"Does anyone know where the love of God goes, when the waves turn the minutes to hours"Our former pastor at Westminster Presbyterian Church in Dayton, Ohio, The Reverend Dr. George H. "Sandy" McConnel, did an incredible sermon once with this haunting line from Gordon Lightfoot's song as one of the key elements. The song recounts a real life situation where people died in the wreck of a ship, but Sandy carried it forward to all of our lives. When we are waiting to hear the results of tests at the hospital. When we are waiting to hear whether the layoff will impact us. When we are waiting for one of our children to arrive home safely when they are on the road in a storm. When we are waiting for ....
There are so many situations where we wait and wonder and worry what the outcome will be. Unfortunately many of us have been facing that this week. Jim Campbell, one of my colleagues, had a massive stroke on Saturday. I got the call Saturday morning, and all of a sudden, my life changed completely. But, hold on a second. The impact on my life pales in comparison to the impact on his wife Anita's life, and everyone intimately involved in Jim's life. I could be selfish, and I admit, sometimes this week I have been, but I'm not the one who has suffered the most in all of this. As we leave the hospital each day, my wife Laurel and I count our blessing and think what so many of us often think - there but for the grace of God, go I.
Starting Saturday morning, Laurel and I have been going to the hospital to see Jim. We've spent a great deal of time with Anita and the rest of the family. You stand there and watch. You wait. You try to figure out, is anything changing? Is he getting any better? Wait, what was that? Did he move his eyes? Did he move his head? What does this mean? The hours go by. The days go by. What has changed? What will change? Where is the love of God as each minute, each hour, each day passes?
I have no right to be bitter. Anita has a right to be bitter. Their son Jeff has a right to be bitter. I'm sure there are others in the immediate family that are bitter. But as much as I don't have a right to be, I'm still a little bitter. Jim and I started working together about a year ago. He and I are very different. Jim is very conservative, very quiet, very private. It took forever for me to find out much about him. I finally found out or figured out about Jeff from hearing Jim on the phone with Jeff. I'd hear Jim take a call, and I'd always hear, "Hey buddy..." I started figuring out that it was Jim with his son Jeff, and I have to say I really enjoyed hearing those conversations. I hope that someday, my sons have those same type of conversations with me. But otherwise, I really didn't know much or hear much about Jim and his personal life. That was OK though, because Jim was a very solid, very capable performer. He was reliable, always got his job done, was very bright and efficient, I really couldn't ask much more from someone working for me. I had to periodically make sure I told him what a good job he was doing, because he was so "low maintenance". He took such little management or supervision, it was easy to forget to say, "hey, you're doing a good job Jim".
Over time, I got to know or figure out Jim a bit. The picture above is a photo shop picture his step-daughter Britney did for him. To say Jim is slightly more conservative than Ronald Reagan or George Bush may be an understatement. He and one of our colleagues, Cameron Reebals, could get going on a conservative rant, and it would be like a tornado of conservative propaganda would be swirling in the office. I'd love to get them going and I'd often say that Jim may burst into flames one of these days as he sat with his headphones on listening to one of the conservative talk show hosts on the radio. While Jim and I were different in many ways, I grew to appreciate him and enjoy his idiosyncrasies (OK who among us don't have some?). I knew that if I walked into his office, I'd hear about the Cap and Trade Bill, Healthcare Reform or whatever other evil the Democrats were bringing on the country. I'd just smile and nod and listen.
Over the past several days, I've learned so much more about Jim from Anita and the rest of the family. It has been an incredible experience getting to know all of them and learning so much about all of them and about Jim. Is this the positive out of all of this? I keep trying to figure out why this had to happen, what is God's plan for all of this? We stand and we wait. We talk, we laugh, we tell stories. We look over at Jim and wonder, where is the love of God? It has to be here, it has to be. I'm angry, I'm bitter. I still know, I have no right to be, but I don't care, I am. I feel guilty anytime I feel this way, because I see what this is doing to his family, and know I have no real right to feel this way, but it's hard not to feel this anger, this bitterness.
In the end, as Sandy so eloquently preached, God is always there, he is always with us. No matter what the situation, no matter what the tragedy, God is there, and he is suffering right along with us. So we wait. The minutes turn to hours turn to days. We wait for something, anything. And to steal yet again from one of Sandy's outstanding sermons, we hold out hope. Hope that is "faith pointed towards the future". Hope that is a "confident expectancy in a faithful and loving God". Hope that is "the expectation of a favorable future under God's direction". Hope that is "a rose in winter". We hold out hope for whatever potential positive God holds for us in the midst of this tragedy. We wait.
