Heart Surgery

Most of you who read this blog know me or you know someone else that does.  You are most likely aware, then, that this is a significant week in the life of me and my family.  I am referring, of course, to the diagnosis a few days ago that I have serious artery damage.  The response of the cardiology people that are now a part of my life will be triple bypass surgery next Tuesday, March 20.

     It is not my intent to use this blog space to keep people current on my condition and the success of my surgery and recovery, but you will be able to get such updates on my facebook wall.  Please feel free to find and "friend" me there, and to keep informed of my health status.

     I realize that I am only a couple of days away from a scenario that does not sound pleasant, but I have to tell you that I am not afraid.  I suppose that by Monday I might feel apprehensive--okay, I might even be a little bit scared--but I can say with total honesty that my fear is more about the pain of someone "sawing" into my chest than it is about someone not doing a good job on the bypass surgery and killing me. I know that it seems logical to worry more about the one part of the surgery that could kill me (that heart thing) than I should about the one part that will simply cause me pain (that cutting into my chest deal), but I don't.  And I have a good reason.
     Medical science has come a long way in the past couple of decades.  When it comes to dealing with the heart, the advances are mind-boggling.  Whereas bypass surgery was a risky proposition in the past, today it has become a remarkably safe procedure.  Most of the time artery repair is done successfully and most of the time people live through the procedure.  The people who work in the cardiology field are extremely knowledgeable and extensively trained.  Fixing hearts is what they do and they do it well on a regular basis.  And because they know hearts and repair hearts, and because they do it with such consistency, I am able to have a sense of peace about putting my life in their hands.  I know who they are and I know what to expect from them.  That is enough for me.
     God fixes hearts, too.  That is what he does: he takes something that has been damaged through misuse and neglect and laziness, and he operates on it so that the patient will have continued and improved life.  I don't doubt that physical surgeons are able to lovingly care for me, so why should I doubt that the true heart physician will and can do the same with my spiritual sickness?
     But for some reason, we tend to doubt God's ability to fix what is broken while not thinking twice about putting our confidence in men. 
     I assure you that on Tuesday morning, when preparations are being made for my procedure, I am not going to ask to remain awake so that I can supervise the surgeon.  It is ridiculous to even suggest such a thing.  I will not give advice on the procedure and I will certainly not try to put my hands anywhere into the mix.  I want nothing to do with anesthesia, incisions, or artery removal and relocation, because I know nothing about those things--and interestingly enough, if I try to help the doctors fix me...I am going to die.  Why then, do I want to help God fix my spiritual heart?  Don't I understand that dabbling with functions I know nothing about will not help me?
     I know that many people think I am saying that we should not do anything, but I am not saying that at all, because once the doctor has fixed my arteries, I have every intention of living more confidently than ever before.  I am going to feel better, I am going to be happier, and I am going to be wiser.  I plan to live better for me, for my family, and for every person that I meet each day--but I won't be able to do that until my heart gets fixed. 
     So, I resolve to let God do the spiritual heart surgery.  I resolve to quit trying to help Him do it.  And I resolve to use the spiritual health that He gives me to live more confidently, more happily, and more usefully. 
     What God fixes is truly fixed.
     When God saves lives, their is real life.

Putting Our Name (and everything else) on the Line

I have not been writing blogs for very long, but I have been translating my thoughts into written words ever since I was a child.  The tools at my disposal have ranged from napkins to computers; my style has fluctuated from serious to silly; and my punctuation and grammar have been good, bad, ugly, and everything in between.  Through all of the variations, however, there has remained one consistency: my writing always reveals my heart.  I write about things I enjoy, things I believe, and things that I consider important.  And whenever I do this, I am putting myself on the line.  My work will be applauded or rejected.  Since I am sharing myself in my writing, it is difficult to not take the response personally.  When you reject my work, I feel rejected; when you like my work, I feel approval.
     Some people might call me oversensitive, but my thoughts are very natural: while most humans don't pour their heart out with ink on paper, they still have a place--an arena--where their very essence is laid bare.  And when a person exposes the core of their being for public scrutiny, the nature of the response will be important to them.
     I want to be liked, accepted, and considered important; and because I try so hard to put my heart in all of my writing, one of the most important gages I use to "feel the love" of others is the gage that reads their response to the things that I write.
     When I first began writing this blog a few months ago, I had no idea what to expect.  All that I knew for sure was that I was going to put my thoughts into the vast void of the internet and hope that someone could find them.  But one day a funny thing happened: I had a member--a follower!  And it wasn't even someone in my own family!
     My response to this revelation was not profound or unexpected: it made me feel good.  Knowing that someone liked my writing meant (at least to me) that that someone liked me.  Was I reading into it?  Sure, at least a little, but it is not an entirely disconnected idea that people like other people based upon who they are on the inside and writing a blog does show something of the person that I am on the inside.  And the icing on the cake of the deal, the thing that really upped the ante, was the realization that someone was willing to openly associate and put their name alongside mine.
     I do not even know that person, but I assure you that he has become important to me.

     There are two things that really struck me in this picture.  The first is that God has poured His very heart into creation.  Just as I do when I write, he has put Himself "out there" to be approved or rejected.  He loves us enough to risk that.
     The second thing has to do with God's thoughts.  I cannot help but believe that when He shows himself to us and we respond by saying, "I am willing to put my name with His," and to proclaim that "I am a follower of Jesus Christ," that we become special to Him in a very unique way. 
     Not everyone has the courage to put their name with God's and no one does it all of the time; but I am confident that when we do, the picture God has of us on His wall becomes a little more special

Someone Else's Foot in the Door

Ephesians 2:18  "For through him we both have access by one Spirit unto the Father."

I recently watched a television program in which an ambitious teenage boy determined to impress an older businessman.  The youngster was certain that once his abilities and enthusiasm had been put on display, the natural response would be for the successful entrepreneur to find a place where those talents could be fully utilized (and rewarded).  It turned out, however, that the boy never had the opportunity to "show his stuff" because he could not procure even a brief hearing with the businessman. 
     As luck would have it, a dejected youth being "excused" from the reception area of the business which he had hoped to become a part of, crossed paths with a female acquaintance from his high school in the outside hallway.  Two important things were revealed in a conversation that changed the young man's fortunes.  The first was that the young lady had a bit of a crush on the boy, and the second was that her father ran the company that the boy was currently leaving.
     So, the boy ended up back inside the building, and he immediately bypassed the secretary who had sent him away.  Then he sat in a chair next to his school friend while she talked about his positive qualities.  She saw great potential in the young man, and as she continued to sing his praises, her father listened attentively.  Soon, the realization became clear: if the young man was so important to his daughter, he was also important to the father.  So, he became a part of the team.
     This story is the kind of story that all of us have believed to be true throughout our lives.  When we had a crush on a school girl, we talked to their best friend; when we were looking for a job, we cited references that the boss would respect; and when we needed admission to a certain college, we lobbied a celebrated alum.  The value of someone important sticking their foot in a door that we want to walk through has never escaped our notice.
     This is entirely consistent with what I believe in my Christian faith.  It is perhaps the thing that makes the most sense about Jesus coming to earth in my mind.  It is the idea of God's only begotten son coming down and hanging out with me at school, and it is also the idea of him liking what he sees in me.  And it culminates in the idea of Jesus taking me into his Father's office (an office I couldn't get into on my own) and blowing my horn for me.  The Father sits in his big chair and sees the value that I have to his son, and because of that, he also applies value to me.
     No matter what your religious beliefs are, I know that we all would like to talk to God directly.  I believe that God also wants to have that kind of a relationship with us.  The problem, however, is that we really don't have a very good idea of how to do it.  But if we have a savior who is the Son of God, and who walked with us in our shoes, and who puts his foot through the door to give us instant access to the Father, and then sits there with us and talks about how valuable we are to him...then talking to God suddenly ceases to be terrifying and confusing; and because of what Jesus did, it becomes delightful.
     I like the idea of not having to be the first through any door that has a powerful being on the other side; and I like the idea of not having to ever sit alone in that powerful being's presence while trying to make myself appear valuable.  The truth is, I never have to.  Jesus did it for me.  Now, when I go into the presence of a holy, mighty God, I go there confident that I am valuable to Him because I am valuable to His son.

Judge not, lest ye be judged

Matthew 7:1-2   "Judge not, that ye be not judged, for with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged; and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again."

My wife and I attend many sporting events involving local teams.  We began following our children in their recreational leagues many years ago and continued to support programs in the local schools as they grew up.  With the exception of one daughter's boyfriend who we cheer for on his college soccer team, we no longer have ties to the competitors in the games we attend.  But we still attend.  Connie and I have found that watching young people involved in athletic activity has been enjoyable and of nominal cost.

     Over the years we have observed that there are two things which can be found at every sporting competition regardless of the age or skill-level of the participants; those two things are losing teams (and their fans) believing that all of the calls went against them, and winning teams (and their fans) verbally teasing the opponents.  Sometimes the latter are funny comments and sometimes they are mean; rarely, however, are they intended to do anything more than make sport of someone else's misfortune. 

     A couple of weeks ago, Connie and I were at a college basketball game that was going very well for the locals in the first half.  Just before the buzzer went off and the teams headed  into the locker room, the score was 36-8 in favor of our home boys.  With no other reason than to ridicule a poor performance, the student section of our college began to chant in loud unison, "single digits" over and over again.  I didn't think much about it because that is what student sections do until a more civil fan just behind me made a comment: she said, "they should be saying single digit."  And she was right.  College students mocking other college kids really ought to know that eight is only one number standing alone, and as only one number it should not be given the plural title, "digits."

     The situation made me think about Matthew 7 and the ever popular verse about not judging.  Now I know that most people are dishonest in how they use this verse, and when they are telling others that they should not judge...well, they are judging people for judging, and I always want to show them the many other verses that insist that we judge things as opposed to people in order to decide right from wrong...but still, there is something to be said about not judging.

     So, I considered the first several verses of Matthew 7 and here is my paraphrase, "Don't judge other people with a mean heart and selfish motives because then you will be judged the same way." 

     Then, I thought about the lady behind me and how her comment never would have been made if a whole slew of college students hadn't felt that it was perfectly fine to judge the performance of an opposing team.  She wouldn't have said a word, but their foolish judgment demanded it.  And she, the one with the second word, was right.  Those who spoke first, actually ended up looking silly.

     Okay, do not get me wrong.  College students have fun.  Fans have fun.  That isn't my point.  Let them continue to shout, "You!" and "Airball!" 

     And it isn't my point that we should never call things what they are, otherwise we blur the line between right and wrong.

     But it is my point that we ought to be really, really careful about the spirit and heart of our judgment.  And we ought to be very aware that everytime we engage in it, we put a spotlight on us that would not have been there before. 

     Maybe we should judge things (even sometimes calling them wrong) in a way that is loving and with the intent to build someone up, rather then in a manner of ridicule and with the purpose of destruction.  Whenever I judge, I know the difference.  I know what I am doing.  And I know that sometimes I should just stop doing what I am doing.  If I judge me first, maybe I won't have to worry about others judging me later.