Strikeouts and a Walk-Off Home Run

 

We ended our seasons by striking out.  Each of the kids—Owen (16), Brendan (14) and Kinsley (13) each played on baseball or softball teams this year.  Each of them had successful years, individually.  Each of them no only lost their last game, but ended their season with their last plate appearance resulting in a strikeout. 

 

As we mark the 17^th anniversary of our son Micah’s homegoing today, we reflect on what we have lost in these past 17 years.  I assure our fellow grief sojourners that we never stop grieving.  You never stop missing the ones you hold dear.  We could not encourage Micah in music, sports and school. We could not enjoy encouraging his unique attributes flourish into who God made Micah to be.  From a worldly perspective, we struck out with Micah even before the game started.

 

But we live in the faith that there is more than what we see on the field and in our physical, temporal lives.  We trust in the God who not only created us, but sent His son Jesus to die for us, and to give us new life in Jesus.  That Jesus, because He is God, was able to take on the punishment that we deserved, and died the death we should have died, in order that we can experience God’s love for us eternally. 

 

We join the apostle Paul in trusting that God is sovereign over pain, suffering, and death.

 

“When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the moral puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written:

 

               “Death is swallowed up in victory.”

               Death, where is your victory?

               O death, where is your sting.

 

The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

 

My senior year in college, I struck out to end my team’s season, and my college career.  All of us have stuck out—if not in baseball, but certainly in life.  But in Christ we have a great home run hitter.  We have the great Savior who will not only save us from our deaths, and resurrect our buried son, but show us how the grief and tears of the past 17 years have been worth it all.  Instead of a strikeout, Micah was intentionally walked, and then Jesus sent him Home to Heaven through a walk-off home run.  A home run, through no credit of Micah’s, but because of the superior ability of our Savior Lord.  All of us will likewise share in the victory that Micah experienced on July 27, 2009, when Jesus “hit him Home to Heaven” through the greatest of walk-off Homers.

God's Plans for Us

 

Are you happy that Micah died?

My daughter Kinsley’s question caught us a bit off guard.  Of course we are not happy that Micah died, we responded.  But we have seen so many blessings over the past 16 years.  Our daughter has picked up on how we have preached to ourselves the blessings of suffering.

We have been awakened to a spiritual world that would have otherwise been insulated from us in our own self-absorption.  We have learned the blessings of mutually-supporting relationships with fellow grieving parents.  We have learned the need for dependence on a good and sovereign God.  We are awakened to the needs of those around us.

God calls us to trust in him, even when we can “only see through a glass dimly.” (1 Corinthians 13:12).  As His thoughts are not our thoughts, and His ways are not our ways, so we cannot know all of the purposes he is accomplishing through our suffering.  If we thought we oversaw our own existence, we would have the difficulty of determining what sufferings we would allow ourselves to endure

About the faith of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abendego, Tim Keller wrote, “Their confidence was actually in God, not in their limited understanding of what they thought he would do.  They had inner assurance that God would rescue them….Their confidence was in God himself, not in some agenda that they wanted God to promote.”

We told that Kinsely that we don’t have to determine what types of sufferings are good for us; God does that for us.  Though we continue to see His purposes only through a dark glass, we look forward to seeing Him, face to face, when we can be happy in the presence of Jesus.

Happy 16^th Homegoing, Micah. 

 

A Certain Hope: 15 Years Since Micah's Homegoing

Many of us face tremendous uncertainty in various areas of life:

 

Uncertainty about our professional future or our finances;

Uncertainty about whether (or when) our country might fall apart;

Uncertainty about our health or relationships.

 

I was encouraged recently to remember that the Greek word used by Paul for “Hope” (“Elpis”) is actually better translated as "confident expectation."  Elpis implies that something is going to happen, and the subject is anticipating it with confidence. Rather than “hoping” that the promises of God might possibly come to pass, we can trust that even as we grieve tremendous loss, we grieve in certainty.  We can be certain in the redemption of all things, including our most difficult sufferings.  We can be certain that the God that spoke the entire universe into being by His words promises that we who mourn will be blessed (Matthew 4); that our sufferings bring Glory to God because they demonstrate God’s power (2 Corinthians 4), and that it will, somehow, someday, be ultimately for the good of those who love Him (Revelation 8:28). 

There are over 50 uses in the New Testament of “hope” (Elpis).  While we might be uncertain about our circumstances, we can be certain in all that God has promised for us in and through his son, Jesus Christ.   Romans 15:13 reads “May the God of confident expectation fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with confident expectation by the power of the Holy Spirit.” 

Thanks, friends, for your encouragement to us as we mark 15 years since Micah’s homegoing.

Thirteen Years

 Thirteen Years today since Micah went ahead of us into eternity.   Our lives are far more bearable today than in the past 13 years.  We are very blessed with three great living kids, a nice house, and jobs that seem to pay enough to put enough food on the table and even in the dog dish.

But we are not alone when we say with certainty that no amount of pleasant earthly circumstances can completely salve the wounds we experienced on July 27, 2009.  Whether you are a fellow bereaved parent like me, or someone who has already endured another form of significant suffering, you know just how deep human grief and suffering can travel into the depths of your soul.  Our lives were meant for eternity and for God, and significant suffering provides us with the blessing of knowing that nothing on this side of eternity can fill the void that only God can fill.  

On this 13^th anniversary of Micah’s death, we are again reminded of that which is our sole solace and hope, which is the redemption of all things, for all time, for all beings, for our good, and to God’s glory, when Jesus comes back to take us His bride to Heaven. "No eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined what God has prepared for those who love him."  1 Corinthians 2:9.  Hope for the Mourning is not ultimately found not in this world, but the next. 

Twelve Years: High Expectations of Heaven

“Under-promise and over-deliver.”  With the guidance of mentors, I have tried to implement this business proverb into my law practice.  But what of those who don’t seem to mind over-promising?  Are we willing to rely upon their boasts?  When it comes to faith, are we willing to take a chance on God, even though many of us have been abused by the unmet promises of salesman whose follow-up mantra is, “buyer beware,” and “all sales final.” 

Today, July 27^th, marks the 12^th anniversary of the death of our oldest son Micah.  As we mark yet another year without him, a friend and fellow grieving dad and I recently contemplated how we would interact with our deceased sons once we see them again in heaven.  Specially, how will they appear to us?  Will our sons appear the age of when they died on earth, or the age that they would be now, on earth, if they had not died?  More generally, will we even recognize our son?  What information will they already have, and what will we need to catch them up on?

I have low expectations for the coffee I (rarely) buy at a gas station.  I try to keep my expectations reasonable when it comes to my kids’ behavior, school and sport performance.  I am a relatively easy-to-please consumer.  The “cost” to me of these expectations is relatively low, because I did not give up much in return.  I have not staked my life satisfaction on these expectations.  But when it comes to my expectations for the results of significant suffering, such as the death of my son, I have extremely high expectations.

God makes audacious claims for those who stick it out in faithfulness to him and remain faithful to the end.  God has promised an eternity to us, his faithful children, that is currently uncontemplated for even the most imaginative of human minds.  In his first letter to the Corinthians, Paul writes, “No eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined, what God has prepared for those who love him.”   1 Corinthians 2:9. 

In Revelation 21:3-6, we read about Jesus’ bold, unmatched claims, claims that will either lead to us being the most pitiable of all mean for trusting in His promises, or be met in unspeakable glory for their grand fulfillment.  “And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man.  He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself with be with them as their God.  He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.  And he who was seated on the throne said, Behold, I am making all things new….to the thirsty I will give from the spring of the water of life without payment. ”

In Fyodor Dostoyevsky’s novel, Brothers Karamazov, the main character Ivan Karamazov, attempts to make sense of suffering.  About the end result of our suffering, we says, “I believe like a child that suffering will be healed and made up for, that all the humiliating absurdity of human contradictions will vanish like a pitiful mirage….that in the world’s finale, at the moment of eternal harmony, something so precious will come to pass that it will suffice for all hearts, for the comforting of all resentments, for the atonement of all the crimes of humanity, of all the blood that they’ve shed; that is will make it not only possible to forgive but to justify all that has happened.”

I expect that in the world’s finale we will not have a collective memory purge of our sufferings, but a full recognition of the meaning and purposes of our sufferings.  God’s “making all things new” will show us the meaning to our deepest sufferings, such deep and profound meaning that each and every one of us will be glad for how God worked through suffering.  We will see how God has so orchestrated all of human existence, between human relationships and events, across thousands and thousands of years, that our suffering will turn out for God’s glory and our good.

If I were to die now, I imagine a game of baseball catch with my 13-year old son.  We would play under the shade of the cherry tree we planted in Minneapolis the summer after he died, having full knowledge of the pain that his death caused us, but by reason of the demonstrated goodness of God, knowing that God’s redemptive purposes made the pain worthwhile.  While we have wept a thousand times for our Micah, we shall live ten thousand times ten thousand years together in eternity.     

And not just us, but all of us can live in high expectations of God’s redemptive purposes.  Each of us will say, about our individual and collective sufferings, “Yes, it was worth it all, in the end.” Our losses during a finite lifespan will ultimately be viewed like finite drops of water in an infinite ocean.  How much more significant are the relationships forged through the fire of affliction in contrast to a few years of life lived in relative ease.  I fully expect that God will over-deliver on His promises, even with such audacious claims.

Our Weakness As Godly Gain

 On this Easter, I have been reflecting on how the nature of our “topsy-turvey,” upside-down, inside-out, role-reversed faith.  At Easter, we revel in the fact that we are not saved by our own good acts, the length of our lives, or the wealth we accumulate or give away.  Instead, we stand in complete and utter dependence on Jesus’ physical death and physical resurrection more than 2,000 years ago.  Our hope is inextricably tied to the power of the Resurrection of Jesus. 

In 1 Corinthians 1:27, Paul writes,

“God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God.  And because of him who are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption, so that, as it is written, “Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.”

Many of us who lost children in infancy or youth struggle with understanding God’s purposes and the child’s ongoing legacy.  So many of us wanted a different legacy for our children.  But the great role reversal of the Christian faith is that we have every assurance that the eternal destiny and legacy of those who are saved by Christ is secure by reason of Jesus’ work for us.  Jesus is my wisdom, my righteousness, my redemption, just as Jesus is Micah’s wisdom, righteousness, and redemption. 

To the degree that we can “boast,” or take pride in, our own achievements, we have the tendency to focus our thoughts and efforts on those tasks.  But if we are weak in the eyes of the world – if we are sick, sad, stupid, disheveled, and poor--we remove some of our natural inclinations towards making much of ourselves.  When you feel week in the eyes of the world, how does that magnify God?  To the degree that we spend little to no focus on our own merits and efforts to merit attention, we magnify God’s good name.  In some sense, then, I must align my own legacy in humility to be the same as my first born and now deceased son Micah’s legacy.   On this Easter, we do well to align our true subjective hope with the objective reality of the Resurrected and Risen Lord. 

 

11th Anniversary of Micah's Homegoing

Today marks the 11^th anniversary of Micah’s sudden death on July 27, 2009.  Without a doubt, we miss Micah’s presence with our family.  We wonder how each of Owen, Brendan and Kinsley would have benefitted from having an older brother.  Both our kitchen table and our dining room table have room for six, and so we are always sitting with that one empty chair—a thrice daily reminder of the weight of the loss we have endured. 

On this 11^th anniversary of Micah’s unexpected death, Heather and I have also felt the weight of the continued outpouring of the love and support from our family and friends.  We marvel at the time and personal expense absorbed by those who have taken the time to write, call or meet us in order to support us in our grief.  We are amazed at the generosity of friends and even acquaintances who have given so generously to Hope for the Mourning so that the ministry can reach out to fellow grieving parents.  We glad to report that our work days were very unproductive by reason of all the emails, texts and calls we received. 

Again on this anniversary, we thank the Lord again for these fellow grieving couples who showed us God’s love, even through their own brokenness in grief.  To paraphrase and apply the words of encouragement from Paul in 2 Corinthians 4, our friends are, in their sacrifices to us, “carrying in their bodies the death of Jesus,” so that the life of Jesus might be displayed in the lives of Cory and Heather Wessman.” 2 Corinthians 4: 11.  These friends have taken it upon themselves to absorb a cost of some kind on our behalf, whether emotional, physical, time or financial, so that we can be encouraged.  It is our prayer that, in some small way, we can take on that same “death” in our own bodies. 

Earlier today, about fifty of our friends showed us this sacrifice in very tangible terms.  Beginning at 5:30 am this morning, we conducted our third annual “Hills for Hope” challenge.  Each of the participants agreed (yes, of their own free choice!) to complete an obstacle course that entailed:

1.       Running straight up the “Bigfoot” Ski Run at Hyland Hills ski area, then back down;

2.       Completing 10 burpees, 20 pushups and 30 situps;

3.       Repeating 1 and 2 as many times as possible (one “loop”) over 90 minutes!

The participants pledged a “poor loop” pledge.  With a total of 334.5 loops completed, our team was able to raise $12,919 for Hope for the Mourning!

These friends quite literally carried pain and weakness in their bodies for 90 minutes (well, and for an indeterminate number of days following today’s event) in order to allow the life of Jesus to be displayed in others. Just as others have used their own sufferings to bless us in our own grief journey, these friends suffered in a physical and financial sense, in order to encourage us and others.  Thanks, friends, for carrying the cost in our bodies, in order that we might experience the love of Christ in our own lives, and pass along that love to others through Hope for the Mourning.