“But ask the animals, and they will teach you;
the birds of the air, and they will tell you;
8 ask the plants of the earth,[a] and they will teach you;
and the fish of the sea will declare to you.
9 Who among all these does not know
that the hand of the Lord has done this?
10 In his hand is the life of every living thing
and the breath of every human being.”

– Job 12:7-10

A LIFE REDEEMED

Denver Moore, one of the main characters in the movie “Same Kind of Different as me,” was born into poverty. During his childhood he had little and what he had was hard-won. Nothing came to Denver freely. The embers of goodness that reside in children never had a chance to flicker in him. It was replaced by a life of scarcity that required a fight for all he received, a constant pushing for sustenance, enhanced by his own physical strength. He never attended school. As a young adult he was homeless. As a young adult he was roped and dragged by the Ku Klux Klan for helping a white woman change a flat tire.

He found a rusted gun, with no cylinder, and tried to rob a bus. He left the bus after being unable to get the change out of the till. He was arrested and sentenced to twenty years in the notorious Angola Prison. Any ember of goodness in him dimmed even more. Knowing no other way, Denver had taken the wrong path at every crossroads of his life. A life where he never saw the majesty of God.

After twenty years he was released and put back on the streets. Sleeping on grates by a hotel or near a soup kitchen. He carried a large bat to help protect himself and claim his space.

Deborah Hall was struggling with her own life. The affluent wife of a successful art dealer, she was beset by anguish that she should be doing more and not just consuming life. Her husband was growing distant and unavailable. In a restless sleep she had a dream about a powerfully built man who could help her recover her purpose.

In her frustration she started helping at a center that served homeless people by raising money and serving food. Through a crisis in her marriage she was able to convince her husband, Ron, to also help. Reluctant at first, he soon stood beside her serving food.

A man would regularly come in and insist on getting not just one meal, but two. Any attempt to dissuade the man to only take one meal was met with anger, and the staff always relented to ensure calm. One day there was not calm, and the man used his bat to threaten people and damaged a significant artifact of the shelter.

Deborah recognized the man as the one from her dream. She asked her husband to go talk with him. Reluctantly Ron followed the man out of the shelter. The man went behind a building and Ron went after him. There Ron saw a great act of charity; the large, angry man gave one of his two meals to a homeless person confined to a wheelchair. Ron saw the ember of goodness in the homeless man flicker in an act of unselfishness. The man had not been selfishly asking for two meals for himself but wanted one for his friend. The man was Denver Moore. From that point, Ron slowly began to engage the man to build up trust. A trust that would develop into a wonderful fourteen-year revival of both their spirits.

Denver Moore became a member of the Hall family and was at Ron’s side at the country club, social events, and family gatherings. After a lifetime of denials, Denver was receiving.

Deborah died of cancer a few years later, but not before developing the center into a model of how to help. Denver was there to console his friend Ron and deliver the eulogy at Deborah’s funeral. In conjunction with Ron, he wrote the book that became the movie Same Kind of Different as Me.

Denver died in 2012. He left a wonderful legacy of giving in those fourteen years. He helped raise over seventy million dollars for the homeless. He helped his friend recover from the loss of his wife. His last years were about giving and not taking. His last years were spent taking a different path at the crossroads of life. His last years included the tide of his life coming in. Despite all that had happened to him, that small ember of goodness that for many years had been dormant roared into a flame.

Miracles do not always happen the way we want, leaving us frustrated and in a prolonged period of grief. Sometimes through our shortcomings and other times for no apparent reason. For some, like Denver Moore, life starts out bad and we do not get the chance to excel and have a life of bounty. For the parent who loses a child, no pain can be greater. We ask, “Why, God, did this have to happen?” For some it is losing a job despite their good work or getting denied a promotion even though they were the most qualified. When miracles do not happen, life is at its toughest.

When we find ourselves at a crossroads, do we blame God, or do we bear in to God? The answer to this question is extraordinarily personal. Denver took the wrong path too many times, because it was all he knew. Some must learn a hard lesson first. For others it is unexplainable.  The path to the answer is through our sovereign God, no matter how angry we are. Who else made the stars in the sky or allows the deer to glide elegantly in the woods? Our healing through faith lies within the decisions we make at the inevitable crossroads of life.

Blessings, until next time,
Bruce L. Hartman

 

 

Jesus said to them, “Very truly, I tell you, the Son can do nothing on his own, but only what he sees the Father doing; for whatever the Father does, the Son does likewise.

– John [5:19]

DOING WHAT WE SEE GOD IS DOING

I know a woman named Beth, who was homeless and fighting hard to regain her footing, so she could raise her child in a home like she saw other mothers do. She worked at a local Dunkin’ Donuts in a job that sometimes had her scraping gum off the bottom of the tables. Her boss was abusive and ranted at her throughout her shift. Each day she went back to her shelter with a little more money to get her freedom. On the Christmas Eve of her one-year journey in homelessness she left work and found a woman in the parking lot who was in need. It was a dark, rainy night, and the woman had not eaten in days and was rummaging in the trash bin behind the store. With what little she had earned in tips that day, Beth took the woman into Dunkin’ Donuts and bought her a meal. She sat with the woman and listened to her story. On that rainy Christmas Eve, she drove back to her shelter wondering if she had done enough for the woman.

Beth eventually got an apartment and left her job, to work at a better place. The next fall she was able to put her child on a school bus for her first day of school. She was able to go to a job where she was respected. She continued to wonder if she had done enough on that Christmas Eve.

Deciding what we ought to do seems complicated, but Jesus gives us a simple blueprint when he says, “but only what he sees the Father doing; for whatever the Father does, the Son does likewise.” Regardless of our natural circumstances, Jesus tells us to act in a manner that we envision how God would act. He asks us to act without fear of loss, but through our hearts. We should not overly ponder the event, but to let our knowledge of God through our heart tell us what we “ought” to do. We should walk on our path of faith, to explore the length and breadth of our inheritance. An inheritance that will heal and free us.

Blessings, until next time,
Bruce L. Hartman

 

 

John [16:13] – Live fearlessly guided by the Spirit.

WHEN YOU MOVE BEYOND YOUR FEAR, YOU FEEL FREE

When we listen to Jesus, perhaps he heals us supernaturally. Or perhaps his life lessons heal us. Both can be true. Sometimes the solution is simply asking ourselves, “What would Jesus do?” It may seem trite to say this is all we have to do. It is perhaps too simple. Perhaps It is an overused platitude. But this question is still immensely valid in reframing our lives and circumstances. “What would Jesus do?”

Part of the value of the Gospels is that they lay out for us the lessons of life that Jesus wants us to follow. When we are stuck in trying to solve a problem and our method of solving isn’t working, we have to change the method. Many times our solutions don’t happen because we habitually use the same method over and over again. If we want to be healed, we have to change our methods.

In the business book Who Moved My Cheese? there are four characters: two mice, Sniff and Scurry, and two humans, Hem and Haw. Each day the four went to a cheese pile and ate. Over time the pile dwindled and eventually disappeared. Hem and Haw, while noticing the pile was dwindling, did little to find more cheese. Sniff and Scurry set out and found a new cheese station. As time moved on and the cheese pile continued to dwindle, Hem and Haw became terrified, and resorted to anger, denial, and blaming to account for their situation. They debated and discussed their next moves, but couldn’t get themselves to move.

As hunger became a real issue, they eventually started looking for a new pile. The process was laborious and tedious. They debated endlessly their various options. Eventually, Hem found the new pile that Sniff and Scurry had told them about, called Cheese Station N. As their mindset began to change, Hem and Haw thought of questions like “What would you do if you weren’t afraid?” and ideas such as “When you move beyond your fear, you feel free.” Slowly, over time, they began to reframe their view of life and to recognize the need to constantly look at things differently. They became well by reframing their lives.

Blessings, until next time,
Bruce L. Hartman

Photo by Naveen Chandra on Unsplash

 

 

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”

— Matthew 5:4

THE PROMISE OF JESUS

Loss is a part of life, and sadly, the older we get, the more loss we must endure. Whether through the death of a loved one, the end of a relationship, or the loss of a job, the process of grieving and recovering is difficult and very personal. Psychologists have identified that mourning individuals experience grief in five stages: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. A person must pass through each stage in his or her own time on the road to recovery.

These five stages should not be avoided. They will occur, and no amount of resistance will prevent them. Resistance will only bury the feelings that will someday arise again. There is no prescribed timing on how long each phase lasts. There is no schedule of events. Only one thing helps, people who will listen. This is a race that we must run with no prescribed time limit.

But Jesus wants us to remember his promise that all who grieve will be comforted. Through both our physical and spiritual baptisms, we become part of this blessing. He walks beside us in our grief, and through his promise, he gives us reason to hope we will recover.

In addition to loss due to death, many of us also feel a profound sense of loss when faced with disability or severe illness. An elderly woman in the early stages of Alzheimer’s may grieve the loss of her fading memory, and her spouse may later mourn the loss of the woman he married, even when she’s still physically present.

Loss can have far-reaching repercussions. Individuals facing illness, disability, or even the loss of a job may also suffer from intense anxiety and fear about whether they will continue to be able to provide for themselves and their families. And many who have lost a spouse may likewise struggle with how to provide for their families and parent their grieving children while they mourn. No matter the type of loss, the experience is intensely painful, complicated, and difficult to navigate.

I have counseled many individuals who have lost a job, and as I guide them through their loss, I can see the process of grief at work. During the journey to recovery, individuals work through anxiety and fear as well as feelings of inadequacy and defeat. My assurances that there is a light at the end of the tunnel are no more than a temporary salve. Each person simply must work through the emotional process of mourning. It cannot be hurried or prescribed—it is a very personal process. During therapy, those in mourning will come upon roads they have to walk down in order to continue their journeys. They will make discoveries and connections that are important and sometimes very surprising.

As we engage with those who have endured loss or are dealing with the process of grief, it’s important to be empathetic. We should avoid offering platitudes, such as “It will be okay,” or “Just keep a stiff upper lip,” or “Have more faith,” as these can feel dismissive and may not be correct. Acknowledging and validating the feelings of those in mourning and allow them to share their thoughts and express their emotions. They are traveling difficult and unfamiliar roads, and their emotions will fluctuate often throughout each day and week. As they proceed through the five stages, we can become their biggest allies simply by loving them and listening to them. This journey can be incredibly difficult, and for those who are in this process, time grinds on slowly.

In Matthew 5:4, Jesus says that mourners will be comforted. The word “will” gives us hope for the future. Through our baptism, we belong to a faith that gives us the assurance that the valleys of life are temporary. While our losses will never be recovered, we never lose the love of God. The gift of God’s love doesn’t just occur because of our physical baptism; it occurs through our spiritual acceptance of God’s promises. The promise in Matthew 5:4 encourages us to keep our faith, even during the darkest moments in our lives. Jesus promises us we will be comforted.

Blessings, until next time,
Bruce L. Hartman