I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world. ~ John 16: 33 This morning I was visiting with a woman who's husband is living within the last forty eight hours of his life. The illness that he encountered has been a long journey over the past three years. His mind has remained present, while his body seems to have forgotten how to work. Two weeks ago he spoke his last words, telling his wife that he "loved her," and that he was "sorry." She looked at him and asked, "Sorry?"
He began to express something about his "illness," and how she has "sacrificed her time," but his disease robbed him of his words, and she shared that she just looked at him and smiled, and told him, "There is nothing to be sorry about. I love you." The tears then began to appear as she spoke, and she looked at me and said, "Today I understand heartbreak." It is not easy watching someone we love struggle. Especially when the person is still present, but yet, no longer themselves. While our minds and our bodies will age, and eventually relinquish the roles that they have played in our lives since that first heartbeat began to bring us life, our spirit remains strong. She shared of her husband's "great faith," and that she knows that although he can no longer talk, hold her hand, or even swallow, his spirit is "alive and well." "The heartbreak is knowing that it is all about to end," she shared, "but also a new beginning is about to emerge without him." So often we fail to realize that when we encounter loss, or heartbreak, there is available to us healing, and new beginnings. Even though she knows that her life with her husband is about to end, there is a new beginning about to occur. "The heartbreak is the threshold." She went on to share that, "Heartbreak is just a symptom of the final surrendering of ourselves." I had never considered heartbreak to be a symptom of anything but pain, but she was sharing wisdom that comes from living a life of faith, encountering illness and death, and embarking on a spiritual journey that is about returning to God. We cannot return to God with only a small portion of who we are. We are to surrender our complete selves. God's love allows for us to surrender, while also experiencing loss. Heartbreak allows for God to speak to us in a new way, reminding us that God will "always be with us, even unto the ends of the earth." Stay in God's grip! G. Todd Williams (c) 2019
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"The poor you will always have with you, but you will not always have me." ~ Matthew 26:11 This morning I passed a familiar street corner in downtown Houston. For nearly six years I served a church just blocks away from where I took this photo. Years ago the Metro bus system for the city of Houston, at the request of the homeowners in this particular neighborhood, asked that all the "covered bus stops" be removed so that the homeless would not have a place to sit.
It was hard to watch people stand in all kinds of weather waiting on public transportation. Just recently the covered bus stops have once again appeared, and along with that, a place for the homeless to rest out of the elements. I don't know how to address how I feel about these images. Living in today's world as a Christian can be challenging to say the least. In the back of my mind I am reminded that the "poor will be with us always," while also the words, "woe unto you who saw and did nothing," enter my thoughts as I look upon these images. There was a time when I took this to heart, and resulted in actions. About the second time that I showed up to a meeting without shoes, because I gave my shoes to a homeless person knowing that I had another pair at home, and my daughter giving me a pair of shoes one year for Christmas and being told, "These are your shoes, and I don't want you to give them away," I realized I was taking this to a level that wasn't seen as a healthy response. At the time I was fine with doing this, but it was not the image that others wanted to see. While Jesus became poor and lived among us, we don't not want to be reminded of this. When I consider the things of this world, and of church, I realize the poor exists in both places. The poor can be very close. The poor can also be ourselves, feeling unloved, rejected, abused, or ignored. Poverty can be seen and experienced in many ways. In our own hearts, sitting on the bus stop at the busy street corner, and in ways too many to even begin to address. Poverty exists as we admit our brokenness in a world where we need to forgive one another, heal our wounds, acknowledge out doubts, and surround the table where Jesus meets us broken and poor as well. In many ways, when I encounter images like these, I embrace Jesus in a way that allows me to see that Jesus is present. It doesn't always bring comfort to my own spirit, or for those that I see. I suppose it is a struggle that will always remain. Stay in God's grip! G. Todd Williams (c) 2019 "Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ."
~ Galatians 6:2 Years ago a family from our community was involved in a serious automobile accident. Through a series of events, the car they were riding in crossed the center line and hit a coal truck head on. It was devastating. To make matters worse, one of the passengers was the family babysitter. A popular girl, who was a cheerleader, honor student, and absolutely beautiful in every way. Her family learned of her death through a news report on the radio. It was a shock. There were no words to express what everyone was going through. I was like most of us and learned of the accident and deaths on the radio as well. There was just something about the monotone of the news caster, "An Owen County family and their babysitter were...." I don't know if you have ever encountered such news or a loss like this before? Throughout our lives there are simply moments when consoling one another is simply impossible. I have witnessed the responses to both good and bad news over the years. Good news is always easy. It's when we must find the words to try to explain why something happened, or to express our grief, that sometimes silence is the only response. Scripture does exactly this on more than one occasion. We are left with our own conclusions. When the Disciples finally regroup after witnessing Christ's death, there is silence. While on the cross, Christ relinquishes his mother to another, and shares, "This is your son. This is your mother." And then silence. The woman at the well is told to "go and sin no more." And silence. Adam and Eve eat of the forbidden fruit and are cast from the perfect garden. And then there is silence. Time tells the response. However, in that moment when there is overwhelming grief or circumstances, the silence that we embrace involves the overwhelming embrace by God. I wish I could say that I knew the appropriate response or words to the times when words are stolen by the circumstance. But I don't. What I can hope is that in these moments, you find that the embrace of Christ is felt. Stay in God's grip! G. Todd Williams (c) 2019 "Then he took a cup, and after giving thanks he gave it to them, and all of them drank from it." ~ Mark 14:23 Today I was reminded that the "Will of God will never lead us to where God's grace will not sustain us."
Today at lunch I was invited to share of my experience the day of the Santa Fe High School shooting. As I prepared to speak at today's luncheon, I realized that I continue to process conversations, the images that I saw, and just what the over all experience brought to my life. There are simply those experiences when sown into our lives yield harvests that we cannot explain. Even as I shared, I discovered the anger that I still felt. The great sorrow that seemed to overwhelm our community, and the pain that many people still cannot escape nine months later. The real understanding that this happened "here," and in not someone else's back yard like Parkland, Sandy Hook, Columbine... and on and on and on, just seems to capture me in a way that continues to paralyze my thinking, and causes my faith to strain to understand how God's creation can be so destructive. Sometimes it is simply hard to understand how God who loves us so unconditionally, can be present in our times of great joy and of great pain. Of being present in the dying moments, and present as a disturbed young man loads a gun. The appearance of Jesus reminds us that God's grace can withstand the final breath, and leads us into eternity. That God loves us unconditionally from eternity to eternity, and that entering into relationship with pain and suffering, somehow evolves and shapes our faith in a way that when we succumb to the end of life, we are resurrected. Today as I shared of our wounded community, I realized that in my own woundedness I can still speak of a loving God who continues to hold us. Even for the silent young man sitting in a jail cell just miles from where I was speaking who did these terrible things sits with God as well. We are still the created living with the Creator. Even when we are wounded. God is aware of our pain. I was reminded today as I shared that we are still vessels of the living Christ, and as vessels, sometimes we must be willing to be held. Especially when we find that we have been broken. It is in the moments where we feel or appear to be empty that God reminds us to "hold firm," and to sit and allow God's goodness and mercy to fill this vessel once again. I'm grateful for the opportunity to share, even when feeling broken... Stay in God's grip! G. Todd Williams (c) 2019 Gentle is the one who does "not break the crushed reed, or snuff the faltering wick" ~ Matthew 12:20 When I was an early teen, I remember a conversation I had with my grandmother who had just been diagnosed with cancer. I always hoped she would survive, but she was a realist as she spoke to me. As she shared that she would not live to see me grow, "into a man," she told me that she hoped that I would remain a "gentle person."
At the time I did not know how to take what she was telling me. As a young man I was taught that being gentle meant that you were also weak. It became a real struggle at times, and creating the paradigm shift between being seen as "weak," to being perceived as "gentle," became an effort I had to be intentional about. Like having the "faith of a child," I had to find a way to allow for gentleness in my life as well. Now as a man who has lived more than half of my life, I realize that this gentleness is easier to be lived. Once in a while we meet a gentle person. Gentleness is a virtue hard to find in a society that admires people with thick skins and tough stands. We are encouraged to get things done and to get them done fast, even when people get hurt in the process. Success, accomplishment, and productivity count. But the cost is high. Gentle is the one who is attentive to the strengths and weaknesses of the other and enjoys being together more than accomplishing something. A gentle person treads lightly, listens carefully, looks tenderly, and touches with reverence. A gentle person knows that true growth requires nurture, not force. In our tough and often unbending world our gentleness can be a vivid reminder of the presence of God among us. Stay in God's grip! G. Todd Williams (c) 2019 "In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to the one who was able to save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission." ~ Hebrews 5:7 "I've already lost her, but her body just doesn't know it yet," a man who has been married for over fifty years shared with me about his wife who no longer speaks or knows anyone because of her illness.
For this man, he has already begun grieving the loss of his wife, even though she is still "physically," present. During my visit he shared how the two of them would have long discussions, and, "enjoyed so many things together." "This just is a type of loneliness I never expected." We all know something about loneliness, but this type of loneliness is almost too hard for this man to experience. More and more I realize that our society has created ways to avoid pain. Not only physical pain, but our emotional and mental pain as well. Someone recently told me, "We not only bury our dead as if they were alive, but we bury our pains as if they were not really there. " The man caring for what is left of his wife shared, "I have become so aware that I am really afraid of being alone." It caused me to remember a time about ten years ago when my daughter left to go to college, and I found myself living alone for the first time in over twenty years. It was a time of great change, revelations about my own self, and then learning how to accept life in a state of a "new normal." As my conversation came to a close with this man, I was reminded that when Jesus no longer sensed God's presence, he cried out, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" The man then shared with me, "I haven't gotten to this point yet, but I am getting closer each day." The loneliness of the cross then became the loneliness of the tomb, which led to the resurrection. While the man is experiencing a loneliness that is difficult, his journey is bringing him closer to God. It was towards the end of our conversation that we were both reminded that at the end of the journey, Jesus was able to share, "Father, into your hands I commit my spirit." In our loneliness we are brought closer to God, and our ability to surrender and trust that God will always be present. Stay in God's grip! G. Todd Williams (c) 2019 Jesus answered, "You do not know now what I am doing, but later you will understand." ~ John 13: 7 How is it that God is revealed to you?
Years ago when I was just beginning the ordination process, someone on my ordination committee asked me to share how God is revealed to me? At the time I was in the middle of a process theology class at Louisville Presbyterian Theological Seminary, so I began sharing what several theologians had written in my attempt to answer the question. She then looked at me and said, "Okay, so how is God revealed to you?" She wasn't going to allow my new-found knowledge to explain my faith, or who God is. This was to be my experience. I immediately thought of the birth of my children, and before that, my grandfather telling me how he knew there was a God after having meningitis as a youth and sharing that he felt God's hand touch him. I remembered how I was fascinated by the creek that ran in front of our home, and how the water would find its way down the holler, even when winter's touch had all but stopped the flow by turning it to ice. There were my uncles, along with my dad, who would come together and sing hymns that told the stories of faithful men and women, and what God had done. There have been both tears of joy and of sorrow that have been inspired by intimate encounters in life, both made known because I felt the presence of God. God is revealed in those that I love and who have loved me. Through God's grace and forgiveness, I have been able to move beyond moments where I felt that I would never recover. Through friends, some amazing teachers who nurtured me, pastors, my children and my spouse... they all have revealed who God is to me. But even as I continued to share how God is revealed, I realized that I was only being given a glimpse of who God truly is. God is greater than any example, any love shared, goodness that has been experienced, or the beauty I my eyes have seen. God is revealed to each of us only in snapshots. I suddenly realized that God is revealed to each of us in the very common moments, and those that have changed our lives forever. The people in our lives are part of that expression. The older I get, the more I realize God will not be revealed entirely until we have encountered the last day of our life. Only then will God be completely revealed and completely known. Stay in God's grip! G. Todd Williams (c) 2019 But if I say, "I will not mention him or speak any more in his name," his word is in my heart like a fire, a fire shut up in my bones. I am weary of holding it in; indeed, I cannot. ~ Jeremiah 20: 9 "Is this really my life now?"
I looked at the wife of a man who is no longer responding. "If it is, can I ask for a new script?" These were not her words. They were some of the final words spoken by her husband, who is now my patient. He is now silent, so these words shared with me by his wife have become part of the frame that allows me to picture what this person has encountered, and how he sees his life. "He has always been a person of great faith and strength," his wife shares. "Don't think that he is unhappy or someone who is not thankful. He has known and shared joy. The last week has just been very hard. I just hope that he will recover enough that those are his last words that I remember." Years ago I learned that last words can indeed be lasting words. It was just a struggle for her to think that these might be his, "last words." I think that the hardest thing that I encounter are those persons who seem to have, "disappeared," before their body takes its last breath, or encounters the final beat of its heart. It is staring into the eyes of a person who seems to be looking elsewhere, and tries to understand what is happening. To be able to say, "It will be okay," and to know that somewhere the person, "understands." It simply is heartbreaking sometimes, and is compounded by the knowledge that there is simply, "nothing," that anyone can do to change the situation. A coworker of mine years ago shared his journey with us when his wife was diagnosed with early onset alzheimers. As his wife seemed to disappear, he would share after visiting her, "Today I didn't see Ann's spirit." Our ability to be present for one another in these situations can look very different from one person to the next. Living with the "hope," that the person will have one more moment of clarity, offering one last, "I love you," are the only words that those who care and love them wish to hear. I am reminded that any time that we make the decision to love someone, we are also allowing ourselves to encounter suffering. The wife of the man I sat with this morning said, "He has brought me so much joy, but this part is the greatest source of pain that I have ever encountered." Recently I was at the death of a man who had been married to his wife for nearly seventy years. As the funeral home removed his body from the home, his wife turned away and went back into the kitchen to finish washing some dishes. She said to me, "We never told each other good bye, and we never watched each other leave the house. It was just our way. Today is not going to be the first time I watch him leave." The pain of leaving can cause us pain. Whether it is the mind, or the person that seems to disappear, or the pain when someone we love has died. I am reminded that if we want to avoid the suffering of leaving, then we will never know the joy of loving. Love is greater than fear, life is greater than death, and hope is greater than despair. Trusting in the journey is worth taking the first steps to getting to know someone. I wish that I could say that there was some easy solution to the pain that we experience when there is loss. Any of us can quietly listen as stories are shared, and lives are lived. Perhaps John is right in sharing, "There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love. We love because God first loved us." (1 John 4:18-19) Stay in God's grip! G. Todd Williams (c) 2019 "Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen."
~ Ephesians 3: 20-21 John Denver wrote the song Matthew years ago. The chorus of the song shares, "Yes, and joy was just a thing that he was raised on, love was just a way to live and die. Gold was just a windy Kansas wheat field, blue was just the Kansas summer sky." The song describes how joy was expressed in a person's life. Although times weren't always good, the character, Matthew, just seemed to live his life in joy. No matter what was going on. I think sometimes we forget that joy is an essential part of life. Paul, even in his times of being in prison, would sing. God's presence does allow us to experience joy, even in our difficult times. I can't explain it, but even in times that may prove to be challenging, the joy of the Lord is our strength (to quote another verse). I'm grateful for friends and family, who, when I find that I'm having difficulty, help me to recognize the true joy that exists in times of sorrow. Stay in God's grip! G. Todd Williams (c) 2019 “Don’t let your heart be troubled. Believe in God. Believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many homes. If it weren’t so, I would have told you. I am going to prepare a place for you. If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and will receive you to myself; that where I am, you may be there also. Where I go, you know, and you know the way.” ~ John 14:1-4 One of the things that I realize as I start each day, is that my calendar seems to be filled with reminders of people who have died. Recently while I was spending time with a friend of mine I shared, "I live with a calendar full of the names of people who have died."
At the end of each quarter, I put together a video filled with the faces and names of those that our team has cared for until they died. Each quarter there are a few that really "stand out," as someone I wish that I really would have had the chance to know before some disease or decline had occurred. This morning I woke up thinking about one patient in particular who had a nine and fourteen year old living in the home. This man was really pretty amazing. As someone who worked closely with cancer patients, he knew what the process of his disease would look like. "It's terrible knowing," he would sometimes say, especially when he would recognize the advancement of the disease, and how his time was becoming short. So often when I would meet with him we would talk about his faith, the "letting go" of things he sensed were transgressions, and worked to take care of things that he wanted to do for his wife and children before he died. "The master list before death," is what he called it. As some create a "Bucket List" of things that they hope to do with their life before they die, his list was about the things he needed to do for his family. He changed all the toilets in the house, because he knew that in the next five years that would be something that would have to be done. A new sprinkler system placed, and a new back door installed because the existing one was "beginning to rust." Each day there seemed to be something being done that would help to ensure that the house and a number of things were done so that his wife, "wouldn't have to worry." Amazon deliveries seemed to arrive daily as well. Birthday and graduation gifts, cards and letters written about all kinds of subject matters and a few videos were completed when he felt the subject would involve a "face to face visit with dad." He worked tirelessly to ensure that he would "still be there for them." One day he wanted to talk about the things that he was going to miss out on. The subject of his daughter's wedding came up, and he began to cry. "I won't be there to give her away, or to dance that first dance with her." I totally understood. I have a daughter as well, and our conversation took me back to a midnight feeding when she was only months old, and of me holding her, rocking her in my arms, and thinking about the day that I might spin her around on the dance floor on her wedding. I just remember thinking, "You can still do this." He and his wife talked, and a plan was made. The next weekend, before he reached a point where he could no longer stand, they would go to a wedding venue and video him dancing with his daughter that could be played at her wedding. I remember seeing him following the weekend, too weak to stand, "We did it. I danced with her and we got it all on tape." The "Master list of things to do," had a huge "check." Everything this man did came from a good place for his family. His faithful heart. We cannot live with hope and joy without also living in a state of being prepared. For those of us who knew this man, we were watching a father prepare his family. For us, Jesus provides, in a way, a faithful heart like this father. Jesus tells the Disciples that he, "goes to prepare a place for us." When I think of what this man did for his family, I feel like that I have seen a glimpse of what Jesus is doing for us. I have to believe that somewhere Jesus is working on a "Master list of things to prepare," for us! We are reminded that among the things that we possess, faith, hope and love, love will remain. For each of us, God's list for us always begins and ends with love, just as this father's did for his family. We are all the living illustration of what God's love looks like when the Divine and dust become one. Love is the divine, indestructible core of our being. The love this father had for his family will continue to remain, while continuing to bear fruit from one generation to the next, just as the love that God has for us will continue through eternity. Stay in God's grip! G. Todd Williams (c) 2019 |
AuthorRev. G. Todd Williams is the author of the book, "Remember Me When..." and is a former hospice chaplain and pastor. Archives
February 2024
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