I still remember the pain that rippled through my left side with each breath I took. I remembering at one point wondering if this is how it’ll all end. I remember as I stood up to get into the car, thinking, “I’m sorry, Evan.” Sorry for what, I now wonder? Sorry for not having been a better dad. Sorry for not being there for him when he graduates, when he gets his first job, when he gets married. Sorry for not having time to say goodbye.

I am sitting here trying to remember what it was like to face the possibility of death. It was certainly a lot more in-your-face than a prognosis of cancer, much more immediate.

I am certain that God’s hand saved my life, if not in preventing the knife from going too far, then in the healing that happened before I even got to the hospital. By the time we got to the hospital, the pain had mostly subsided, save during the few deep breaths I had to take for the X-ray. Something must’ve happened, something must’ve changed inside my body for the pain to have gone away. I absolutely believe that a miracle happened. There’s really no other explanation.

But still, the thought that 2011 might’ve been the last year I’d see still stays fresh with me. Pastor David asked me to pray hard about what God’s telling me. I think I’m still a little bit in shock to really process everything. But I really should pray. I do know one thing God’s telling me – it’s not my time. Not yet.

And as I’m sitting reminiscing about my little brush with death, a brother we’d met in Taiwan during the summer is falling ill to his cancer, his body not responding well to the treatments he’s getting.

It’s a lot to think about.

It certainly puts things in perspective.

(And no, the strangeness of the connection to my previous post is not lost on me.)

Once I’d given the keyboard a once-over, he started to tell me that the main reason he’s selling the keyboard is because he’s moving back to Hong Kong to care for his parents in their deteriorating health. As he continued in his story, more details unfolded – and what an incredible story. Turns out sometime last year, he’d been involved in a car accident that led to the other person stabbing him in the chest in an altercation (and was later shot dead by police who responded at the scene). At that point, he really started to question what his purpose in life was, and after much thought and prayer, he decided to quit his job here and move back to Hong Kong to help care for his parents.

In this day and age, when all you hear about are young people who are doing everything they can to make a name for themselves (sometimes literally) and to get ahead in the rat race, it was so refreshing to hear from someone who’s decided to give up pursuing his own dreams, to live a life of service to others. It gives me hope to meet someone who isn’t self-centered, who isn’t constantly thinking about himself and how he feels and what he wants in life.

It broke my heart to read the synopsis of the story, to understand that there was a time in our culture where love was not expected to exist between man and wife. See, I think deep down, each and every one of us has a need to be needed, and the deepest fulfillment of that need can be found in marriage – the keywords being “can be.” And even though I came from a family with divorced parents, I believe that deep inside, my biggest hope of redemption was that I would find love in my own marriage, that I would prove the world wrong when it was my turn. I imagined a union where my wife and I were the most important beings in each other’s lives.

But.. I’ve been told that in order for a marriage to succeed, there was to be a greater goal outside the marriage. It can’t just be about the two people. At one point I agreed with this, but nowadays I wonder if it’s true. What I see now is two people who give their lives to a common cause, at the expense of their relationship with each other… and at the end of the day, when the cause is over, when the common goal has been achieved, they sit down and realize that between the two of them, nothing exists. It’s an emptiness. The only things that they shared were wrapped up in the common goal; now that it’s over, their common ground was also over.

In many companies, bonds between team members grow as they delve into their project; once that project is over, the team is either assigned to the next project, or reshuffled into different teams for different projects, where new relationships grow. Whichever the case, those relationships exist within the context of the projects. If there were no projects, most likely those relationships would slowly falter and fade – unless those team members had taken time OUTSIDE of the project to get to know each other, and to create a bond outside the foundation of the project.

In the same way, I think husband and wife need to have a strong bond before investing themselves into that common goal, where they find all their time spent working, working, working, with their closest companions being their laptops and social networks and cellphones. Husband and wife need to have a secret fan outside of that project through which they can communicate. Otherwise they’ll find themselves totally wrapped up in the project, and when the project ends, they’ll find themselves itching for another project, because they have nothing to talk about outside of the project, or heaven forbid, itching to reshuffle teams to find new team members.

So what’s your secret fan? (And please, don’t tell me it’s your kids – what an unfair burden to place on them!)

I’m finding that I liked Facebook because it was how people kept in touch with me. I liked getting the notifications, the comments, the likes, the posts on my wall. In the week that I’ve been off Facebook, I’ve literally gone from 20+ social interactions per day to about 2 for the week. And I’m talking about the electronic kind of interaction, not real human social interaction. Because, frankly, I’ve forgotten how to do that kind of interaction.

But seriously. In the week past, I haven’t had much human interaction. Especially at home (unless you count meal times). And it’s getting pretty lonely. I think I’m getting depressed from the lack of interaction. I find myself searching aimlessly online for some contact, but alas, I have to be careful where I look because frankly, I don’t think Wife would understand my browsing eHarmony.com.

I’ve always considered myself an introvert, a quiet one. Almost borderline anti-social, really (you’re probably asking, “THEN WHY ARE YOU A PASTOR?!”). But I think I’m finding out that I’m not as introverted as I think. I think I just didn’t like making the effort of making first contact; I liked to wait for people to come talk to me. I like it when YOU initiate.

I don’t know why I’m writing this. I’m not sure I’ve made a point. Maybe I’m just hoping for some human interaction, that maybe the 1.5 persons who read this blog would comment. By the way, it seems most of my readership come through to this blog through Facebook (minus the handful of you who’ve subscribed) so traffic has been down.

We humans really do crave interaction, whether we realize it or not.

But life must go on. See, Eric, I don’t really have anyone to talk to about this. About my feelings. I was told to get past it. So today, on the one-month anniversary of your death, I am choosing to get past it. I will not forget you, but I will go on with my life. I think you would’ve been disappointed to hear that I was in a funk. I will choose to honor my memories of you by reaching out to more people. I believe it’s what you would’ve wanted.

And today… I will finally close those tabs. Goodbye, til we meet again.

See, I was raised to value food and to never waste food. Sure, I’ve had arguments about stuff I didn’t like to eat (sesame chicken soup was my mortal nemesis), but I never got away with not eating something simply because I didn’t like it. It was not a choice I was given. Well, there was a choice. I could eat what was served at the table, or I could choose to disobey, receive the belt, and then eat what was served at the table (cold by the time the belting was done).

Today’s kids, though.. I don’t know how this was allowed to happen, but today’s kids have become food snobs. The other day at church, as a treat, MrsA brought Taco Bell for lunch (instead of the usual tuna sandwich that we’d been having). I heard later that someone left early that day to go out and get food because he felt that Taco Bell isn’t food. Taco Bell isn’t food? Excuse me? Then what does that make me? Someone who eats not-food? Or maybe it’s not food fit for humans – does that make me a dog, perhaps?

This morning, MrE was in the grumps, and didn’t eat much of his oatmeal. He told me he was full, and I asked him why he didn’t eat more of his breakfast. He said, “Because I don’t like the oatmeal.” To which I replied, “I don’t care. Finish it.” I knew that if he didn’t finish the oatmeal, he’d go hungry, and when he gets hungry, he gets even grumpier. As a dad, I’m here to make sure he has proper nutrition and nourishment – I’m not some damned gourmet out to satisfy his taste buds. Yes, as a father, I want to provide what he likes, but as a son, he needs to learn to eat what’s put in front of him, on those occasions when I don’t make things to his liking. To MrE’s credit, he wolfed down what was still in his bowl.

So we’re raising a generation of food snobs. But this post isn’t about food. It’s about the selfish and wasteful nature of this generation. It’s all about me, and what I want, and what I “need” (which most of the time is want in the guise of need). And whatever I don’t want, whatever I don’t need – well, throw it away! We have a generation of future leaders who have learned to make their own interests top priority, with no concern for anyone else; we have a generation of future leaders who have no concept of saving, because they live in so much abundance that they can just throw things away without a thought. Does it matter that someone went through the trouble of bringing something special for lunch? Nope, sorry, that’s not food. Does it matter that one of the roommates is still learning how to cook? Uh, you can’t possibly expect me to eat that. Does it matter that the leftovers might have been intended for someone who hasn’t come home for dinner yet? Who cares, I’m going to get a full plate of second helpings, eat just a few bites, and throw away the rest.

Watch out, America. Pray hard, parents. Because we’re handing our futures to a generation that understands only two things: SELF and WASTE. And guess who made them that way? YOU.

Don’t be so quick to count yourself out. You could be that one little nail that’s holding it all together.

On the flip side, don’t think too highly of yourself either. You could just be the behind of the horse. Still part of the picture, a big part, but not the part you think you are.

O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? I can only pray that when I finally face death for real, that I can have the same strength and confidence.

Yesterday on the way to get my haircut, I was listening to KCBS, and the report was on Obama’s plan/plea that we should raise taxes on the wealthier (anyone making over $1 million), to help pay for the budget. Now, I make nowhere near $1 million, so I suppose I’m not in any position to opine about the proposed tax rate, but it did get me thinking: since when was it the responsibility of the have-more’s to pitch in and help out the have-not-as-much’s? If you asked me to sell everything I had and give to the poor, I would say no. I have a family to feed, a mortgage to pay, guitars to buy, etc.

But what if instead of asking me to sell and give everything, what if you asked me to give just part of what I have, to help out someone who doesn’t have as much? Would I do it? I think I would. I think I have. Within my means, if I had extra, I would try to help out a brother in need. Had I not any extra resources, then within my means, if I could cut back a little on my own spending habits, so that I’d have something extra, I would try to help out a brother in need. Who do I help? There are so many who are in need. Those I have a relationship with would definitely come first.

What about the nation as a whole? Whose responsibility is it to chip in and help get this country afloat again? Do we all clutch tightly onto our own wealth and accumulated things and our gains, and watch the country sink? I mean, all that I have, I worked hard for it, I earned it – who has the right to take it away from me?

Which brings me to the question – everything I have, did I really earn it all? Did it all come by the sweat off my back? Or is there some truth to God’s reminder in Deuteronomy 6:10-13?

“So it shall be, when the LORD your God brings you into the land of which He swore to your fathers, to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, to give you large and beautiful cities which you did not build, houses full of all good things, which you did not fill, hewn-out wells which you did not dig, vineyards and olive trees which you did not plant — when you have eaten and are full —  then beware, lest you forget the LORD who brought you out of the land of Egypt, from the house of bondage.”

I know that all that I have, I would not have were it not for the grace of God. But how quickly I forget, how quickly I snatch at my belongings and cry out, “Mine!”

After my haircut, on the way home, I heard another news report, this time on the decision by Texas to no longer grant last-meal requests to death row inmates about to be executed. KCBS interviewed Brian Price, one of the cooks who used to prepare the last meals (he had prepared over 200 in his time there) who offered to continue the last meal preparations at his own cost. His basic take was, “why not?” Why not show grace and mercy? Yes, this is a criminal, and we don’t want to take away at all from the gravity of the crime committed, but this criminal is about to pay the ultimate price for his crimes – could we not show a little grace? Price asked listeners to consider the other side of the story – the family of the inmate who gets to watch him die, the mothers, fathers, husbands, wives, children who are left behind, the stigma and finger-pointing that these family members will have to live with forever – what’s wrong with one last meal?

“But when He saw the multitudes, He was moved with compassion for them, because they were weary and scattered, like sheep having no shepherd.” – Matthew 9:36

I thank You for each heart You have entrusted into my hands. Each heart, so tender, fragile.. and yet, with potential to be so strong.

May I be able to bring each heart back to where it belongs.

To You.

The LORD is near to those who have a broken heart,
         And saves such as have a contrite spirit. Psalm 34:18