Things I’ll Miss

One of the realities of terminal cancer is that things change permanently and things are lost. To be honest with ourselves we need to think about who we’ll miss and what we’ll miss.

I’m not sure that I want to detail the things I’m gonna miss. It’s too easy to become maudlin and sad. In truth, I’m looking forward to singing with the angels and other members of the heavenly worship band. I think my wife Beth will be jealous.

What I will miss is a long list. I try not to think about it too much otherwise my eyes start to leak, as one grandchild once said. I prefer to concentrate on who I can see now and what I can do in the coming months.

Since my diagnosis I’ve really been at peace . . . most of the time. Now and then there are bouts of sadness as I consider who I’ll leave behind. I love my family and there is always so much more that can be said and shared with each of them. I’ll miss my grandchildren growing up. I’ll miss graduations, performances, weddings and great-grandchildren.

I always pictured myself enjoying the special events in my family’s life. I was looking forward to attending my grandchildren’s high school graduations. I thought I’d be as proud over their college graduations as I was over my children’s graduations. I wanted to enjoy the celebration of their weddings with the whole family. But that isn’t going to happen. I’m sorry, y’all but that just isn’t in the life God has provided me.

Alongside my immediate family I’ll miss my extended family, aka my two older brothers. One brother said during a conversation, he always thought I’d be the last and not the first to go. But sometimes, things don’t work out the way we think they should. I’ll miss their occasional conversations on the phone. I’ll miss watching or celebrating their children’s special events. I’ll miss the few times we could visit. (I’m on the east coast, one is in central Tennessee and one in California. We don’t get together too often.)

I’ll miss my ministry with TWR. Over the years I’ve had ups and downs with the ministry but always rejoiced at bringing the Gospel message to the world. Even when I griped and complained I did love my work. I’ll miss reading a response from someone who became part of my heavenly family because I pressed a button somewhere to bring God’s message of grace, love and salvation into their lives.

I’m going to miss participating in music. Music has been a major and vital part of my life since I was little. I’ve led music, sung music, directed music, written music and cried at those perfectly composed pieces. In the last couple years I had to give up my music as my fingers wouldn’t respond and my voice failed. Now until the end, I listen as I’ve never listened before and squawk out some songs now and then in the privacy of my home. Until that day comes I’m going to miss praising God in music even though I’ll be joining in a heavenly band before God’s throne.

I know, on the other hand, I’ll be rejoicing in heaven. People often misquote a verse in Revelation about tears. In songs, sermons and while encouraging others, people say, “There’ll be no tears in heaven.” But they’re wrong. There will be tears.

The verse actually says: “He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever.” (Revelation 21:4 NLT)

Just think about it a moment. I’ve been writing about the people, events, things I’ll miss when I die. While I may not cry over them in this life, I’m convinced that sorrow and joy will take their toll in heaven. I think this is why there are tears for God to wipe away. I’ll cry over these things. I’ll cry over the choices I made which hurt others. I’ll cry over those who don’t know or accept the grace and love of God. I’ll cry over missing my wife.

I will also shed tears of joy in heaven. And this same joy will also well up in me as I think of loved ones still on the old earth not having experienced the wonders of heaven, which will be greater than anything I can imagine before death. I believe these are things which I may cry over before and definitely after death.

I’m thrilled God understands. He knows what I’ll miss and what will tug so desperately at my heart. He knows I need to cry for a time. And, He knows when my crying will be enough to wipe away those tears that I might rejoice for eternity and cry no more.

Enough of this topic before I start crying and short out my keyboard with my tears. Tears are good. Don’t be afraid to cry as necessary and then move onward.

Lost Things

“I permitted Myself to be sought by those who did not ask for Me; I permitted Myself to be found by those who did not seek Me. I said, ‘Here am I, here am I,’ To a nation which did not call on My name.” (Isaiah 65:1 NASB)

Have you ever lost something? I have, many things. Have you ever, years later, found something you thought was long lost and gone? I have, usually when I’m packing to move to a new home. Fortunately, moving doesn’t happen too often.

If starts like this: I’m not looking for an item in particular, just going through things, when something catches my attention. I stop and look closely at the new found treasure. Actually it’s something old, something lost a long time ago, usually something I didn’t remember I had. Sometimes it’s a delight and I rejoice. Sometimes it’s nothing and is promptly tossed in the bin. And sometimes, it’s a reminder stirring emotions I thought were long gone.

A couple months ago I was organizing my library. I have a couple friends who are professional librarians. They would be aghast at the lack of the Dewey Decimal system in my library. I don’t use numbers and often the titles are upside down. My standard librarian skill involves putting the books wherever there is space. This served me well for years but finally, in order to find things, I had to create some sort of organization.

I simply alphabetized the books, my apologies to Mr. Dewey, and found a couple volumes I needed to re-read and some I had never read. I set them aside to work through them at a later date. I always keep a stack of books waiting to fill that elusive spare time. A few weeks later I took one off the top of the stack. I rifled through the pages. Suddenly I found an old boarding pass ferreted away between the pages. I yanked it out, like removing advertising from a new magazine, ready to toss it in the bin. Then I stopped and read the faded printing. Unexpectedly I was flooded with memories.

The faded printing read, January 20, 1988. That was the flight date. Northwest flight 004 from Chicago to Narita, Japan. It was a fifteen-hour flight cramped into seat 23G. Economy class, affectionately known as Cattle Car, provided my 500 mph seat. This was the second of three legs to return to the mission field. I was returning from my father’s funeral. I remember the flight was long, cramped and lonely. I was trying to reorder my life at 35,000 feet.

“Living Above the Level of Mediocrity” was the book title where I found the boarding pass. I was reading the book when I heard the news and took the flight back the USA for the funeral. It was a gift I received just weeks before at Christmas. I took it along, knowing full well I wouldn’t read on the airplane and probably not find time to read at my parent’s home. With chapter titles such as, “Standing Firm when Discouraged,” Standing Tall when Tested,” it was perfect timing. I never finished reading the book.

Seventeen years later my thoughts returned to that January as I held and read the fading data on the colorful boarding pass. Sometimes, it takes a simple reminder to recall cherished things we miss. Regular letters from home, sharing my Dad’s thoughts, occasional phone calls just to keep in touch, long chats when we visited on furlough, all these came to mind and I missed them. They were part of my life and me. I held the paper in my hand and smiled. There was joy in finding the boarding pass.

As members of the human race we’re born and some things are already lost. We’re lost in sin we inherited from our forefathers who inherited it from their forefathers, ad infinitum. In our scurrying about in darkness God was lost to us. But God changed all that. Light came into the darkness and God allowed Himself to be found. Oh the joy in finding the God of grace.

When we repented and received God’s gracious gift of salvation, we remembered cherished things we missed. Reading God’s letters sharing His thoughts, hearing Him as He responds to our prayers, long conversations when He reveals His love for us, all these are found in that priceless gift of faith. Oh the depth of joy in the finding.

After I found the boarding pass, I was more alert to see what else might be hiding in an unfrequented binding. Sorting through old boxes I looked carefully to discover that unobtrusive slip of paper, that small memento, that special rock picked up along the way. I started flipping through the pages of other books I hadn’t opened in years. I was hunting for another memory, sad or happy, it didn’t matter. It was the reminder I wanted to find.

There are photos adorning our walls as reminders of people and places and events. I like to stand and stare while I remember and relive things long gone. But, it’s often the small, unexpected, tucked away treasure we find, by accident, that brings the greatest joy and most touching memory.

Gallivanting through Scripture keeps us mindful of God’s precepts, God’s grace and God’s plan for our redemption. But, it’s often in that one verse, seen over and over, that we unexpectedly find a treasure we didn’t realize was there. While looking for a specific passage we stop and unintentionally read another verse along the way. The words suddenly jump out at us to remind us of God’s work in our life and how precious our relationship is with Him.

Sometimes we need to slow down and look more carefully. We need to turn the page unhurriedly. We need to insure our goal doesn’t distract us from the treasure along the roadside. Next time we read God’s letters to us, will we hurry to reach the end or, take our time and see if a new nugget of wonder will make itself found. I once was lost but now I’m found! I’m glad God didn’t rush by but stopped to find me, hold me in his hands and smile.