Recent Things

I really thought I would be blogging more. A lot has been happening, life (as it turns out) is surprisingly busy.

As a short recap: my mom couldn't afford to stay in the house she and my dad lived in (for the last 4 years), so she found a house in the area that she and my dad had looked at years ago. It is a house built in 1911- kept in good shape until a couple years ago. There were some squatters in the house that trashed much of it. So my mom could afford to buy the house, but it needs a lot of little renovations. But it will be a good place for her. I've been spending my weekends there for the last couple of months to help her move.

I'm also preparing to move myself. I've been living in what we call the "Burke House" for almost 3 years now- when I moved in, I thought I would only be there for a month or two. Over time, I came to appreciate the community of the house and the beauty of the property, but it is time to move out. I've had a lot of really great housemates, one of whom is moving with me. We're currently looking for a good house for 2-4 guys and 1-2 more guys to share it with us. The landlord has plans for the house once we're out, so we are in a hurry.

So the church I work at has a brilliant Christian psychologist who volunteers his time to talk to our staff one on one. My "supervisor" asked me to talk to him. I assumed it was because of the perceived increase in stress I was going through. I was a little anxious about the idea, to be honest. I felt like I should be insulted by the idea- that I would need to talk to a psychologist? What- am I crazy? But just about everyone on staff talks to him from time to time. So I went and talked to him a couple days ago.

I found myself very nervous. I've openly talked about everything going on in my life with a lot of people, both very close friends and peripheral acquaintances- but was somehow nervous about talking to a psychologist. But the time came and I sat down with him. He had a calming demeanor but an intense look to his eyes. But I told him what has been going on in my life- my mom moving because my dad died in February, moving out of the house and saying goodbye to friends, extra stress with the busyness of work... I told him that I had been asked to come talk to him. For some reason, I was surprised when he asked about my dad, and my relationship with him. I remember thinking "So THIS is what we're going to talk about..." So I told him about my dad, about how much I love him and miss him, how great of a man he was and what a great mentor he was for me. Just like that, I found myself talking. I talked and cried for about 45 minutes, with the psychologist pointing out parts of the grieving process now and then, and making small suggestions.

It was amazing how it seemed like he understood me- knew what was going on for me right now- this feeling of loss that I'm still dealing with (He says I will always deal with it), and how it impacts every part of my life. He said I will be tired more (check), my muscles will ache more (check), I'll stub my toes more (strangely... check), I'll lose my cool over something I don't really care about (check)... It was amazing. I have talked to a lot of friends about this, but hadn't heard anyone really understand and know like he did. He was very encouraging of the way we've all talked and cried together as a family, and told me to keep doing that. I left feeling strangely refreshed.

So the big take away for me was to see that all areas of my life- my frustrations with other problems, in particular, are related to my loss.

Life is going on. The whole family is doing pretty well- though we're all pretty tired, I think. We've been able to spend weekends together working on my mom's move, but it isn't very restful (or fun, haha...) But we'll soon be done and get some rest.

God is good.

Deep Friendships

Some old art major buddies of mine were getting together over the weekend, and it looked like I might not be able to make it. After some consideration, I decided to make it happen. I've had a lot of heavy stuff on my mind lately, and a spur of the moment trip to visit old friends did a lot of good. In fact a couple of weeks ago, I got a visit from my old friend Casey Butler, which also helped me.

So lately, I've been reminded of the importance of having deep friendships. I have a lot of what I'd call "peripheral friends" - people who I consider friends, but rarely share the deep concerns of my life with. Unfortunately, however, I feel that I don't have a lot of friends right now who I can share my deeper emotions and thoughts with. In the last 2.5 years, I've had several very close friends sort of move out of the area (and thus out of my life, in some ways). It is not impossible to keep up those distanced friendships, but certainly difficult.

So it was good to meet up with people I have history with, and with whom I share interests and passions. I've dealt with my dad's passing through introversion- I've spent a lot of time alone (I wanted it that way- don't freak out, extroverts), but it was great to get back into relationships and community with old friends.

It was another step toward "getting back to normal" for me. And it woke up a little more of my creativity and taste for adventure. God is good.

So there's an insanely big rainstorm outside and all I want to do is go run around in it!

Spring and Life

I spent the weekend with my family. It continues to be huge for healing and moving on, little at a time.

I took yesterday off so I could help my mom clean out my dad's office at the church. It was rough at times, and we both shed a few tears while putting away his books and misc. desk stuff. However the hardest and most emotional part was closing the door of the office and leaving. The act of doing so just had this heavy feeling of finality. We both cried hard as we got ready to leave, but with time we're healing. Going through his books (some he helped write/edit), I was reminded by what a brilliant guy my dad was. We also came across more personal things- a mother's day card for my mom (he never wrote in or gave her), among other things- that revealed his loving side. I sure miss him.

My sweet 9 month old nephew had a health scare a few days ago. Doctors thought his spleen was enlarged, which could mean several very scary things, cancer being one of them. I'm usually very laid back and worry free. But with the pain of the recent loss of my dad still close in my mind, I was far more concerned than I normally would have been. This is not to say I was panicking- I was still praying and trusting God. But it just reminds me- life is so precious. Why would we waste moments watching worthless tv? Or arguing over worthless things? Well my nephew ended up being fine- his spleen is just a little more "protruding" than the average spleen, I guess. So he's fine. Praise God.

With the weather starting to warm up, I'm getting excited about the possibility of new adventures (which, frankly, is what this blog is SUPPOSED to be about!). This spring/summer, I'm hoping to do lots of camping, treasure hunting, hiking and such. Though I imagine I won't feel quite like myself for some time still, my heart is beginning to feel a change in the winds. The hope of Christ, I'm reminded, is that life goes on and death is only a temporary separation. Joy is making its way back into my life (and that of my family) in spurts. I feel compelled to also say this: Without knowledge of the redemptive death and resurrection of Christ, I don't know how I'd deal with this. God is so so so good.

6 Weeks

It was six weeks on friday night since my dad passed away.

It is strange how you can hear people talk about this sort of experience and think you understand, but really not get it until you're there. The feelings are so hard to put into words. The small things are what have hit hardest recently. I think of things I'd like to tell my dad about- a star trek themed bath robe or how I fixed my car. And for brief moments I have to remember that he's gone. There's this sorrow for feeling the loss all over again and a feeling much like shame (but not quite shame) for having forgotten in that moment that he isn't here. Sometimes I just wish I could talk to him.

I'm fortunate to work for people who are so understanding. Understanding, in fact, to the point that I've been allowed to spend wednesday night through Sundays at my mom's house for a while. So I got to spend time with my mom (and the rest of the family) this weekend and that was really great. I'm finding more and more how that rejuvenates me. My brother's kids are therapeutic in times like these. Reminding us of life and joy. His 3rd child is about 9 months now, and he's such a sweetheart. He is just starting to put words together. He's getting a handle on "Hi" right now, and does "mamamama"s and "dadadada"s as well. Being around them reminds me of God's goodness. I'm hoping an "uncle Nate" finds its way in there soon. : )

But back in Troy, my life begins to feel a little normal again. I have started wanting to hang out with friends and get into a workout routine. I'm also looking forward to spending some time outside soon. My head is still not all here, but God is good and I'm starting to adjust.

How to move on

It's been about 5 weeks now since my dad passed. It has been a difficult process adjusting already, but I know the process is far from over. I had a dream last night in which my dad was still here, it was hard waking up to remember the truth. Hopefully that won't be a recurring theme.

 "Everyone grieves differently" I'm told, and I know a lot of people turn to creative pursuits in this process. My heart hasn't much been in that yet, but it is coming back little by little. I've actually found myself seeking distraction more than anything. Movies have really appealed to me lately, as well as some tv shows on Netflix. The night before my dad died, I hit a deer with Babe, my blue 95 Jeep Cherokee. I had called him that night and talked with him a little about how I'd need his help with repairs, and how he didn't think the repairs would be too bad. That was our last conversation. Just another reminder about how much he meant to me and how much I relied on him... Anyway, I hadn't planned on doing the work without his help, but now I'm anxious to get it all done. Right now it is my distraction. I've always wanted to be like my dad in that way (and many ways)- to be able to fix cars by myself. In some strange way it seems like a memorial for him.

 I've been driving his old jeep while mine is under the weather. It is surreal to be driving it. His receipts and tools are everywhere, a constant reminder of how suddenly he was gone from here. I drove this jeep when I was in high school, and intermittently through college (and even since...) when I had trouble with my own car. Anyway, my dad's old Jeep is not what it once was, and I hate to be putting all of these miles on it, so for that reason I don't think I'll be visiting the family this weekend. I want to get my jeep fixed (if I can) before I head back. I went to the junkyard and got all of the parts I need yesterday. I saved a ton of money and actually had some fun. Dad would have loved it.

 I really miss my family lately. It is strange how alone you can feel even when surrounded by close friends who care. My friends have been great- but I miss my family. I miss "home". But God is good. The one thing that I'm overwhelmed by more than sadness is how great a man my dad was and how thankful I am to have had him as my dad.

Joy and Mourning

Well, not surprisingly, it has been a very long time. I can hardly believe it's been almost a year. In truth, not a lot had changed in my life until 1:30am on February 9 (just over a month ago), when my Dad died unexpectedly of an infection in his lungs (at 58). Just as a fair warning- this one is going to be emotional.

I discover more every day just how profound his impact in my life has been. I wish I could put it into words. In fact, I've done a lot of talking and writing about him in the last month. My siblings (Josh, Rach and sis-in-law Christine) stood up at his funeral and shared some words for him. I spoke for us all when I read this (which I also wrote):

I’m speaking for my brother, sister and sister-in-law here- so, though I may ball like a baby through this, apparently I’m the most eloquent. It has been tough to find words to describe our dad. Not because I don’t know what to say, but because I don’t know what to leave out, I know you guys probably have things to do and I could go on for days. He was in ministry for all of my life- between his years in christian editing, publishing and writing with Group Publishing and Zondervan and his time as a pastor at Sturgis Missionary Church, he devoted his life to the service of God. With his work and his life, he reflected the light of Jesus. I cannot express how proud I am of my dad. It was his work in ministry that inspired me to do work with the church. I’ve said a lot to people recently about how great a man of God he was, but it should also be said that my dad was a great father, grandfather, brother and husband. We remember him as the man who took us fishing, helped us with our homework, worked on our cars, took us on boat rides, made home videos of our family, got up early on Saturdays to make pancakes, cut down our Christmas tree, and loved spending time with his grandkids. He also loved fishing, nascar, and star trek. My dad taught us what it means to be a man- to be strong and hard-working, but also to be patient, compassionate and humble. His relationship with our mother taught us how marriage and love works. He also taught us how to say “sorry”. He taught us that it is okay to cry. On several occasions in the last couple of years, I have said or done something, then realized “Oh no, I’m becoming my father”. But, though it was usually said in jest, I’ve realized something now. At the end of my life I would love to have lived much like my father. If we were only allowed to have this many years with my dad, I'm just so glad that they've been so very good. It is with great sorrow in our hearts that we all say goodbye to my dad, though he would want us to celebrate for him. We know his joy is complete in the Lord. How very blessed we have been to know and be loved by him.

I feel like I can't say enough about my dad. I'm reminded of Hebrews 12:1-3: [12 Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, 2 fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. 3 Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.] I've gone back and forth on whether or not to post this, but the following is a "journal entry" that I typed up just after my dad's death:

Today is my 28th birthday. My dad died 6 days ago. In the mess of memorial services and shared tears, I all but forgot my birthday was coming up. Aside from breakfast with a few friends, we didn’t really make a big deal of it. My family all shared that they thought we should maybe do something but it didn’t really feel right to me. It felt wrong to think of myself. But a few hours ago, my brother and his wife handed me a birthday card from last year. We’ve had a sort of running joke about how I leave cards behind from birthday celebrations. In fact, as a joke, they once gave me the same birthday card 3 years in a row- because I’d left it behind when I left to go back home. This card my brother and sister in law brought me was from my parents- but the handwriting was my dad’s, not my mom’s. It was my birthday card from one year ago. My dad had picked it out and written in it himself. My brother and sister in law had saved it for a year to use as a joke for this birthday, but of course now, it was different. It is one of those emotional cards. The first line was “No one can count on the future”. I was crying immediately. The poetry on the front of the card is touching and tear jerking, but my dad’s own handwriting on the inside is what really hit me. “We are so proud of the man you’ve grown to be!” It was an amazing reminder for me. It really felt like my dad had just written this card. I really miss him. I wish I had appreciated him more when he was here. And I’ve realized something- my dad gave me one last birthday gift: perspective. Over the last few days, I’ve heard testimony from dozens of people who had been impacted by my dad. I’ve been overwhelmed with the love that so many have for my dad, and the way that he influenced them. There are 3 examples in particular that I’d like to point out that have shaped this more focused perspective for me. The first example is that of the hotel staff. My parents had been living in a hotel for 3 months because of a minor fire at their house that left many repairs to be made. In those 3 months, my mom and dad had made a serious impact on the staff there. My mom held an open house in my parents’ suite, as a sort of Christmas party for the hotel staff. Many of the staff came by and enjoyed cookies and snacks as well as Christmas music and conversation. My mom is a real entertainer. My parents were well known to all of the staff and knew many of them on a first-name basis. The staff made cookies at certain times each day, and if there was a big crowd around, they would withhold the cookies secretly, then deliver some to my dad- they even knew his favorite kinds. I’m not sure what all my parents did to deserve the love and admiration of this staff, but many of them came to my dad’s funeral- sharing in our love for my parents and sorrow in the loss of my dad. I was so touched and intrigued that in 3 months my parents had made such an impact on their lives. The second example is of a Dry Cleaner. My parents were scheduled to move back into their house the days after my dad passed. So there were a lot of details to be worked out, including getting the furniture back into the house, as well as clothing and drapery that needed to be dry-cleaned to remove the smoke smell. My sister called, asking for the dry cleaning to be returned. She explained the situation and the man on the phone was in tears after hearing of my dad’s death. He went out of his way to tell us what a great man he had seemed like. I was shocked to hear that they’d only met once. How could this man be so very impacted by the death of someone he met just once? The final example I want to share is of a Restaurant Owner. My parents had always appreciated a certain Mexican restaurant in their hometown, so as a family we had been there many times. And in the last 3 months of hotel living, they’d visited the restaurant often. The owner of the restaurant is a nice man who wanders the restaurant, checking in on his patrons, and greets you with a firm handshake and a warm smile. A few days after the funeral, our family went to the restaurant (our first time out together since my dad’s death). The restaurant owner, his wife and his daughter all greeted us at the door with tears in their eyes and tight hugs. The man offered very kind words of admiration for my dad, and really grieved with us. This was one of the most intensely powerful moments for me, I cried and cried. Again and again, he told us that he was such a great man, and that he would miss my dad a lot. Even now I struggle to type without shedding tears. So I mentioned the gift of perspective that I’ve found through my father’s death. Here it is: Every moment and every interaction is important. Our time on earth is limited and I don’t want to waste another moment or ignore another opportunity. I’ve never really paid much attention to hotel staff, dry cleaners or restaurant owners, but my dad did. Somehow, in these seemingly meaningless encounters, my dad made an impact in people’s lives. And I imagine they seemed small at the time, but I think we all play a certain part in the Story of God’s creation. Sometimes it is the small interactions that really impact people. I don’t know if the staff from that hotel know Jesus, but the death of a good man that they admired got them into a church for his funeral. My dad’s funeral was unlike any I have ever been to. He wanted a celebration, and left us specific songs that he wanted to be played. Dad didn’t want any sad and reflective songs; he wanted uplifting worship songs- he even wanted “Jesus Freak” (by DC Talk) to be “snuck in somewhere”. He also wanted to make sure that there was a salvation message- not a sort of fluffy “He was a good person, so we know he’s in a better place” message, but a message of truth. He was a Jesus Freak. One line of that song stands out “I don’t really care if they label me a Jesus freak, there ain’t no disguising the truth… what else can I say, Jesus is the way”. In my 29th year, I hope I can take advantage of this newfound perspective. I am so proud of my dad.

As I go through this bittersweet season of change, I am comforted by close friends, family, and memories of my dad. I'm also comforted because his death was not the end for him, but only the end this short terrestrial chapter. It is with a heavy heart that I say goodbye, and look forward to seeing my dad again one day, thanking the Lord for all he has done.

1 Cor. 9:19-22 19 Though I am free and belong to no one, I have made myself a slave to everyone, to win as many as possible. 20 To the Jews I became like a Jew, to win the Jews. To those under the law I became like one under the law (though I myself am not under the law), so as to win those under the law. 21 To those not having the law I became like one not having the law (though I am not free from God’s law but am under Christ’s law), so as to win those not having the law. 22 To the weak I became weak, to win the weak. I have become all things to all people so that by all possible means I might save some.