Fair & Cruel

"How could...something...so fair...be so cruel? When this...black sun...revolves...around you. There is an answer in the question...and there is hope within despair. - Death Cab for Cutie (Black Sun)

Imagine my surprise, a few weeks ago, after I posted my last blog, and seconds later my mother's tablet (which I haven't had the heart to disconnect) beeped. A message had arrived in her "inbox" : my blog. I had no idea she'd subscribed to it. The irony. And I thought, "This is all...so...unfair."

If you think about it though, really, really think about it? Death is fair. It is, perhaps, the fairest thing ever. An eternity in heaven, a home amidst the stars, free from pain and sorrows, in exchange for a life that was glorious at times, yes, but crushingly brutal at times as well. Want to leave your sins behind? Want to sleep well, really deeply, as you never have before, free from stress and fear and quiet hours fraught with the deep and painful concern that no one will ever truly understand you in this world? God eventually says, "Come with me." And when your time comes? I bet we all fight it, but I imagine not for one second longer than it takes to catch a glimpse of it: of what's next, of the loved ones waiting for us there, and the realized utter reality of heaven. It’s probably the easiest of goodbyes, because now you know that even those you leave behind will be along soon enough. No need to worry.The sting of death is lost when its reputation is destroyed. I bet my father whistled his way outta here and my mother? I bet she sang. A sweet hymn. For sure.

I’ve noticed that when I get into trouble with my grieving? It's when I start making my mother's death about me. It's hard not to make someone else's death about you, when you're all that's left : they're gone. Forever. But we must be careful, for the devil is in "forever". It's just a word - again, for those of us left behind - that can, yes, trigger hopelessness. But, in truth, forever isn't such a long time. If, for example, I have thirty years left on this earth? Then I'm only thirty years away from seeing my mother again. That's no "quick minute", I know, but it's a lot shorter than the vast expanse of this lie called “forever”. And between now and then God would have blessed me with a lot of living to do.

A friend gave me a book on grieving recently and in it there’s the suggestion to look at the entire tragedy of loss from God’s perspective. Imagine the difficulty of creating a creature so delicately complex and then asking it to figure itself out, knowing full well, as the Creator of the universe, that it never entirely can, due to the free will that must be imparted to it for that journey of self- discovery to even begin. Without free will you'd just have a bunch of robots. Yet the very thing it needs is the very thing that hinders it. For free will is all about life; to exercise it or to surrender it. In the process, these lovely creatures do so many beautiful things, and hurtful things and things that are just downright mysterious. And you let them, in Your grace and mercy, because you know that in the end they will be yours again anyway. Together at last, you can finally tell them what it was all about, and no matter what, you will love them through and through.

If you really, really think about it? It just doesn't get any fairer than that.

Mom, Death & Jacob

"So Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him till daybreak. When the man saw that he could not overpower him, he touched the socket of Jacob’s hip so that his hip was wrenched as he wrestled with the man. Then the man said, “Let me go, for it is daybreak.” But Jacob replied, “I will not let you go unless you bless me." - Genesis 32 (22-26) 

Yesterday I refused communion for the first time in nearly fifteen years. I just wasn't feeling it, and more importantly, my heart wasn't right. I knew that. I sensed it. And even though God and I are wrestling these days, and I'm punching him in the face every chance I can get a hand free, I still hold the bread and the cup in high enough esteem not to partake in them without a mind that's focused, or a heart that's ready.

On Dec 4th the Lord took my mother from me. Or maybe it was the 3rd. Or the 2nd. All I can say is, by the time I found her, face down on the floor in her bedroom, she'd been dead quite a while. Ice cold. Full rigor. Her eyes were closed tightly, as if the pain in the end were nearly unbearable. A massive heart attack, most likely, or a massive stroke.

I don't want to hear about how "it's a part of life" or that "these things happen". I don't want pious advice or empty platitudes. I only want one thing: answers. Jacob wrestled the angel of the Lord, and so, now, do I. Each day I step into the field and I shake my fist at God and ask the same questions before I attack him: Why did she have to die that way? What did she ever do to You? Why did I have to find her like that? Was I such a bad son? Such a shitty believer? What in the world were you trying to teach me? What lesson? What admonishment? How. Could. You. Do. This.

During this same time, I've had friends preoccupied with serious matters of their own. One is fighting cancer, another alcoholism. One has a child that's been forced to endure four surgeries in the past four weeks. I've got people I love fighting loneliness and illness, two more fighting brokenheartedness and failed relationships. Some of them are believers, some of them aren't. And I am watching, studying it all. They're human. It's life. Blah. Blah. Blah.

You see, the speed of the game is slowing down for me, and that can only happen with experience. But here's the thing : I don't necessarily like what I'm seeing. I see nothing but utter chaos. I see no order, no method to the madness, no direction and very little hope. I see people making grand stands, commendable examples and witnessing with a fervor that leaves me awe struck, but I'm losing my ability to see why. That's the truth. It's dark where I'm at. I can't see anything, much less any "why's", and I'm sorry if that disturbs you.

There's only one thing I can say: every, single time I have stepped out into the field to wrestle with the Lord? He has not backed down. Not one, single time. He shows up. He brings it. And as we struggle with one another, as I bite, punch, grapple and claw at him with all I have? As I scream at him with a rage that is all consuming? I have felt it...more than once...I have: his chest against mine...and I have felt Him weeping.

And I know beyond all knowing that I can fight all I want, for as long as I want, for the rest of my life if I so choose, and My Lord will never let go of me. Ever. And I love Him for that. I really do.

Double Minded

"But if any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all generously and without reproach, and it will be given to him. But he must ask in faith without any doubting, for the one who doubts is like the surf of the sea, driven and tossed by the wind. For that man ought not to expect that he will receive anything from the Lord, being a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways." - James 1:5-8

At what point does your faith give way to doubt? That question has hung over my head this entire week, for a number of reasons. As such, I have asked it of myself and now I ask it of you. It's not a bad question, just an honest one. The way we answer it helps us to determine where we are in our hearts, our minds and on our walk either towards or away from God. That last part also makes the question a very important one.

I can't speak of you or to your life but I can speak of mine. The truth is I still cling to thoughts and behaviors of my "old" self that are both unhealthy and hypocritical. I want to say, "What? I can't help it." But I know I can. So when I judge someone who is pissing me off or look for too long at a short skirt I am, in many ways, indulging in the very behaviors that led me to the same dark place that made me cry out to God over ten years ago. That place where the "old" me had not exorcised his demons but, instead, threw a huge party for them and said, "Come on in!"

It seems silly. Stupid, really. I may not be able to speak of whatever you believe and/or how you believe it, but you can. How's it going? How are you feeling? Is God in your life, somehow or someway? Are you and He not on speaking terms for some reason? Or have you convinced yourself not to take the whole "God" thing too seriously? Are you still indulging in the double minded ways of this world and, if so, as my pastor likes to say, "How's that working out for you?"

You know, this is my 100th blog. When I started it about five years ago, I just wanted to share my life with others; the triumphs, the tribulations. It was my hope that I would always portray my life in a way that was real, so that the realness of your life wouldn't be such a solitary experience. So that you could say, "Yeah. I've thought that too." or "Man. I remember feeling that way before." The truth is that I've always been after the truth. But I've stumbled, badly, along the way sometimes. For example: one cannot blog about spirituality one day, then take a drunken selfie with cheerleaders and post it on his Facebook page the next, without appearing the fool. Or worse.

But, again, I've tried to keep it honest and part of that honesty is about the struggle. I'm no role model. But, hopefully, I will get there. Until then? It's been so nice to have you along for the journey. 

Backslider

“I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out.” – Romans 7:15-18

One of the great mysteries in the journey of faith is the propensity for us all to backslide. Back into old ways. Back into sin. When I was a new believer this used to really frustrate me. I thought that any true faith required a ton of trust and, once broken, little or no forgiveness. You were either in or you were out, and there was no room for backsliding. It was a betrayal of God and, really, what could be worse than that?

But that definition of faith was my own, not God’s. It was built up over a lifetime of hurts and misguided beliefs. In my world there was no room for mistakes or backsliding in either my business or personal relationships. This was also how I judged myself. With each mistake I pushed myself further from God, convinced once again that I simply was not good enough for Him. On good days I told myself I was just a poor believer. On bad days I convinced myself that I was just a creature better suited for evil.

In Romans 7:15-18 we have Paul, a titan of the faith, expressing with shocking honesty that even he backslid from time to time. In Ellicott’s commentary on this section of Romans (and on 7:17 in particular) he says: “This, then, appears to be the true explanation of the difficulty. There is really a dualism in the soul. I am not to be identified with that lower self which is enthralled by sin.”

A dualism of the soul. It is, to me at least, an adequate and profound explanation for the tug of war I engage in, almost daily, with what I want to do versus what I ought to do. Yet we must remember to take comfort in the endless examples the Bible gives (David, Solomon, The Prodigal Son, etc.) that show just how willing God is to seek us out, love us and forgive us.

God knows our struggles, and he is not nearly as interested in our failures as he is in our loving efforts to show Him that we will try, and try again, to overcome them. So the next time you backslide? Remember: with fist to the ground and heels dug in deep? Push on.

Plant Your Flag

Imagine that you and I decide to go on a hike together. It doesn't really matter where. But let’s pretend it’s a nice day and the hike is moderately long. As we set off with our packs and bottled waters, things look good. Then, about a mile or so in, out of nowhere, I begin to share with you that I’m really worried that we might encounter a snake. Or, what will we do if it begins to rain? I mean, I didn't pack my jacket. And, uh, are there bears in this area? And, ya know, the ground is uneven, too, and what if one of us falls and breaks an ankle? How far away is help? And, oh man, I forgot to take my Claritin this morning, and I read that the pollen count today is going to be brutal! And…and…

I suspect that at some point you’re going to tell me to quit freaking out, to quit worrying, and to start thinking positive. You will no doubt try to point out the beautiful trees, the big sky, the sunshine above, or all the many flowers gathered around us. You may express your desire that I come around, because this is quality time that we’re spending together, and you were really hoping that we could talk. If I still don't calm down? You might think that something’s wrong with me and that it's time to turn back.

Now…what it the hike was life? Think about it. Don’t we all sometimes act the way I acted in this story? Jumping at shadows, obsessing over possible calamities, fearful, worried or focused on the negative? The “what if’s” become the “what then’s” and they go round and round in our heads on an endless loop. I wonder what it must be like for God to be hiking next to us on the journey of our lives and to see us acting this way, to see us get so lost, and then watch us as we miss SO very much that He created us to be and to see.

Thankfully, though, He has unlimited grace and patience. He never leaves our sides or gets fed up with us. He never throws up his arms and says, “That’s it. I’m outta here. Let’s give up and go back to the car!” Instead, He waits for the proper moment to remind us, when we’re ready in our hearts to hear it, that we we’re never created to be worriers and doubters.

We were created to be adventurers and to someday lay claim to the summit of our lives.

What Success Really Is...

"He called a little child to him, and placed the child among them. And he said: “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven." - Matthew 18:2-3

I want to hand off my blog this week to my thirteen year old son, who had his very first “Big Poetry Assignment” this week, and came up with this, which he plopped down on my desk for review:

What Success Really Is

By Anthony Faggioli IV

What is success? You may wonder.

Well, you won’t have to make a blunder

I’ll tell you…

To make a friend laugh loudly;

To work hard at your job,

even if it seems like you carry the weight of the world;

To win the respect of peers and friends

and the affection of lovers;

To have a good time with family;

To admire nature, with its beautiful forests and sparkling rivers, like a great art critic

With appreciation and understanding;

That, my friend, is what success really is.

I'm not sure how that winning the “affection of lovers” thing is going to go over with his Mom, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. As for me? I’m not going to front: I got a little choked up before regaining my manly-man composure (okay, I just fronted). Anthony couldn't believe I really liked it that much, but that’s okay. He will someday, God Willing, when he has kids of his own. It seems like not that long ago that my boy was just scribbling. Now he's writing poetry.It's special. Our children (and grandchildren, and nieces and nephews) are a gift. That’s for sure. And they’re a gift that keeps on giving, one moment, one surprise, one challenge and one delight at a time.  

Maxime

“I waited patiently for the Lord, he turned to me and heard my cry.” Psalm 40

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:6-7

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” John 14:27

“Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care.” Matthew 10:29

Join me, if you will, for a little story about a daily parking stamp, some scriptures and the 19th Wedding Anniversary that my wife and I share today.

First, about that daily parking stamp. It was red, with a white "City of Hermosa Beach" seal and it cost a $1.75. As manager of the parking lots in downtown Hermosa Beach in the early 90's, it was part of my job to monitor the sale of validation booklets and daily parking stamps to all the merchants for their customers and employees. I rarely ran the sales window, but on that June day in 1992 I was. That's when it happened.

She came across the parking lot in a navy blue dress, with white piping along the collar, and wearing blue heels. She was naturally tan, with dark eyes and long black hair that fell over her shoulders in thick layers. Her smile was bright, and when she spoke to me it was in a tiny, angelic voice. That was pretty much all it took. I was done for. In life, there are poems that you read and poems that you see, and in this girl I saw something that neither Shakespeare nor Blake, even at the top of their games, ever could. She told me she was a new teller at the nearby Bank of America, then asked me for a daily stamp and placed a single dollar bill with three quarters on the counter. I stuttered like a teenager as I complied. This routine would repeat itself each day for almost two full weeks, before I finally worked up the nerve to ask her out. 

Now, for those bits of scripture: the first guided me when I was looking for love, the second saved me when my father died, the third was there to comfort me when our son was born eleven weeks prematurely and the last one whispered to me softly during our daughter’s adoption. You may wonder what any of this has to do with my 19th Wedding Anniversary. In truth, it has a lot to do with it. For if a marriage is like a piece of art, it only stands to reason that there will be certain moments that frame it. And though all love stories need their sweet and simple moments, the hard and tough moments have their place in the process too. Like the times when one of you is without faith, or loses a parent, or worse.

You see, for whatever reason, Maxime and I had both of our children, and then almost lost them. In each instance, despite support from our friends and family, we would primarily get through each day with just each other. It's in moments of crisis, you see, that you really learn if you've married well, and who you’re married to. I think my wife would agree that on September 9th,1995 we both said our vows and made a promise to God, but that also something else happened: He made a promise to us. To be there, to watch over us, to carry us and deliver us, to lift us up and love us, and He has been so very faithful. The hard moments may have framed our marriage at times, but as Maxime and I have done our best all these years to sketch the picture of our lives together, it's been God who has brought all the color, all the depth and all the perspective.

I still smile at the memory of the first time I met her, so long ago. It’s funny to think that something as simple as a daily parking stamp could lead to a lifetime with someone, isn't it? Or that beneath the brilliant Hermosa Beach sunshine that day, there would arrive, at the window of my little parking booth, such an immense blessing. Happy Anniversary Babe!