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| Kairen Olivia |
Woody Allen once said, "I am not afraid of death. I just don't want to be there when it happens." No matter who you are, there comes a time when we all must deal with the certainty of death. For most people, it comes in their 20s/early 30s at about the time they begin to lose grandparents, parents, and others. My grandfather, Lonnie Pridemore, died on May 3, 1978. I remember that day so vividly because my high school principal came to my first period class to get me and told me what had happened. It was then my responsibility to go to my younger brother Greg's class and tell him and then drive us home. It was the first time I had faced the death of someone so close.
On April 18, 1985 (3 days after his 51st birthday), I got a call in the middle of the night telling that me my dad, Lester Fleenor, had suffered a major heart attack and I needed to get to the hospital as quickly as possible. I was living 30 miles away, but made the trip in 20 minutes. When I got there, my uncle was waiting outside and told me that it was too late. Dad was gone.
I never got the chance to tell my grandfather or my dad goodbye. I could not tell them I loved them or how much they meant to me. I never got to hug them one last time. In fact, the one thing that kept running through my head for months was the fact that my dad and I had argued the last time I had seen him. He was in the right, yet I refused to listen. I wish I had not done that, but you see, I didn't know that there would not be a "next time" with him. That is the case with most of us. We seldom know when that "last visit" will occur.
When I returned to work a week after dad's death, one of the first people to greet me was an older electrician named Joe Baker. Joe put one hand on my shoulder and said, "Tony, people will tell you that time will heal a lot of the hurt you are feeling, and I guess that is true, but my dad died 40 years ago and there has not been a single day in those 40 years that I haven't thought about him. Not a day that I don't miss him."
Joe Baker was right. I sit at this computer right now (29 years after dad died) and I have trouble seeing the screen or the keys because of the tears. My heart aches. My mind is flooded with pictures of ball games, cookouts, working in the garden, and playing catch. I still hear his voice as he tried to teach me life lessons about what was truly important -- God, family, country, hard work, honor, integrity, honesty, keeping your word, thinking of others before yourself, and love. But come to think of it, most of those things I learned from him were not spoken at all.
For example, during the summer he would come to pick my brother and I up from the Boy's Club at the end of the day. He would stand at attention with his hand over his heart and tears in his eyes as we lowered and put away the American Flag. It wasn't just there. He did the same thing no matter where we were when a flag was being raised or lowered. He had a deep abiding love of this country and what she stood for. Unlike many today, he was not ashamed of his country or of his service in the Army during the Korean War. When I was young, this was all kind of embarrassing. No matter what the TV news said or how it looked to anyone else, my dad stood proud and tall in support of our country. I still think of him and see that salute every time I hear the national anthem or see a flag being taken down. It is a life lesson that circulates in my soul to this day.
During the late-1960s, when America was in upheaval due to the Vietnam War and racial tensions, I had no clue that I was supposed to hate people whose skin color was different than mine. Our house was 2 blocks away from the Little League baseball fields in Morristown. My team was the only team in the league that was evenly divided between black kids and white kids. Most evenings during the summer, my dad would grill out in the backyard. Players (black and white) would come by, eat some great food, laugh, play and act stupid, and then head over to practice or a game. Dad never had to sit me down and explain to me about treating all people the same. He didn't have to. His example spoke volumes.
For a long time, I would find myself picking up the phone to call dad to tell him about some problem or ask his advice. As I hung up the phone, my sense of sadness, loss, and pain would overwhelm my body and mind. When I was paralyzed in 1993, I really needed my dad. During those first 7 years of mostly bed confinement, many days and nights I was so angry with God for taking him away. My life, and the lives of my family members, would have been much different if he were around. But, he wasn't.
A lot of my anger about his death stemmed from all the stories I heard from people about my dad. Turns out, I thought, my dad was a doormat. It seems as though every person I talked to had stories about my dad getting up in the middle of the night to go and help someone whose heat had quit working, or their car was broken down, or their lawnmower would not start, or they were stuck in the snow and needed help, or they could not find their pet. Middle of summer or dead of winter, my dad never said no. The stories just kept on coming. I became angry at my dad and all of those folks because they had "used" him until it finally killed him. If they had not taken advantage of him, I reasoned, he would still be alive.
I carried that anger for many years. It became even worse when I realized that I was married to a woman whose attitude toward serving others was just like my dad. Through her example, I eventually realized that it was the love and service to others that had kept my dad alive for many years. It was the joy of helping others that strengthened his heart, not weakening it. Just another life lesson my dad taught me without saying a word.
What a testimony my dad had. In fact, it is a testimony that has survived him for 29 years. It is a testimony that literally thousands of people have told to others. It is a testimony that I give witness to this day. It is a testimony that continues to inspire me, my family, his grandchildren, and even his great grandchildren who never knew him. It is a testimony that surpasses anything he accomplished during his 51 years on the planet. Which begs the question: What will people say about the testimony of my life after I am gone? What will they say about yours?
In March, 2009, I was a Transitional Interim Pastor at BonDeCroft Baptist Church in White County. On a Friday evening, I found myself in the Cookeville Hospital ER. After several hours, a CT Scan of my chest revealed multiple blood clots in my lungs. Doctors and nurses came from everywhere. They were giving me injections, starting an IV with several bags of medicine in my arm. I was told I would be going to ICU and that things did not look good. I was close to dying. Yet, I was at perfect peace. Now that was weird!
You see, my wife Karen, who was beside me in the ER, is the strong one in the family. I think it has something to do with teaching Pre-K for 30+ years on top of being married to me. She has seen it all. She had also been through 16 years of my health issues already. She was and is a rock. I am the one who became a blithering idiot in times of great stress. She was always able to keep me from totally losing it. However, when the ER doctor told us how bad it was, our roles were completely reversed. Here I was at complete peace. A peace I cannot explain. A peace I had never known before or since.
My "rock," on the other hand, began crying uncontrollably. She started praying "Lord please don't let him die. I don't want to lose him." (Now if you are a woman and you have read any of the previous blogs,you might just be thinking, "Let him die! After all he has put you through, let him die"). But thank God I did not marry you! Well, for 8 days I was in the hospital. When I was released, I was told not to do any preaching or traveling for a couple of weeks. However, one of church members at BonDeCroft died and I was asked to do the funeral four days later. During that funeral, I shared with the people about what had happened in the ER. I said, "I was at peace and ready to go home to be with the Lord, but my wife kept praying for me to live. If it had not been for her prayers, I would not be here today." That's when it hit me.... Karen had prayed me right out of heaven!
In the 5+ years since then, there have been many days and nights when I have felt so bad that I longed and actually ached for heaven. The "Dark Nights" would be unbearable without the hope of heaven. The late Bill Bright, in his book "The Journey Home" wrote, "Seeing difficulty through the eyes of God is the only way I can comprehend anyone coping sensibly with death and dying." The Apostle Paul put it this way,
For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home (body) is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For in this tent we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling.... For while we are still in this tent, we groan, being burdened—not that we would be unclothed, but that we would be further clothed, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. He who has prepared us for this very thing is God, who has given us the Spirit as a guarantee. So we are always of good courage. We know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, for we walk by faith, not by sight. Yes, we are of good courage, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord. So whether we are at home or away, we make it our aim to please him. (2 Corinthians 5:1-9 (ESV)
Christians living in the midst of chronic, debilitating health challenges, can testify that we are so glad that the bodies we currently have on earth will be replaced with new, glorified, perfect ones once we die. That promise from God is a great source of hope and strength for all Christians. But we must be careful about how we interpret that promise.
For some, the answer is to essentially "give up" on their lives here and sit around waiting to die. I have been guilty of this myself. Even now, laying in this bed every day and staring at the same four walls makes things much more difficult. My health deteriorates daily, my pain increases daily, my muscle atrophy worsens daily, and my mental functions worsen daily. I must fight the urge to give up. It is one of the hardest things I have ever had to do.
And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up. (Galatians 6:9 (ESV)
I can rationalize my situation to justify giving up. After all, every doctor, endocrinologist, neurologist, and neurosurgeon has said "Tony, it is really bad, but there is nothing we can do. We can't stop it. You'll just have to try to cope with it the best you can." See there! I want to give up. The doctors want me to give up. Must be the right thing to do. Right? No, WRONG!
At this point, you may be wondering just where this blog is going right now. And, in some ways, you would be rightly concerned. I am just as anxious as you are to find out what the next sentence will be, much less the rest of this post. One of the advantages of cognitive decline is that what I write is often as much of a surprise to me as it is to you. So, hang on, I am almost finished..... I think!
So, why not just give up? I mean if there is no hope of improvement. If there is no medical procedure or research that might be of help. If the end result, death, is assured, and the only question is when or how soon? Then, even Mr. Spock from Star Trek would tell me that giving up was the "logical" thing to do.
If you will remember the first paragraph from this post, you will see why giving up is not an option. My granddaughter Kairen doesn't want me to give up. She wants me to go to heaven, but not right now. She needs me and I need her. Despite how I feel about being stuck in this bed, she is next door and could care less that I can't do things with her like a "normal" poppy. She climbs on the bed, prays for me, sings to me, laughs with me, watches YouTube videos with me, and talks to me. Kairen is a reason I must not give up.
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| More Kairen Olivia |
You see, how I live in the midst of these "Dark Nights" will have a profound impact on her as she grows up. Not only her, but her older brother Carter (who just turned 13 and is the best friend, other than my wife, that I have ever had in my life. There is a blog coming with his name on it. You do not want to miss that one!), my daughter, Mary, her husband CJ, my son, Jeremy, granddaughter Chloe, my wife, Karen, grandchildren Madison, Jacob, Parker, and Lane, my friends and other family members, my church, the churches I have served as Pastor, as well as others who read this blog and many other people who I have never met or may not have even been born yet. They are many of the reasons I cannot give up.
None of us can truly comprehend the length and breadth that our testimony (for good or for bad) will ultimately reach in this world. When we find ourselves in the middle of a "Dark Night," we hardly ever think about these things, but we should. If we are honest, our God has given us a lot of people that have influenced our lives. Some for bad and some for good. We learn from them both.
But I challenge you right now to look around and look back and see the impact that people have had in your life. Where would you be today if they had just given up on themselves, on you, or on God? Our stories and our lives would be radically different. So, for a Christian to just give up when times are difficult becomes the ultimate act of selfishness. If I give up, that makes it easier for the next person to give up too. What kind of testimony would that be? What and whose stories will be told in the vacuum of life that I would leave if I just gave up and quit? I do not want to find out the answer to that question. Do you?
Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him. (James 1:12 (ESV)
My dad did not give up. He was frustrated toward the end of his life because he could not do many of the things he once did. He now resides in heaven with a wondrous body in the presence of a glorious Savior. His example, while on this earth for a short time, is one that is still producing good fruit long after he died. Praise God, my dad did not give up. He is another reason I cannot just give up.
My Jesus is the real reason that I cannot give up. Since I trust Him, I know that what I am going through has a purpose. Since I know Him, I am confident that His purpose is for my good and His glory. Since He lives in me, I know that He will not leave me or forsake me at any time. Since He suffered and died for me, I realize that He knows what it is like for me to be in pain and agony. Since He rose from the grave, death and dying are no longer foes to fear, but defeated foes for all time and eternity.
While the doctors offer no hope for me, my Jesus sure does. When I was a young boy, the first long passage of Scripture I memorized was John 14:1-6. It was my grandmother's, Arkie Pridemore, idea. Yet to this day, it remains the most comforting Scripture passage for me. Jesus knew His disciples were struggling with the fact that He was going away. They were still shocked by Jesus' words that one of them would betray Him. And they still didn't understand why Jesus had washed their feet. It would have been easy to just give up. But Jesus pointed them to heaven and the home He was preparing for them. If they (and you and I) would keep that focus, our hearts would not be so easily discouraged and willing to give up.
“Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also. And you know the way to where I am going. Thomas said to him, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” (John 14:1-6 (ESV)
Finally, I want you to know that you can be a good Christian, love the Lord, and want to glorify Him even if you struggle with many of the things I have discussed over the past few months in this blog. As you have seen, if struggling is proof of a failed walk with the Lord, then I have obviously failed big-time. I am so glad it is not! We are all human beings. We are frail. We are sinners. We all fall short on so many levels in our Christian walk.
While the lives of other Christians can be a great source of encouragement and strength to us, it is important to know that our goal is not to act or be like anyone else. Our goal should be to be like Jesus. If you feel the need to give up, please give it all up to Him. He knows what to do with it.
Check out the video below. It has been an awesome blessing to me. A reminder of who Jesus is and how He has everything under control. Hallelujah, He Lives in Me!
Mercy Me - You Are I Am