It is humbling. It is frantic. It is bewildering. It is also unifying because we all have felt it at one time or another. This week it has slapped me in the face four difference times. It is only four words, but you have been there and you know exactly what I am talking about.

          I feel so helpless.

          Monday started like Monday. Routine can be mind numbing, but there are worse things than routine. Like, sometimes, a phone call. This phone call went way beyond routine.

          Keith and I met when we were three. We became best buds. We grew up together. We did everything together. He has a brother, but Keith and I were closer than he and his brother. Went hunting, fishing, swimming down at the river. We worked together. Almost died together on an ill timed rabbit hunting expedition. He was somewhat small and frail, not sickly, just very slight in build. There were times I protected him. On the other hand, I would have never gotten through algebra if it hadn’t been for him. We never thought anything of it. It was just how we got through childhood.

          The phone call informed me that Keith was in Cleveland Clinic. He has pulmonary fibrosis. This is a severe scarring of the lungs. Less than one tenth of one percent of the population ever gets it. Oddly, Keith is the third person I have known to contract this disease. They don’t really know what causes it. Keith never smoked. Never worked around noxious chemicals, nothing like that. The scarring prevents the lungs from expanding and it hinders the passing of oxygen to the blood. Basically, it gradually chokes you to death. There is no cure. It is not common enough for much research to be done. Sometimes the symptoms can be managed, but it will eventually take your life. Cleveland Clinic is the best place for him to be.

          The call ended. I have to go to Cleveland for a few days! Gotta see Keith! Tell him again about Jesus! I have to….Wait. Hold on. You can’t even enter the building, much less go up and see him. This is COVID time, and Ohio is more stringent than Indiana. I could sit in the parking lot and call him, but I could do that from home. I have to go see him! But I cannot.

          I feel so helpless.

          So I call him. “Larry! Oh my gosh! They tell me I’m going to die, man! Larry, I am so scared!” I used to protect him. Can’t this time. I grew up and surprised everyone by going into the ministry. I did the funerals for Keith’s Dad first, and then his Mom. I was always the guy with answers. Not this time. No help from the old friend. “Larry, I feel so helpless.”

          Tuesday I get another call. I didn’t want any more calls. I had enough to deal with emotionally. But there are some people who have a special place in my life. This lady had been in my Youth group years ago. She still has a chunk of my heart. I needed a friend and I welcomed this call. However, she needed me more than I needed her. Her daughter has done something remarkably foolish. No, that isn’t right. Her daughter has done something beyond that. What this former Youth told me so shocked me that it took me a bit to recover. She, my former Youth, is so devastated she can hardly think. She went from everything being normal to suddenly everything being ripped apart. So, when these things happen, you call the one person who has always helped you make sense of things. Only this time it doesn’t work. In a small voice that was breaking I hear her say, “I feel so helpless.”

          Now there are two places I want to be in. I want to go and sit next to a hospital bed and tell my old bud about Jesus. I also want to go and take this special Youth out to dinner and try to walk her through her emotions. These are things I can do. God has given me a skill not everyone has. But I can’t do anything. All I can do is just a phone call.

          And then, another call.

          Tuesday afternoon. Phone goes off. It startles me. I look at it.

          You grow up in a small town, you know everything about everyone. But there are some who are just great friends, male and female. This was one of the female variety. Such a good friend as we grew up. We have a history, and most of it involves laughter. Obviously, she would be calling. Going to tell me about Keith.

          I answer. Small voice. Family member dying. Shouldn’t be this way. What am I going to do? “Good night, Larry, I feel so helpless.”

          But it was this third call where I found my answer. Keith came to Christ at his mother’s funeral when I encouraged anyone there who didn’t know if they would go to heaven when they died, to settle that right then. My former Youth had been saved before I ever met her, but during Youth group she began to see how Christ can really be a part of your daily life. And this woman whom I have known since, well, almost as long as I have known Keith, came to Christ at a tent revival I dragged her off to way back when. Not only did each of them feel helpless over their current situation, but I did, as well. I couldn’t help them! But as this strong and independent woman told me, in that lost, little girl voice, that she felt helpless, the answer came to me.

          “You know, my sweetheart, we never think to bring out the big gun until we try everything else we can think of.” “Uh, what?” “What I am talking about is that the most amazing thing we have is prayer, but you haven’t even said anything about that. Tell you what. Right now we are going to pray over this and I promise you that I am going to keep this in prayer. OK?”

          COVID has made us feel helpless. Circumstances make us feel helpless. The inability to fix a problem makes us feel helpless. Coy, Paxton, Max, Orville, Dan, Dean, Lois, Esther, Doris…..well, the list goes on. Add any name. Someone we love with an illness or foolish decisions or living a life away from Christ. So many things we cannot overcome. But we have an answer. I seriously wonder how people get by without the Lord.

          I feel so helpless.

          Bring out the big gun.   

           

 

         This is an extra blog. Sometimes something comes along that just won’t wait until the Friday blog, and this is one of those times.

         This past week our sign maker, Carla Krom, waded through the snow and endured the cold to put a new sign up. I told her she didn’t need to do that, she’s short and we could easily lose her in the deep snow, but she got it changed. Her signs are always good and we get a lot of good responses to her signs, but this one for this week is thought provoking for any believer. It says, simply, WILL ANYONE BE IN HEAVEN BECAUSE OF YOU?

         For a Christian, I don’t think there is any question more to the point. We can do lots of things and be known for our accomplishments and our stands, but if we, as Christians, have not shown the way to heaven for people, have we succeeded? People see, and are affected, by what we do. Every move, every word, every deed. What will your impact be?

         There is a song by Ray Boltz that is one of the most powerful songs I have heard. It brings home to me the need to always do as Jesus would do. People may be impressed by your home or your vehicles or the other things you populate your life with, but that really doesn’t matter even a little. What matters is, did you show them Jesus.

         Following are the words to the song. I am sorry you cannot hear the music, but most of the song is spoken, anyway. Just read the words and imagine yourself just entering into glory.

 

Thank You

by Ray Boltz

 

Last night I dreamed I went to heaven

And you were there with me
We walked upon the streets of gold
Beside the crystal sea
We heard the angels singing
Then someone called your name
You turned and saw this young man
And he was smiling as he came
And he said friend you may not know me now
And then he said but wait
You used to teach my Sunday School
When I was only eight
And every week you would say a prayer
Before the class would start
And one day when you said that prayer
I asked Jesus in my heart
Thank you for giving to the Lord

I am a life that was changed

Thank you for giving to the Lord
I am so glad you gave

Then another man stood before you
And said remember the time

A missionary came to your church
And his pictures made you cry
You didn't have much money
But you gave it anyway
Jesus took the gift you gave
And that's why I'm here today

Thank you for giving to the Lord
I am a life that was changed

Thank you for giving to the Lord

I am so glad you gave

One by one they came
Far as the eyes could see
Each life somehow touched
By your generosity
Little things that you had done
Sacrifices made
Unnoticed on the earth

In heaven now proclaimed
And I know that up in heaven
You're not supposed to cry
But I am almost sure
There were tears in your eyes
As Jesus took your hand
And you stood before the Lord
He said, my child look around you

For great is your reward

 

Thank you for giving to the Lord
I am a life that was changed
Thank you for giving to the Lord
I am so glad you gave
Thank you for giving to the Lord
I am a life that was changed
Thank you for giving to the Lord
I am so glad you gave
I am so glad you gave...

           Today I am going to make some of you angry at me because I am going to begin by expressing an opinion different from yours. This is what America has become. If someone disagrees with you then they are evil. They need to be shouted at and mocked. Among those harboring liberal tendencies there is no room for thought contrary to their own. Which is nonsense and which is not reflective of the country I grew up in. So, let’s do this; you react to my opinion in exactly the way you know I would react to your opinion if it differed from mine. You can shout at me exactly as much as you know I would shout at you and you can hold me in exactly as low esteem as you know I would hold you. Or, you could love me exactly as much as you know I love you.

Personally, I don’t really think that the COVID mask makes much difference. If you can smell cooking or fragrance through the mask, how can it really be helping against a virus? But that is just me. I wear a mask where it is required and at other times to put people at ease. I think being six feet apart helps more, but then I generally don’t like to get closer than that to people I don’t know, anyway. We have been bombarded for a year now with ways to survive this virus. Most people are good and tired of it all.

          It is almost as though the government and the news media have forgotten that there are other ways to die. Some are simply not preventable. Cancer, diabetes, kidney failure…that list is almost endless. Acts of God in nature. This last week there were people who died from a tornado in North Carolina. Who expects a tornado in February? There were some who died of hypothermia around Dallas from this week’s cold snap. Imagine, freezing to death in Dallas. President Trump pushed drug manufacturers to the limit to come up with a COVID vaccine, and that seems to have worked, but it causes us to wonder why diseases that have been around forever have not been treated the same way.

          Good efforts have been made to keep us safe. Four years ago, when I rolled my car over, air bags went off all over the car. Had I been conscious I am sure I would have been impressed. Seat belts save lives. Bicycle helmets save lives. Billions, probably trillions of dollars each year are poured into preventative ways to save lives.

          Yet, people die from things all the time and no one gets overly alarmed, unless it is one of their loved ones. I cannot help but wonder how much time and effort and money has gone into fighting COVID-19.

          Education helps. There are certain physical symptoms that alert us to various illnesses and diseases. Many know the symptoms of heart disease or cancer or diabetes or the various autoimmune diseases. We know a lot about these things and can react to them. Untold amounts of money have been poured into these efforts and we do have knowledge.

          But there is something worse out there. Something many think they understand. There isn’t much money spent. Of the front line workers in the field, many are volunteers and have been spottily trained. We mostly turn a blind eye because the news media ignores it until someone famous dies. We all know it is out there, but it is taboo.

          As clergy attached to a funeral home, I dealt with this killer more than you can imagine. Working with affected families, helping them through the nightmare is horrible. How did this happen? What caused this? Did someone do or say something?

          Suicide is the tenth leading cause of death in this country. Did you know that? In 2019, 69% of all suicides were white males. The suicide rate is highest among middle aged white men. It used to be highest among teens, but not anymore. There are 3,780 suicide attempts a day in this country, right near 1,380,000 attempts a year. 47,511 of those attempts are successful, but even an unsuccessful attempt is devastating. Someone flinches just as they pull the trigger and the bullet doesn’t kill, but maybe maims them for life. Maybe the overdose doesn’t kill the body, but does kill the brain. The noose isn’t tight enough to take the person’s life but it is tight enough to cut the blood flow to the brain leaves the person in a vegetative state. I saw a man in a hospital once who took a power drill to his head. When the bit hit his brain, he spasmed and dropped the drill. He didn’t die, but he would follow you with his eyes. He wasn’t able to ever move again, but I wondered if his brain was still active in his still body.

          Now, you are thinking that you really do not want to deal with this kind of a thing. You are thinking that these people have let the stresses of the world get to them, that they are weak, that when things get hard, they should go to the Lord. But there are things at work here you don’t understand. I have known Christians who killed themselves. People who have it all together. People who are enjoying life. And I have known people who have been in the throes of depression who have either taken, or tried to take, their own lives. You know the symptoms of a heart attack. What are the symptoms leading up to a suicide attempt?

          One mother, trying to come to grips with her 40 year old daughter’s suicide told me in a choking voice that there was never any sign, she never talked about it, she seemed happy and fulfilled. I had to tell her that often those who talk about it are looking for attention. Many times, suicide happens with someone who has never expressed a desire to end their lives.

          And sometimes you do get lucky. Our nephew committed suicide in 1998. I talked about it in church and got a mite emotional. I asked the kids to not ever make me do their funerals. That next week several came to me, all at different times, and told me that they had been considering suicide, but they wouldn’t now because I had asked them not too. Once I talk a man into giving me the gun. And then sometimes you lose. I opened the body bag to reveal a freshman college student I had known since he was in the fourth grade.

          I guess where this is coming from is that I see people have complied and followed directives and we are being told that there is still more to come. Meanwhile, something as mind numbing as suicide is ignored. I don’t know how much has been spent on suicide prevention. I imagine the billboards you see from time to time giving a number to call if you feel suicidal costs something.  

          The Center for Disease Control tells us that as of February 18, there have been 488,648 COVID-19 deaths since the pandemic began. That is a lot. But, as the vaccines take hold and herd immunity begins to take effect, that number will decrease. I dealt with my first suicide in 1987. If there have been 40,000 suicides a year since (and that is a low estimate), that means there have been 1,360,000 suicides in that time. And that is just America. Suicides happen all around the world. The Asian countries lead the way. Is that a pandemic? And what about the failed attempts that have ruined lives? What about the millions and millions of family members who are left with broken hearts and a thousand questions? Is that pandemic enough?

          One of my jobs at the funeral home was to get their at 7 AM and check the new arrivals in from over night. One morning I opened the body bag to find the aforementioned 40 year old woman. I read the paperwork. Single gunshot wound. Back of the mouth. No exit wound out the back of the head. No drugs, no alcohol, no previous indications of suicidal tendencies. No one else in the home at the time of death. She looked like she was asleep. For only the second time since I had been at the funeral home, I sat down and cried.

          COVID-19 has been politicized, weaponized and demonized. We hide away for fear of catching the virus. I don’t want anyone to get sick. I don’t want anyone to die. But I see people trading living for staying alive, and given the numbers, I don’t know if that is a fair trade. Well less than 10% of the population of the country have even been confirmed to have COVID-19, much less have died from it. There are things far scarier than COVID-19, and we turn a blind eye.

          The media and the politicians are pointing us in the direction they want us to go. Imagine if they put all that energy into bringing attention to and fixing some of our long term issues.  

 

          It has happened and I never saw it coming.

          I am old. It is now official.

          I know what you are thinking. “Didn’t the gray hair give you a clue?” No, not really. I started to turn gray in high school. “How about the bald spot?” OK, OK. I know it is more than a ‘spot.’ More like a baseball infield. But, again, no. It started to thin in high school. “Aches and pains? No clue there?” Hey, I was married for over 40 years. I have a son. I have been in ministry for over 40 years…..I have always known pain. Really, this sudden leap into geriatric purgatory grabbed me from behind.

          It all hit me this week.

          I went into the post office to get my mail. The usual assortment of bills and flyers. A couple of heartfelt letters from companies that I have never bought anything from, but I am still a valued customer and deserve their very special deal. In amongst all of it was a large, stiff envelope. Because it was larger than the rest of the mail, I looked at it first. It was from the State of Indiana. Specifically, the State Senate.

          I have gotten communications from the State of Indiana before. On a regular basis I get this thing from the BMV telling me it is time to renew my license plates and registration. A couple of years ago I got a notice from the State Taxation department telling me I had made a mistake on my tax return and owed an additional $200. As I looked at the envelope, I thought about these things. “Wow! How much could I possible owe the State Senate? I must be in a serious hole.”

          I went back to the church and sat down in the office. I opened the envelope from the Indiana State Senate in Indianapolis.

          Inside was a piece of cardboard as large as the envelope. That was why the envelope was stiff. The cardboard was protecting a sheet of paper. I looked at it. It was a certificate.

          “STATE OF INDIANA  Indiana Senate  Certificate of Congratulations to Larry Wade On the occasion of your 65^th Birthday!  I hope this time of celebration brings many happy moments for you to treasure with those you love. It is signed, Andy Zay, State Senator, District 17.

          Before coming here we lived in Tennessee, Florida and Ohio. They all sent out these kinds of things. BUT IT WAS ALWAYS FOR SOMEONE TURNING 100! Not 65, for heaven’s sake!

          But, since I have the certificate, I am old. If I live to the next election I will not vote for Mr. Zay.

          Now that I am officially old and in my final days, I feel I can express myself on a few topics. The truly old can pretty much say whatever they want, regardless of its truth or whether or not feelings are injured. At least this has always been my observation. The first topic is despair for our nation. Not despair for the current political climate. Something worse.

          There is a particular fast food restaurant, which shall remain nameless, that I do not like, except for their coffee. To that end, I occasionally am given a gift card to that nameless restaurant by folks in the church with the idea I will buy numerous cups of coffee. Two weeks ago, I had the craving and I went to this nameless restaurant to secure a cup of my addiction. I pulled out a gift card, knowing there was not enough to fully pay for the cup of coffee. I handed it to the girl at the window. She was wearing a mask, so I couldn’t see her face, but her eyes said it all. I knew what was going through her mind. Eyes rolled, shoulders slump. She is thinking “Old people and gift cards. This guy’s great grandchildren probably gave him the card.” She sticks it in the card reader, then turns back to me with a voice of distain, the voice the young reserve for the incredibly aged.

          “Your card is 68 cents short.” I hand her the three quarters in my hand. She looks at the quarters and takes a deep breath. She assumes I am senile and cannot hear, so she says loudly and slowly, “Sir, your card is 68 cents short, not 75.” I have no mask on, so I give her a big smile and just keep looking at her. Finally, with a great sigh, she says, “Do you want me to take the 68 cents out of the 75?” Still looking at her blissfully, I say, “Oh yes! That would be lovely!”

          The next topic is evolving understanding. I am, as I said, now quite old. In the 1970s and 1980s (I was alive then) we were told the world was going to freeze because of our pollution of the planet. That didn’t happen in the allotted time, so they changed that in the 1990s and early 2000s and said we were going to broil within ten years. That didn’t happen, so they began to say climate change was going to melt the ice caps and we were going to drown in less than twenty years. One of the main proponents of this coming disaster theory, former president Barak Obama, was so convinced that when he left office, he and his family bought an $11,000,000 seaside home one foot above sea level! It seems certain groups who are bent on redefining our culture have a way of making whatever is currently happening support their argument. I am so old I remember when truth was truth and foolishness was simply foolishness.

          And then the last topic I would like to look at (I have to go take my mid-day Geritol and then get my afternoon nap) is the assault against Christianity in the world today. The Bible, we are told, is a Book that contains hate speech. All the talk about God’s judgement, the condemnation of various sins that other people find enjoyable, the insistence that only real faith in the Lord is the only way to heaven…those things are not only harsh but, to various segments of the population, down right hateful. This being so, those who say the Bible is full of hate feel free to mock both the Bible and Christians. They feel free to insist that believers lose their First Amendment rights. They feel free, in the name of love, to launch violence against those who believe in a Savior other than themselves. What confuses me is that history clearly shows that times of real peace and tranquility have only come when the principles of the Bible have been held up and followed. In our society now, the principles of the Bible are being trampled and corrupted, and look at the mess we are in. I can only conclude that, while the Bible is all about love and hope, it is not the love and hope these people are looking for in their world view.

           Life sure was simpler back when I was a young’in….