The Love of God

A new hospital is being built in our town. It is a much needed addition. Mercy is currently the worst hospital I have ever entered in the US. I have seen third world hospitals, and there is something about Mercy that feels third world. You go into a time warp. The shape of the elevators, the four bed rooms with people coughing and calling out all around feels like a foreign country, a foreign place, foreign.

When I walked into Susie’s room this morning she looked at me as if I was a foreigner. I could tell by the look in her swollen eyes that she didn’t recognize me. She spoke sweetly and knew she should know who I was but she couldn’t figure it out.

I sat down on the bed, took her hands in mine and said, “Hi Susie, it’s Pastor Olivia.” She immediately knew who I was then. She felt terrible that she couldn’t recognize me right off the bat. She was embarrassed. I wasn’t upset at all. After all, here she is in a foreign place—she’s used to being home. She has foreign substances coursing through her veins. She is under an unusual amount of stress because of the health problems she is facing. It didn’t bother me at all that I wasn’t recognized.

It wasn’t just me that wasn’t recognizable. As the conversation continued it was clear that her mind was not cooperating with her. She forgot names of family members. Tried to remember my husbands name and was frustrated that she could not. This was a different Susie than I know. Her behavior was foreign to me.

We visited for a while and I could tell that the pain medication was causing her to get drowsy so I figured I better wrap things up. I pulled out my purse Bible that I had marked to Romans 8. I unsnapped the worn leather cover and flipped through the delicate pages.

I read to Susie, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him who have been called according to His purpose…” She nodded her head and closed her eyes.

I kept on reading to the rise and fall of her breathing. “What, then, shall we say in response to this? If God is for us, who can be against us.” She gripped my hand rhythmically as I read. Her heart may be failing but her hand pumped mine in time, like a firmly beating heart.

“For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels or demons…” Her lips slowly moved, trying to follow along with me. “Neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, not anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us form the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

She opened her eyes, looked me squarely in the face, squeezed my hand and said, “Amen.”

In a place that seems so foreign, in situations that are uncomfortable and disquieting, in a locale that is filled with distractions the Word of God is familiar. Susie might not have ever recognized me but I know that she would have recognized the Word of God. When everything else was foreign around her, everything else was in shambles, when everything else was confusing, she knew, clearly, as plain as day that what I read to her was God’s Word. There is something comforting and comfortable about that. Right there in that hospital room, in our terrible facility, the Word of God was revealed as true. No pain medication, no circumstance, no illness could separate Susie from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus, and she knew it.

No, I Do It Like Daddy

My son Ethan is two and a half and fantastically potty trained. I thought it was going to be a nightmare when we started but I was wrong. It went well. It didn't take long. He even gets up in the night to go potty. That is good boy behavior but not good sleeping for me.

On the day in question he was in the nursery at church and he had to go. We have this tiny little toilet in there, tiny little thing. No adult should use it. I know from experience. It is so low to the ground that you think you might fall into a black hole before you finally find your resting place on it. That is probably too much information but I want you to picture that cute little tiny commode. It is so tiny. It was time to go and the nursery attendant got him ready to sit right down on the kid sized potty. But that wouldn't do. Even though that is what he always does, he wouldn't do it. No sitting for this little boy. No sitting today. Instead he said to her, "No, I do it like daddy."

We had a good laugh over that. Probably once again, too much information, but it is in little moments like this that suddenly my heart is stretched. "No, I do it like daddy" is funny coming out of the mouth of a little boy who wants to be a big boy. It is also powerful. It demonstrates the vast amount of trust, respect and awe that a little boy has for daddy. It reminds me of Jesus and how he talked about how his actions show us the face of the father. Jesus lived the perfect life of "doing it like daddy." Now, Jesus and God are one so it might feel a little bit like a no brainer that Jesus would be able to pull that off. But Jesus was also fully man, right. Fully man and fully God. I am fully human. But I have this God glimmer in me, this imago Dei, this Divine Spark that calls out in the midst of my life: "I wanna do it like Daddy. I wanna be like Jesus."

I talked on Sunday about the Shema and how when the Jewish people used the word "hear" it didn't just mean, "Listen up!" it meant "listen and then act." The most powerful thing I can do as a Christian is to listen to the Words of Jesus and then do them. I don't want to sit on my hands anymore. I don't want to wrestle with sin anymore. I don't want to objectify others, categorize people, or make judgement calls that are none of my business. I want to be like Jesus. I want to do what Jesus did. I want my trust in Him to be so strong, so deep, so rich that no matter where I am or what I am doing I will say, "No, I'm gonna do it like Jesus."

I got all of that from a little boy who wanted to pee like his dad, isn't God funny!