Easter...A Do-Over

Easter, for Christians, is the big one.  It’s about loss, atonement, redemption and salvation, it’s the really big one that defines our faith.  For me, it represents, among all the other things, second chances.

If I could, if dreams were real, I would have my crazy, angry, passionate, driven, brilliant Marty, the one I loved so long ago, warts and all, back.  There is one caveat, I would want to have the experience, the knowledge, the what I now know of the last 11 years.

I guess most of us would like some do-overs based on what we now know. 

Before, before our life was changed by a pin prick sized hole in Marty’s brain vein, I wasn’t a very patient guy, I was an impatient intolerant ass, at times.  Honestly, at times I was selfish, short tempered, self absorbed, too focused on work and maybe a little emotionally distant. 

I was an okay husband, I treated Marty, okay.   I listened, at times, I participated in the home, I worked hard to provide, I wasn’t out running the bars at night and I took my turn bathing the kids. 

I suspect I was an okay father, listening to our children at times, reading to them, taking them to functions, teaching Sunday school, going to ball games and band concerts and all that family stuff.

I’m not sure how engaged I was, I’m not sure I wasn’t constantly distracted by my work and my own angst about life, and I know I was living with too much fear of failure as a husband, a father and an employee.  Fear does weird things to your brain.

As awful as the strokes have been they did give me a do over, they gave me a chance to atone for so many of my past short comings as a husband, and I hope as a father.

It took a cataclysm for me to finally re-order my priorities.  Work went completely away and there has not been one day, not one when I have wished to have my career return.  I miss people; I don’t miss being pulled away from my most important responsibilities, being a partner to Marty and a father to Matt and Erin and their broods.

I still struggle with the whole patience thing and too often I’m not tolerant of change and according to my wife I’m still way too controlling.  To quote Marty, “You tell me what to do, too, too much.”  I’m guilty. 

I am better at waiting; I am better at letting the old lady fiddle with her coupons in the grocery store check-out line, I am better at waiting for Marty to process what she is thinking and translate the thoughts into words.  I think I am anyway.

Mostly, I hope I have learned to focus on what to fear, I hope I have learned to only major on the major issues and not fret about the little stuff, because there is a whole lot of little stuff.  I hope I have learned to give my time and energy where it’s really important and to ultimately fight only those battles that are important.  The little fights eat up your energy and your life and you really need that energy and life for the big stuff.

My do-over, my Easter, is really about showing a woman I fell in love with 40 years ago how much I really love her and how much she is really loved.  My Easter is being the best father I can be to my adult children and their mates.  My Easter do-over is not losing fear, it is finding the appropriate things to fear, facing that fear and acting against it.  My Easter do-over is very simply having this amazing opportunity to use what I have experienced with Marty and our kids and being a better man than I was, being a good man. 

That’s why Easter is the big one for us Christians.  We, the world got the biggest do-over ever.

Our Church

My church, our church, has been and still is a touch stone for Marty and me.  It has been an integral part of our life for a long time and my hope is that it will always be a sanctuary for us.

It is a an ever present part of my memory, seeing my daughter sing, seeing my son lead, seeing them both preach Senior sermons, teaching Sunday School, watching Marty sing, sitting behind the youth of church and occasionally shushing their whispers.  Our church, in spite of our, let’s call it spotty attendance of late, is foundational for Marty and for me.

I remember sitting in church one Sunday, as low in spirit as I could have been, I was sitting beside Marty; the night before we had talked about not being married anymore.  Sitting in that church that day, my head, my heart  was in turmoil, sitting with Marty on my right and my children in front of me with the night before still churning my gut I thought, I can’t ever be with anyone but this woman to my right.  

Being in that church that day helped save our marriage.  Months later Marty and I stood at the front of our church with Jimmie and repeated vows of love and re-commitment, in our church.

Years later I sat by Marty in that church on a rainy Christmas day.  I sat as our pastor leaned down and wrapped his arms around Marty.  I listened and was moved as they took turns delivering the charge to the small gathering, repeating the words, “have faith, hold on to what is good”, one after the other.  I saw the smile of our God that day, smiling as the strong encircled the weak that day, in that church.

This church, the people in this church, this enclave in the city of Waco has been there for us during our best times and has been a shelter and a buttress against ill winds for us in our worst times.  I worry for my church.

You see, we are Presbyterians and there has been upheaval in our denomination over the last several years, in particular regarding sexual orientation.  We are a connectional church and all of us belong to the Presbyterian Church of the USA.  We are governed by a Book of Order developed and changed by our General Assembly, a bi-annual meeting where delegates from all across the United States meet to recommend what belongs and what doesn’t belong in our Book of Order and our Book of Confessions.

In June of 2014 the GA voted to revise the definition of marriage to include same sex marriages where allowed by law.  It has roiled our church and many congregations have voted to leave our denomination.  It hurts to see, it hurts to watch, it feels like once again there are people saying to others, within my own denomination, you are no longer Christian enough for us.

I worry that this controversy, this almost secular battle of liberal versus conservative thought will visit my church.  I worry that there will be people in my own church that will be so hurt, so angry over some of these decisions they will want to leave or worse they will want my church to divorce my denomination, they will want to take my church away.

I understand their concern; I understand the strong feelings that are involved. I don’t understand the need to separate, the need to look another in the eye and say I can no longer worship with you because I don’t agree with you.  We worshiped together yesterday, we disagreed yesterday, why can’t we worship together tomorrow even though we disagree over some issues?

Years ago Marty and I sat in our church and contemplated moving away from each other.  We had significant disagreements, we were at logger heads, we were, at times, emotionally hurting each other.  That Sunday at that church we decided we must work through our pain and hurt and disagreements and stand strong for each other.  That’s what we did.

I know that some in our church feel the same way I did that day in our church, not sure if love and faith can bridge the gap in our relationship.  I recognize the very real concerns many have about some changes in our denomination.  Those concerns are based in real faith, so are mine.

 When those Commissioners at General Assembly met and voted on the issues hurting your heart I believe they were doing what they felt God led them to do.  When those votes were taken it was not a matter of doing the will of the people but seeking discernment to do the will of God.

I accept that there are those who can’t accept, I can’t accept that leaving is the answer, I can’t accept that we must divorce.  If you believe, then fight, then work, then change minds, change hearts, make a difference in a way that says I won’t give up but I too will seek God’s direction and I will make right what I see as wrong.  

My sanctuary, more than any other place I have ever been, has always been a place where differences in race, circumstances and politics did not matter.  My sanctuary has always been a place of refuge, a place that has fit me and my family as a soft glove, a place that is tender, accepting and inclusive. 

 

Don’t take that away, Marty and I are blessed to have this church and all of the people that are a part of it.  Stay and disagree with me, we can do that and still sing together.

Marty's God

Marty and I have a heritage rooted in Christianity. We continue our Christian confession in spite of or more rightly because of our liberal proclivities. Our faith is our foundation; it is our past and our present. Marty and I were both raised in a Christian church, stayed in a Christian church and raised our children in a Christian church, it is part of who we are, part of how we think, hopefully, it drives how we act toward others.

Marty was raised in the Baptist tradition, a bit more conservative than my Presbyterian foundations, but largely the same. The only real difference, as I see it, is the emphasis on God’s grace and church polity. Baptists focus on humanity’s actions; Presbyterians focus more on God’s actions for humanity, a small but telling difference for Marty and me.

My faith in God and what that means has been tested over the years, certainly no more than the past five years when Marty’s strokes changed our lives. The idea that God never gives you more than you can handle has been sorely tested in my eyes. While it may not have been more than I could handle it’s certainly right to the very edge of my emotional and intellectual capabilities. I have been alternately grateful, angry, thrilled, depressed, faithful and faithless through all of this. To say these past years has been a test of my foundation is a complete understatement.

Amazingly, Marty’s faith, her basic belief system, her foundation has never been shaken and never been stronger. When we talk about religion, our faith and belief in a higher power, she has never wavered, she has never expressed anger or disappointment in her God for what has happened. She has only said I believe God carries me and cares for me. I think if anything her faith in this higher power, her belief in God’s action for humanity is stronger than ever.

Personally, I have a hard time finding God sometimes. I get angry and I lose my faith on a regular basis. Not Marty, I don’t understand why she doesn’t feel anger, why she doesn’t whine about the unfairness of her situation, why she doesn’t moan about God taking her most precious gifts from her. She simply doesn’t, she simply, very simply believes, very simply holds faith, very simply knows God holds her in God’s hands.

Marty‘s evolved view of Christianity is simply, “God is with me.” She has managed to avoid the trap of humanizing her God by blaming God for her strokes; she understands her illness is not of God, by God or for God, it is human illness caused simply and completely by the frailty of humans.

She knows intuitively not to ascribe human characteristics to God, she believes God is infinite and she knows we have but finite understandings causing us to cast our fears, our anger, and our own prejudices as God’s. Marty knows we can’t excuse our frailties by making God frail.

Her God is not one of hate or retribution, her God, my God; the God of our Christianity is one of benevolence and grace. Marty doesn’t blame God or hate God for allowing the illness she is just grateful for her continued life and the chance to continue her life. She believes God is with her.

There are days I want to blame God, to rail about the inherent unfairness of Marty’s loss. On too many days I have found more hard questions, more friction in my beliefs and faith. My doubting times are much more frequent and much stronger than ever. I wonder, I doubt, I lack the clarity of my faith. I’m not Marty, I don’t have her strength, I don’t have her faith.

Marty, like Job has accepted her life and her fate and said I will live as I am, I will live with my faith in a God that is with me and loves me. She knows that better today than ever. I am constantly amazed at what I learn from Marty.