Passions of the Soul

Matthew 8:23-26

This is the brief account wherein the disciples of Jesus are in a boat, when a fierce storm arises, and they panic. To their dismay, Jesus is sleeping peacefully, until they shout, "We'll all be killed! We'll all be killed!"

Okay, the New International Version words that a bit differently: "Save us! We're going to drown!" That woke Jesus, all right; He rebuked the storm, and it calmed.

But He also rebuked the disciples for their lack of faith, and I just wonder, why? Why did He rebuke them? I can think of three possibilities:

1) Did He think they should have been able to calm the storm, themselves, without waking Him? This has always been my presumption, but I may be wrong.

2) Did He want them to believe that, as long as He was there, they would not die, even if the boat sank? Or,

3) Did He think they should have known that, as long as they had faith in Him, their earthly death would not be final?

I reject the third possibility on the grounds that He had not yet gone to the cross and the grave; He had not yet been resurrected through the power of His Father in heaven. Therefore, resurrection was still strictly a matter of theological leaning. No one had, as yet, been resurrected, so there was no way He could have reasonably expected His disciples to trust Him for eternal life.

As to the other two possibilities, I've no idea. But this has been the first time that I paused long enough to wonder: Why did He rebuke the disciples for their lack of faith? And how often have I failed to act in the storms of life because I lacked faith? I shudder to think.

This is not the deepest of my scripture-based blog posts, but yes, I really do wonder how much more I could do for the Kingdom, if my faith were greater, which it might be if I actually saw some real miracles take place before my eyes . . . if more of my prayers were definitively answered.

But I can think of some of my fervent prayers that were answered definitively, if not immediately. And I know God is not pleased by double-minded, "Will he, won't he?" thinking. He wants us to expect our prayers to be answered, as He has promised to answer them. And yet, He doesn't, always. Some of the people for whom I have prayed fervently died, anyway--or did not get well. The letter of James says that "the prayer of faith will heal the sick." So when someone does not get well, does that always indicate a lack of faith? Or does it simply require more faith to keep on trusting, keep on believing, in the absence of undeniable evidence?

Personalizing: The latter is what I choose, believing that God is always working on my behalf, to fulfill His plan for my life; always believing that, in one way or another, He has answered or will answer my prayers. And as I look back over my life, I see how He was always there, always working for my good. So I believe He is still doing that, to keep me in hope of a mind-boggling future with Him.

Lessons Learned from a Good Outcome of 9-11

Title: Thunder Dog: The True Story of a Blind Man, His Guide Dog, and the Triumph of Trust at Ground Zero
Authors: Michael Hingson and Susy Flory
Publisher: Thomas Nelson – Kindle edition

Exactly what I expected from this book, I’m not sure. Is it a good 9-11 story? Yes, indeed—a bit unnerving, even, at times, although there was certainly no question as to the outcome: Michael and guide dog Roselle obviously made it out alive, along with Michael’s friend and co-worker, David Frank. 

But suspense was never the point; the point was how they made it out and how that story ties in with Michael’s life-long blindness and what we can all learn about blindness and interacting with blind people, as a result. At least, I think that is the point; I found myself wondering, many times, just what the main point of the book really was: Was the main point that they survived, despite Hingson’s blindness, by walking down almost 1500 stairs in Tower 1? Or was the 9-11 story the vehicle through which Hingson and Flory could educate the masses about blindness and how sighted people can interact with the blind without looking, ourselves, like total idiots? 

I think the latter option is true; certainly, that is how it turned out. I learned a lot from the book, not the least important point being that blindness does not render a person deaf, unintelligent, or incapable of doing anything for him- or herself. Not that I thought it did; yet, many sighted people act as though any or all of those are true. According to Hingson, blindness is not the tragedy many of us think it would be, if we were suddenly to lose our sight. Still, I suspect it would seem more tragic to me, at this stage of my life, that if I had lived with it from birth. But according to Hingson, putting up with the ignorance of most of the public with regard to blindness and dealing with the blind is perhaps the biggest hurdle a blind person faces—and faces virtually every day. 

Thunder Dog is worth reading, if only for the chance to learn a wealth of information, in one volume, about blindness and how to interact with blind people without robbing them of dignity and looking like an idiot. But the format--the interweaving the 9-11 story with Hingson’s life experiences as a blind child, adolescent and adult—often felt disjointed to me. I often found myself really “into” whichever part of the total story I was reading, only to be jerked back to the alternate story with little or no transition. I’m not sure whether a single volume with Parts 1 and 2—the two main story lines of the book--would have worked; it may be that the connections would be lost, altogether. Most likely, all that was needed were smooth transitions—easily followed segues.

I am a re-reader; I often turn to books I have previously enjoyed and read them again and again and…you get the idea. I am glad I read this book, but I don’t know that I’ll read it again. I do think you should read it, and maybe give it to someone who has a need to learn about blindness to help him or her cope with the blindness of a loved one, a co-worker, or some other person.

It might be a good gift (it is available in audiobook format, unabridged) for someone who is losing or has lost his or her sight, and feels devastated. I suggest this because Hingson also says that far too many blind people believe the negative misconceptions about their blindness and allow that to limit their life experiences, unnecessarily. If hearing the book will help them live a fuller life, then it’s well worthwhile.

Grace Gift in My Life: Reuben

I have edited this blog post on 5/24/2012 to add the photo of Reuben; I don't know the exact date it was taken, but it is very recent.
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Today is Father's Day, and social networking sites are filled with good wishes and statements of love and gratitude to dads, some of whom have gone on ahead. I love to read those, especially when they give any example of what made Dad stand out for them. But they also make me aware of a hole in my life, and that has come into sharp relief, yesterday and today. 

Several months after my parents divorced, my dad left the state we lived in, never to return. I wish I could tell you that his going was a terrible loss--and in some ways, it was, only because I was nine years old and daddies are not supposed to go away, forever. But, in some instances, it's better that they do where there has been abuse, chaos caused by addictions, mental illness, or whatever; and yes, sometimes healing takes place and some degree of reconciliation may be possible. Reconciliation was not possible, for us, and Dad's going away forever was best. But this post is not about him.

Sometimes, at least, God brings other people into the life of a child with only one parent, or with parents who have such severe problems that they can not effectively parent their children. Last year, I wrote a post for Father's Day--my first, ever--to honor Tom Clendenen. Tom was the first such man to come into my life, for a season, and I loved him very much. And having reconnected several years ago and even enjoyed a visit, early this year, I assure you that I still do. He and Eva are still really neat people who loved a little girl who felt adrift.

Other men, youth pastors and a few others, filled the need for male role models in my life. I don't mean that they taught me how to be a good man; that would be silly. But they exemplified good, Christian men who could and did invest themselves in the lives of kids and teenagers, including my life. I am ever and forever grateful to them. Don Hughes, now gone ahead, and Norm Shoemaker tried to help mold me into a reasonably healthy, contributing, Christian young woman. That was a tall order, but they were committed, and I still tear up when I remember how important they were to me and how God used them in my life.

Before I reached college, Norm brought into our youth group a godly man and student of the scriptures to speak to us for a week of special gatherings. Reuben Welch had been a pastor and had come to the church-related college in our town as an assistant professor in the Religion department. A kinder, more humble, more genuine follower of Christ Jesus I have never met. I have met a few whom I would describe in the same words, but none has surpassed him. I do not mean to imply that any of them is perfect, never feels frustrated with the demands made on him, never says anything he might not have said, with a little more thought; after all, they aren't in heaven, yet.

When I entered the church college, Reuben became my advisor, as I had listed a major in Religion. But he became so much more to me than he ever bargained for. I sought him out often for nonacademic counseling; as he was not always available when I insisted I needed to talk to him now, I learned that I could survive while waiting until Friday. I also learned that, no matter what I told him about myself, he responded in love and compassion. He was my first recognized example of the unconditional nature of God's love; that does not mean no one I'd ever known loved me unconditionally, but I hadn't recognized it.