Rejecting the Idols of the Immediate

“If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ, who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory.” Colossians 3:1-4.

In this passage from Ephesians, the Apostle Paul calls us to reject a focus on “this” life and instead focus on matters of eternal significance. How difficult it is for most of us to “set our minds on things above,” when it seems that 99% of our waking moments are consumed by thoughts of what I refer to as the “idols of the immediate.” We spend most of our time thinking about good things--workplace pressures, financial needs; family matter. In our case, we are knee-deep in crying babies, changing diapers. Others might spend time thinking about social life, sports, or entertainment.

Regardless of what interests and background we have, we tend to surround ourselves with people who think the same way we do, value the same things we do, and reinforce for us, in our own minds, that same value system as to “idols of the immediate.” I recall a humorous conversation with a client of mine about how certain professionals in my industry (attorneys) value themselves and their work. It became clear to this client that the only people who were concerned about certain titles within our industry are the attorneys themselves—our clients don’t care. Similarly, I wonder how much we consider “important” in our minds or our own social circles are just idols of the immediate—that is, empty promises of satisfaction that, if followed wholeheartedly throughout a lifetime, will only lead to disillusionment and then ultimately destruction.

Every once in a while, I re-discover a continuing, ongoing blessing from Micah’s homegoing. When a great calamity strikes, such as the unexpected death of one son, it is such much easier to pick up on those idols of the immediate and reject them for what they are, and then refocus our lives and energies where they ought to be--on the eternal. I’m certain that, in the absence of Micah’s death, Heather and I would be more closely tied, in heart, thought and action, in achieving what we want on this life (“things on this earth”). For us, Micah’s death meant that we could more easily focus on matters of eternal significance.

Currently Unknown Recipients of Grace

Following Micah's death, we received a kind gift of a new cherry tree in honor of Micah. When we planted it in the backyard of our South Minneapolis home in the fall of 2009, we of course had no idea whether that little tree would live.  This past winter, we sold our home in South Minneapolis and moved to a new home in the western suburbs. This week, I was surpised to receive an email from the new homeowner with a picture of the cherry tree (which Heather and I liked to refer to as "Micah's Tree.")  This year's blossoms were better than in any previous year, and the new homeowner(s) will enjoy Micah's tree for years to come. While we wish we could have brought the tree with us to our new home, I was happy that the tree appears in good health. 

In the case of Micah's Tree, a previously-unplanned and unknown recipient now benefits from the gift originally intended for us.  As God works in our lives to change us and our loved ones to be more like Him, do we really have any idea who will benefit from this?  In many cases, we have a good handle on who the recipients of God's grace will be.  But I think I often limit the reach of God's power, as if God will only impact those individuals that I currently know or see in front of me.  God is not bound by any such artificial and human limitations.  God's power is, as Paul said in Romans, "beyond tracing out," and his power beyond anything we can even imagine.  Along with numerous other grieving parents, I look forward to the day of our Great Reunion, when we can begin to realize how God used our greatest sufferings to achieve his purposes, even in the midst of great grief. 

Do Christians Grieve Differently?

In a recent blog post, John Piper shared a letter he wrote to a recently bereaved mother.  www.desiringgod.org/blog/posts/letter-to-a-parent-grieving-the-loss-of-a-child.

Particularly if you are a fellow grieving parent, I would encourage you to read Pastor John's post.  I appreciate Pastor John's thoughtful, grace-filled response to this grieving parent.  I also thought his post would be a good answer to the question (not asked of him directly) of "Do Christians Grieve Differently?

On the one hand, we might not outwardly appear to grieve differently.  We mourn.  We cry.  We hurt like we've never hurt before.  Our ways of dealing with this grief, as Christians, are all over the board. I've known parents who go to the cemetery every day; others who have not been back since the funeral.  Most of us like to share memories of our child; a few don't.  But regardless, all of us hurt.  Piper likened our loss to an amputation, which I believe is an apt description, to the extent any description can be. 

While we may outwardly exhibit grief like the rest of the world, Christians do not inwardy grieve like rest of the world.  We are always grieving, but also always rejoicing, knowing what the future has in store.  We know, for certain, that we will see our son Micah again.  As stated in 1 Thessalonians 4:13, we grieve in hope for what is to come. For just as certainly as Christ died and rose again, so He certainly redeemed the life of our son and the lives  of millions of other children who have died as infants or young children.  The outward grief is merely a function of time--the anticipated length of time we, as parents, have to wait to see our children again, and the time of sin, disease and death that thwarts our God-given desire to raise full and complete families.  These times, however long, will ultimately pass away, and then at long last we will see our son, again, by the grace of God. 

Deliverance Through Weakness

In a recent sermon, Bethlehem Baptist Preaching Pastor Jason Meyer discussed how the “twin peaks” of praise and hope can arise even from within the “valley” of suffering, if we suffer in Christ.  http://www.hopeingod.org/sermon/god-all-comfort. Meyer describes how, if we turn our heart’s affections towards God, then our lives will ultimately overflow in a lifestyle of praise towards God even in times of suffering. Meyer cautioned, however, that suffering will not have this desired effect for those of us who, at various times, have felt like we needed to respond to suffering by pretending to “have it together” so as to avoid the humbling experience of receiving the assistance of others. 

Meyer preached that,

“Some of us are in danger of not being worshippers because we are not in touch with our weakness. Sometimes people feel pressure in the church to act like they have it altogether. Let me be frank. If you act like you always have it altogether, then you make praise impossible because you act as though you don’t need to be delivered—you act like you have arrived and don’t need grace or God anymore. How do can you urge someone to praise God with you and enjoy his deliverance if you act like you never needed it in the first place? Being in touch with your weakness and your need for deliverance, primes the pump for praise to come when the deliverance comes!”

In my case, I think my own attempts to be “outwardly religious” hampered the ability of others to minister to Heather and me in the time since Micah died.  I remember specific instances of hoping that Heather might not say or do certain things because I thought they might either seem “Un-christian” or “un-spiritual” to fellow unbelievers.

This prideful, “perception over reality” approach to suffering is diametrically opposed to Paul’s Christ-centered approach.  Rather than hide his weakness, Paul heard God telling him, “…My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.” (2 Corinthians 12:9).   If you are like me, you need to let pride die.  After all, what is more important to you—a perception that you have it all together, or submitting to the humility of accepting God’s assistance through others, and therefore having Christ’s power rest on you? 

Kinsley Marie

Dear Friends,

Heather and I are very excited to announce the birth of our precious little girl, Kinsley Marie Wessman, born at 11:56 am on Tuesday, April 2nd. Kinsley weighed 7 pounds, 9 ounces at birth.

She was 21 inches long. Both Kinsley and Heather are doing well.

As some of you know, we were expecting our oldest child, Micah, to be a girl before he was born in 2008. After Micah's unexpected death, we were blessed with two more sons, Owen (now almost 3) and Brendan (20 months). Now, with the actual (and not just expected) birth of a girl, we feel like God has brought us full circle, and that Kinsley's story will always be tied to Micah's.

Along with David, we thank God for Kinsley, the fourth of our undeserved little gifts from Him.

"Bless The Lord, o my soul,
And forget not all his benefits...
Who satisfies you with good
So that your youth is renewed like the eagle's."
Psalm 103:2,5.

On behalf of Heather and three proud older brothers, thank you for your prayers and support.
Cory

Changing Conception of God

I have recently reflected upon how our grief following Micah’s death has begun to rid us of certain religious pretenses—certain misconceptions of God that, in light of all that has happened, need to be thrown out.  Our conception of how God works, and who He is, has changed by reason of Micah’s death. Before Micah died, we would have pat “Sunday school” answers whenever faced with a potential trauma.  Intellectually, I would (wrongly) take comfort in the (false) belief that God’s purpose in difficult personal situations would be to “rescue” me so as to avoid personal discomfort. 

In the intervening years since Micah’s death, I think our relationship with God was marked, in large part, by shock.  While we have depended wholly on God, we’ve also not really thought a whole lot about leaning on the same God whose kindness and mercy took our son away from us.

Now, as we emerge more and more from the “fog” of shock as part of the grieving process, we ask these questions once again.  This time, however, we can’t give the pat “Sunday school” answer any more; not only is this conception of God too superficial, but it just doesn’t work.  In speaking with other grieving parents, the result for many of us is a huge intellectual “void” in our lives. We don’t question the existence of God or even that He is involved in our lives.  It is that we cannot provide an answer to the deepest, most significant questions in our lives, a question that is at the forefront of the minds of most grieving parents I know.  The question, “why did God allow this to happen?” is often met with just silence. 

We answer it with a Job-like silence, a silence that (I pray) brings glory and honor to God.  We don’t know, and all we can do is keep trusting in Him, changing whatever previous conception we had of God that is demonstrably false.   Recently, I’ve tried to encourage myself that having a changing conception of God is a good thing.  After all, the Pharisees had a very wrong conception of God, and if the Pharisees had listened to Jesus and become His disciples, their conceptions of God would have been dramatically altered.  Job’s conceptions of God changed; certainly the friends of Job who gave him “counsel” had an altered conception of God through Job’s sufferings. 

The downside, of course, to a changing conception of God is that we can’t control God.  I can control a God (or, at least I thought I could) who works to provide me with good things when I want in the manner that I want.  For all of us humans who endure suffering, God uses this suffering in our lives to move us beyond the “pat” Sunday School answers to open up our minds to increase our understanding of our Great God, a God whose means are “beyond our tracing out.” 

Red Hair & Faulty Ultrasounds

Brett and Mandy Peterson are friends of ours and fellow grieving parents.  One of Brett and Mandy’s four children, Chase, died tragically a few years ago.  One of Chase’s striking physical characteristics was his red hair.  Just recently, Mandy gave birth to their fourth child, a son, Tanner.  Brett and Mandy were surprised and humbled to discover that Tanner, too, has red hair, just as like his big brother Chase.  It seems that through Tanner’s red hair, God has reminded Brett and Mandy of his continued presence and blessing even after unspeakable loss.

During Heather’s pregnancy with Micah, she had no less than three separate ultrasounds. Based upon at least two separate ultrasounds, we were told that our little Micah would be a girl.  As a result, Micah was known as “Haley” in those months immediately preceding “her” birth.  Heather had a number of “pink” baby showers, and as of the moment of “Haley’s” birth, our home was filled with a lot of pink clothes and baby items.  In God’s unsearchable humor and wisdom, the ultrasound machines (or technicians) were wrong, and “Haley” turned out to be a boy. Through Micah’s birth, death, and two more boys, we’ve held on to all those pink clothes.  Now, with the expected birth of our baby #4 just weeks away, Heather and I have remarked at God’s sense of humor.  How we’ve come full circle with those pink clothes.  In God’s plan, a plan that is certainly his, not ours, those pink clothes will be used. 

As we have endured the grieving process together, we have tried to look for some of God’s blessings to us in and through our grief.  Since we believe there are no such things as “chance” occurrences, we can attempt to discern meaning in the “small things” of life.  God is sovereign over all things, whether wars and famines, nations and calamities--even the gender of our children, their hair colors, and faulty ultrasound machines.  I think that God sometimes uses these seemingly “small” circumstances in life to provide us with a sense of irony (perhaps humor?) and to remind us of who really is in control.  For that, let’s praise Him all the more.