The Corner

I hate that corner of the room. 

The steps and decisions that led to that statement are varied, but they are real and deeply felt.  It’s odd that different senses are involved too.  So I hate that certain area because of the sights, sounds and smells associated with it.  And the thoughts.  And that action.  I still remember the first time I entered that corner knowing about this disdain that was stirring in me.  I didn’t want to go in that corner!  But I knew I had to.

Dad started hospice care at home on a Monday in early April.  Within a few days, we had more literature about end-of-life realities than I thought possible.  Or helpful.  So much information was actually too much information.  Probably didn’t help that I really didn’t want to learn, let alone use, this material.  Especially the content about those four medications.  Now I like a nice and tidy spreadsheet.  And an easy grid could be created to assist in decision making as to when and how to administer those drugs.  Or not to do so.  Hopefully not.

When we reviewed those instructions, it was noted that these four pharmaceutical gems had a range of potency and severity.  In fact, we were told to store them in a safe place.  Not a dry place or a cool place, but a safe one.  I guess there’s a market for such elixirs.  And with a parade of people coming and going providing services and other visitors, well, you can’t be too careful.  So I made the decision to ‘hide’ the box of medications in that corner.  Behind the big television and in an unlabeled container.  And when I put it there, I did so muttering a prayer about never entering that corner for a good long while, if ever.

Weeks went by.  Could even count the time in months.  That room was the center of much activity.  Every activity actually.  Eat.  Sleep. Visit. Chat. Watch. Review.  Consider.  Discuss. Decide. Bathe.  And all else that you can imagine.  But that certain area was never entered or approached.  Though things were changing, and not for the better in most cases, the call from the corner never came.  Adjustments in care were made for sure.  Stop doing this and change the way we did that.  But no triggers that would send us off to the in-home pharmacy.

It was just after lunch on June 22.  Dammit, it was a Sunday.  June 22.  I kinda’ hate that day too.  Something was eerily different.  I sat on the couch facing the hospital bed that filled the living room.  I saw, heard and even caught a whiff of things that told me that a certain action may be needed.  As I observed this deterioration, I knew that…NO!  Not that corner!  Not those instructions! Not this drastic step!  If we went down that path, I knew the clock would begin on the EOL timing.  Once you start on those meds…

There have been a few times in my life when I felt really tired.  Like my legs couldn’t move tired.  Heavy legs.  Not sure I can even walk tired.  A super intense soccer practice.  A super long day of yardwork.  A super high blood sugar.  But that first trip to the corner behind the TV was easily the hardest six or seven steps I’ve ever taken.  NO, not that corner!  I had to steady myself multiple times just to make my way there.  Sick to my stomach.  Is there ANY other way?  Is this REALLY what we need to do? I hate that corner of the room.

I know that Dad was helped by the level 1 (my term) med that we started at 1:38 PM.  And the level 2 med that followed later that evening.  That spreadsheet was accurate.  When ABC happens and DEF characteristics show themselves, apply solution 123.  I get it. I just didn’t like that my daily log started looking like ‘4:15-tomato soup, 8:30-ice cream, 9:15-lorazepam’ and ’11:00-haloperidol, 1:45-soup and pop, 8:45-ice cream, 9:15-lorazepam’.  Yeah, liquids and softs only.  He couldn’t chew.  And the meds could just dissolve for the most part.  God how I hated going to that corner.

Though using the contents of that corner were now part of the common daily routine, I still kept them tucked away back there.  In the corner.  I’d like to say that it got easier to visit that area to retrieve the next dose, but it wasn’t.  Always with a fair amount of reluctance and with weighty, tired legs and a lump in my throat.  We last visited that area about 6:00 AM eleven days later.  Dad would have no need for the meds in a few hours.  

Around 10:40 or so, he moved to a new room with a new corner.  THAT room is filled with the presence not of a bed, but a throne.  The throne of the Great Healer.  And in the corner of that room?  Nothing hidden or unlabeled.  Dad is one of the ‘fellow citizens…of the household of God…Christ Jesus himself being the cornerstone” (Ephesians 2:19-20).  The sights, sounds and smells in that corner are beautiful beyond description.  No hesitation.  No reluctance.  No heavy legs. No morphine.  No regretful daily logs.  No muttered prayers. 

Oh, how I love that corner of that room!

What Christmas Means to Me - 2025 version

Christmas is a time for crying.  As I walk through Yuletide-ness this particular year, that reality hits a little differently since dad’s passing on July 2.  The flag waving of early July was numbing.  First birthday without him in October.  First Thanksgiving with that empty seat.  We actually ate at a different table this year so we wouldn’t have that stark reality front and center.  Seasonal red and green decorations still missing as the purple and yellow permanent flowers we chose for the funeral adorn the mantle (Skol Vikings!).  So…a bit of crying this Christmas.

But that’s usually the case for me.  Has been for me for a while now.  Crying.  Crying out.  I know for many, this time of year means quaint snowy hillsides and a quiet swaddled infant, but I think desperation and chaos are more apt.  Silent night not so much.  The incarnation is a celebration of unexpectedly and powerfully answered prayer.  A final, fulfilling response to a yearning too deep for words.  

This year found me spending some quality time with words in the book of Psalms.  These poems and songs cross the spectrum of emotions and longings.  That was more than appropriate for me and 2025.  The psalms have previously been, and still are, a bit mysterious to me.  Because the content is so gut-level and raw in many passages, it’s difficult for me to embrace.  Kind of just want to hide from the realness of it and of life.  Then, you do some living.  And you see some dying.  You do some living and see some dying and suddenly the bluntness of the Psalms makes a little more sense.  As I get older, some of those harsh and abrupt expressions find a home.  They catch my ear…and my soul.  And like a sky canvassed by an angel choir, I was amazingly confronted with a great truth.  A theme had developed in my journey through Psalms as a key characteristic of God was heralded.  The volume of this proclamation hit its apex in mid-August.

An odd little thing happened to me a few times about then.  And it suddenly got a bit more concerning.  It only took place in one room and only at one particular time of day.  As I would be getting ready for bed, I would experience episodes of vertigo.  Never had it before in any form. But for a few days, it was like clockwork.  Spinning room for five to ten seconds and after I laid down, it was fine.  Until it wasn’t.  One night, the spinning wouldn’t stop.  Lay down, spinning.  Close my eyes, spinning.  Deep breaths, spinning.  Every movement I made, or didn’t make, led to more spinning.  Like David dodging spears aimed directly at him or Asaph bemoaning the circumstances that surround him, I just… reacted.  Reacted with something impulsive.  Something hasty and impassioned.    

That particular morning, I had found myself in Psalm 34.  And that morning’s reading became that day’s meditation and then became my evening’s urgently repeated cry to counteract my intense vertigo onset.  Verse 17 tells us that “when the righteous cry for help, the Lord hears…”.  And that right there is a truth that calms spinning rooms and soothes wayward hearts.

The Lord hears.

The Lord hears.

Praise God!  The Lord hears.

That August evening, THIS poor man cried out, and the Lord heard ME and saved ME out of MY trouble (verse 6).  It’s not just that after chanting that truth out loud over and over again, the vertigo vanished.  It was more than that.  The trouble of spinning was gone, but so too was the trouble of anxiety and worry about it.  The concern of wondering if walking through that circumstance in particular, and life in general, would be a solo venture was removed.  The struggle of trudging through another day without sensing in a tangible way the steadfast love of God that fills the pages of the Psalms was no more.  My room stopped spinning and my heart was being pursued.  A cry answered.

After that, the vertigo never returned.  Only had it those few times over the course of a week or so.  But that truth stuck with me.  And if you allow yourself to dwell on that truth a bit, like a Psalmist, you uncover more gems.  If the Lord hears, then we can conclude that He understands. (He doesn’t just HEAR, He LISTENS!)  And if He understands, then His character demands that He will act.  God is an initiator.  He is all about looking, hearing, remembering, relenting, and causing (see Psalm 106:44-46).  He will act in such a way that His glory and our good is known and experienced. Yes, even in one of THOSE situations.  Even in THAT circumstance. 

Think back on the last few weeks or months or years.  What made your room or your world spin?  Painful as it may be, name it.  Note it.  Remember it.  Place yourself again in that atmosphere or that place or that time.  And then cry out.  Cry for help.  Just cry.  The Lord hears.

The Lord hears.

The Lord hears.

Praise God!  The Lord hears.

The interesting, and confusing and frustrating, thing is that what happens next doesn’t always look like success.  King David cried out, but his son still died.  The people of God cried out, but were still taken captive.  Justice cries out, but the enemy still shows evidence of progress.  But that is where the beauty of the Christmas season shines forth.  What we celebrate with Christ’s birth is not just what happened NEXT.  It is more than just the NEXT step in the ongoing story of life.  It is the FINAL one.  With the birth of Jesus, the full answer to humanity’s cry is given.  And along with his life, death, resurrection, ascension, and coming return, there is a completeness to our story with Christ.  A final answer to our many cries.  The subsequent carnage of our spinning lives meets its end.

Every year about this time, a phrase jumps out from a Christmas carol or other seasonal song that lingers with me.  Cuts to the heart of the gospel truth of Christmas.  In years past, that has included things like “be near me Lord Jesus, I ask Thee to stay”, “He comes to make His blessings flow far as the curse is found”, “O come O King of nations, bind in one the hearts of all mankind”, “long lay the world in sin and error pining ‘til He appeared and the soul felt it’s worth”, “give me a star” (might need to look that one up…it’s one from the Winans), “passover us” (maybe that one too, it’s from Andrew Peterson), and so many more.  And as you can see, that theme of our crying out, and God graciously answering, frequently makes an appearance as I worship through the season.  Like I said, Christmas to me means crying out.  

This year’s song that keeps rolling the gospel truth of the season around in my mind isn’t really a Christmas song.  It’s a Psalm song.  Verse 1 of Psalm 116 says “I love the Lord, because he has heard my voice…”.  This year, my crying has fueled my love for my Lord.  I pray and trust that your soul too can find rest in knowing that the Lord hears.

The Lord hears.

The Lord hears.

Praise God!  The Lord hears!

New Perspective on an Old Scam

Don't look at me like that. You've received them too.

Send money now. Insert the sad and implausible tale of a unique situation gone awry. Don't forget the foreign angle to play off the 'we-are-Americans-and-nothing-so-odd-and-unfortunate-like-that-could-ever-happen-in-OUR-society' mindset. The massive breakdown of common sense, financial wherewithal and natural human decency all converge to plead with and prey upon the most compassionate and quick-to-act stateside souls.

Yeah, you've received just the email I'm talking about, haven't you? Well, we got one recently. On his way back from Europe and XYZ happened and now my former business/ministry associate needed money wired to him pronto.

Immediately my 'let me handle this' mentality kicked in and I began guffawing as I listed the numerous ways that the story just couldn't hold up. Nice try, buddy. Yes, I had outsmarted this hacker with my logic and was proud of it.

Then the real and far-more-inspiring truth hit me. There was absolutely no way my friend could have sent that email. I'm not sure how good he is at spelling or the status of his grammar skills, but it goes much deeper than that. I read the paragraph again and again. It's what wasn't there that I then saw more clearly.

You see, the supposed emailer and I share a common faith. We've both experienced the miracle of new birth. We both have been saved by grace through faith. Jesus is Savior and Lord and both of us embrace that truth. And as I remembered every interaction I've ever had with this man, I couldn't imagine a scenario in which these characteristics wouldn't be on display. Including an emergency email from a foreign country.

I have been contemplating Matthew 5:16 lately. "Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven." I think the best of our actions do exactly that. Somehow, they invite others in the path of those labors to note not how great WE are but instead to look right through us to see how great a God we serve. And I'm not talking about just the do-good activities that generally come to mind with these light-shining functions. It can be done with happenings from feeding the poor to encouraging the downtrodden to...well, simply communicating with others.

It can get to the point like it had with my associate. It was as if he was a walking, talking ambassador here among us of some other kingdom. And that's exactly what he is. As am I. And all believers and followers of Christ as we venture on as pilgrims through this world. It becomes our defining characteristic. It can be seen in unique situations when called upon (like needing a lot of money in an emergency) and in the mundane everyday moments of life (like sending an email). Put those two together, and He still wants to shine through us so others see Him.

Things will happen. Someday, my friend may be caught up in some emergency. His only logical response to it might be to contact his friends and acquaintances and humbly ask for help. But the gospel light within him will phrase that potential email in such a way that I will not be looking just at him and his need but at our common Provider instead. My prayer is that if you interact with me today, you will see the same thing.

Join me in the journey, won't you? Send no money.

Christmas Countdown 2010 - Dec 3

Don't Miss Christmas

I couldn't help but notice a couple of things today in the normal course of events. Here they are:

* did some quick shopping during my lunch break, along with half of Iredell County. As I was strolling out the door, I caught a bit of the song that was playing in the background. "Christ, the Savior is born...Christ, the Savior is born". I stopped for a moment and just marveled at that truth. The gospel being sung and heard in your local store, and I wondered how many paid no attention to it at all. And how many times I have done the same.

* three words: Christmas in Davidson. Friends and festivities in a somewhat Bedford Falls-ish setting. Can't beat that. As we sat through a simple live nativity storytelling time done by one of the local churches, complete with an actual camel and donkeys, I was again struck by the simple yet amazing words that were read and sung. With kids intently looking to see if the baby was real or just a doll, and William asking me to go see the camel again, I noticed that the sound system being used in the parking lot was able to pick up much of the general hub-bub and background noise that the setting provided. And in the midst of it all, there again was the truth of a Savior come to save His people from their sins. Amazing.

So notice that the truth is around us. Don't miss Christmas.

Christmas Countdown 2010 - Dec 2

Decorating the Tree!

Random thoughts about how the Christmas tree gets decorated in these here parts...

1 - since our tree is usually a little Charlie Brown-ish, the picture at left is all that I will post. Needless to say, this year that particular ornament got put near the bottom of the tree.

2 - you know how sometimes when you are a kid, you say to yourself "I am never going to do that when I get older"? And then sometimes you don't but sometimes you do it anyway? Well, one thing that I WILL NEVER DO is put those little iddy biddy silver icicle thingies on a Christmas tree. Maybe it was the time spent painstakingly taking each strand out of storage and placing it equally around all portions of the tree as a child. Maybe it was my sense of laziness that accompanied that particular step in the Christmas prep process. But something years ago gave me the strong desire to NOT use that form of decorations. Proud to say that I have lived up to this one and always will. And let's not even go there regarding having to take them all off the tree and back in storage for another year!

3 - key factor in tree decorating is placement of the tree in relation to the window. Must see yuletide cheer in light form when coming home from work. Our children are well-trained on making sure the lights are on for this to happen.

4 - the 'under the tree' stockpile grows at a decent clip here with two December birthdays in the household.

5 - you kids have fun on your 'lets-go-cut-down-our-own-tree-and-haul-it-home' outing. Been there, done that (and it was fun). But we've resigned ourselves to just getting the box out of the storage area in the garage. Pre-lit, baby!

6 - what to put at the top of the tree? In the past, we've had angels, the cross, a bell one year I think... This year it's a mistletoe sprig.

7 - ah, the Christmas tree...a great opportunity to sing 'O Tannenbaum'...auf Deutsch nachturlich!

My Little Black Book

It is usually a bit of advice that I give to others. This evening, I had the privilege of it's benefit.

Often we fail to take the time to stop and...oh, what's the best word. Evaluate? Consider? Remember? Take stock? Acknowledge? Count your blessings? So, in the midst of 'everything is so (fill in the blank...wrong/crazy/hard/difficult/unfair/depressing/etc)' type of moments, I try to encourage others to look around a bit and see things with a slightly new perspective. Look back a few weeks/months/years and see what progress has been made.

So tonight I started to clean up and organize of bit of my little kingdom of piles-o-stuff around the house. We're having some people over this weekend and, well, I just thought it appropriate to do so. And the pile of papers, books and other items on top of the desk was the first place to tackle. Soon my little black book was uncovered and I started leafing through it.

This 88-cent gem has been used in many varied ways. It has been my source for simple note-taking and thought-jotting-down for a while now. I like it because it is small enough to fit in my pocket easily and therefore is quite mobile when it needs to be. I saw notes on meetings I had attended and pieces of information that just couldn't stay in my mind. Go ahead, see if you can rattle off the model and serial number of your water heater! It is not a foolproof system, however, since one page had a list of phrases that were apparently there to jog my memory for blog post ideas. They look like great titles/ideas, but I'm afraid the inspiration isn't there for the details anymore.

But I did enjoy reminding myself of a number of things that the last few months have produced. Notes on the joyful truth of our covenant-making and covenant-keeping God. Multiple prayer requests from our small group at church that have joyously been answered. Reminders about how to prepare for certain things that were just what I needed to read and hear about now. Insights on a new study/reading/discussion plan that has seen great growth and impact since it started. Key passages and phrases from scripture that redirected my gaze. The word 'thankfulness' attached to one person in particular multiple times and one who I would easily say is characterized by, well, being thankful. And then there's those water heater details that reminded me of a couple of cold, quick showers in the mornings and the subsequent provision of a new and improved and energy-saving water heater!

Life suddenly seems a bit better. A little spring in my step now. The last few months have not been silent. They too have proclaimed a little bit more of our sovereign God's love, care and concern. And for that I am grateful.

If you've got your own little notebook of goodies from the months gone by, go find it and put it in it's right place. That may mean 'off the stack of books and papers' if you haven't cleaned up for a while like me. But it definitely means refreshing your mind and soul with a thankful review.

Seven Weeks and a Towel

It was the woman you gave me, Lord!

So goes the joke that surrounds the events now seven weeks old. And that’s exactly what it is…just a joke. It wasn’t Sarah’s fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. Sometimes things happen. And sometimes when those things happen, a bone gets broken.

We were just having fun with our son on the basketball court. In the flash of a moment, legs got tangled and the two of us were going down. Sarah fell gracefully. Me? Not so much.

Ice kept the swelling down long enough to get me to a Sunday afternoon visit to the urgent care. X-rays confirmed that the tip of the radius head bone in my left arm was broken. I’m not sure what goes through your mind when you hear ‘broken arm’, but here’s what goes through mine. Pain and expense and time. But instead of dwelling on the details of what I was thinking at that moment, let’s fast forward to the truth of which I was again graciously reminded.

Healing happens.

Our bodies amazingly not only allow for healing, but actually argue for it. Here is the list of applied remedies and medical assistance for the situation I found myself in: seven weeks and a towel. Well, at least it looked like a towel. Upon concluding that my arm was broken, the helpful nurses and technicians at the local urgent care decided that a towel was the trick. “We’ll just put this on your arm, it will conform to your elbow and forearm, and you’ll be good to go.” Good until the soon-coming appointment with the orthopedic doctor, that is. Here we go, I thought. This was going to be the first of many steps. Surgeries, repeat visits to medical facilities, and more. So they applied the towel thing to my arm and sure enough it hardened a bit and took the shape of my arm and was a temporary cast that I could take on and off until my appointment. But when that came, the surprising commenced.

“No further casting needed.”

“Just keep your arm in the temporary cast as needed throughout the day.”

“Give it a few weeks and it should be fine.”

And then the clincher. “Unless you have some issues or problems, I don’t even think it is necessary to see you again.”

So here we are seven weeks later. I have not spent another penny on any medical needs regarding the arm. I have not had another doctor visit regarding the arm. And the arm is…healing. I’ve been without the towel/cast for a couple of weeks now. What once was extremely painful soon became doable with a wince and then became done as normal (pretty much normal anyway). I can remember not being able to reach to a certain degree with my arm. Now I can. The little I did use it caused soreness. Now not so much. There were many limitations to how I could use the arm. Now…well, there are still some, but progressing nicely, thank you very much.

So here I am. Seven weeks later. Amazed at the healing that can take place when you just allow the body to do its thing. And thankful for the grace that makes it possible.

The author of that grace and these bodies has much more in store for those who place their trust in Him. So if you find yourself in an ‘urgent care’ scenario and are tempted to start adding up the bills, the ongoing pain, and never-ending problems of what lies ahead, try and re-direct your trust. Who knows what seven weeks and a towel might bring?