Angels?

[Haven't blogged lately because the hard drive on our home iMac crashed. Amazing how dependent we are upon these little boxes of technological wonder. Getting back into it, so here's a quick post.]

Habitually walking the same route I've now traversed for over ten years, from my San Francisco office building to the BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) subway system, I've recently become more closely acquainted with a homeless man who regularly stands at that entry point right around "whistle blowing" time. I've blogged about him before and believe the Lord has put him there for a multitude of unknown reasons. But selfishly speaking I like to think He's put him there for me. His name is Robert, and I've often wondered whether he isn't an angel. I'm serious. (cf. Hebrews 13:2)

Since listening to the Sermon Series entitled "Radical: What the Gospel Demands", I've yet to look upon the homeless through the same lens I did since childhood. Ashamedly, I confess, there was always a part of me that tugged on my mind (sort of like the little cartoon devil on my shoulder) saying, "Why can't you get a job?", or "If I give you money, you'll only use it to feed your indulgent addictions, so 'No, you can't have my money'". (MY MONEY, yeah right.)

I recently did a search through the four New Testament gospels and am amazed at how many times Jesus makes reference to the poor and caring for them. He's cut me to the quick and now I just simply must dig into my pocket and give. I've squashed those haunting voices whispering into my ears and have since determined that I must gladly do what He loves without concern to the responsibility of the receiver.

While on my way home from work the other evening I was a little self-absorbed in thought. Walking toward that old familiar subway entrance, from a distance I could see Robert standing in his usual spot. With right hand in pocket I shuffled through to find some loose change, maybe a bill or two. When I finally met up to him, he said to me, "Let me see if I can make you smile." "Make me smile?", I thought to myself. I must really look down and out - he's never said that to me before. Shouldn't I be the one trying to make him smile? Moments into the verbal exchange, he said, "O. K., I'm going to try to this one more time. I'm going to try to get you to smile." At that moment I smiled, and he returned the grin with missing teeth and said with a cocked head, "Have a nice day."

See what I mean? An angel, I'm tellin' ya.

"They only asked us to remember the poor -- the very thing I was also eager to do." - Galatians 2:10

The Bouncy Tigger Isn't Always So Bouncy Fun

So in the spirit of full disclosure and transparency, and to avoid the trap of only conveying the joyous aspects of our expanding family life (remember, "Why do we blog?"), allow us to be real and let you know that all is not perfectly green on the other side of the fence. To get right to the point, Willow has been just an absolute "pill" lately. She's giving us, and others, the worst "stink eyes" that you can imagine. ("Stink Eyes" are those gruesome looks that convey what we commonly know as, "If looks could kill...".) They usually come out when she's tired (she hasn't been napping too much lately, which we'll get to in just a moment) or doesn't get her way. She's starting to hit Poppy (although we can assure you that Poppy isn't entirely innocent either), and she won't eat her meals with us when we're all around the table together. In fact, she'll stuff a lot of food in her mouth, look like a chipmunk, and then say she needs to spit it out. It's pretty gross... we don't need to go into much more detail on that. Of course only moments later after we've cleared the table she's all of the sudden get hungry again. Um huh, right. She's the bounciest little Tigger (Winnie the Pooh) we've ever known (although Barret sports a close "second" in that department when he was her age). Getting her to sit still is almost impossible, and getting her to sleep at normal times is equally exasperating. All of this leads to, of course, her tiredness and subsequent crabby attitude. As a result she's received more than her usual "recalibrations", which she quickly recovers from as if nothing bad ever happened. And one other thing - she's loud. Even Xiao Qian thinks Willow's loud, and she's pretty dang-tootin' loud herself. We now endearingly refer to ourselves as 'The Loud Family". The hardest thing for me, Tom, is that I know Victoria bears the brunt of all this while I'm away at work, and it wears you down when you're all alone. Yesterday afternoon, when I met Victoria and the girls at Barret's volleyball game she said, "Boy, am I ever glad to see you. Willow is driving me crazy. I just need to be next to you to gain some equilibrium", as she grabbed onto my arm with a bear-lock.

As parents one of our problems with Willow is that she's so dang cute and petite that we can run the risk of laughing it off. If you think about it, it's really not that funny or cute at all. And if we don't deal with it now while she's young, as Victoria reminds me all the time, we're going to have a monster on our hands down the road, more so than what we have now.

But lest we leave an impression that Willow is only a stinker, let us assure you that she's also a good, sweet little girl; we would say even most of the time. She's like all of us, we come as a whole package with both the good and the bad. And no one should ever think or get the impression that we don't love her, because I'm not sure we could love her any more than we do quite frankly. We're over-the-moon about this bundle of energy. She's a huge bright spot in our span of life, and we constantly give thanks to God for her. We wouldn't change a thing, nor would we really want her to be anything other than what she is. The fact of the matter is just that she's a big sinner in a little body. And what continually amazes us about these little tikes is that they don't need to learn how to be bad - it comes o so naturally for them. And then they grow up, like Victoria and me, and learn how to mask it, but it's still there and never really goes away. What she'll need more than anything else when she gets a little older is what we all need, a covering that erases the wrong so that we can stand before the One who is right. Thank God for Jesus because Jesus saves us from God.

We can write this about Willow now because she can't read and be embarrassed in front of her friends and all (although she might very well read this later, and hopefully laugh about it then). And if she's embarrassed later, well... then we guess she'll have to learn like what we're all learning and wrote about two days ago, "I do not accept praise from men" - Jesus.

We love you, Willow!

Why Do We Blog?

"Why do we blog?" We ask ourselves this question because we want to do everything with purpose and intentionality. Social networking can be a dangerous thing for lots of reasons, but for us the greatest risk is self-elevation and arrogance. Jesus said, "I do not accept praise from men" (John 5:41). We cannot think of a more noble estate than His because it represents the starkest of contrasts with ours. So we fight hard to make sure that we do not blog to receive honor. We walk by simple faith (and hopefully not by sight) through our pilgrim's progress just like every one before us has and just like every one after us will. Falling prey to the battle of pride haunts us at every turn. And while this is not why we blog, it is what ironically drives us to blog. Attempting to expose our faults, struggles, heartaches, successes, joys and gifts keeps it real. And since our inclination is to live privately, blogging helps to live publicly so all can see and know that God is pouring rain and radiating sunshine upon us in ways and measures that are not necessarily unique, but are personal. And while there's really nothing "new under the sun", and thus what we have to share isn't terribly revelational, we need to be often reminded that the hardships and abundances of life are shared in common and in community. Blogging assists us in that commonality and community, and so we blog to lower ourselves because, "God resists the proud, but gives grace to the humble." (James 4:6) And grace is what we need most.

Money Doesn't Make the World Work

This morning I was in my typical routine of getting ready for work. While in the solitude of my bathroom (we take what we can get these days) I was shaving and my mind wandered freely toward contemplating various aspects of money in my life. You know, things like how we're going to pay for certain stuff, financing college for the kids, paying bills, creating financial value for Hines, etc... In the background, behind closed door, I could hear the rest of the family wrestling around trying to get ready for their day. We only ("only", I'm ashamed to even use that word in this case) have two bathrooms in our home, so Poppy opened the door to the one I was in and asked if she could use it. Of course I told her that would be fine (we have cozy quarters around our home, so sharing facilities with little privacy is just part of the "deal"). As she sat there she asked me, "Dad, why do you always have to work?" I replied, "Because, Sweetheart, God created work for the world so that we could make money and eat." Without a second thought she said, "Daaaaad, money doesn't make the world work, God does." I thought for a moment while giggling under my breath and said, "You're absolutely right, Sweetie, money does not make the world work. But God also said in the Bible that if you don't work, you don't eat (cf. II Thessalonians 3:10). So you see, work is a good thing." "I know, Dad", Poppy said while simultaneously getting up, pulling up her pants and walking out of the bathroom. I watched her back side as she sort of waddled out the doorway and I closed the door behind her.

As Poppy left I just had to ponder for a moment about that blissful encounter in, of all places, the most inane spots. I wonder whether Poppy isn't an angel sometimes, I mean literally. She says the darnedest things at the most opportune times which I truly believe are supernatural. Here I was fretting over money and God plops Poppy down right on the place where money is in complete contrast to her bodily function and out she blurts the perfectly theological re-frame that put me right back to "ground zero". At my age, how many times must God remind me that I cannot serve both God and money (cf. Matthew 6:24)? I guess pretty dog-gone frequently given the slap up side the head He gave me this morning through our Qing Zu Qiao.

Thank you, again, Poppy. (And thank you, God.)

The House of Mourning

This is a relatively long post, and is primarily written for my, and my family's own benefit. As with all our posts, please feel free to by-pass. We write to lift ourselves up with the hope that if others choose to read they might find some benefit for their own souls as well. This is not about us, but about Him.

As much as I (we) enjoyed our family time away last week, I must confess that I was a bit distracted by the weightiness of some sorrow in my heart and around my office back at work (which I will explain in just a moment). For many of my acquaintances it's hard for them to understand the bonds I share with the people I work with, almost as if they were (are) my family or my church. In fact, we often refer to ourselves within Hines as "family", and it has real significance not only because it's a privately held, family business, but also because most of us that work at Hines feel a kindred bond that runs so much deeper than mere "employee/employer". Why I was provided such a remarkable employment arrangement for the last 25+ years still dumbfounds me, and I often catch myself asking, "Is this real?"

A couple of years ago a very close work associate of mine (that I interface with on almost a daily basis) was diagnosed with breast cancer. She successfully fought the arduous fight and was granted the gift of those invaluable and precious words, "Cancer-Free". Not too long after receiving that gift she was thrown into a similar fight, only this time it would require many more rounds in the ring that would pummel any human being thrown into it. This match was now with Leukemia. Ironically, I'm told that the treatment (chemotherapy) for her previous cancer induced the second. She happened to fall victim to the less than two percent (2%) risk that the cure for one thing might lead to the infliction of another.

Throughout the ordeal she remained positive, upbeat, hopeful, optimistic and genuinely convinced that one punch after another only meant that while she couldn't dodge it that time, the next time she saw it coming she would. Every one of her acquaintances stand in awe of her fervor. I would communicate with her by phone from time to time, go see her in the hospital (here in the City - San Francisco), pray for her, etc... But a couple of weeks ago she told me that she was thinking about giving up the fight as she had "run out of options". She told me that on a Monday evening and said she would make her final decision the next morning. I called her first thing the following day and she confirmed for me, with a weak, strained voice that her decision was final and that she would let her body take its natural course. I asked her if I could come see her that day, and she said she'd love for me to come by. I finished up a couple of things in the office and took a cab up the hill to the hospital. We had a pretty sweet time together, alone, for about an hour or so. Slipping in and out of sleep and consciousness every minute or two, we talked, laughed, discussed death, contemplated burial and then moved on talking about life after life. She made it clear to me that she was at peace with Jesus, and was ready to go home to Him. Through a few tears I prayed for her and then she fell asleep for a long while, which I took as my queue to let her partially recover from her exhausting hour with me. I then went to go see her again two days later while her husband was there and was shocked by how much she had deteriorated in only 48 hours.

Between that first and second visit that week my senior partner, and officer I report to within the firm, asked me to share the news about her condition and decision (also at her request) with the entire office. He asked me if I was comfortable doing so and I replied, "No, but I'm willing to do it if you want me to." He said he did and that he wanted it done within the next hour or so. I quickly gathered my thoughts, then gathered the 30+ folks from the office together into one room and said something along the following lines while trying to hold it all together:

"Most of you know and are intimately acquainted with our good friend and colleague ______. I wanted to give you an update on her condition, particularly since some developments have transpired that she wanted me to share with you. I have had several conversations with her, albeit brief, over the last three or so days, and I had the privilege of seeing her yesterday at the hospital. To say that she was weak would be an understatement.

Most of you know she’s been a cancer warrior and survivor for a long time now. To wear that badge of “cancer warrior/survivor” is of honorable distinction, especially among those who wear the same badge. Nobody asks to enter that war, and nobody willingly wants to be awarded that medal. This battle was foisted upon her, and she has been fighting and succeeding, but often times with one step forward and two steps back. This began with her initial breast cancer, and then her leukemia. Mixed in there she’s heard the words "remission", followed by "cancer", followed by the loss of her mother-in-law, followed by pneumonia, and then followed by a weakening heart. I’ve heard many of you say she’s your hero, and that she is.

It was good to see her yesterday. In many respects she’s her same old self. Always thinking about others before herself, asking about how everyone’s doing, finding a way to keep a smile on her face, tender, gentle, kind… you know, all of the things we know so well about her and love her for.

Today she spoke to me and confirmed what she had told me yesterday while I saw her that she has decided to continue fighting (and she wanted me to convey this to you), but only now her fight is going to be for life after life. This means that she’s chosen to forego any further treatments or surgeries and let her body shut down. And now it’s all about being as comfortable as possible until then.

I know this is hard for all of us to hear, and it’s extremely difficult to deliver this message. For some of you this may come as a complete shock and surprise, and for others you might have had an inkling it may come to this. Regardless, the sorrow of thinking about losing her is a grief we must all bear.

This tragic news comes right on the heels of many of you here working hard to put together a special video to cheer her up. That effort speaks volumes about your love, care and concern for her, and is testament to the family we all embrace as Hines. I encourage you to continue your filming, although you may wish to postpone for a day or two to collect your thoughts. Most of you will need time to process this, and if you want to talk to me, I'll make myself available to you at anytime.

She has said that the doctors give her a very short time. She’s going to stay in the hospital and will be made comfortable there. She’s excited that on Friday they’re going to let her see her cats, who if you know her you know that she really loves those little felines. She’s also open to seeing visitors, but you need to know that if you go to see her, she may not be able to do so and you may be turned away. I’m going to try to make contact with her husband and ask how he’d like to handle visitors.

In closing, I want you to know that during my time with her yesterday, while holding her hand and kneeling by her bedside, she said that she was completely at peace with this and that everything is going to be O. K. She wanted me to tell you this.

On that note, talk to one another, take time, and please let me be a resource to you, and let’s cheer her on."

Our friend and colleague passed at 3:00 p.m. on Wednesday afternoon. I received the news while sitting on the beach with Barret and Xiao Qian. They both knew, as did my whole family, that her passing was imminent while we were on vacation and they gave me lots of space to deal with it and to talk to colleagues who were wrestling with this heartache. Xiao Qian didn't quite know how to handle this, so she just kept asking me if I was O. K. She also said she was sorry. I thought this demonstrated a lot sensitivity on her part, particularly not knowing how our culture deals with death. Barret was sweet too, and Victoria the best, saying to me, "People just need to process and talk these hardships through."

My older brother passed away years ago, and Victoria reminded me that at his memorial service the pastor reflected on Solomon's wise words that, "It is better to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting, because that is the end of every man and the living takes it to heart." (Ecclesiastes 7:2) There's been a bit of a heavy, dark cloud hanging over my head these last days, as it has with many of my colleagues, about this tragic ending to such a remarkable life. And while I need not get morbid about life, these departures of people that are close to us, especially one's that are as impactful to the human spirit as hers, leave indelible marks that bring me back to my roots. "Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked shall I return there", said Job (1:21a). The raw nature of life and death bring about a peace, if you will, because they leave me at a place where I have nothing left to grab onto but a savior, one who can rescue me from the dark uncertainty all of mankind possesses about "What's next after this?", and "What am I doing with my life that has any eternal value whatsoever?" These questions began with Adam and will continue until the last.

So, by faith, I close with the same words as Job because he too had no where else to turn when he said after he spoke the words written above, "The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away. Blessed be the name of the Lord." (1:21b)

Bless you, Lord.