I'd like to pose a question to my readers, whether you are a believer in Christ or not.
Let me just start by saying that I'm desperate for a vacation. I need time off and so does my wife. We haven't been on vacation in months, not since Christmas time and even then it was family time; not "us" time.
We both work for the government so we get Good Friday and Easter Monday off. This means a 4 day weekend -- the first long weekend we've had since Christmas/Boxing Day weekend, last year. 4 months ago. In 2008.
Now as Christians, Good Friday and Easter signifies the time when Jesus was crucified, dying for and washing away all of the sins we (and you) ever commit.
So is Easter a sacred day then? Should it be? Should we be planning for a vacation or a getaway during this very rare 4-day weekend?
And for non-Christians, how do you view Christians if they're willing to spend the holiest of holy days shopping, or lying on a beach? Do you have friends who are always talking to you about the real meaning of Christmas and Easter, and yet they go on vacation during these times of the year and that puzzles you? Would you respect Christians and their religion any less if you knew this was happening, and you use this as ammunition towards proof that Christians are all hypocrites?
Showing posts with label Christianity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christianity. Show all posts
March 27, 2009
October 26, 2007
Grief
For Christians, when a person dies there is two or three things that come to mind. One, is that God has decided to bring that person home. Another, is a wonderment of why God decided to take that person away from you. Third, is the human side, the pain and the grief of losing someone.
Last night, I came home exhausted at 9pm and laid down on the couch to relax and watch the World Series. My mom has been in town for the last 3 weeks and will be here for another week. She's been such a blessing for Darryl and I, we've had home cooking for the past 3 weeks. You wouldn't believe how much money I've saved on food. Not to mention the food is just better. I wonder if 30 years from now my son or daughter will come visit Ina and I and be grateful for our cooking. I find that really hard to believe. Neither of us can cooking particularly well. And yet "great home cooked meal" seems to be a constant for all generations. I guess that means my cooking skills are going to improve drastically in the next 20 years... Anyway, about my mom, she was planning to take a trip to Syracuse for the weekend, to visit some old college friends that she hadn't seen in a few years.
Boston had just taken the lead on a two-out double by Mike Lowell and I was pumping my fist in celebration. The Leafs had just beaten my Penguins and I needed something to lift my spirits. Mom couldn't understand what I was celebrating about, and went back to her room to do whatever moms do. After a little while I heard her say "Oooh!". I called out to her "What happened?", and then I heard two words. "Jean died.". There was a crack in her voice.
Brian: "Oh." Brain: "OH!".
It took about 3 seconds to register and that's when I jumped to my feet and raced over to comfort my mom, who was sobbing by the time I got there.
I remember as far back as age 6 or 7, when our family used to go over to Uncle Albert and Auntie Jean's home for fellowship. My parents were in a cell group with a few other parents that I probably wouldn't be able to name, but all of whom are likely going to be at my wedding next spring. At that time their youngest daughter Ruth probably wasn't even born yet. Rachel was around my age and her older sister Lynn was around a year or two older.
My parents went to visit her when they were here back in March. I guess they had given Uncle Albert my phone number, because after the car accident in May, he called me up to see if I was okay. He knew all about it I guess through my parents, and also even asked about how Ina was doing. It really took me by surprise because the last time I had talked to Uncle Albert was probably about 7-8 years ago. Probably one of my fondest memories of Auntie Jean was just how she always remembered things about me. All of my parents' other friends would ask me the same old things like how's school, how's your brother, things like that. But Auntie Jean always picked out specific things to ask me and so you could tell she wasn't just talking to me because I was my parents kid, she actually cared about me and how I was doing. As we got older we saw that family less and less, but whenever we did visit she'd remember me, and talk about the old days, she was a very nice lady, very kind and very loving.
Auntie Jean was diagnosed with cancer about a year ago. But I guess because I hadn't seen them in so long, it didn't affect me the way it might have, had it been someone who was 'currently' close to me. I prayed for her off and on, but most of the time I just forgot. Sometimes you just forget, when there's so much in the world to pray for.
I don't know about you guys but when I see either of my parents cry, that is a real tear jerker right there. Nothing can really prepare you to see your parents cry. I guess we are just wired that way -- we're so close to our parents that, when they feel something you feel it too, even if you shouldn't. Seeing my mom devastated by the news made it a whole lot worse for me than it really was.
You just know that none of that is helping her emotionally, because you've also lost a loved one before and none of those statements helped you feel any better either.
After hugging my mom for about 5-10 minutes, she finally stopped crying. I never know what to say to people when they're crying and dealing with grief. Crying for physical pain is a little easier to comfort, or because you hurt their feelings, that's all about just saying sorry and hugging them. But for grief, a loss of a life, that's hard. There's always those token phrases that you know just doesn't help at all, like "She is in a better place.", or "She died peacefully.", or "Don't worry we will all see her again some day.."
Mom muttered something about how she had wanted to go see her but Jean had asked that no one come visit her because she wanted them to remember her as she was, and not as she is. Then she sobbed some more and then told me how they were expecting their first grandchild in 2 weeks. Damn.
When I got back to the couch and started to think about how close Jean and Albert were to her and what it might be like for me, how could I understand or wrap my head around how she was feeling. I really wanted to empathize with those affected by this huge loss. I thought about some of our (Ina and I) closer friends, like Stan and Yee Lee, Nancy and Duncan, and how it might be like if one of them died. We've known these people for on average 5-6 years, and have grown really close to them over the past year, but my parents had been friends with Jean and Albert for 25 years. Imagining the magnitude of friendship from that standpoint fast forwarded me to the reality my mom was dealing with.
It also made me think about Jean's 3 daughters and husband, and 2 son-in-laws, and how they were feeling at this particular moment. Jean was expecting her first grandchild, due in 2 weeks. She died peacefully, with her husband and youngest daughter by her side.
These emotions stirred inside me as I prayed the night away. Grief.
Last night, I came home exhausted at 9pm and laid down on the couch to relax and watch the World Series. My mom has been in town for the last 3 weeks and will be here for another week. She's been such a blessing for Darryl and I, we've had home cooking for the past 3 weeks. You wouldn't believe how much money I've saved on food. Not to mention the food is just better. I wonder if 30 years from now my son or daughter will come visit Ina and I and be grateful for our cooking. I find that really hard to believe. Neither of us can cooking particularly well. And yet "great home cooked meal" seems to be a constant for all generations. I guess that means my cooking skills are going to improve drastically in the next 20 years... Anyway, about my mom, she was planning to take a trip to Syracuse for the weekend, to visit some old college friends that she hadn't seen in a few years.
Boston had just taken the lead on a two-out double by Mike Lowell and I was pumping my fist in celebration. The Leafs had just beaten my Penguins and I needed something to lift my spirits. Mom couldn't understand what I was celebrating about, and went back to her room to do whatever moms do. After a little while I heard her say "Oooh!". I called out to her "What happened?", and then I heard two words. "Jean died.". There was a crack in her voice.
Brian: "Oh." Brain: "OH!".
It took about 3 seconds to register and that's when I jumped to my feet and raced over to comfort my mom, who was sobbing by the time I got there.
I remember as far back as age 6 or 7, when our family used to go over to Uncle Albert and Auntie Jean's home for fellowship. My parents were in a cell group with a few other parents that I probably wouldn't be able to name, but all of whom are likely going to be at my wedding next spring. At that time their youngest daughter Ruth probably wasn't even born yet. Rachel was around my age and her older sister Lynn was around a year or two older.
My parents went to visit her when they were here back in March. I guess they had given Uncle Albert my phone number, because after the car accident in May, he called me up to see if I was okay. He knew all about it I guess through my parents, and also even asked about how Ina was doing. It really took me by surprise because the last time I had talked to Uncle Albert was probably about 7-8 years ago. Probably one of my fondest memories of Auntie Jean was just how she always remembered things about me. All of my parents' other friends would ask me the same old things like how's school, how's your brother, things like that. But Auntie Jean always picked out specific things to ask me and so you could tell she wasn't just talking to me because I was my parents kid, she actually cared about me and how I was doing. As we got older we saw that family less and less, but whenever we did visit she'd remember me, and talk about the old days, she was a very nice lady, very kind and very loving.
Auntie Jean was diagnosed with cancer about a year ago. But I guess because I hadn't seen them in so long, it didn't affect me the way it might have, had it been someone who was 'currently' close to me. I prayed for her off and on, but most of the time I just forgot. Sometimes you just forget, when there's so much in the world to pray for.
I don't know about you guys but when I see either of my parents cry, that is a real tear jerker right there. Nothing can really prepare you to see your parents cry. I guess we are just wired that way -- we're so close to our parents that, when they feel something you feel it too, even if you shouldn't. Seeing my mom devastated by the news made it a whole lot worse for me than it really was.
You just know that none of that is helping her emotionally, because you've also lost a loved one before and none of those statements helped you feel any better either.
After hugging my mom for about 5-10 minutes, she finally stopped crying. I never know what to say to people when they're crying and dealing with grief. Crying for physical pain is a little easier to comfort, or because you hurt their feelings, that's all about just saying sorry and hugging them. But for grief, a loss of a life, that's hard. There's always those token phrases that you know just doesn't help at all, like "She is in a better place.", or "She died peacefully.", or "Don't worry we will all see her again some day.."
Mom muttered something about how she had wanted to go see her but Jean had asked that no one come visit her because she wanted them to remember her as she was, and not as she is. Then she sobbed some more and then told me how they were expecting their first grandchild in 2 weeks. Damn.
When I got back to the couch and started to think about how close Jean and Albert were to her and what it might be like for me, how could I understand or wrap my head around how she was feeling. I really wanted to empathize with those affected by this huge loss. I thought about some of our (Ina and I) closer friends, like Stan and Yee Lee, Nancy and Duncan, and how it might be like if one of them died. We've known these people for on average 5-6 years, and have grown really close to them over the past year, but my parents had been friends with Jean and Albert for 25 years. Imagining the magnitude of friendship from that standpoint fast forwarded me to the reality my mom was dealing with.
It also made me think about Jean's 3 daughters and husband, and 2 son-in-laws, and how they were feeling at this particular moment. Jean was expecting her first grandchild, due in 2 weeks. She died peacefully, with her husband and youngest daughter by her side.
These emotions stirred inside me as I prayed the night away. Grief.
September 07, 2007
The first
People like to be first. They want to get things first. Like a new DVD, or a new gadget. Someone would say "Hey, that's a great phone, but I got it first." People line up for hours so that they can be the first to see a new movie, so that they can tell their friends "Nah, I saw that one already. I saw it first." Or to be first to get into the arena get a great seat.
Of course everyone wants to be first. They want to win, and get that coveted first prize. First in your class. First to graduate. In piano I would always strive to get that "First Class Honors" grade. In violin, you want to be first chair.
As I approached a red light on the road, I slowed my car down and this guy sped past me and cut me off. He wanted to be first. First in line baby. He sure showed me a thing or two.
Second is just no good. And heaven forbid you come in third. People want to be first so badly, that someone who came in second came up with a silly rhyme so they wouldn't feel bad about not coming in first.
A teacher asks a question and a bunch of little hands shoot right up into the air. "Me! Me! Pick me, I was first!". And what an honor it used to be, getting picked first during a game of kickball at recess time. It makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
"Let me be the first to congratulate you on.."
Jacob went to great lengths to fool his own father that he was first.
Parents gather around, patiently awaiting their child's first word. First step! The first 5000 people in the arena will receive a free bobble-head. Sorry, you don't get a bobble-head, you weren't first. I cried tears of joy last year when Toronto was awarded the first overall pick of the 2006 NBA Draft.
It's a wonder to me, after a life of wanting to be first, we don't strive to be better Christians, we don't strive to be first where it actually matters.
We rush through our entire lives, trying to achieve first place in all that we do, but when it comes to pleasing our God, we're satisfied with just being where we are. Myself included. Are we being too complacent?
You won't see me trying to cut in line to signup for Sunday School.
Here's a signup sheet for prayer ministry. Who wants to sign up? Who wants to be first on the list? No one's signing up. There isn't even a lineup.
Sunday Service ends, everyone rushes out of the sanctuary, trying to be first in line for snacks. Let me grab a cup so I can scoop more cheese sticks than you. Hey, what are you doing? I was first. Here it comes..
We really don't know what do with ourselves though, do we? God chose us. God picked us first. But how do we respond? God's God. I mean, we're just a bunch of human beings rush from one place to another. Let someone else be first. How can we pick God first anyway, amongst all the other important things in our lives? God's everywhere and around all the time, so He won't mind. He's God.
I'll catch you later, God.. I've got things to do in the meantime.
Of course everyone wants to be first. They want to win, and get that coveted first prize. First in your class. First to graduate. In piano I would always strive to get that "First Class Honors" grade. In violin, you want to be first chair.
As I approached a red light on the road, I slowed my car down and this guy sped past me and cut me off. He wanted to be first. First in line baby. He sure showed me a thing or two.
Second is just no good. And heaven forbid you come in third. People want to be first so badly, that someone who came in second came up with a silly rhyme so they wouldn't feel bad about not coming in first.
A teacher asks a question and a bunch of little hands shoot right up into the air. "Me! Me! Pick me, I was first!". And what an honor it used to be, getting picked first during a game of kickball at recess time. It makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
"Let me be the first to congratulate you on.."
Jacob went to great lengths to fool his own father that he was first.
Parents gather around, patiently awaiting their child's first word. First step! The first 5000 people in the arena will receive a free bobble-head. Sorry, you don't get a bobble-head, you weren't first. I cried tears of joy last year when Toronto was awarded the first overall pick of the 2006 NBA Draft.
It's a wonder to me, after a life of wanting to be first, we don't strive to be better Christians, we don't strive to be first where it actually matters.
We rush through our entire lives, trying to achieve first place in all that we do, but when it comes to pleasing our God, we're satisfied with just being where we are. Myself included. Are we being too complacent?
You won't see me trying to cut in line to signup for Sunday School.
Here's a signup sheet for prayer ministry. Who wants to sign up? Who wants to be first on the list? No one's signing up. There isn't even a lineup.
Sunday Service ends, everyone rushes out of the sanctuary, trying to be first in line for snacks. Let me grab a cup so I can scoop more cheese sticks than you. Hey, what are you doing? I was first. Here it comes..
We really don't know what do with ourselves though, do we? God chose us. God picked us first. But how do we respond? God's God. I mean, we're just a bunch of human beings rush from one place to another. Let someone else be first. How can we pick God first anyway, amongst all the other important things in our lives? God's everywhere and around all the time, so He won't mind. He's God.
I'll catch you later, God.. I've got things to do in the meantime.
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