Is it worth it?

I have two souvenir t-shirts now. One is almost eighteen years old, and the other is just nine weeks old. One is white and the other is red, but both were cut from my body in the back of an ambulance.

I was working on doing laundry this morning. I am returning to work this week and I am going through my things, putting together my work clothes. Tossed in the corner of the laundry room was the hospital bag that contained my work clothes from the night of my heart attack. I have seen it sitting there several times but it wasn't something that I wanted deal with just yet. So it would seem to be fate that I would open the bag this morning and that red t-shirt would be the first thing that I would see.
I had a rough night last night, my old body just doesn't want to make this easy sometimes. I was lying in bed this morning trying to decide if I was going to go to therapy or not. I have learned the value of cardiac rehabilitation therapy since my surgery; it is one thing to get repaired, it is quite another to be restored.
I have been through physical therapy before. I found it somewhat ironic when I first went to cardiac rehab that I had been in that exact building before. Eighteen years ago it was not a cardiac rehab that was located there, instead it was a physical therapy rehab. The same physical therapy that I had used to recover from my motorcycle accident. It was a weird "I have been here before" feeling when I for the second "first time" walked through those familiar doors.

I did not go to therapy this morning, unintentionally I went back to sleep. I was just too tired, but it really did leave me thinking. We often draw parallels between churches and hospitals. Like a hospital, a church should welcome the hurting and broken. The church should be a place of refuge for the sick to find healing and restoration. Just like there are certain hospitals that specialize and are better equipped to treat and cure certain types of injuries and illnesses; there are different types of churches and some specialize in certain types of ministries, but this makes them no less a church than the other would be considered less of a hospital. In most cases, hospitals that specialize are often more revered. So why is it that we often demean and criticize a church that may have special purpose, just a thought.
But it is the idea of rehab that I have been considering this morning. A hospital is a life saving place. I have been carried inside, more than once, precariously hanging between life and death; through skill and knowledge, the doctors and nurses worked to repair my injuries and heal my body. But once the doctors have repaired the damage and completed their job, the responsibility of my health is now back in my hands. The surgery may have taken a few hours and I may have spent a few days in the hospital recovering, but rehabilitation often takes weeks or months, even years. Rehabilitation therapy usually means a change of lifestyle. It requires a change in physical activity, a change in diet, changing habits, it is often slow and difficult; Rehab requires work.
We will often willingly walk into a hospital in desperation, but to repeatedly walk into rehab is a matter of the will. I have seen may people over the years walk into churches in the same way. They are dying, life is falling apart and without help they are not going to make it. But Jesus is the Great Physician and He does what only He can do. I have seen people saved, healed, completely restored in the church's emergency room that we often call the altar. What happens at the altar is real, as real as going into surgery; just like the two stents that are now in my heart, I may not be able to see them but they are there and they saved my life. At the altar we may not be able to see or even fully understand all that God has done, but you know that He has saved you and you now have a new lease on life.
Unfortunately this is also the place where many people stop.
Surgery can and often does save a life, but it will take the rehab to restore health and increase strength. Through the process of rehab one not only has the opportunity of a better life, but also increases the odds that they will never have to go through that kind of experience again. Have you ever seen someone come into church, desperate for God  to help them? And God does indeed help them, their life changes and all is well for a time. But six months or a year later they are back and this time in worse shape than they were before. Critics will often say that going to that church just made them more miserable or that God had never really changed them and it was just a matter of time before things went back to the way that they were. But it would be just as ridiculous to say that going to the hospital was a mistake and that having surgery really didn't fix the problem. Like with most surgeries, the doctor will give specific instructions for what we must do next so that we will recover and remain healthy. Jesus is very much the same, you will know a genuine experience of God because it will always be accompanied by instruction. If God ever tells you to do something, or not to do something, it is always for your health.
A good hospital will always direct you to a good rehab so that you can continue to heal and ultimately live a long and healthy life. A good church will do the same, it is foolish to receive life changing prayer or help and then run out the door thinking I can always come back if something goes wrong. People will often say; "Church is good but don't get too involved, it's unhealthy to change too much. Even though the life you were living almost killed you, you're okay now, don't get carried away with it." The best churches, like the best hospitals, will always incorporate both; surgery and rehabilitation is like repentance and obedience, one goes hand in hand with the other. Don't run from a church that wants to see you grow healthy and strong through serving, because serving is God's rehab. If we are healed at the altar then it is though service that we experience our therapy. Like I said before, being repaired is not the same as being restored. Being repaired is an act of mercy, being restored is a process of discipline.

I keep the two t-shirts as a reminder.
It is hard to learn a new ability, but it is even harder to have to relearn an ability that was lost to an injury or illness. It can be tedious at times and very frustrating, but it is good to remember what brought that situation about in the first place. In the hope that there is a realization that as hard as the rehabilitation may be, it would be worse to go back and have to go through it again.

Faith not easy to come by...

Have you ever had a past conversation come to mind?

I have had a lot of things on my mind the past few days. If I am going to be honest, I have lost a little sleep over some of it. I keep going back and forth in my head; on one hand I can clearly see where God has protected and provided for me and my family, but in the other hand I see everything that is stacking up and I get scared. I keep trying to move on, I know that I should move on, I just can't see a way yet. And then there is this past conversation that keeps popping up in my head. I can still remember it like it was yesterday, even though it happened at least ten years ago.

Darrell has to be one of the most genuine people that I have ever had the privilege of calling my friend. I have known Darrell for close to thirty years now, and over the years we have talked about a lot things. He has lived through more than I can begin to imagine and I have always valued his wisdom and insight.
This particular day wasn't very different from any other day. I had stopped by Darrell's shop to drop something off and we were just catching up with each other, talking about life. One of the best things about Darrell is how he will always tell you about how faithful God has been to see him through everything that life has thrown at him over the years. We both agreed that life is not always easy, but God has a way of showing up in ways that you don't always see coming. I remember making this comment, and it is this comment that I keep thinking about;
    "You know the feeling of relief; that overwhelming peace, even joy, that you feel once a prayer has been answered? You know; you were sick with worry, the situation seemed impossible, and then God showed up. Everything worked out better than you could have hoped for and all that was left to do was to praise and thank God for being so merciful, that He would hear your need and move on your behalf. It is almost a surreal feeling, you almost wonder why you had ever worried or doubted in the first place.
I want to experience that feeling before God shows up. I want the faith that knows that God is going to take care of the situation, whatever it may be, before there is any sign that He is on top of the situation. I hope that one day I can face any situation and have that feeling of peace before I see any kind of answer. I want to have more faith in God than I have in the answer."

We both thought about that statement for a minute, and then we both agreed that this is not an easy kind of faith to come by.

Over the years I have thought about this conversation from time to time, but the past few days it seems that I can't stop thinking about it.

So now for the million dollar question, the question that has me sitting here tonight. After ten years, do I now posses this kind of faith? The answer, in all honesty, is No.

I was sitting in this same spot Saturday afternoon having this same conversation with myself. Praying, seeking direction, asking God what do I do next? That, after all, seems to be the question that I have been stuck on lately. I want something to do, some plan of action, a way to get life back on a track that makes sense to me. As I was asking these questions, I heard something in my spirit but it wasn't anything that I might have expected to hear.

     I am going to make you a spectacle.

 This is the furthest thing from what I thought that I might hear. I don't know exactly what it means, and honestly, just my by own speculations this statement made me a little nervous. I continued to pray and ponder the meaning of this for the rest of the day, but I did not share this with anyone else.

I did decide to share this with Norma the next morning. Her reaction was pretty much the same as mine. "A spectacle isn't necessarily a good thing", was her reply.

I still don't know what it all means, but I have come to realize that there are many things that are not under my control. I simply choose to trust God and not complain about the things that I do not understand. I wasn't even 100% sure about sharing any of this, but somehow I feel that there might be  someone else out there who can in some way relate to what it is that I have been trying to share.
The words have not come easy today, but not every day is meant to be easy I suppose. If life is difficult, don't give up. If the answers are unclear, sometimes it is best to pause and wait for clarity.
The Lord led me to Isaiah 40, it is in verses 27-31 that I will end this for tonight and I will sleep knowing that my life is more secure in my God's hands than in my own.

27Why do you complain, Jacob?
    Why do you say, Israel,
“My way is hidden from the Lord;
    my cause is disregarded by my God”?
²⁸ 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.
²⁹ He gives strength to the weary
    and increases the power of the weak.
³⁰ Even youths grow tired and weary,
    and young men stumble and fall;
³¹ 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.

Corrected or Connected?

It all started with a conversation that I had with my mom on Tuesday evening.
She had called just to checkup on me, not knowing that I had gotten sick and had almost completely lost my ability to speak. So she was a little alarmed when she heard the weak and barely audible sound of my voice. I heard the 'mom tone' in her voice almost instantly as she had me explain to her all that had happened since Sunday night. But then she asked me a question that I was not expecting, "Have you thought anymore about what I asked you after your heart attack?"
I knew exactly what she was referring to, because I had thought about it several times over the past two months. Just a few days after the heart attack my mom had sent me a text, "Damien; have you ever considered that the enemy of your soul was trying to kill you, but God would not allow it?"
Mom has always been sensitive to spiritual warfare, so when she makes a statement like this it is probably something worth taking the time to consider. I had been considering this question. Because I had been wrestling with a conversation that I had just had about three weeks ago after church with my friend Sandra and her husband Dean.
Norma and I were checking out their new Harley Davidson motorcycles and we started talking about the days when I used to ride a motorcycle. Now whenever the topic of me and motorcycles come up, the story of my accident always ends up being told. And let's face it, getting thrown off a motorcycle  at 100 miles/hr and bouncing down the highway the length of a football field ain't nothing to sneeze at. But in the eighteen years that have past since that day, I have come to realize, that part of the story was not the miracle.
It was three days before our third-year wedding anniversary, and the last thing that I had said to Norma before I left on that trip was, "Pack your stuff while I am gone and get out my house. I am divorcing you when I come back."
Now as Norma was telling Sandra about this she started to laugh; because she just loves to throw in the part that even though I had only ever done it this one time in my life, that weekend I had went to the strip club. She told Sandra that the accident was God's punishment for the way I had treated her and that it was His will for us to stay together. Now, for a lot of years I used to believe the same thing. But I have come to realize that this is a very religious way of thinking. God is my Father, and no good father would throw his son off a motorcycle at 100 miles/hr. as a punishment. There had been several warnings not to go on that trip, Norma had begged me not to go; but what I had not seen was the danger that was waiting for me.
I had already walked away from God's will for my life; but when I walked away from Norma that day, I also walked away from the protection that comes from being in covenant relationship. I headed down the highway in a very vulnerable state and the enemy of my soul took his best shot. It was only by God's intervention that I survived that fall, because it was meant to kill me. As I shared this Sandra's (aka Pastor Moses) hand went up and she said, "I am hearing the Holy Spirit right now, this is the story that you need to tell; this is your testimony!"

As Mom and I were talking about this I heard the Lord say that it was a "Course Correction" in my life. I was a different person eighteen years ago, but that accident changed the course of my life. I didn't have the answer yet but somehow I knew that this heart attack was going to be another changing point in my life. Mom asked what I meant by that, and I told her that I didn't quite understand it all yet. Back then, everything changed. We had a son, our marriage was restored (with a lot of work) I returned to my walk with God. Within a few short years there was almost nothing that resembled my previous life.
But I am in a different place now. I have actually been very encouraged with where life seemed to be heading the past couple years. Norma and I have a great relationship, with each other and with God. I have three wonderful kids that I love dearly. Our home is blessed and we have been blessed to have a church home that is equally as wonderful. We have even begun to see dreams coming back to life that we had given up on years ago. In all, my life is in a good place; so I really wasn't sure where the heart attack was coming from. I told Mom that I was still praying about it and that God would answer me in His time. I just knew that even though the situations were not the same, the results would be similar. Very soon, my life was about to enter a new season, and somehow this was the starting point. We left the conversation at that, I said, "I love you and I will keep you posted".
Later that evening I told Norma about my conversation with mom, she was interested but didn't know anymore than I did about where this might go next. What she did say was, "Pastor Vanessa told me today that you should go to the staff prayer meeting tomorrow morning. Maybe God will give you an answer there tomorrow?" So I went to bed a little perplexed and a little excited, because this has been on my mind for a few weeks now. What I didn't know yet was that I wasn't going to have to wait until morning for an answer.

It was the first night that I had slept well since getting sick, and it was a good sleep. But at 3am I woke up, rested and wide awake. I have woke up at 3am more times than I count over the years knowing that I was being called upon to pray. I don't always know why or what exactly it is that I am to pray about, but I have learned that it is important that I do so none the less (it's an intercessor thing). But this was different; I asked the Lord what did He want me to pray about ?  He told me, no praying, we're just going to talk and I want you to listen. The conversation went something like this:

Do you remember, what was the first thing that I commanded Joshua to do after he crossed the river and led the people into the promised land? You have studied this before and it always seemed unusual to you that I waited until after my children entered the promised land that I would have Joshua circumcise all the men. In essence leaving them hurting and unable to fight on enemy ground, why not do it before they crossed over?

 I was going to get up and get my Bible to start reading Joshua but the Lord told me to wait till morning, we were just talking right now and I could read once I had finished resting. Then He told me that there was something else that I should take some time to look at:

When the river was stopped so that my children could cross on dry ground, the waters backed up and destroyed a city upstream, there is something important that I want you to understand about this. Most people think that Jericho was the first city that was conquered when Israel started to take the land that I had promised to them. But I took the first city before they even crossed over.

We talked for a bit longer, like I would with one of my sons. At this point I was ready to get up and start studying, but I heard God clearly tell me to go back to sleep and get a full nights rest. I could read once I got up and it would all start to make sense as I searched it out.
The first thing that I learned as I started to read the book of Joshua was that the city was named Adam, for some reason I had thought that it was the city of Dan, which had caused me to have already made some assumptions of what I thought that I would find. But the name Adam spoke something much different to me. To bring His children into the promised land, God would first wash away the city of Adam. I decided to do a little more research on the city of Adam and learned something interesting, the city of Adam had a bridge. In military strategy it is always preferred to conquer the city and take possession of the bridge, rather than find another way across or build a bridge of your own. It was also the ancient name of the city's bridge that caught my attention:

• Adam Bridge (Jisr ed Damieh) - named after the city of Adam, a Biblical mound near the bridge.
• Damiya, Damieh - the Arabic name of the bridge.

 Maybe it's a coincidence, but the spelling of Damieh sure reminded me of my name, Damien.

But what did this mean? It wasn't until I started to look into why the Lord had Joshua circumcise the men after they crossed over that I began to understand what the Lord was trying to show me.
Too often we try to approach destiny in the same way that we would plan a career. We plan, we prepare, we network, we build bridges where we think that they would be most beneficial in order to help us reach our goals as we try to figure out how to claim our promised land. But the Glory of Destiny is in the hands of the Living God. It is when God makes a way where there is no way at all that we see His hand at work. I have followed the Lord and I have seen the beginning of some pretty exciting things recently, but at the same time I have been trying to figure out what my next step might be. I have been looking for a way that makes sense.
Upon this realization I heard the Lord speak to my spirit one more time: In the motorcycle accident I allowed you to experience a Course Correction, but through the heart attack you will soon experience a Course Connection. 
I understood that I have been on the right path, but to continue on this path I would have to cut away the flesh. We can't force destiny, we can only be faithful to wait on God's timing. It is not something that we can accomplish in our own strength. Damien would always try to find a bridge, a Damieh, to reach the other side.
But I have also been given another name, It is another story for another time but several years ago in a mighty move of the prophetic, I was told that my new name was Joshua. And it will be in the spirit of Joshua, after this 'Course Connection' that God will lead me into what He has planned next for my life. It will not be by my strength or any plan that I could conceive that God will lead me into what He has planned next. Now I will admit that some of this might be open to interpretation, and you could say that this all sounds great but how can you be sure that this isn't just me telling myself what I want to hear. I might have told myself the same thing, but then I went to the morning prayer meeting.
And what happened next, Oh boy.

It was a good prayer meeting, but nothing to out of the ordinary had happened, yet. As we were closing out the meeting, we were asked to place our hands on three young men who were about to leave town in order to follow the Lord's call on their lives and pray for them. Pastor Mike would be one of the men going to New York City this week to work on the upcoming launch of his new church plant, V1 Church. After we had prayed for them, I felt like it was important for me to share with him what the Lord had showed me that morning.
I cautiously approached Pastor Mike and said, "I hope that this doesn't sound crazy, but I think that I am supposed to share this with you." I told Him about what the Lord had shared with me. I told him that Jericho was not the first city that God had given to His children in victory, because He gone gone before them. Before they had even realized that the city needed to be destroyed, God had removed the bridge of Adam. I really didn't know what he would think of all of this, or if it would make any sense to him at all; but as I watched him fighting back the tears, I knew that the Lord had orchestrated this moment. Pastor Mike told me this, "Listen to how crazy this is. When my wife Julie went to make my hotel reservations, she could only find one hotel to get me into and it is in the town of Jericho. I told the Lord that I knew there must be some significance to that name. Because what are the odds of only finding a vacancy in one hotel in a town named Jericho, but I didn't know what it meant until you shared this with me. and now the Lord has given me confirmation and understanding!" All I can say is that we were both a little bit blown away at what God had done for us that morning. And just to round the story out, to show how

God had tied all of this together; Pastor Mike is Sandra's (aka Pastor Moses) son.

I don't know exactly what God has in store for my life next, but I believe that it will happen in a way that only He will be able to receive the glory. And I also believe that I will not be the only one, there is a new season that has already begun and we will soon begin to see the first fruits of this season. Many people think that you have to give up too much to follow the path that God sets in front of you. But I like how my pastor, Pastor Dave, says it, "God is not trying to get something FROM you, He is trying to get something TO you."
This is a life of excitement, that goes beyond explanation; I hope that everyone who reads this will find this life for themselves. If you have not met Jesus, let me introduce you to Him. The Devil will tell you that Jesus will only CORRECT you, that you will miss out on all the fun. But it is Jesus that will CONNECT you to your extraordinary destiny, in Jesus, Life is Here!

Persistence

We have all experienced that moment when we are grabbed by the hand and pulled along for the ride. Whether it's a friend or a little kid, we have all been led by the enthusiasm of another. It's not a bad thing, sometimes we even have a little fun ourselves. But have you ever stopped to think that you can do the same thing with God?
Now if we are being honest, most of the time we think that it is God who is dragging us along trying to coax us into doing something that we aren't quite sure about. But the truth is that we can move the hand of God.
I was done last night, I had finished writing and I had no inspiration for what might be next. When I woke up this morning, same thing, no ideas whatsoever. But we have been talking a lot lately at church about putting a demand on the anointing; or another way of saying it would be, expecting God to show up when you decide to use your gifts. So I was persistent, I kept asking for inspiration until I got something that I could write. What I got came to me as a question, "Do you want a bulldozer or a bicycle, how do you want to use this gift? Now this question made perfect sense to me, but it might help if I explain why.

Once upon a time, I used to be a pretty  good cyclist. Forty to fifty mile bicycle rides were a walk in the park, and every once in a while I would attempt a one-hundred mile ride (but those usually kicked my butt). I knew every back road within a seventy-five mile radius. One thing about touring bicycles is that they have very narrow tires. Hit a decent size pothole and it was pretty likely that you would have a flat tire. Most riders carry spare inner-tubes, after a few seasons you can fix a flat and be back on the road in less than ten minutes. Needless to say I had my favorite roads and routes, and then the bike trails came along which were awesome. Cycling has probably been my favorite hobby over the years, and even though I haven't spent to much time on a bicycle recently I do look forward to riding again. Now the bulldozer on the other hand has a little bit of a different meaning to me.
I have been to many church services over the years and I have experienced some pretty powerful prayer meetings. But there are a special few that stay with you, where something is deposited into your spirit and becomes a part of you. It has been at least five years since that night but I have never forgotten about it and many times I have questioned the meaning of it.
It was a Friday night and we were at a little church on the corner of 48th and Broadway in Gary, IN. I can still remember standing in front of Pastor Shelby as he prayed for me. Now this may not be the type of praying that some of you are used to, it was actually just more of a conversation. Pastor Shelby had put his hand on my chest and then paused for a moment, he told me to open my eyes and look at him. What he told me was this, "The Lord had given me a word for one of the other pastors but now He is telling me that this is for you too. You are a trailblazer."
It may not sound like much to you, but I have never been able to forget that moment. I have tried to figure out what that statement meant several times over the years, with no real clear interpretation. The one thing that I have learned is that a prophetic word always speaks to your potential, but you have to be willing to pursue it.
So fast forward to this past Sunday, it was after service and I was talking with one of our pastors. This pastor made the comment to me, "I just try to nudge people in the right direction." I chuckled at the statement and replied, "You don't nudge, you're a bulldozer!"
As I told Norma about this conversation later in the day, she had this horrified look on her face and said, "You can't talk to a pastor like that!" I laughed and explained that I wasn't being rude or disrespectful, it was meant to be a compliment. A bulldozer is strong and powerful; a bulldozer is not used to push people around, it is used to move obstacles and clear a path. It will make a way where there was no way previously. A bulldozer doesn't need to find a road, it makes a road, it is a trailblazer.

So back to my question, "Do you want a bulldozer or a bicycle?"
One is small, light, quick and meant for recreation. The other is big, heavy, slow and meant for work.
Do I want to write occasionally, when it feels good, like a hobby? Or am I willing to work at it, to write with purpose and make  a new path for myself that others may follow one day as well.

If there is something deep inside you, something that you know the Lord spoke to you but just hasn't seemed to happen yet; don't give up on it. Seek and you will find, Knock and it will be opened, Ask and you will receive. What you heard was spoken to your potential, the person that you are in the process of becoming. The old you would not have been able to carry the weight of the things that you carry today, it is that promise that keeps use moving forward. Because if the path is unclear and full of obstacles it may be that you are blazing a new trail. You may not only be making a way for yourself, you may be making a way for generations to follow. So even if it has been years, don't give up. The answers do come; when patience and potential collide with perseverance, destinies are revealed.

Questions

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times," There truly is something timeless about this opening statement from A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens. At some level, I think that we can all relate to feeling like this at some point in our life. I keep thinking about this phrase as I try to pull my thoughts together today.
In many ways, it made a lot of sense to start this blog right now. I have time available to me after the heart attack that I have never had before. But at the same time it has been very difficult, there are a lot of things that are different now. Often my mind is pulled in a dozen different directions, as grateful as I am for the ways that God has provided for our needs and for how well my recovery is going, there are still many things that have been quite difficult during this time.
One of the stranger things, to me, that I have been trying to get used to is how I constantly feel cold. I used to never get cold, I think that it is the combination of the blood thinners and the blood pressure medication; but if I am in the air conditioning, I am usually freezing.
So, the other night as I was laying in bed, my body was exhausted but I could not quiet my mind, and I was freezing. I thought that maybe a soak in a hot tub would not only warm me up, but also help me to relax so that I could sleep. Now I don't like to like to try and get in a tub full of hot water, it's to hard to adjust to the temperature change. When I fill a bath I will sit in the empty tub and let the water fill up around me, usually increasing the temperature of the water so that it stays nice and hot. But as my body started to relax my mind just didn't want to cooperate.
My favorite question has always been, Why? When I was a child this question almost seemed to be hard-wired into my DNA. As I would try to understand the world around me, I would constantly ask my mom, Why? She was patient with me; most often it was not the defiant why of a strong willed child, but the inquisitive why of a child who was trying to learn. Mom laughingly told me once that she would continue to answer my 'whys?' until she just couldn't handle it any longer, and then she would just look at me and calmly say "Damien, shut up." To which I would simply reply "OK" and go on my merry way.
I still ask a lot of questions, especially in light of the events of these past few weeks. I thought about the interrogatives that I had learned about all those years ago in English class: Who, What, Where, When, Why and How. While sitting in the tub, I did a little 'Googling' and found that in journalism these are called the Five W's and the One H. And then something occurred to me.
When life is difficult, and when things don't seem to make much sense at all it is very easy to focus my thinking on the Five W's.
Why did this happen?
When will this be over?
What do I do now?
Who can understand?
Where will this leave me?
Sometimes the Five W's can put your head in a pretty depressing place, they can leave you feeling like a victim. But then I got to thinking about the odd man out, the One H. With all the W's running through my mind, it is the question 'How' that can put my feet back on the ground. I can contemplate What it is that I need do next and even come up with some pretty good ideas, but it is when I start to contemplate How I can accomplish those things that I begin to gain some traction and move forward.
Who, What, Where, When and Why can sometimes seem intangible. But How, well How is something that I can often grab a hold of. Now don't get me wrong, How is not always an easy thing either. But if you can figure out the How, then you can come up with a plan. And a plan is an opportunity for action, an opportunity for change.
As I sat in the tub waiting for the water to rise I had the thought, "This is my life right now, freezing and sitting in an empty tub. But I know that everything is about to change because the hot water will soon fill the tub." Even when we know what is about to happen next, we will usually have to wait.
Worry is the misuse of the imagination. It is often in the moments of waiting that we will start to worry about what might happen in the unknown, instead of imagining the great things that we might yet accomplish.
I had thought through most of this Friday night in the tub, but by Saturday evening I had talked myself out of writing any of this down. It was a Facebook post by one of our co-pastors that led me to think that maybe I should share this after all.

Pastor Vanessa Gargano wrote this on Saturday:
You can be telling the truth and still be wrong. Sometimes the WHY, the HOW, the WHEN, and the TO WHO is more important than the what. Powerful lesson that EVERY human learns sometime in life.
Thank GOD for his grace, and mercy over our lives when we get this wrong even if we're right. Best advice ever. Learn from others mistakes. This tip was free. It will save your life. You're welcome.

Now I know that the message may not be the same but it was the use of the interrogatives that caught my attention. It seemed to consequential to leave to chance, maybe what had been on my mind Friday night was worth sharing. I still wrestled with writing this, until this morning. As I was pulling into the gym for my morning workout, in front of the Dunkin Donuts, out of nowhere the Spirit put a verse on my heart.

I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.  2 Timothy 4:7

In that moment I began to tear up. 

I have come to realize that had I died seven weeks ago on that operating table, 43 years on this earth would not have been enough, I was not finished with my race. And even if I get another 43 years before I leave this life and pass on to the next, it will go too quickly. Today I would fight through and write at least one more time, in the faith that it may help just one more finish their race. Because I am not finished until I am certain that I will hear the words, "Well done, good and faithful servant."