off the blocks, only to finish poorly sometimes.

God did not whitewash the truth or let anything slip His attention. He paints an accurate picture of each of us. You and I stand together - we are known fully and cannot change the truth by our intentions, smile or excuses. But what does He record in His eternal book? What does He remember about our lives?

In Hebrews 11, the writer summarizes the lives of the faithful from the Jewish Scriptures. This is interesting when you consider what the Holy Spirit actually brings to the writer’s mind to record. It seems to answer the question, “what does God the Father remember?”

For example, with Abram, the Father does not enumerate his lies - endangering his wife’s life; his faithlessness to God’s promise - bearing an illegitimate child; his repeat sins - showing he continued to be stumble over the same temptations and challenges. Abram was a mixed bag - the father of the faithful and a real disappointment. This makes Abram a real person - someone like us. But, here is what is interesting - in light of Abram’s uneven record, this is what God our Father remembers:

“By faith, Abraham, when called to go to a place that he would later receive as his inheritance - obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going. … By faith, Abraham made his home in the promised land like a stranger in a foreign country… Abraham was looking forward to the city and foundations, whose architect and builder is God… From one man, and he as good as dead, came descendants as numerous a the starts in the sky… By faith Abraham, when God tested him, offered Isaac as a sacrifice. He embraced the promises…he reasoned that God could even raise the dead…” Heb. 11:8-12.

What the Father remembers are Abraham’s acts of faith, not his sins. He remembers when He got things right, not when he failed. He remembered his legacy, not his setbacks.  This is not an “exception” - the whole chapter is full of the “selective memory of God” as evidenced in what is recorded for Noah, Sarah, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, David, Moses, Rahab, the people of Israel, David, Samson, Samuel, and others. 

So, is God just ignoring reality, our sins, and is not serious about His righteousness? Nope, they are all captured and recorded as “history” in other chapters and verses. But something happens between the “recording” and the “remembering.” Although God hates sin, in His love He has put away sin from His people. He is not the “Ten Commandment god” demanding compliance and honesty always if we are to be accepted. He knows that we could never delivery this - it is just impossible! So Jesus did - He lived in total compliance, complete honesty then bore away our sins in His own body on the tree. In the atonement, God actually separates our sins from us as far as the East is from the West. This love that motivated Him to action to “covers a multitude of sins.” 1 Peter 4:8; see Prov. 10:12 too.

This is what makes grace - well - amazing!! This is what distinguishes the “chesed” love of God from our weak and temperamental love. The Father’s covenant, steadfast, loving-kindness delivers what one can call grace. It is a love that bears all things, believes all things, and endures all things. Even when faith and hope find their end, the Father’s love never fails. This is the love that He has shed freely on us by His Spirit; the love that covers our sin; the love seeks us out and reconciles us to Himself; this love adopts us into His family.

So, what do I as your father remember? I notice that I tend to remember positive, building and encouraging things. Am I looking at life through rose-colored glasses? No, I remember the bad times, the arguments, the frustrations, the disobedience, the discipline, the lies, loss of cars, the broken promises and other disappointments. But, I find my mind not dwelling on these things. My mind migrates and settles on positive memories. 

Is it just you? No, I find my mind staying on the positive memories for Danny and Caylea at well! Not the addiction, the losses, the conflicts, but the joys, togetherness, the future. Same goes for Mom and our imperfect relationship. I remember joy, togetherness, love, and forgiveness. Most of all I remember us - all five at home. Love indeed covers a multitude of sins.

I remember your smile, the giggly laugh, bear hugs and your smell, scratchy beard, kisses good morning and goodbye, the “I love you” in texts, on the phone or as we left each other. I remember you waking me up, standing over me as I slept, saying “Dad, I’m home!” (How I long to hear that again!) I replay the jabbering conversations, silly topics, the passions for the present and future, the arguing over values and actions as well as the celebrating of each other.

I do remember sad things. April 19th, 2013 - I re-live the news, reactions, the trauma. I remember the sadness especially as I travel and have more time on my hands. I relive April 18th - and my desire to change the past, intervene in some way to rescue you from the terrible outcome of the next day. I remember the days after April 19th and the sadness and loss. However, I remember the love of our family and friends, support we received, the amazing stories about your life, influence and impact. So, memories are a mix of positive and negative.

When not recalling 2013, what else do I remember?

I remember  

all five

at home

at camping

at church

at concerts

at sports

at play

with your Y’s

with Legos

with stufties                          

with games

with basketball, frisbee, football, wrestling, baseball

with video games, DDR, computers and boards

                     in the yard

                        around the fire pit

                        during sleepovers

                                                with shoes

                                                with jackets

                                                with hair

                                                with dogs

                                                with cats

                                                full of joy

                                                full of pride

                                                full of together

                                                full of hope

                                                full of future

The list just goes on and one. Preserving these memories is why do I blog. Mom asked me to capture memories so we can relive these together. So, many memories are captured in my blogs. So get ready to see more memories move from the ethereal to blogs - avocado seeds, caves, theme parks, activities with MJ&PG, at home, at TAMU, etc.

Bottom line, as I remember, it is the joy and hope that stands out and a desire to hang on to a memory and never let it go. But memories are limited - you in a bottle l bounded by time and the limitations of my mind. You are much more than I, or anyone, remember. We live in hope that memories are not “done” but put on hold until we reunite when we meet you again at Home. We have "embraced the promises…reasoning that God could even raise the dead…"

Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see...And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him. Hebrews 11:1, 6

“God grant us faith, renew our faith - for we are "of little faith." When the Son of Man returns may He finds faith in us. Please grant us confidence in the evidence of your promises in Your Word and in your revelation. We live in “tents” in the land of promise “looking forward to the city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God.” The land is a desert and it is hard to see beyond the pain of today. Grant us assurance that although we do not see Ian, we will be reunited one day there. We are indeed strangers and foreigners in this land of time. We long for a “better country” - a “heavenly” one. Remember Your word, Your promises, Your Son. See us through Your loving memory. All our hope is in you, Father!”

Who Said You Hated CrossFit? - Ian and the "Murph"

 Ian,

Working out was something that we always shared. In California, we practiced baseball - pitching in the backyard, swinging and hitting from our porch to the small hills where the trees once were. This changed to basketball as your interests grew. Our cul-de-sac was perfect for a basketball court.

 A side story: I still remember Caylea’s cat Louie getting locked in her room when you were by yourself at home. Mom and I were out - I think in Sacramento - that day. (Louie had learned the fine art of jumping up on the handle, and using his feet to leverage his arms to open the handle. It was not a “one and done” thing, but it took many times.) Well, you called us saying you were hearing noises and someone was definitely in the house - you could hear them rattling the doors. We asked if Indy the dog was upset - and he was not. We suggested that you and Indy play basketball outside as Mom and I returned. We would check things out when we got home. We returned to you doing layups and shooting hoops with Indy all excited just to be with you. In the house, Louie was now out of Caylea’s room and walking freely around. Clearly the cat was the culprit. But it did show how safe it was to be at our home and road in CA.

When we moved to Texas, we continued to play basketball and added Ultimate to our repertoire. But as you entered High School and played football, lifting weights became a key activity. Lifting became a real touchstone for us and joy that we shared. It was not all giggles - lifting really messed up your basketball shot - note to self: never build for strength during basketball season - more on that in other blogs. You lifted at Anderson High School - impressing your football coaches and fellow players and putting the soccer players in awe. I think you were the strongest student on record per pound who was on the record board or not.

But I remember most is us lifting together at 24 hour gym for four years. We would rarely use the machines - it was free weights for you. It was impressive seeing you put up two 120 lbs dumb bells on the bench. Indeed, everyone watched and whispered as this “kid” maxed out the weights there! We did bar-bell bench, incline, decline and other exercises. But it was the leg presses and squats that you loved the most. Wow, you could “get low” as you took weight that I could not imagine on the bar. The bar would bend as you went down and exploded back up to standing position! So many memories as we would spend an hour or two a week together lifting, talking, laughing and just being together. Those were good days!

Lifting since you went “Home” has been tough. Returning to 24 hour gym is difficult and lonely. I have tried but it did not work well. I lifted some at home, but struggled with consistency. The best I did was take a kettlebell out on walks with the dogs and do workouts with it. That was odd, but it was a focused time and it worked! But it would only tone and not really build endurance or strength.

Danny is changing me though. He is going on 27 months sober. You would be so proud of him - his spirit, his work ethic, his professionalism, his commitment to change, his skills at family games and his socialization with good friends. A key part of this is healthy eating and exercise. He joined CrossFit City Limits over two years ago and has been a maniac ever since. He is so strong, so ripped, so fast - I think that I actually hate him now! He got me involved in crossfit this year - now after three months of consistency - I KNOW that I hate him! Doing work outs with people 20+ years younger than me is tough - but I am seeing results…in strength, in endurance, in physique. I am thankful for his encouragement and so excited to share this experience with my son!

The rumor has always been that since your focus became powerlifting and bulking up, that you would have hated crossfit. It was not “true” or “pure.” But as I finished my first “Murph” I realized something - you actually introduced me to crossfit principals and we did a “mini-Murph” before you went Home!

It was the Summer of 2011 and it was a Saturday. You were working at Starbucks and had the afternoon off. It was obviously hot - it is Texas - and you had this inspiration for a workout. Here is what you outlined:

1. Run 0.75 mile
2. Do 10 or 15 pull ups (can’t remember the number)
3. Do 25 to 50 push ups (can’t remember the number) 
4. Repeat 3 times

Well, as I faced my first “Murph” I saw some striking similarities:

1. Run 1 mile
2. Do 100 pull ups
3. Do 200 push ups
4. Do 300 air squats
5. Run 1 mile

Now, in our experience at home - we ran around our block which is basically 0.75 miles. You did the full number of strict pull ups and push ups. I did a “number” but it was definitely less than you. We repeated this - and after the second time - I was just wasted. You finished the third round and were exhausted too!!

So, as I was doing my 80% Murph on Memorial Day in 2018, I remembered this story - doing our “mini-Murph” together. I went over it in my mind as I ran the 1,200 meters - twice - and struggled through 80 pull ups, 180 push ups and 240 air squats. I shared this story with Danny after he finished his “full Murph” with a 20 lbs jacket on (yes, you and he are both maniacs!). His first comment was why you and I did not do air squats during our “mini-Murph.” I told him - I did not know. Danny said you would probably think “air squats are stupid.”

There is not more here to say - but I am thankful how working out can be something we still share. While I run, I think of how you taught me to run on my balls of my feet, to keep my feet short on the ground, to lean forward - all things they emphasize at crossfit. I think of you as I squat - Dad, go lower, keep looking up, don’t bow your back. You are on my mind as a deadlift, strict press, swing a kettle bell and struggle to do pull ups - yes still. You inspire me; you join with me. I am not alone as I sweat and want to quit. You are with me to encourage me with your memory, your smile, your laugh, your work ethic, your strength.

Life can be very long, grueling and had to keep going. Not having you with me can feel like a weight around my heels. But I remember the promise:

Why do you complain…my cause is disregarded by my God”?

Do you not know?
    Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God,
    the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary,
    and his understanding no one can fathom.
He gives strength to the weary
    and increases the power of the weak.
Even youths grow tired and weary,
    and young men stumble and fall;
but those who hope in the Lord
    will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
    they will run and not grow weary,
They will walk and not be faint. (Is. 40-27-31).

I must be honest that I am weary, tired and weak. I often stumble and fall. I need to “hope in the Lord” and allow him to renew my strength - on the inside and the outside. In life and in crossfit, soaring, running and walking - consistently and to the glory of God is so important. So, please soar, run and walk with me as I try to be in shape, be a good steward of my body and my health, and honor your memory by doing things you would want me to do - even if it is crossfit.

Love you Ian.

Dad

Matzah, Memories and Motivation...

Ian,

The inspiration for this blog started with a meeting in the Blackstone Launchpad. There I spent time advising an aspiring entrepreneur from The University of Texas who graduated from Anderson High School. As we talked, it became clear he knew who you were. He was on the JV soccer team when you were on the varsity soccer team. You were a senior, first-year goalie. I still remember the announcement from the PA system - words you wrote yourself on Senior Day to answer the question, “What is the most surprising thing people never knew about you?” Your answer was - “That I play soccer!” Yet there you were starting your first game and holding Bowie, the best team in the district, to just three goals. You gave your mom a yellow rose that night - you gave us all a lifetime of memories!

Anyway, back to the Launchpad meeting. This ex-Anderson student remembered your strength, smile and energy. He said he did not know you - but your presence was not forgotten. This whole conversation arose when he and his friend were describing going to the “J” to work out. I told them that I knew the "J" and there you would go with Evan, Adi and your other Jewish friends in the evenings and on weekends. It got me thinking about the blessings we have enjoyed as a family with so many Jewish friends and deep connections over the years. Much to be thankful for - to be sure. 

Mom and I grew up in Texas - it does not get less Jewish than that…yes, we had Jewish friends, but we were largely unaware of the rich cultural heritage we as Christians owed to our Jewish brothers and sisters. When we moved to Maryland, we saw the rich culture of the Jewish society among the friends I worked with at the National Institutes of Health or in our neighborhood. The holidays, the food, the family - these were really new experiences and good ones at that!

At Derwood Bible Church in Maryland, where you were dedicated to God and grew up in the nursery, we received an education as well. Jews for Jesus used the storage room on Derwood's property to hold its supplies to educate Christians on our Jewish heritage. They also reached out to the large Jewish population in the region with the Gospel. It was at Derwood that we learned that the “Last Supper” was really a Seder - which had its origins with the Jews all the way back to Moses! We began to understand Jesus as a Jewish carpenter, a Jewish Rabbi, the Jewish Messiah - not just a white guy as Southern culture often portrayed Him.

It was in Maryland that Mom and I began to see the concept of remembering Jesus and His command being so central to this Seder or “Last Supper” meal. We were commanded by Jesus to remember His passion - His death - through the meal. The Christian church loves to remember Christmas and Easter - as well it should - but it often did not focus on the good of “Good Friday.” That was the actual “event” Jesus called us to remember and we would often “pass it over” for the Sunday Easter egg hunts! So, starting in Maryland and extending through our time in California and Texas, we often hosted a Good Friday worship service with our “growth groups,” “small groups,” or just friends. We also celebrated Seder officially with Jacqueline and her family in CA - but mostly - we did our own Christian adaptation on the Friday night.

You, Danny and Caylea were actively involved. You always loved buying the Matzah (Matzo) crackers. The crackers - we often shopped at Albertsons or Randells together to get them. No one really like these unleavened, salty snacks - but you! You always loved salty things. Our family has a distinctive sweet tooth - but you would trade dessert for chips any day. You loved salsa, chips - even as a toddler. But I remember you and the Matzah. After our Good Friday service, you were released to “clean up” the remains and would eat nearly an entire box! I know we had Matzah dough soup at the NY Deli near the house - underwhelming and not as good as the crackers as I remember it!

The Good Friday event was usually simple. We would play music, read Scripture and discuss the meaning of Jesus’ sacrifice among the group. You kids always gave your thoughts and were so passionate about the meaningfulness of that special night. We then would share the Matzah crackers and then grape juice or wine. It was a touchstone of worship in our family. I wish we still did these services, but we stopped as our church network withered and our struggle to connect grew with your passing.

As I look at five years since you have gone Home, I remember our last Easter celebration together - at the Austin Stone, at the Erwin Center, then at Taco More. No Good Friday that year - too spread out as a family. But at the Stone, sang during our last Easter together - “Love Shines,” “God Undefeatable,” “Hallelujah What a Savior,” and other songs with 12,000 other worshipers. I remember our last worship service together - that Sunday before the 19th - at a church in College Station with Nico drumming. You sat with Mom and I and sang, listened and had a deep commentary about what the preacher said “right” and what he “missed” ready when we got into the car. I do not remember the details, but I do recall that I felt you were right on the mark. Your spiritual insight and passion had not waned over the years. You still felt the imperative of our Savior’s call. I remember His call as well - in it alone is our eternal hope.

You went Home the afternoon of April 19th - almost 5 years ago to the day. There is not a moment, a day, that I do not miss you. I wonder where you are and why you were taken away. I am different than I was then and I see the promises in the Bible differently. I felt that “God owed me” protection and blessing for my family and that much of the meaning of His promises of protection and blessing were for this life. Alas, I was wrong. As I look back at the Bible with fresh eyes, it is clear that this world is not the place for fulfillment of so many “promises” especially in the Jewish Scripture. Life is full of sadness and disappointment. Our hope, the fulfillment of these precious promises, is not here but in the “Kingdom come.”

This last Sunday, after my meeting at the Launchpad with the former Anderson student, I thought anew of the wine and the bread as we took communion at the Stone. I recalled that the first report of Jesus’s transformation of the Seder and the connection with the Kingdom comes in 1 Corth. 11 from Paul:

• 23 For I received from the Lord what I also delivered to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took bread, 24 and when he had given thanks, he broke it, and said, “This is my body, which is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” 25 In the same way also he took the cup, after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.” 26 For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord's death until he comes.

At that “last supper,"  Jesus transformed the elements of the Seder - the Matzah with its stripes and breaking illustrated His suffering and physical death. The cup of wine took on the significance of the Lamb that was slain for all men’s salvation.

The last words of Paul’s description have become more significant now - with us being separated. Yes, we celebrate the Seder, communion, "Last Supper" and “as often as we drink it” we remember Jesus. But we do not just look backward at His death, we also look forward. “For as often you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until He comes.” It reminds us that death was not the end for Jesus, nor is it the end for you, or me. The Lord will return and bring His Kingdom anew. This is our hope. This is our prayer. It is in the “Kingdom come” that we will meet again, see all promises fulfilled and once again share the Lord’s Table - but this time with the Savior as He drinks again of the fruit of the vine in His Father’s Kingdom.

So, on April 19th’s, I will celebrate the bread and the cup - proclaiming the Lord’s death, His resurrection, His return and our reuniting - all at the same time. I will celebrate this in faith. It is my hope as your Father and fellow pilgrim.

I love you my son. I miss you more than you could imagine.

Dad

The Times They Are A-Changin' - Our Life in Graffiti

Ian,

We went through a Dylan phase when you were in Jr. High at Brentwood. During these days before Caylea drove, I would take you two to school since the trek up and down Braker Ln. took me by my UT office. Mom's office at UT the ACC was out of the way. The three of us would share music, study for tests and generally have conversation all the way to school each morning. If I could freeze time, one spot in my life would be in that car with the two of you engaged in a passionate debate about who knows what.

In my quest to introduce both of you to the world's best music - as I did with Danny - I bought a compilation of Dylan and shared it with you. I expected that the creeky voice, acoustic guitar and lack of traditional pop hooks may not "reach" you. But I was wrong. You loved the songs, especially "The Hurricane". The stories and compelling rhythms got to you, but the passion hooked you. With all the musical universe at our disposal, for weeks on end we listened to Dylan.

I had never been a Dylan fan per say before these rides - but Bob got to me too. Indeed the Bob's - Marley and Dylan - were our favs then. Dylan sang about heavy issues, social justice, broken relationships, truth and especially time. Three songs stuck out "The Times They Are A-Changin' ", "Forever Young" and "Turn, Turn, Turn".

To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time to every purpose, under heaven:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance ...
Eccl. 3:1-11 and Dylan's song lyrics

When your kids are in Jr High and High school, you see times change quickly, things turn from one interest or crisis to another, and you desperately want them to stay forever young. As I said. singing songs, debating music and sharing life in the car - I would give the world to repeat just one trip. 

But life is defined by change. Nothing stays the same. This change is the only constant. During High School, you introduced us to the Hope Outdoor Gallery or Castle Hill as it is affectionately called after the castle building at the summit. This unfinished building site became a place for top and novice graffiti artists to leave their mark in our fair city. But no matter how good or bad the art, it would not last more than two weeks. An amazing piece would be ruined by idiots spraying their name poorly over it, or dumping paint on the wall in drunken fun. In the place of the mess, a new new image would be left by an artist. It is a world of temporary masterpieces- an apt metaphor for our lives. Our fondest memories last but a moment, perfect days sink to night and the years overcome us all. Everything turns, turns, turns.

(Note the changes to the "window structure" in the park in the pictures distributed throughout the post.)

Breca Tracy took senior pictures of you among the graffiti art. It was the first time I saw the Gallery. I was hooked. I kept returning to capture pictures. I recorded lectures there. I showed the family pictures till they were sick of it. The regular transformation of the hill reminded me of Dylan with all his musical phases, his chameleon-like appearance changes and how life never stayed the same. My idiocy or the nature of life would spray paint streams on our lives ruining our masterpieces. But the Gallery held hope - new art could come again and cover the ugly.

Sadly, the Gallery is moving and the place that has been such a touchstone for you and I is going away this Spring - all in the name of progress. Once again, the Gallery shows the nature of change as now it will be destroyed and replaced.

Change. I have thought so much about this reality since you went home. How I long for that change to not occur! How I wish the change I now live in would promptly end!

So many scenes that were beautiful, just to stop them and dwell there longer - sleeping with you as a baby, you wearing the jacket, playing with Lego people, friends over, throwing you into the pool for the first time, basketball, frisbee, riding in the car with your music on, visiting you at school, doing our own graffiti in your room,  watching you best and fall asleep while we watched a family movie, hanging with you on the TAMU campus - these and so many more were masterpieces. Alas short lived and covered by time.

Our JAZZ graffiti wall in your room was painted over as shiny silver as you and Caylea switched rooms in High School and she came home to live from UT. Every time I see that wall I think of the joy under the silver. The wall was meant to be sports symbols, but we could not draw a circle - then you were inspired to infuse your other passion - music - to the composition. The JAZZ wall was born. I covered it well with j silver, multiple coats till it was hidden. Yet It is still there, covered by paint. I see it in my mind on every visit.

Relationships change. You and I still talk. Me more than you for once! I still hear you in my mind. I feel you are still close but just outside my grasp. Danny is so different now 27 months sober, in amazing shape, with strong relationships and we really click and share again. Good change. Caylea is my rock. We may have our moments but my girl and I stay close thankfully. Through all her growing up, added pets, working, living elsewhere we are still there together. Mom and I keep going through change - not always the good kind. MJ&PG are still with us - I mean walking with us as friends and family. But change is coming. Your friends are getting married - Terry this Summer - getting jobs, moving on. Good change for them. Hard change for me.

How do I deal with the change. When my masterpiece moments are covered by life's change - often marring in a frustrating or heartbreaking way? I am reminded that this is nothing new. The ancient Israelites sang:

In the beginning you laid the foundations of the earth, and the heavens are the work of your hands.
They will perish, but you remain;
they will all wear out like a garment.
Like clothing you will change them
and they will be discarded.
But you remain the same,
and your years will never end.
The children of your servants will live in your presence; their descendants will be established before you.” Psalms 102:25-28

Even the mountains change, the ocean changes. I am not the only one bound in change. Indeed change leaves me feeling like an old shirt, worn out and ready for discarding. I must lean on the eternal God - who promises to never change - amidst the ravages of time. The eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms. Deut. 33:27. The old song says it well, "Leaning, leaning, I'm leaning on the everlasting arms."

I must preach to myself that God's constancy amid life's change is cause for hope.

For you have been born again, not of perishable seed, but of imperishable, through the living and enduring word of God. For, "All people are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field; the grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of the Lord endures forever.” And this is the word that was preached to you. 1 Peter 1:23-25

I either believe His word as true and lasting, allow His promises to steady my ship buffeted by the waves, and know that the change of this life will be overcome by the eternal change He promises. Indeed, it is this Jesus-brought change I most hope for - for I will see Him; I will see you again!

Listen, I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed — in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. For the perishable must clothe itself with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality. When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: “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. 1 Cor. 15:51-57

A long quote but did you catch that we will all be changed when He comes again? What was ravaged by change, what seems to be perishing, will be made imperishable by His grace. We will be imperishable as God says He is. The dead and Christ will appear bodily alive again in His presence. Your beautiful self I will see. Life changed in an instant - during your accident, but it will change again, even more quickly and definitively for the better one day.

I know what you would tell me now - "Dad, in that moment we will all be looking a Jesus not each other." You are correct. But I long to have another masterpiece moment with you. One that will never be covered by time, change or paint. I long for death to be swallowed in victory and usher in a new age together again.

So my hope is not in you, but I look forward to you joining me again and our broken family will be whole again. In the meantime, I must take Paul's advice and:

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. 1 Cor. 15:58

 I am flying back from India. I have invested my time, sweat and energy for a week with locals trying to build companies. I have talked to people about our hope in Jesus. I hope that I made a difference. I feel that this is the Lord's work. This work too would change. UT is always redefining priorities - it is only a matter of time when change will occur here as well.

I am thankful for quiet times to collect thoughts, talk with you in depth, and prepare to head back to the real world.

As the graffiti on Jo's Cafe says so well, I love you so much E,

Dad