Why Wait?

Note: This is an open note to my Brother-in-law, who will remain unnamed.

Dear Brother-in-law,

It was with sadness we heard, several months ago, that you had been placed in home hospice care. While we don't know what this means as far as how long it will be till you get to be with Jesus, it will likely be before me. (None of us really know how long we have left on this planet, we just pretend to know by looking at longevity statistics.) But I'm glad that you hung around long enough for us to come visit you these past couple of weeks.

I wanted to write to you now, because in our culture we have this strange practice of waiting until people are no longer with us to eulogize them. I think it's kind of a sad practice, because the person the eulogies are directed at doesn't get to enjoy them.

My history with you is not all that long, as far as our life-spans are concerned.  At first I was a bit leery when my sister met some stranger online about 18 years ago. She was still hurting from the loss of her first husband and I was feeling a bit protective of my little (if older) sibling.  But any fears I may have had about this stranger soon passed.

I first met you at your wedding.  In our culture, when we get married, we have these vows we repeat.  The vows are kind of like a contract with the fine print written in invisible ink.  Or, to use terminology from your former career, it's like obligating yourself to a cost-plus contract when you currently don't have the resources for the cost, let alone the "plus". This is because we do not know what our futures hold for us. We pledge "for better or worse", but we don't know which proportion the better's and worse's will come in. We all hope we'll leave earth peacefully in our sleep together with our spouses on the same night.

But that doesn't happen too often.

I want to thank you for coming into my sister's life at a time when she needed someone like you.  You came not only into her life, but you also took her children as your own as well.  That doesn't always happen with step-parents. I like watching how you interact with my sister's kids and grand-kids, even if they aren't genetically yours and even if you first had to bribe the grandkids with M&M's to get them to come to you. (I'm easily bribed with M&M's too. Just want to let you know before our next visit.😋)

You have made sure my sister was well cared for, not only in the present but also looking to the future. I appreciate that.

I like your sense of humor that shows you don't take life too seriously. Your house has always been a fun place to visit and I have a lot of fond memories from there. You even manage tp smile and laugh in your present condition, which is rather admirable. And people always feel welcome at your house.

You have a generous spirit, which, in my mind, was exemplified when you took a lot of time and patience to make a dulcimer just to give away as a gift.  (I had kind of been hoping you would make me a new guitar for when we eventually move back to California to replace the one I currently have that has suffered a bit from the hot, humid climate here 😁 )

Your generous spirit showed as well when you opted to take care of your ailing mother at home as long as possible, rather than send her off some place where no one knows her.  You even made a little "apartment" so she could be independent but always close by.

All this shows that you value the people in your life, and since these are many of the same people that I have in my life, I consider it an honor have you as part of our family.

But there is a greater family that we belong to, and that is the family of Jesus.  To all appearances, you will get to see Jesus before I do.

Paul wrote, "For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me. Yet what shall I choose? I don't know! I am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far; but it is more necessary for you that I remain in the body." (Philippians 1:21-24)

We are called to worship and serve the Lord Jesus only until such time as He sees fit, and then He calls us to his side.  So while I like having you as part of my family in this world, one day we will all depart to join the greater family in heaven.

In the meantime, remember that you are loved not only by your Father in heaven but also by so many of us on earth.  And we realize that you love us, even if you can't always give voice to it.

Thank you for being a part of our family.

Nothing to Say

I have nothing to say

and hugs are too far away.

Then (Job's three friends) sat down with him on the ground for seven days and seven nights, yet no one spoke a word to him, for they saw that his pain was very great. -- Job 2:13

I have to admire Job's friends for their behavior. At least for the first week.  It could not have been very easy for them. Job was probably not a pretty sight with all his festering sores.  He was probably groaning a lot.  And wafting up from his wounds would probably be something that, to borrow a phrase from George Carlin, "could knock a buzzard off a shit wagon".

I remember the day I got a phone call from my mom, telling me my sister's husband was killed in a freak motor vehicle accident.  Since I was the sibling that lived nearest, I dropped what I was doing to make the 5 hour drive to her house.  When I got there, I don't think I said anything, I just wrapped my arms around my sister. There wasn't much use in my voicing what we would have agreed upon: "this really sucks."  It wasn't the time for platitudes.  It was the time to just be there.

The Russell clan men when Mike was a part of it

One of the disadvantages of our current vocation is that we are far from family.  There are times when we just want to be there with them.

Now my sister, who already lost one husband, is dealing with her second husband having a rare form of cancer.  Because this is not a common cancer, it is hard for doctors to give any prognosis.  No one knows how long my brother-in-law has left this side of heaven.  Whatever it is, from our perspective, it is not enough.  And while I can FaceTime my friends and relatives, it is not the same as being there.  And even when I FaceTime them, it's not like I want to say a lot.  I want to be in their presence as much as technology allows us from across the waves.  I would like just to be with my brother-in-law even at times when he hardly has strength to acknowledge me.

Precious memories with George and Family

Last week, some of our co-workers were visiting a nearby country.  While driving one night, they struck another vehicle. One of our friends was killed.  Others ended up in a small hospital with not a great standard of care.  I just wanted to be there to comfort my friends.  Not to say anything in particular. Just to be there.

Remembering good times with some who have moved on to heaven

When returning home after a long journey, I have lots of stories to tell my wife.  But when we first get back together, the most important thing to be communicated doesn't require me to say anything. Words can wait.

There are many times when no words need to be spoken—times when words might actually disrupt important communication that needs to take place.  These are the times it is hardest to be away from family and friends. So we resort to using words, even though it is not our favorite option. And sometimes we may say something awkward because it is awkward to even say anything at all at that moment.

Meanwhile, we look forward to that day of great reunion—when being separated from loved ones will no longer be an issue.  When gestures of comfort will no longer be needed, for there will be no sorrow for which to receive it.

He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death will not exist anymore—or mourning, or crying or pain, for the former things have ceased to exist. (Revelation 21:4 NET)

Moving on

With a bit of sadness, this past week we went to Rim Khong Coffee and Steak for the last time.  It's not that we wanted to stop going there, it's just that the proprietors were moving to Kalasin Province, a four-hour drive from here.

Khun Yai ran the restaurant and his wife, Rung Arun, was a captain in the local police department.  (Rung Arun means "Dawn", and so has the same name as my sister)  They were our closest adult friends outside of church.  Their daughter would come to our English classes.

But Rung Arun is from Kalasin and they wanted to move closer to family.  So they built a house there and she got a transfer.  Now, only thirteen months after opening up Rim Khong Coffee and Steak, they closed its doors.  Khun Yai will open up a coffee shop in Kalasin, but it is a long way to go for a cup of coffee.  But I know where to find them when the occasion arises.

Khun Yai making coffee

Last cup at Rim Khong Coffee and Steak

The week after the coffee shop closed, we received word that another friend had moved on.  Betty, a long time supporter of our ministry, went to be with the Lord last month.  We met Betty and her husband Glen when they would come to volunteer at the Baptist Haiti Mission when we worked there about 30 years ago.  Glen and I had common interests in agronomy, photography and bird-watching.

Visiting with Glen and Betty

Their farmhouse in Vermont was a beautiful refuge.  The garden was full of vegetables and flowers, many planted to attract birds.  On a visit to their place back when we still lived in Haiti, Glen, upon hearing that we only had one set of binoculars between us, ordered another pair for us on the spot.

Bird feeders were everywhere at their house, and the whole family was involved in keeping track of when different species would come and go.

Chickadee on one of the Wood's many feeders

Glen has not been with us for several years, and now his wife has joined him.

There is yet another Haiti/Vermont connection that has moved on as well.  Elsa came to work at Baptist Haiti Mission with her husband, Pete, a retired music instructor, shortly after we did.  Pete passed away after a few years in Haiti, but Elsa stayed on volunteering with the child sponsorship program until just a few years ago.  Elsa was always such a cheerful and encouraging person to talk to.  In September, Elsa went to be with her late husband.

Visit with Elsa

Some of those who have moved on we may still see this side of heaven.  But we are grateful to have had all of these people as part of our lives.

As people move on from our lives, we are reminded that our lives are not static.  Changes are constantly happening and we move from one thing to the next.  We don't know what tomorrow brings, all we have is today.

James reminds us of the transience of life: Look here, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we are going to a certain town and will stay there a year. We will do business there and make a profit.”  How do you know what your life will be like tomorrow? Your life is like the morning fog—it’s here a little while, then it’s gone.  What you ought to say is, “If the Lord wants us to, we will live and do this or that.” (James 4:13-15 NLT)

 Since we don't know what is in store for us tomorrow we would be wise to cherish those we have in our lives while we have them.