Remembering Mom And Celebrating A Legacy

It's been exactly ten years since family and friends were called to say our final goodbyes to my mom as she fought tenaciously for ten months in a battle she finally lost to stage four breast cancer. As I think back to those last few days with her on this earth, there was so much of who she was becoming being manifest to each of us. She was looking forward into eternity and encouraging us with every step as her time in this world was drawing short. A few days after the announcement had come that she had a maximum of six months without treatment and a maximum of 18 months with treatment, she shared with one of her fellow church members during a time of church-wide prayer for their healing, "No matter what happens, we win!" Her attitude was infectiously positive even in the middle of trying circumstances. She always set her sights on what was possible and encouraged others to do the same in every aspect of life. She was the kind of person that people write songs about, and in fact, my best friend in the whole world, Willie, did just that.



My mom left this world at age 61 after 43 years of marriage, but I can't really bring myself to say that she died. As the philosopher Dallas Willard has said, "We are each unceasing spiritual beings with an eternal destiny in God's great universe." And as another philosopher and writer C.S. Lewis has said, "You have never met a mere mortal." When my mom left this world to be with Jesus, we mourned her departure, and celebrated the small part of her life we witnessed. And in those few years from then until now, I believe that each of us who knew her has tried to imitate her faith. You see, we can't live our lives in exactly the same way, but we can be imitators of the faith that we witness in those around us and those who have come before us. In some ways, that is one of the most beautiful gifts we can carry, and we can pass on to others who will walk this world long after we have breathed our last.

So much has happened in these last ten years. Her oldest grandchild graduated from a prestigious institution of higher learning, and her youngest grandchild only recently was born. My dad, my sister, my brother, and myself have each sought to deepen and enrich our own walks of faith, and live as a sign, a foretaste, and an instrument of God's Kingdom come, and His will being done on earth as it is in heaven--to the best of our ability.

There have been so many incredible experiences I've had over these last ten years that I wish I could share with my mom. I wish she would have been able to spend more time with Jamie, and celebrate with us on our wedding day. I wish she could have been able to meet Sylvia, and hold her and be one more experienced voice encouraging my wife as she entered into the joys and anxieties that are unique to motherhood. I wish I could have shared just a few of the photos, stories, and adventures I've been privileged to enjoy over these last ten years.

But its not just the stories from my life that I'd love to share. I wish she could see what a disciplined athlete my sister has become, and how her life has flourished over these last few years as she started running and winning trophies for her exploits on roads and trails. I wish she could have seen Dad heroically come back from a heart attack that would have killed most people. She would have loved to have seen the way he fought back and strengthened his heart, and how he gives so generously of himself to care for each of us kids and for so many others. And I wish she could see what a servant leader my brother has continued to be as well. She would have been so impressed with his recent 90 mile bike ride and the way he has led the carpool van for his work by waking up a little after 4AM every weekday for nearly 20 years to drive 8-10 coworkers over an hour to work.

Not that she wasn't proud of us before these last ten years, because she definitely was. She was a huge source of encouragement and inspiration for just about every person with whom she crossed paths. Moments of loss, as painful as they are, remind us to walk gently on this earth, and to love others deeply while we can. Seeing my mom in those last hours, unrelenting in her care for each of us as friends and family gathered in prayer, mourning and strange as it may seem, laugher, those images have become seared in my memory and in my own internal compass as I continue to seek to imitate her persevering and unshakeable tenacity and faith. Even until her last breath, she loved deeply, she ran her race strong, and she never wavered in her care for the rest of us.

If you knew my mom, you know what a special lady she was. And if you didn't, I hope you get the privilege of meeting her one day. Mom's have a special relationship with their children, and while each of us continues to live out our life with zeal and determination, I think each one of us kids (and Dad too), has those moments to this day, when all is quiet, and we have at the same time a deep sense of loss, and a deeper sense of appreciation for each moment we have.

May each of us walk gently on this earth, filled with compassion for others, and with a deep sense of awe for this beautiful place and the wonderful relationships with which the Creator of the universe has blessed each of us. And, may He give each of us space, as we need it, to grieve fully and fearlessly for those, like my mom, who have gone on to be with Jesus before us.

Reflection: Remembering Franklin Delanor Lambert, Junior

As I sit down to write this post, I'm a little in shock. My mind is swirling with memories--laughter tears, and long, meaningful conversations that won't happen again on this side of eternity. Last night, I learned that one of my oldest friends, and one I had not seen in person for a very long time, died of a heart attack. He had just recently turned 43 years old.

Frank was a proud West Virginian and a proud Mountaineer. He had grown up in some of the hill country of West Virginia (Elkins), and had moved to some of the river country (Parkersburg) our senior year of high school. And while we both knew each other then, we really became good friends our freshman year of college at WVU on the basketball courts and in the residence halls.

Frank had a deep appreciation for music, and probably had the biggest music collection of anyone I have ever known. And he knew the music too--every album--he could tell you about the artist and explain the nuances of the songs. He was a huge fan of all kinds of music from Pearl Jam to Cyprus Hill and just about everything in between. Back in college we would spend hours listening to and talking about the latest albums, and he would be among the first to acquire them at the Discount Den in Morgantown.

Frank and his sister Angie introduced me to the Forest Festival in Elkins, and because of them, I have been able to introduce it to members of my own family as well. Frank was incredibly generous with his time and was always willing to help out a friend in need. When I was installed as a chief in my tribal community nearly 17 years ago, Frank was among a select few friends from outside my tribe who I was privileged to invite to our land and have him witness that historic moment. Frank was a history major in his undergrad too, and so there was something special about having this friend share in a piece of history.

I believe it was through Frank that I discovered just how close Pittsburgh was to Morgantown as he would invite a group of friends to travel with him to explore the city. I can remember many drives to Pittsburgh while we were in school. Frank also believed in being well-dressed. In fact, he and a couple of other friends took me on a "fashion emergency" trip (before it was a thing) because my wardrobe and style could "use some work." We definitely had a lot of awesome road trips together.

And wow, we could spend HOURS on the basketball court. We would play hoops outside til dark, or head to Stansbury Hall (the courts where Jerry West played) and shoot hoops until we got kicked out of the building. In fact, many times we would shoot hoops and then listen to tunes and talk about the games we played--we would even try to come up with creative plays. And actually, there was a time where me, Frank, and my roommate at the time (Andy) got invited to play in a prison by a dude we were playing who happened to be a prison guard at a supermax prison in Pennsylvania. That game was pretty unforgettable--everyone in the prison came out to watch the game with us "outsiders" and we got SMOKED--I think we lost by 30+ points. I have lots of great memories with Frank on the basketball court, and he was a strong athlete.

Frank was always willing to speak truth to me (and to anyone) whether it might hurt or not. He never did it out of malice, but always to help people be better human beings and better friends. I remember one occasion when I had told him that I was going to come to a cookout he was hosting, and as I was walking there I ran into two other groups of friends at two different times, and ended up not making it to the cookout. He called me out for not honoring my word. At the time it really stung because I really valued keeping my word (and I still do). He told me he knew that I had the intention of being there but that if I commit and I don't follow through it hurts people, and that it wasn't the first time I had done it and that he wasn't the only person I had done it to. He told me that other people understood my intentions were good, but that I was hurting my friends and friendships when I didn't follow through and honor my word. Frank made me, and everyone he met a better person.

We went through our share of hardships together. One of the foremost burned into my mind happened during 2006 and 2007. Frank's dad and my mom were both diagnosed with cancer. We would see each other at the hospital often as our parents were going through the last stages of their fights with cancer. And as Frank was watching his dad fight hard in a losing battle against cancer, he was also getting ready to marry the love of his life, Dena. I remember going to their wedding in Ohio, and all of the sadness and joy being swirled together. Frank lost his dad, and I lost my mom within days of each other. Loss is always hard, but enduring it as you are starting a new life with someone and adding to your family is a difficult path to walk. Frank always walked the path bravely though, in every area of life.

Frank was 43 years old. And now his wife, sister, and mom (and many others) are grieving his unexpected death. For my part, I had hoped that we might be able to connect the last time I was in Parkersburg--I was hoping he would be able to meet my daughter and wife. And learning news of his death makes me want to be even more committed to do everything I can to live as long as I can on this earth with Jamie and Sylvia. I know our time of departure from this life is not entirely up to us, but I want to do everything within my power to ensure that my choices are not limiting the quality and quantity of the time I have left.

May we each savor the moments and memories we have, and as we are able, make new ones to cherish and treasure in this life, and Frank, may you rest in peace my brother.

Meditation On Mortality

Over the last few days, I have had circumstances happening around me that have led me to really think deeply about my own mortality. A few weeks weeks ago, I received a phone call that let me know that the principal chief of my tribe had died at age 55 from a heart attack. More recently, I found out that another close friend of mine had recognized early signs he was having a heart attack, and was able to arrive at a hospital in time to save his life, he’s 42 years old. My dad suffered a massive heart attack in 2009, and his life was saved because it happened in a hospital.—he’s still going strong though. My mom died at age 61 in an inspirational fight she lost to stage four cancer, high-blood pressure, diabetes, and congestive heart failure.

As each of these events have occurred, they have brought into focus some basic truths to which I personally don’t like to give a lot of thought. Every single one of us will meet the end of our days one day.  When life events calls me to freshly consider the bigger questions of our mortality and purpose, I do not place my focus in pop-culture platitudes, but rather to ancient and timeless truths of the scriptures. This life will end. Saul of Tarsus tells us that it is appointed for each of us to die, and then after that comes the judgment. James, the half-brother of Jesus of Nazareth, warns that our life is a vapor and that tomorrow is not promised. One of the Hebrew Psalmists encourages us to learn to number our days. And with all of these myriad warnings, and the daily reality that there are people who are dying from various causes, I feel like we can lose sight of this reality.

But the last few weeks, have been a megaphone for these truths. So what does a person do with the reality that this life is temporary? I find myself looking to the wisdom of scriptures, and considering the application of the wisdom of the ages. In my estimation, the scriptures are a guidepost for living life on purpose, in light of our earthly mortality, and in light of the fact that each of us are, as the philosopher Dallas Willard has said, “unceasing spiritual beings with an eternal destiny in God’s great universe.” The ancient theologian Saul of Tarsus has also written an exhortation for the ages to, “Make the most of the time because the days are evil, and understand what the will of the Lord is.”

When I consider these truths, that my life is short, and that I’m seeking to make the most of the time, I still find myself in need of guidance. We live in a world FULL of chocies, at least most of us in the West seem to have limitless choices. I’ve spent enough time in other areas of the world (and honestly even here) to know that our circumstances can sometimes limit our choices—but we ALWAYS have a choice of some type. So, again, I look to ancient texts for truths that have stood the test of time. An Ancient Hebrew Prophet laid it out this way, “What is required of you o man, but to do justice, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God.”

These are powerful words, but we need more than wise words to live by, we need to cautiously and humbly seek to apply these words and embody them in our lives. The reason I encourage caution and humility is because, if these words are meant to move us toward a life of purpose from the perspective our own mortality, then we need to be willing to course-correct if we may be mis-applying the wisdom. We need to be in a place to listen to the feedback of others. We need to be open to suggestion, but at the same time, we need to be resolute. If we aren’t resolved to a degree, then we will waffle and waver from our purpose, and we will likely live a less fulfilling life.

So as I consider all of the events swirling around me, death of a close friend, near death of another close friend, and the arrival to this earth of our first child, I consider this text in the following ways.

Do Justice—This is an active part of our life rhythm. In order to be able to do justice, I need to wisely steward the limited resources I have, in the limited time I have, for the good of others. This encourages me to pursue my own physical health, not so much so I can live longer (although there is a correlation between physical health and longevity), but more so I can do more in terms of justice. If I am healthy and strong, I can give more of my resources to service. I can volunteer. I can run and play with my child. I can help friends move, and it just leaves me in a place where I have more to give.

Love Mercy—There is so much wrapped up in this phrase. This phrase helps me to more fully be present to all that is going on around me. If I am loving mercy, I am willing to walk in forgiveness—I’m neither carrying bitterness toward others, nor toward myself. There are times in our life where all of us “do injustice” to ourselves and to others. There are times when we will have injustice done to us. It is in those times we have an ability to love mercy and extend mercy toward ourselves and others. Carrying bitterness, anxiety, and disappointment are not the way of mercy, and they will rob us of our life long before we breathe our last, if we let them. In this spirit, I strive to make space to choose to believe the best of myself and of others, and to extend mercy rather than enmity.

Walk humbly with your God—This is probably the least popular aspect of this ancient nugget of wisdom. Our pride screams defiantly at any form of humility. We want to do things in our way, according to our time schedule, and according to our own priorities—we do not like the thought of anyone or anything dictating how we should spend our time, talents, and treasures. And yet, when we walk in humility, we are able to have eyes to see our own shortcomings. When we walk humbly with God, we are choosing to listen to the ONE voice that desires the best for us, and has the clearest insight into how we can live the most fulfilled and purposeful life, the wisdom and guidance of God nudges us to the best life we can live. And by taking time regularly to listen and to respond, we can truly make the most of our limited window of time on this earth.

I would never claim to execute these three principles perfectly, but I believe they offer each of us guidance toward how we might each live our lives in a way that truly “makes the most of the time because the days are evil.” May we each strive to walk in a way that is mindful of our mortality, and that savors and makes the most of each magical moment of our lives.

Remembering My Aunt Rosemary

It was late Sunday evening January 19th when I was able to talk to my Uncle Bill. He, my cousins, their children, and their pastor had gathered at the hospital to wait. Aunt Rosemary was taken to the hospital earlier in the day with critical vitals, and doctors had just said that my aunt was septic, and that her systems were slowly going to be shutting down. And now, as you read this, my aunt has left this world to be with her King Jesus.

As I prayed with my uncle over the phone Sunday night, I burst into tears. Not because my aunt was not destined for a better place, but because of the great void she will leave behind here. My mind flooded with an incredible array of memories of my aunt and the way she cared for me and so many others.

My family's loss is heaven's gain. My aunt fought a number of illnesses during the years I knew her, but that's just the thing. She fought. She fought the good fight and finished the race. There was a point in time a few years ago, that the doctors had said she was dying, but she fought back to stay because she wanted more time with her family and people she loved.

Aunt Rosemary was always quick to open her home and give generously of her resources to help others. For several years, she and Uncle Bill supported the work I was doing with Great Commission Ministries, and I know she supported many other activities in the area. She always opened her home and made sure that my cousins' children, Brandon and Liz, always had a safe environment for themselves and their friends from school to hang out.

Aunt Rosemary was very proud of her sons and her family members for their accomplishments, and LOVED having visitors. I can remember many visits, even when my aunt wasn't feeling well, when she would hear the voices of company in the living room of the house, she would rally the energy to come visit, sit for a spell, and catch up with folks.

While Aunt Rosemary is already with Jesus, it is my prayer that those of us she left behind would continue to honor her legacy of love for God, compassion, and hospitality. The world could use more people who live the quality life of character of my Aunt Rosemary.

Remembering Uncle Bob

Although, I know he won’t read this, I feel like I needed to write something to honor my uncle and remember him. He went to be with Jesus last Monday, and I attended his funeral on Friday with my dad and sister as well as several other uncles, aunts, cousins, and friends. The photo above was taken just a few days before he went to be with Jesus. In the photo from left to right are Bob, Kenny, Dad, and Russell. All of them except Dad have dealt with some form of cancer personally.

I only met my uncle Bob a handful of times while he was alive and honestly didn’t know him that well. I know he loved his family very much, and that he would call to check up on his brothers periodically from his home in Oklahoma and from Michigan where my cousin Regina lives.

I learned something that I didn’t know while attending my uncle’s funeral. My aunt Ginny, his wife, came up to me and acted to comfort me, knowing that it wasn’t too long ago I was standing in the same building while friends neighbors and relatives paid their last respects to my mom. She leaned in and told me that my uncle Bob read my blog all of the time. In fact, she said it was the last thing he did before he died.

I can’t fully describe the way I felt when she told me that. I was honored and humbled all at the same time. There have been moments that I’ve contemplated pulling the plug on this blog, but I don’t foresee that happening now. My blog was my uncle’s window to what was happening with family, an encouragement to his faith, and at times a source of laughter for him and his family.

I told my dad what my aunt had said, and he said that every time he talked to Uncle Bob, he would mention things he had read in my blog, and he would compliment my writing ability and the notes I would post. My cousin Regina told me that toward the end, his vision had blurred, and he had asked her to read my blog posts to him.

I never had much opportunity to talk with my uncle on this side of the veil, but I do look forward to one day having many conversations with him as we worship Jesus together. He has left a legacy in his wife, his hard-working daughter, and his grand-children. He was a source of strength and wisdom for all of them, and now they have the challenge of sharing the lessons of the years under his tutelage with the rest of the world to bring healing and care to others.

From stories I’ve heard, uncle Bob worked tirelessly and couldn’t sit still until his cancer forced him to stop. He actually sounds a lot like his brothers. But now, he is resting at the presence of Jesus and the pains of cancer no longer ravage his body. His heart’s greatest longing has been fulfilled, and he is enjoying eternal joy, hope, and peace.

On Saturday afternoon, Uncle Bob’s wife, daughter, and grand-daughter hopped back into their car and began the drive back to Michigan. My cousin mentioned the possibility of everyone coming back to West Virginia to be with the rest of the family during the holidays. I certainly hope they do.

May you take time today to remember your family and friends who have passed through the veil, and savor the moments you have with those who haven’t.

David Carradine Died Today

Every day, the people I follow on twitter help me see many things going on in the world I might otherwise miss (and in turn, miss sharing with you). Today, my best friend Willie just informed me that David Carradine died.

Apparently, some people are saying it was suicide. He was in Thailand and he was found hung in the closet of a luxury hotel room in Bangkok where he was in the middle of production of a new film.

In the early 90s, I used to watch old re-runs of the TV series Kung Fu. I dabbled in the art, and so I definitely thought Kwai Chang Caine was among the coolest characters on television. I even bought Carradine's memoirs entitled "The Spirit of Shaolin". There was something about his character's humility that many, including myself, found appealing. He was an itenerant servant who traveled the land on foot, looking for work, and aiming to help those who were in trouble. Who wouldn't find such a character appealing.

And though I look back on those memories of watching that TV show fondly, my mind moves toward concern now for his family as they must be torn with grief at their loss. May the Spirit of God grant them the things they need most in this moment of broken-heartedness and mourning.

Remembering

Off To Be With Jesus, originally uploaded by chanchanchepon.

Today marks one year since my mom left this earth. It doesn't really seem like a year has gone by. It doesn't really seem real.

But it is real. One year ago, my brother called early in the morning to tell us that mom wasn't being really responsive. He had stayed the night in the room with her during her last night on this earth.

I imagine everyone in my family is experiencing today a little differently. A year ago, we were all together. This year we are spread from coast to coast in our own separate spaces.

So today, I am spending some time reflecting. I imagine everyone in our family will do it some. The last words she said to me were, "I love you," as I left her and my brother on the evening of the 5th. Those are words that will echo with me for years.

On the day before my graduation, I whispered in her ear, "I'll try to make you proud mom." At that point just a few weeks before she went to be with Jesus when she was having tremendous difficulty breathing, she responded, "Every day you make me proud."

My mom loved us. My mom is one of the most beautiful human beings I have ever known. And I not only knew her, but I got to hang out with her. Lots.

I miss her. My family misses her. If you knew her, you probably miss her too! She was that kind of a person. The kind of person people write songs about. The kind of person people cherish.

But she is with Jesus now. I can't even begin to imagine the applause of the saints as she went to be with her savior. I bet it was awesome. I bet it was awesome seeing her healthy and cancer free. I bet it was awesome hearing her creator say, "Well done, you good and faithful servant." I bet it was awesome as she was greeted on her departure from this world.

For us, it was awesome too. We grieve, but we rejoice for her. We share stories about her. We laugh, we cry, and at times we want to talk with her, but for now there is silence in response. She is no longer with us--she is in the presence of the Creator of the universe. She no longer sees through the mirror dimly.

In this culture we ilve in, grieving is difficult. I mean, it's never easy, but it seems like there is no space for such things. At times it feels like our lives carry a blistering pace. Like there is no space to slow down. Today, I plan to take some time to grieve, to remember, to reflect, and to rejoice for my mom, and for the goodness of the Creator in the middle of a sin soaked world.

Thanks for any prayers you offer up on behalf of me and my family. They are appreciated during this time, and at all times.

Myrrh

Myrrh, originally uploaded by chanchanchepon.

Yesterday was mom's funeral. You know it was so amazing to see so many of my friends come out and show support for me and my family, and to pay a tribute to mom.

My best friend in the whole world, Willie, was one of the pall bearers. Before the funeral service, he came up and gave me a bag with some small stones in it. I asked him what was in the bag, and he said it was myrrh, and that he had been wanting me to have it for a long time to be able to burn at times when I pray.

When he gave it to me I had a couple of thoughts. I took out one piece of myrrh from the bag for my dad, my brother, my sister, and myself. I explained to my family a little bit about the use of myrrh in Jesus' day.

You see, when Jesus was born, wise men from the east brought him gold, frankincense, and myrrh. The gold reflected Jesus's royalty--He is King of the Jews. The frankincense reflected his divinity--He is God in the flesh. The myrrh symbolized his humanity--Myrrh was used in burial preparations for those who passed away. The myrrh given to Jesus pointed to His eventual crucifixion where He conquered sin and death.

My mom is going to be cremated. I suggested to my family that we each place a piece of myrrh on her body, and it would be one last way we could annoint and honor my mom. As she is cremated the myrrh will burn and we will have honored our mom in a very special way. We each placed the myrrh on her body solemnly and reverently before her funeral service saturday afternoon.

As I thought about these special preparations, I realized that my mom was also blessed as my sister, her best friend, and my sister-in-law had a special evening with my mom the last night she was in this world. They took fragrant lotion and moisturized mom's skin with it as they shared a "girls night" with her. I don't think any of us realized what they were actually doing that night. They were preparing mom's body in a similar way to the woman who poured out the spike nard on Jesus. What they did was a good thing, and it deserves to be told again.

We're all going to miss my mom, but I'm glad that each one of us could honor her in some very ancient and special ways. She is a beautiful lady, and we have been blessed to be able to serve and honor her in beautiful ways even after she has departed from us.

May we all remember those who have gone before us, and live faithfully honoring the One who went before each of us to conquer the sting of death and give us victory and life eternal.

Off To Be With Jesus

Off To Be With Jesus, originally uploaded by chanchanchepon.

Yesterday at 1:10PM, my mom left her body on this earth, and went to be with Jesus. My brother had spent the night in her room with her, and called the rest of us to come down because she wasn’t being real responsive.

We came down and sat with her from about 9AM on. We prayed with her and talked with her, and told her how much we will love and miss her. We shared memories with her as she lay there before us. One by one, aunts, uncles, cousins and close friends gathered by my mom’s side and spoke words of love to her. She was sent off with prayers and words of love from so many people. (As I tried to recount this to you, I started weeping because it was such a beautiful experience, and I can’t fully convey to you in this brief blog exactly what was happening in my mom’s presence.)

Her room was packed. People were trailing out the hallway. She was loved by so many people. We’re all going to miss her, but we were all mixing tears of sadness with tears of joy in that room as we spoke to my mom. My mom is with Jesus right now. She doesn’t have cancer, or arthritis, or any number of other ailments that were afflicting her. She has joy unlike any we’ve ever experienced.

Watching my mom pass out of this world and into the presence of God, I am so thankful that we are a people of hope. The gospel allows us to persevere in hope for a day when there are no more tears, no more hunger, and all of the injustice in the world we see will be made right.

My mom is gone, but she has left a wonderful legacy and challenge to us as a family as we attempt to imitate her faith, hope, and love—and to tell others of the joy she, and we, have found in joyful surrender to King Jesus.

I’ve had a great deal of technical difficulty communicating with people over the last day, but I figured I might be able to use this blog as a starting point. Even as early as yesterday afternoon, I started receiving emails, txts, AIM’s, and voicemails of encouragement from many wonderful people. It has been unfortunate that I haven’t been able to respond to everyone’s encouraging words, but I am so thankful for your kindness, your prayers, and your support in this difficult time. It’s beautiful to see how the Church rallies at times like this to love and care for those in need and to bear one another’s burdens.

I know some are wondering about arrangements, and I would like to communicate that through this blog. The details of her obituary can be found by following this link and clicking on Patricia Ann Williams (that's Mom!). You can even sign an “online guestbook” through the funeral home.

I’m tremendously grateful again for the grace God has shown my family throughout my mom’s battle with cancer. As she told a fellow believer when they were both diagnosed—“No matter what happens, we win!!!” Indeed we are more than conquerors!

Thanks for continuing in support and prayers for me and my family. Please forgive me for an apparent lack of response, but I truly do appreciate your comments, emails, AIMs, txts, and voicemails. They are a blessing to both me and my entire family.