Been thinking lately about what I've learned over the last three years.

The number one thing I've learned is that none of us really knows as much as we think we do about God. If we did we would do a much better job of allowing God to draw us together rather than driving us apart.

I mean why should my understanding and opinion of what the Bible says be superior to my neighbors who don't happen to agree with me. I mean really each of us has come to embrace our view of God which was shaped largely by:

1. Where we were born

2. Who our parents were and what they believed.

3. The societal opinions of the day.

I saw an Archbishop of the Catholic church the other night on 60 minutes and I really enjoyed hearing his take on a lot of things but then he said that there are some absolutes that are not open for debate:

1. Abortion

2. Ordination of women in the Church

3. Celibacy of the priesthood

I'll be honest with you and say that I agree with the first one wholeheartedly, but I think the last two are opinions that are open for debate. I mean if celibacy of the priesthood is such an absolute why was it not the belief from the very beginning instead of coming later on in response to priest and other men of the cloth leaving church property to their heirs.

I am an ordained Baptist deacon and I can tell you from experience that there is nothing that will make believers circle the wagons quite as quickly as messing with their money. I have a feeling it is probably the same with the Catholics, the Methodist and even the pagans down the street.

So why am I rambling on about all of this religious stuff in a blog that is at it's core an exercise for dealing with the loss of my son.

It's because there is no part of my life that was as deeply affected as my relationship with God and fellow "Christians".

One lady upon meeting with my wife not long after our son's death had the following burning question to ask, "Did he know Jesus?". I mean how can you answer a question like that one for someone else, I cannot tell you with absolute certainty that I "know Jesus". I am trying to, and I want to more than anything, but have I succeeded in "knowing him" in an intimate way, I am not sure. You see there is a lot of things that get in my way. Things like:

1. My preconceived notion of what Jesus expects of me as communicated to me by my family while growing up (interestingly enough they no longer believe everything they told me to believe for all of those years).

2. The contradictory communication coming from everyone who professes to know exactly what knowing Jesus is supposed to mean.

So let me answer the ladies question once and for all about my son, and hopefully about myself as well, for I don't think the question was worded correctly. The question should never be whether or not I know Jesus, the real question should be, does Jesus know me.

I can answer that question for my son, Jesus knew him, and I think Jesus loved what he knew about Joel. That doesn't mean Joel was perfect, he wasn't. In fact I would venture to bet that Joel is right at home up in Heaven with the likes of Peter, and David, and if I do say so myself Peter and David are lucky for their association with him.

Been A While

It's been a while since my last post, I have never been too good at following through on things and this blog is no exception. But just wanted to update you on how we're getting a long and what has been happening since last I wrote.

My oldest daughter Rachel got married this year to a boy she has loved since she was first in high school, I wish I could tell you the date but keeping up with my own anniversary is more than enough for me. I know my wife said yesterday that it was seven months so I will take her word for it and go on. Rachel seems very happy and is doing well at work. I always knew she would be successful and being happy meets all my expectations.

My middle child Leah is still trying to figure out what she wants to be. The choices at this time are, soccer player, actress, super model, with a side of musician and singer on the side. I am sure whatever she decides to become she will make us proud, and hopefully be able to carry her half of the burden of supporting me through my golden years.

Leah is a junior in High School, which means I am getting old. My wife and children always fuss when I say I am getting old but there is no way to argue with the truth, and I wouldn't want to anyway. Being older has its perks. When you are old you can sit down when you feel like it and say what's on your mind no matter who agrees or likes it.

You can also stare at pretty women as long as you want to and they will never feel threatened, after all if worse comes to worse they feel pretty sure they can outrun you, even in four inch heels and a dress.

Waking up each morning one day older also brings with it the knowledge that you are one day closer to our ultimate goal. Don't get me wrong I am not suicidal or anything, I am as afraid of death as the next person but I know it is inevitable so I don't live my life in constant dread and worry. All this may change someday if a doctor brings me bad news but for now I stoically await the next chapter of my existence.

The one thing that perplexes me to no end is how I continue to age while my wife remains the same. She's as lovely today as she was almost 30 years ago when she took my breath away coming down the aisle at Huffman Baptist church. She says that I am looking through the eyes of love and my response is always, so what, I don't think a woman should have the right to argue with her husband on matters such as this. Your mirror will lie to you but your husband, if he is a good one, never will. See yourself through his eyes only, and your life will go well.

Now to the last member of our family, the one who is no longer with us, our beloved Joel. He is beginning his fourth year in heaven today and I feel quite sure he has already made a name for himself up there. I can only hope he has some idea how much he is missed down here. Every time I hear an engine roar to life I have to roll the window down and listen for a minute, I know that's what he would want me to do.

If I could have one wish this year I know what it would be. Not for gold or riches, not for health or fame, my one wish would be to spend five minutes with my son. I know some things that weigh on me that I would like to make sure he knows.

1. You know that plastic wallet you gave me when you were ten, I wish I had put it in my pocket and carried it for a while. I thought putting it in my briefcase to hold receipts would suffice but I could tell by the look on your face I was wrong.

2. That last day before you died when you asked me to go to the woods with you to shoot Zack's new gun, I wish I would have gone, what a sweet memory that would be.

3. That time you wanted me to meet you at the restaurant to meet the Christian motorcycle club and I told you I was too tired to go. I would give anything to change that memory.

Those are just three of the regrets I carry around with me, there are many others I am sure you can't recall but I remember every one. For everything I did with you and for you in your nineteen years with us, there are at least twenty that grief reminds me of where I let you down.

I might say those things to you but then again I am pretty sure they wouldn't come up, cause I am sure you would grin that big grin of yours, engulf me in your arms, and laugh when I can no longer reach the ground and no longer draw a breath.

If I could hug you for just five minutes a year, I think I could make it through all these other things.

There is a quote I heard one time that expresses my feelings.

"The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone" Harriet Beecher Stowe.

I have lived this quote for three years now, they have been my constant companion.

Until the next time, all my love.

Pops