"Good, good Father"

I’ve said it before but it’s never been more appropriate for me to mention that the Bible is absolutely correct when it declares that God will father the fatherless.  On my first birthday without my dad, God demonstrated that He really is a “good, good Father” as a popular song puts it.  God was so gracious on my birthday.  He showered me with so many birthday blessings.  It was such a marvelous day – a birthday I will never forget – that I wanted to publish a follow-up birthday blog to thank, praise, and honor my Heavenly Father.

For me to try to describe everything that God did would take up too much of your time.  I could list six or seven birthday blessings right now, but let me just sum it up by saying that God, as a friend once put it, "showed up and showed off."  I could feel the love as my family and friends expressed their love (incidentally, I want to give a public “thank you” to my mom.  She provided me with an amazing surprise birthday gift).  I could feel the love of God as well.

This outpouring of love produced a multitude of reactions in me.  I felt gratitude, amazement, and fellowship.  But there was another inner response as well: unworthiness.  At one point in my day, I was listening to a song by the Christian singer Plumb called “Don’t Deserve You.”  It’s a song where the singer confesses that she doesn’t deserve God’s love.  Some might want to resist such a thought, but I resonate with it.  Don't misunderstand me: I gratefully accept, embrace, and relish God’s love for me.  But I certainly don’t deserve it.

Kevin

Birthday blog for 2016

My birthday isn't officially until next week (the 29th) but I thought I'd publish my thoughts about it now anyway.  Candidly, over the years, these birthday blogs have always been awkward for me to write.  What are you supposed to say for your own birthday?  There have been times when I wanted to just skip my birthday blog altogether.  This year is different.  This year I have plenty to write about.  In fact, this time, I’m going to be tackling several different subject matters that are on my heart.

I’ll begin by addressing the elephant in the room.  This is a very different birthday because this is the first birthday without my dad.  For my whole life one of the things that I could always count on was a birthday celebration with my parents.  Now, once again, I see the empty chair and remember the loss.  One thing that comforts me is to know that God fathers the fatherless.  Recently, my mom and I were encouraged by this beautiful verse from the Bible.  Psalm 68:5 reads, “A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in His holy dwelling.”  I can vouch for the truthfulness of this verse!

Another thought I have is the fragile nature of life.  Back in November, at a family Thanksgiving get-together, we went around the table and articulated something that we were thankful for.  I stated that I was thankful for life, and that my heart was still beating.  I knew it before, but this year has made it painfully obvious to me that life is a fragile gift that should not be taken for granted.

Unfortunately, one does not have to look too long and hard for recent examples of this fact.  49 people in Orlando were brutally slain by an evil gunman; or consider this: Anton Yelchin, a 27-year-old actor, passed away after getting pinned underneath his own car; Lane Graves, a 2-year-old boy, was snatched away and tragically ended by an alligator attack.  Sadly, I could go on and on, but I don’t want to; these stories are gut-wrenching to contemplate.  My point is clear: we should be thankful for another day to breathe air, because tomorrow is not guaranteed.  Life is a fragile gift.

My third and final thought today is the declaration that I will boast in the Lord, not myself.  In the last blog, I talked about how my dad didn’t brag on himself.  Like Dad, I have no desire to praise myself.  I want to boast of the greatness of my Heavenly Father.  Why?  Because God is great and I am not.

My dad used to have a picture at his cubicle at his work that I want to share with you to conclude today.  You know how some athletes have the habit of pointing up to the sky?  Tim Tebow, for example, used to do it all the time, to acknowledge God.  After my college graduation, Dad, in celebration, took many pictures of me.  I’m so glad he did, because one picture is a pose (inspired by Tebow) that I specifically requested be taken of me.  This picture captures the cry of my heart.

Jerry Bauer, my dad, the superhero

I have repeatedly called my dad a “superhero” in my writings.  And I think some of you have wondered if I felt this way before Dad passed away, or if this title is a result of a newfound appreciation that I didn’t have before.  Today I wanted to assure you that I felt this way before Dad passed away, and I had the glorious opportunity to tell him this several times.

There are several examples I could give to you, but I came across a Father’s Day card that I gave Dad back in 2012.  I wrote these words to him: “Dad, here are three ways you are a good example.  1) You model genuine humility.  2) You provide, protect, and selflessly serve your family.  3) You are honest and ethical.  Not all heroes wear capes!”

One of the things that I miss is my dad’s humor.  Dad liked to be silly whenever possible (which is quite a contrast with me: I’m as serious as a heart attack).  I bring this up because, in a silly moment, Dad was pretending to be flying through the air, like a superhero.  I want to share this picture with you because it captures my dad, Jerry Bauer, the superhero.

In conclusion, my dad would not like this attention.  He never paraded himself as some superstar, deserving of accolades; he avoided the limelight.  He would always divert the glory and praise to God.  At Rick Ferguson's Memorial service, Rick's son, Brett, said what made his dad so great was that he knew that he wasn't great; he knew how great his Heavenly Father is.  That's true of Rick, and I say the same thing regarding my dad.  Dad was a great man, but he never bragged on himself.  He carried himself with genuine humility.  He lived out Proverbs 27:2: "Let another praise you, and not your own mouth; someone else, and not your own lips."  I'll never stop boasting about my dad as long as I live.  

Kevin

The most bittersweet holiday of all

As I mentioned in the last blog, it has been difficult to do much of anything without being reminded of the fact that Father’s Day is coming.  Hoopla for the holiday is just in the air right now.  I’ve chronicled the bittersweet holidays since my dad passed away in this blog, but I think Father’s Day has been the most bittersweet holiday of all for me.

Greg Grandchamp in his fantastic book “The Pursuit of Truth” is spot-on when he writes these words:  “When we lose loved ones, no doubt the pain can be extraordinary, seemingly unending.  We weep.  And when we weep for those we have lost, we truly weep for ourselves – for the time we have lost with that loved one whom we will no longer have, for the torment we feel for not having spent more time with them.  And we wonder why God took them from us.  But we have only our own perspective – the one from this side.  While we weep, heaven celebrates.  We cry for sadness; heaven cries for joy.”  

Later on in the same chapter, Grandchamp says, “When we mourn, we mourn for ourselves and our own loss.”  In this year, I have heard many accounts of loss.  My heart and emotions react differently now.  I am gripped by the intense pain that I know the survivors are feeling because I’ve been there.  I’m still there.  I was inspired by a story I heard conveyed in a sermon, and the widower’s response of faith and trust in God.

 

Christian evangelist George Muller (sometimes spelled “Mueller” although “Muller” is correct) found himself thrown into grief when his wife of 40 years, Mary, passed away.  George Muller decided to preach at her funeral service.  He said, “I miss her in numberless ways, and shall miss her yet more and more.  But…I am satisfied with the will of my Heavenly Father; I seek, by perfect submission to His holy will, to glorify Him.  I kiss continually the Hand that has thus afflicted me.”  Like Muller, I trust in God’s will and plan for my life, even if that plan includes sorrow, loss, and pain.

Kevin       

Important words from a pen of the past

British Poet Alfred Lord Tennyson (1809-1892) once wrote this famous quote: “‘Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”  I had heard this quote before, but it wasn’t until I lost my dad almost a year ago now (how times flies!) that I could vouch for its accuracy.  Yes, it certainly is better to love and to subsequently lose than to never love at all.

 

Someone will read these words and disagree with Tennyson.  You think it would just be better to live a life without having to face the possibility of losing love.  I would urge you to reconsider that view.  Let me explain. 

In preparation for this blog, I came across an interesting blog posted on psychology today.com by Jennifer Kunst, a clinical psychologist.  She writes, “How sad it would be to live our lives in a mode of self-protection that costs us some of the most precious experiences of life: to love and to be loved.  We exchange a life of fulfillment for a life of safety.  We exchange one kind of pain for another, the pain of love-and-loss for the pain for loneliness.  We must ask ourselves if this is a trade we are willing to make.”

She concludes with these words: “Love costs so much because it gives so much.  After all, if it didn’t give so much, we wouldn’t be in such pain when we lose it.  For me, that is a trade-off worth its weight in gold.”  I couldn’t agree more!  Here is the link, should you wish to read Kunst’s words in full: https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/headshrinkers-guide-the-galaxy/201204/is-it-better-have-loved-and-lost-yes-yes-it-is  

If you take the time to study the life of Alfred Lord Tennyson, you will discover that Tennyson was familiar with grief and pain.  When a close friend of Tennyson's unexpectedly passed away at the young age of 22, it plunged him into grief.  He expressed this by writing.  Here are the lesser known words leading up to the famous quote: “I hold it true, whate’er befall; I feel it when I sorrow most; ‘tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”

I have felt pain this year like I've never experienced before.  For example, right now, I find it difficult to go to the grocery store because there is so much Father’s Day material.  Honestly, I can’t wait for Father’s Day to be over.  Just today, I saw a Father’s Day card with a picture of Superman on it.  It said something to the effect that Dad was a hero without a cape.  Then you open the card up and it plays the iconic John Williams Superman theme.  It reminded me afresh that my dad is no longer with us.  All I have now is his selfless character (I stand by what I said at his service: he was a superhero); that will have to be enough.

"'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all"