Our happiness

Susan’s status is thankfully unchanged, if not slightly better as she’s doing well weaning off steroids. We’ll be back at UCLA next week for another MRI and clinic visit.

Given Susan’s brain cancer, a number of friends from church who died this year, and several more dear friends who are fighting for their lives against cancer and other disease, we approach Christmas with a deeper appreciation for what that manger held two thousand years ago.

But first, I’ll not call it a manger – that word brings to mind the safe image found in songs and sketches. It was a feed trough for livestock. Picture a crude wooden bin holding grain or hay, stained with the slobber of cows or donkeys or sheep. Maybe one of the animals had chewed away its edges. Maybe some hairs from a cow's neck were wedged in a splintered front board and drizzled with muddy spittle. You get the idea. As much as we love lighted nativity displays, the Creator of the universe slept in the type of feed trough found next to puddles of urine and piles of manure. In our day, “manger” sounds too clean.

The distance the Son of God traveled to become our Savior is important to grasp for people going through hard times. It shows that God enters impossibly into messy and hopeless places and will deliver us. Paul’s eloquence on the incarnation in Philippians 2:5-8 is astounding:

In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death — even death on a cross!

First Jesus made himself nothing. Then he humbled himself. He came down all the way then came down even more. Who is this God, anyway? How much must he love us that a member of the Trinity would leave the glory of heaven to enter our world? And what does it say about him that he avoided the splendor that should attend the arrival of the King of Kings, chose the most helpless form of human existence, and was  placed a feed trough in an obscure Judean town?

That feed trough contained more than a baby – it contained love. Somehow, it contained the very source of love. The fact that God is all-powerful would be a terrible thing if he did not love us. We should fear his power and treasure his love. His power did for us what we could not do for ourselves in securing our salvation and eternal life, but his love made that power work on our behalf.

Love always has an object, a focus, what the lover can’t get out of his mind. For God, it’s us. Shall I summarize the Bible, the world’s best selling book of all time? The Bible is 1189 chapters contained in 66 books written by 40 men as they were inspired by God over a period of 1600 years. But we can pack over 773,000 words into just five: God is crazy about us. He’ll give us anything for our good because he loves us. His greatest gift to us was Jesus in that feed trough.

Love is costly. God’s love is unrestrained – he has paid dearly. Could we measure the cost of his creation, the cost of his disappointment at the fall of man, the cost of his incarnation, or the cost of his death and resurrection? It’s unimaginable. We can’t understand the extent of what God did for us, or why, but the heart of his plan was laid in that feed trough. Making himself nothing and then humbling himself means the One who spoke the world into existence would actually reduce his language for a time to coos and cries. The depth of God’s love for us means it’s okay with him if we don’t understand or appreciate its cost.

Love brings life. People who are loved become energized, brightened, and confident. Infants deprived of love become poorly developed. With love we live; without love, we die. Life came into the world and was placed in that feed trough, a new life born to Mary and Joseph, and eternal life for us through Jesus’ work on the cross. This life, this love, inspired the hymn writer to pen “Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow, blessings all mine with ten thousand beside” (Great is Thy Faithfulness). This life and love are why we and others enduring hard times appreciate the meaning of Christmas.

It sounds weird to say, but these hardest days of our lives have also been our happiest. With Susan’s breast and brain cancers, we’ve experienced loss and turmoil – the stuff that comes with major crisis and upheaval. But we’re loved, and we’re learning good things about the God who loves us. Instead of despair, we’ve received joy, hope and peace. We have life with each other now and eternal life with God in heaven later. It’s such a gift. It’s all because of what was in that feed trough. Merry Christmas!

More breathing room?

The past several weeks have provided more breathing room for Susan and me as we enjoyed an unforgettable 25th anniversary stay in Laguna Beach, more time without complications, and even a trip for her to Mammoth this week with family.  Our brief stay in Laguna offered pristine springtime weather, hours spent on the hotel balcony entranced by the seaside panorama, and a chance for Susan to have her feet in the sand again.  Our 9th floor room brought us eye-to-eye with seagulls and was a perfect perch to watch pods of dolphins, surfers, beach walkers, crashing waves, and even a couple of migrating gray whales.  An epic weekend would not be complete without a Jacuzzi bath for Susan (years since the last one) that rejuvenated her. 

The weeks since then found us resuming Susan’s blood draws leading up to next week’s UCLA oncology visit, gathering with some of my friends from high school, celebrating Good Friday and Easter with our church and our family, and getting Susan, Lexie and Adam away to Mammoth with the Rombergs.  Austin spent Easter vacation working on a mission trip to an American Indian community in Arizona.  Although the road trip was a bit taxing, Susan did well in Mammoth and had a pretty smooth week.  Lexie made me proud by taking great care of her mom and working hard to make sure she stayed safe.  I put in some longer hours and was able to focus on my work more than usual, although I missed everyone, Susan especially.  Even so, I can attest to the value of respite for the caregiver.  My time with her following our break finds me more relaxed and patient, armed with a deeper well of compassion and a better perspective than I had a week ago.  

But Susan hasn’t been doing well this weekend.  She’s tired, confused, and generally out of it.  She’s had several spells of nausea or vomiting at mealtime, so I’m on the alert for more signs of trouble.  She’s been headachy but has no fever.  After a couple of long naps yesterday, she seemed a bit better last night – yet the nausea returned this morning as we prepared for church.  I’m keeping her home to rest and will continue to watch her closely in case there’s more going on than just the effect of traveling and altitude.

Our Silver Anniversary naturally leads us to reflect on our lives as a couple and celebrate the gift of spending most of our years on earth with each other.  It’s a unique experience.  Spending a lifetime as husband and wife is different than being with a friend, companion, parent, or sibling.  Why?  Each of these relationships has a certain level of familiarity, compatibility, trust, and common interest that creates a bond deeper than a casual acquaintance.  But marriage goes deeper still, involving a level of physical, emotional, and spiritual intimacy unlike any other relationship.  In the most significant way, it satisfies our human desire to know and be known.  This is what God had in mind for us and is what Jesus spoke of in Mark 10:7-8, “’For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh.'  So they are no longer two, but one.”  This is the gift Susan and I have enjoyed so far for 25 years.

I’ve said before that Susan is probably the most gracious patient on the planet.  She has needs but does not make demands.  She hates the thought of being a burden and apologizes when she feels she imposes on others – which is frequently.  Her attitude compels her to try to do as much as she’s capable of doing and just makes it easy to care for her.  Her positive outlook prevails.  She’s confident today is better than yesterday, tomorrow will be better still, and God will fix what’s wrong either while she’s alive on Earth or when she’s with him in Heaven.  

Yesterday when I told her I love her like crazy, she said she’s not sure why since she’s not able to do anything.  She said she can’t love me very well.  I assured her our love is not about doing, and that she loves me perfectly.  I know and feel her care for me in whatever way she expresses it.  But more than that, just her being with me becomes our unity and is itself the expression of our love.

Great comfort at Christmas

One amazing thing about traveling the road of hardship is how frequently you find hidden treasures on familiar ground. Susan's brain tumor journey is hard. It truly is a matter of life and death with its ultimate outcome waiting in one of two places – healing (and Heaven later) or Heaven directly. Since we are confident in the goodness of God, we're also confident in the goodness of the outcome he has in store for us, which ever it may be. But in the meantime of uncertainty, there's work to be done, discomfort to push through, fear to cast out, and doubt to dispel, all in the context of Susan fighting brain cancer as her loved ones do what we can to help. The journey yields rewards in faith and character that will have lasting effect. But still, it's hard. Our hope for a better day in the future is what sustains us.
Just when we need the inspiration, it's just like God to provide an example for us in the Christmas story I've heard hundreds of times. One major theme is the humble nature of Jesus' birth – poor, quiet, and isolated, so out of place for the King of Kings. But defying expectations was normal for Jesus. He fulfilled Messianic prophecies to the letter but was not the political ruler most people expected. Focusing on doing the will of his Father, he bucked a religious establishment steeped in legalism. Embodying the authority of the Creator, he challenged the government who feared his power and envied his allure. Ultimately, these religious and political leaders converged to bring charges that resulted in Jesus' execution on a cross. So the life of Jesus that confounded most observers came to a perplexing end. But far from a failure, his 33 years on earth were just the first phase of a divine plan implemented at God's great expense. Jesus succeeded in revealing God's heart to us and offering salvation by his death as atonement for our sin. Even the greatest skeptic cannot ignore the impact Jesus has had on human history, affirming it with every check written this month – December, 2009 AD.
The treasure I found on familiar ground this Christmas? I realized God himself has done just what we're doing – enduring the hardships of this broken world and delaying gratification until a better day arrives. Right now we live between the advents, after Jesus' first coming and before his second coming. But his second coming will not be humble like the first. Next time it will fit the King of Kings and will be a game-changer, as overwhelming in power and majesty as his first entry came in mystery and obscurity. If his first episode with us in bodily form was costly, sacrificial groundwork, his next will be triumphant dominion. Isaiah 45:23 and Romans 14:11 say it well: "Every knee will bow." Along with the fullness of his kingdom, Jesus will receive the reward he's been waiting to collect – the people he came to save. I don't know what's more amazing, that he's so crazy about us he would go to such lengths to give us eternal life, or that he's so patient he'll work his plan for thousands of years to get the greatest harvest. Either way, God redefines the term "delayed gratification." His patience provides an astounding contrast at Christmas when time seems compressed, buying and consuming become frenetic, and we reduce ourselves to the instant pleasures of getting, having, tasting and doing.
Back to the brain tumor journey – we're still on it. There's no fast forward. We live each day with the weight of a hard situation. So do other cancer patients, farmers with drought-laden fields, the unemployed, the dream-deferred, and so on. This is the stuff of life. But God knows all about it because he's walked in our shoes. He draws close with true empathy and whispers a promise, laced with comfort: "Everything's going to be okay. You can do it. I will help you. Just a while longer..." He knows what it's like to wait.

Hanging tough in brain tumor world

Susan's condition has remained stable over recent weeks with some improvement in strength. Although she needs full-time care and assistance to walk and accomplish daily activities, she can more easily lift herself from an elevated chair and handle small stair steps. We're so grateful to enjoy another period without complications, infections or hospitalization. More importantly, I'm amazed at Susan's attitude and outlook, and her tenacious inner strength. She's gracious when needing help, positive that she's doing better today than yesterday, and usually ready to kid around and be sassy. On Sunday as we were leaving between church services, our friend Randy drove up the crowded aisle and asked if he could have our parking space. I shut her door and I joked it would cost him five dollars. I got in the car and told Susan about it. She said, "That's good. You gotta get 'em when you can."

Every Christmas I look forward to when I once again realize the magnitude of God's gift to us in the birth of Jesus. Sometimes it's in a scripture, or in a song; in prayer or in hearing a sermon, or in a God-breathed human encounter. I'm still soaking up this year's moment. Todd VanEk had a word in his sermon Sunday on Luke 2:12 where the angel says to the shepherds, "This will be a sign to you: you will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger." Everything about this announcement shattered people's expectations about the coming of the King of Kings. The news was given to shepherds, who were poor and marginalized. The King was a baby – weak and dependent, clothed in rags, and lying in a feeding trough for livestock. The urine and manure may have been at a safe distance, but the smell wasn't. Then Todd brought the zinger. Jesus was born into a mess. The "sign to you?" There is no human mess Jesus is not willing to enter, bringing healing, strength, grace, and mercy. Wow. That was it. That's the room in my heart I could prepare for Jesus this Christmas, and he came right in.

I was not prepared for the living example of Jesus' love that would follow just minutes later, after church. The woman sitting in front of us with an infant turned out to be our friend Patti. I did not know she and her husband were expecting. We learned they stepped in as parents of their relative's baby boy after he suffered abuse and broken bones in only the first six weeks of his life. He's nine weeks old now. They've had him for three, and are willing to adopt him if the legal arrangements can be made. For now, these 30-something Christian parents are adjusting their lives, their family, and their careers to make room for another baby boy born into a mess. This is selfless love – astonishing and familiar. It's a fitting display of God's Kingdom that arrived on Earth with baby Jesus in Bethlehem. As we prayed with tears, I could see the Spirit of our Savior bringing healing, strength, grace, and mercy to this baby and to this family – just like Jesus has always done. I'm so glad to have met him again.