There is Evening and There is Morning- One Day

Years ago I remember seeing a preacher named E.V.Hill deliver a sermon entitled "I Have Been Through the Night". E.V. Hill is an African American preacher who was considered by some to be the best preacher of his time not just for what he said but how he said it. I still remember him saying at one point, "I have laid my hands on tumors and seen them shrivel up and disappear and I have laid my hands on my wife and watched as God took her to glory, I have been through the night." E.V. had seen some people get healed and yet the one he probably wanted healed more than any other was not and God took her to glory. I write that now because while I am grateful that God has been gracious to my family in allowing my dad to be with us a little longer, I also know there are plenty of you out there who have been through the night. When my little brother died I remember thinking that if God wants credit every time someone gets better he should be prepared to get the blame every time someone does not. Now 20 some years later I still don't know why God does what he does. Out of all the questions I can ask God, the why question is the one that burns and yet it is the why question that in the long run may not matter at all. Suppose God could explain in his divine calculus why it was better for my brother to die at 20 and for my father to live at 76. Even if I could understand it, I would still miss my brother the same and still be rejoicing in that my dad was going to celebrate another Christmas with us. I guess I am writing this to let you all know who are going through the night, that I still feel for you. I don't think there are easy answers and please don't think that God answers our prayers because we are clergy and not yours. I remember being mad at God for a while after my little brother died. I ended up really missing God. I also remember reading a psalm where the psalmist said, "Two things I know of you, two things have I heard. That you O God are strong and that you O Lord are loving." The psalmist spoke truth into my life in the midst of the night during the loss of my brother and he speaks the same truth into the joy of the morning now with my dad.

Hiccups

Three steps forward, two steps back. That is the way it is with much of life I think. There are times I think I have learned and then find out I haven't learned quite as much as I had thought. I am watching that now with my dad. Two days ago we had a great visit with him. It seemed like he would be back at home with us in no time. He was sitting up in a chair, his eyes and smile both bright. Today he was tired and had the hiccups. Hiccups don't sound bad but today they kept a tired man from sleeping and a hungry man from eating. He hasn't eaten but a couple of bites the last 2 days and has not been out of bed since Wednesday. So, dad may not be home and back to normal as soon as we thought a couple of days ago. I wonder how long it took Lazarus to start feeling like himself again. Thanks to everyone for your prayers for my dad. It looks like I will have opportunities to serve him in ways I have never before. That in itself is a gift.

The Richest Man in Town

I always cry at the end of "It's A Wonderful Life". I know a lot of people get choked up. But for me there is something deep down that begins to move as people shower George Bailey with their love and gifts. George had given his life away in little pieces throughout the movie. Each time someone was in need he sacrificed his own dreams to help them fulfill theirs. Near the end he thinks he is broke and instead the truth rings out clear as a bell that he is the richest man in town. I have grown up in the home of a minister. I have seen my mom and dad live the pattern of sacrifice. That is in part why they are now living in the inlaw suite in my house like "Everybody Loves Raymond" only instead of being across the street they are on the other side of my family room. But now we seem to be getting closer to the end of the movie and I get to see how rich my dad really is. We have been showered with love ever since the word got out that dad had gone down with a stroke. It has been like the feeding of the 5000 and I have been feeding the neighbors with the excess. E-mails have poured in along with countless calls. Jesus said, "If you save your life you will lose it but if you lose your life for my sake you will find it". That is what we have been experiencing here at the Coffey house. Frederick Buechner wrote,"All the death in the world when held next to life would scarcely fill a cup".

Dad keeps improving. The love of the family of God keeps pouring in. When my dad gets out of the hospital my brother and I will tell him all the stories of how many people loved him and we will raise a glass and toast, "Here's to Roland, our dad, the richest man in town". And then he will walk through the door from my house to his with a smile on his face knowing that every sacrifice was worth its weight in gold.

A Blessing a Minute

Dad continues to improve. Today he had the nose tube removed. I am guessing the doctors have a more sophisticated name for the nose tube. I think it would save the doctors a lot of time if they just called everything simple names to begin with but I think that about fancy restaurants too. Maybe it is all about pricing. If you are going to charge 500 dollars for something you should call it something other than a nose tube. It is interesting to me how much more my mind moves to humor since my dad has been given back to me. I realize I could get a call tonight to tell me that another stroke has taken him. I would still feel these last 2 days were a great gift. So, today when we went in he was sitting in a chair. The therapist had him up walking earlier. He is able to eat now instead of the tube. He still has his sense of humor and it comes through very much at the beginning of each visit. He gets tired very quickly and has learned to kick us out when he needs to sleep which is about 20 minutes after we arrive. His short term memory is an understatement. It is really short. Each visit right now is like our first. He is surprised, needs to hear what happened that put him in the hospital. I tell him how close he came to going to heaven. He laughs and says that wouldn't be so bad and alas it wouldn't have been bad for him...only for us. And that is the most wonderful thought of today.

A Beautiful Sight

I may have seen the most beautiful sight in my life this morning. I walked into my dad's hospital room and went to the side of his bed. I held his hand and called his name. I watched as his eye lids fluttered and then with great effort opened. My dad looked at me. I have had the remarkable experience of being told that my dad was dead and then seeing him alive again. There is something deeply biblical there don't you think? Dad is responding better than we had hoped. He is able to move arms and legs, grip with his hands, speak, understand us and our commands. He got his age wrong. He said he was 78 when he is really only 76. The funny thing is that my mom thought he was right so it may have more to do with Coffey math than the stroke. Thank you for your prayers. This is the update.

Between Two Worlds

I have said a few times that Jim Colledge is one of the best men I know. That is true. But my dad is the best man that I have ever known. Yesterday in the early morning I walked in to find my dad sitting on his bathroom floor unresponsive. He had an aneurysm burst near his brain stem. There is no one I know who is more ready for heaven. He has talked about it for years. Every morning my mother and he raise their orange juice glasses and toast and say, "Today may be the day". They did it Saturday morning. Sunday morning, instead of the toast, my dad was in ICU teetering on the brink of glory. I find myself in between two rather profound places. At times I am at peace in the midst of a faith that burns like the noon day sun. My dad has secured not only his legacy on earth but Christ has secured his place in heaven. There is a wonderful hope there. My brother came in last night and we have laughed more than we have cried together. The other place I find myself is the place of profound sadness. I am a little boy who is about to lose his hero and even as I type that sentence tears leap from my eyes. It is a strange place to be. There is something so real and so solid in this place. This is where life, real life happens. It is where the impact of a single life hits both this world and the world to come. I sit on the line that separates us from eternity and I sit there with the man who has influenced my life more than any other. I love my dad. He loves the Lord. It does not get much better than that.

The Meeting

Last night I did something I have never done before. I went to an AA meeting. My wife Karen is taking a class about substance abuse and this was one of the assignments. It was held in a bingo parlor. As we pulled up we could see a few men huddled outside the dimly lit building smoking. We parked, got out of our car, and walked toward the building. Two of the men standing outside greeted us and welcomed us to Alcoholics Anonymous. They seemed very genuine with their welcome. We went in and found some seats and looked around. It was an interesting group of people. There were several older men who looked like they had spent most of their lives in a bottle. There was a very athletic looking young man in a sweatshirt over in the corner, a woman with a tattoo on her neck was behind me. A preppy looking kid who looked barely in his twenties sat in front of me. No one was putting on any airs. No one seemed to be concerned with the way they looked or what others thought of them. They were there for one reason and one reason only...to get healed. It was very profound. I had an inkling before I went that it might be a place where Jesus would hang out. I was right. There was the hardness of the bottle that had broken every life in there. There was a softness of grace spoken over and over again. Everyone is accepted. Everyone is the same. Everyone is welcomed and loved. And finally there was the unwavering commitment to truth. From the beginning of the meeting there was a single theme. You cannot get well unless you are brutally honest with yourself. So, everyone who spoke would stand and begin by saying, "Hello, my name is ___ and I am an alcoholic." There were no exceptions. There was no one who said, "I used to be". I wondered how different church would be if we started like that, "Good morning, my name is Joe, and I am a sinner. Welcome to Hudson Community Chapel." I was reminded of what I read years ago, that most of us only pretend to be sinners so we can only pretend to be forgiven. We ended the night by gathering in a circle, holding hands, and reciting the Lord's Prayer together. In that room, no one was pretending.

The Same Cloth

I am heading to India after the morning services this Sunday. It will be a quick trip with a friend who has built several orphanages over there and wants to go take a look. I will sit in a plane for several hours and arrive in a distant and foreign land. I have heard India described as a place that assaults the senses. I would agree. There is not a sense that India does not hit and hit hard. Sights, sounds, smells, tastes, are all amazingly varied and complex. My friend and I will meet our ministry partners over in India. We will look into the jet black eyes of a thousand children. The most amazing thing about going to a place like India is sitting and talking to fellow Christians. We are as different as human beings can be and yet there is something in them and in me that makes us have more in common than I have with most Americans. When someone really understands the Gospel and what Jesus Christ did for them on the cross then something happens to the fabric of their soul. My older brother Brian and I are a lot alike. I have heard people who know us both describe us as being "cut from the same cloth". And so we are. And that is exactly what I will feel in India. I will see Sam and Benny and see them smile. We will sit and talk about what is going on in their lives and what God is doing in India. We will pray together and eventually I will leave to come home. But for a week my heart will beat in unity with some men from India. We could hardly be more different and still be cut from the same cloth. But such is the mystery of the family of God.