It happens to the best of us. We began with passion, wonder, and mystery. We began with innocence, naiveté, and a splash of recklessness. And then, after a period of time, it happens. The zeal we once possessed in following Jesus and living a righteous life begins to take a turn.
Zeal turns into lethargy. A mind rocked by the freedom of grace grows bored. The heart-melting truth of God’s love becomes abstractThe stories of Jesus healing as well as the miracles of the apostles would fuel our passion and desire to see a move of God in our day.
This maybe is not how your story began with Christ. Maybe you have never experienced this kind of wonder or zeal or recklessness that myself and many others possessed. To be fair we were also ill-educated, often arrogant, and somewhat pharisetical. But hey, we really loved Jesus. Regardless, no matter what our journey has looked like the chances are we will find ourselves meandering a path of mundane Christianity at times.
An Old Journal
Earlier today I sat down with a journal from 16 years ago. I am growing old now. Yes I know 34 may not be old to some of you but in looking at my journal from 16 years ago I sure felt old. Or maybe it was when I stood up after reading it for a while? Regardless, 16 years is a long time. I came to a page that talked about my desperation for God and how I am empty without him. What is crazier is I remember writing it. It was at a table outside at Starbucks, on the right side of the outter wall.
I will be honest. After reading it I felt that sense of “where has this been?” I then began to do my usual self-defeating talk where I heap guilt and condemnation on myself for not having the wonder and joy I was reading about! “Noah, cmon! Where’s the passion? Where’s the joy?!?
But then I got out some more recent journals from the shelf and reflected on where my own journey has taken me. Through this the Spirit of God reminded me that though my joy may not be the same as it once was all those years ago, it has grown in unique ways. In that moment, I needed that reminder. Maybe you do as well.
We Have Options
We all have a few options before us as we reflect on our own journey in following Jesus. We can look backwards and remember the days of old with a longing to go back. Back to the passion we once knew and held on to. Or we can say no to this option and choose to stay in the lethergy, cynicism, and any other emotion that usually accompanies life experience, new seasons, dissapointments, and so on.
Or you can do what I believe is most beneficial. You can appreciate the past, acknowledge the challenges of the present, and embrace the journey you have been on.
You are a weathered follower of Jesus. You have been around the block long enough to know things don’t always end great. Your good intentions do not always amount to a happy ending. You might not get your reward until the other side. Not everyone will always be kind to you or walk with you–even if they claim to follow Jesus. In fact, following Jesus itself was never meant to guarentee any “smooth sailing” on this side of eternity. That is something this “Weathered Jesus Follower” struggled to realize over the years.
These and many other lessons we learn. But in the end we should take all of it and allow it to add character and depth to our faith. We then position ourselves to be able to be used by God with our children, grandchildren, and others younger than us who are beginning as infants in Christ. If we stay lethargic and cynical chances are we will be a stumbling block in front of those with fresh passion. But if we embrace our weathered nature we will then be able to guide and lead the next generation.
One more thing. I am writing this post while at a desk made of barn wood from the 1920’s I had made a few years ago. It has the circular saw marks still in it from the old saw mill. It has nails still protruding out which have been ground down to soft metal. There are divers and curves and edges that are uneven. I have never seen a more beautiful desk. It isnt pristine, new, or naieve. Its weatherd. Its beautiful.
I encourage you to embrace where you have walked. The challenges and difficulties can lead you to new places of wisdom and depth. Don’t allow yourself to forget the wonder of Jesus. If you have, I have great news. The Apostle Paul says that it is possible to have a complete renewal of the mind. The Holy Spirit can do just that. Read the Scriptures with fresh eyes. Pray and allow the Lord to restore your heart to be able to feel his warmth and tough again.
He won’t restore the passion or joy of 16 years ago. Instead he will dig new and deeper wells of revelation and love which will bring forth a new passion that has been weathered by the realities and challenges of a life of following Jesus. Because in the end–lets be real– Kendal Jackson will always taste better then Welch’s.
Day in. Day out. He sat there. His knees bruised, and elbows covered in blood stained patches. His knees wouldn’t function like others because since birth he had a genetic defect which caused him to be paralyzed from the waist down. He would use his arms and elbows to maneuver himself to sit upright the best he could. He possessed no friendships or kin to assist him. This was how he lived his daily life. However, there was one day that was different.
As the bright sun rose that morning he gathered his few belongings. A cloth mat. Moth eaten satchel. Stale pieces of bread. With everything he had he made his typical slow crawl to his corner. Though it was a small space to call his own, it was his home. He had nothing and no one—only his corner. He passed the time dreaming of what it would be like to walk and run. To be included and valued like everyone else.
Each day he faced the same routine in this little spot next to the largest church in the city. His morning began with the religious folks passing by conveniently ignoring his plight. Perched high on their thrones of ego and vanity they would throw boulders of judgement and pebbles of slander.If he was lucky someone would throw a gift. It would come in the form of a faint and sporadic sound of metal clanging in his basket. Coins crashing against other coins as they are dropped by one who possessed empathy, compassion, or guilt. For this pathetic man it was the sound of hope, bread, or at the least—an apple. On this particular morning that sound was rarely heard.
Desperation Sets In
As the day went on, he was desperately searching for anyone who would help him. Finally, he saw a man walking into the church from a distance. There were two. The other was coming behind him. They looked different than the others. Their demeanor was pleasant but intently serious at the same time. It was the one who led the way that locked eyes with the beggar. Seeing this was his moment to get his attention he began to frantically yell to him. The man, not hearing him the first time, finally heard him the second time as the beggar reached a fever pitch scream.
“Sir!! Please! Look at my situation. Look at my body. Please… oh please. Will you give me something, so I can eat?”
It was at this time the second man who was walking with him caught up. They stopped their procession into the church and stood there as the crowds continued to pass by. The first man looked into the eyes of the one he traveled with. With a sort of unspoken gesture, they both knew they wanted to give something to this beggar.
The man slowly takes in his hopeless situation. He looks at his swollen and ragged knees. He pulls his arm back to see his bloody elbows. The beggar, feeling pain from his hand touching his arm, pulls him away revealing his deformed and crooked fingers. The man then looks past him to see the few positions he clings to as his own.
An Unexpected Gift
With an uncanny and firm face he says to him,
“Listen, I do not have any more dollars or coins which you would expect. I don’t have the common gift you seek each week from all of these people walking past us. But what I do have—I will freely give to you.”
The beggar—confused and intrigued—grabbed his hand. The man then said,
“By the authority given to me by Jesus of Nazareth, who is the chosen One, rise up and stand here next to me.”
The beggar was unsure what to do. He had never heard of this king who possessed such authority to heal someone. But he couldn’t deny the undefinable emotion coursing through his mind and body. Something was happening. He allowed the tension of the man’s hand in his to pull him to his feet. Crying out in pain and fear he slowly arose from the dust. The man held his shoulders smiling and telling him,
“You can stand! Come on! We will help you!”
It was then he felt the deformity from within his body leave. His knees strengthened. His ankles gave him support. Tears began to stream down his face. Not only his but the other two as well. Each of them realized in that moment they experienced something no human mind could explain. All they knew is that it was good and God had just done something among them.
The man was healed. He was no longer a stigma in the society of his day. He was no longer forced to bleed from his elbows and knees. To declare this new reality to the religious elite he burst the doors of the church wide open and danced his way through the aisles. Interrupting the liturgy and teaching he smiled and locked eyes with each self-righteous individual who elevated themselves above him. It was gloriously and appropriately petty. They were unsure what to do or say. They were speechless and dumbfounded. Marveled and angry. For they recognized this poor wretched one they were so busy ignoring.
A Life Beautifully Interrupted
The man and his companion gave a gift that morning on their way to the Church. It was a gift of healing. They restored value to someone who was ignored day in and day out. They restored someone’s dignity. The means by which they gave this gift was an authority and power they could not call their own. It came from Another. They didn’t wake up with this goal in mind. They weren’t seeking to find someone to heal that day. They were simply keeping their prayer committment with fellow Jews. But their routine, their route, their pathway was beautifully interrupted. I wonder how many beautiful interruptions await us? Are we even willing to be interrupted?
Three truths from a retelling of Acts 3.1-12:
Value and Worth before Dollars and Coins.
Give the gift of value and worth before dollars and coins. This is not either/or. This is both/and. People in need have deep layers of shame and humiliation. Restore their hope and heart first by sharing your life and listening to theirs. Learn from them, value them, and honor them. From a place of shared interdependence and restored hearts—give tangibly.
The two men, Peter and John, did not wake up with the intent to restore this beggar’s entire life. They simply walked. But what undergirded their walk that morning was the notion that their life was not their own. They were simply empty containers willing to be filled with the power and goodness of God and at a moments notice were ready to give that which was not theirs and in turn experienced a powerful move of God.
Be Bold, Be Brave, Be Jesus.
The same Spirit who healed this beggar through the boldness of Peter and John is within all of us who follow Jesus and seek to be filled with His Spirit. Do not worry when or how someone will be healed. Be obedient in prayer and boldness. It isn’t your job to heal. Its only your job to give what is within you. So be bold and be brave. You are living for an audience of One. May Jesus say of us, “You gave what you had so that others might find me. You were willing to be beautifully interrupted for my sake.”
Lord, give us more of your Spirit. So that we might have eyes to see people in need. Upon seeing people in need all around us give us the words to say as well as the boldness to get out of the way so your Spirit can work through us. May we be open to the spontaneous surprises of our day—bringing Jesus, hope, and love to all we come into contact with. We repent of being those who conveniently ignore the outcast, “annoying,” the difficult, the inconvenient, and all else who are equally deserving of your healing and wholeness which only come through you. Please burst the bubbles and routines of our daily lives so that we might be beautifully interrupted. In your name, Amen.
We had just completed our first lap on our floor. With each aching step—slower than a snails pace—my mind began to swirl. “God this is hard. I am in serious pain. How long is this journey going to be? Is this child going to make it and do well? Is my mother going to be OK?” It was only day three.
My routine in the hospital was pretty simple. Each day began the same. Around 3:00 or 4:00am I would be awoken for vitals and meds. It was hard to go fall back asleep, so I would usually stare at the ceiling and then decide I would get up and go on a walk with the help of a nurse. Then it would be back to my chair and then eventually back to the bed when I felt the need to spice it up. This process would repeat itself throughout the day mixed in with some Dr visits, reading, and mindless staring out the window at the Cleveland skyline. Bedtime was uneventful. Find the best position to sleep. When you find it… don’t you dare move. Take lots of meds. Get your nightly blood thinner shot and try to sleep off the pain.
But that day three morning was something. We came to my favorite spot on the floor. It was a window that looked outside. I loved going to it during my walk and watching the cars and everyone outside. Granted I was only in there for three days but at this point but my body felt like I had been steam rolled by a semi-truck. People and nature watching took my mind off of what I was feeling.
But during that morning’s routine I broke down. As Michelle and I stood at the window—one hand on the glass and the other grasping my IV pole—I sobbed. I couldn’t control it. Alarmed, Michelle asked what was wrong. All I could utter was, “It’s just so much… everything is hitting me. Hard.” I knew this moment would come. I am sure it will return at a later date.
Everything Set In…
What was hitting me was a wide array of emotions. There were the emotions of worry involving my mother. Which haven’t left. The emotions of wondering how the recipient was doing. I felt an odd mixture of humility, shame, and guilt watching Michelle and my nurses do literally everything for me. I went into the hospital as healthy as I could ever be. But in just a few short days I was experiencing something physically and mentally I was ill prepared for. Sure, I had knowledge, testimonies, and reading material. Nothing really prepares you to have a surgery like this.
The picture on the left was taken the night before. The picture on the right was a few days later. The bandage is covering a hole in which a drainage tube went up into the area where my liver was cut.
But there was something else that caused me to break down the morning of the third day outside of concern and worry. In that moment I was also overwhelmed with the reality of sacrificial love. The love that motivated our decision had finally set in. It went from talk to now something I see in the mirror, feel in my body, and it was costing me so much in that moment.
I had done interviews before this surgery. I had talked with Fox News out of NYC about “love” as the core motivator. I talked with a reporter from the local news about how common sense this decision was; because of “love.” A local newspaper wanted to do a story when they caught wind of everything and so we did. There too I explained that all of this was coming from a desire to “love” well—just as I would assume Jesus would.
But here is what I realized. We can use this word “love” quite easily. We can speak of a love for a friend, spouse, or God. But to bring costly action into the statements of our love; well it ceases to be just “love” at that point. It now becomes a love with some added adjectives: compassionate and sacrificial. That kind of love will almost always leave a mark.
It could be a mark that you bear on your body. It could be a mark that scars your soul. A mark that stays with you forever. Regardless, it is usually a mark that results from you loving sacrificially—with everything you have.
How did Jesus love?
I was asked a question by a reporter off the record before the surgery. “How is it that you are able to easily accept this kind of pain and struggle for someone you don’t even know?” Quickly I responded, “Didn’t Jesus? Wasn’t he reckless with his love? Wasn’t he driven by compassion and sacrifice for those he didn’t know?” Awkwardly, his response was, “I guess so.”
I really love Jesus. He is everything to me. I love him not only for how my life has changed because of him. But mainly for his example of costly love. The bleeding heart of Jesus was open to all those who were (are) lost, in anguish, in guilt. Thirsty for life, for love, for acceptance. He came to heal, to save, to free from bondage, to give rest, to empower—so that each one might know they are valued and honored. That’s how Jesus loved. It wasn’t easy and it was costly. So costly that his end was marked with torture and rutheless exectution.
While in recovery I have been prompted to study two areas: the life of Jesus and His desire for his church. Thus far In my study of the book of Luke I have realized a few simple things about his life. With this costly love in mind (the kind of love that is sure to leave a mark), Jesus was fully present to each person he encountered. He received more fully the pain of every person he came across. Strangers. Neighbors. Enemies. Family. Friends.
He took that pain and suffered with them in solidarity. He touched the deepest need in each person. Whether it be a cry for love, value, acceptance, vulnerability, or intimacy—he met each need. How? By demonstrating compassion. Grace. Mercy. Patience. Forgiveness. Kindness. By demonstrating sacrificial and costly love.
Jesus didn’t express this kind of love for the hell of it. He did it to demonstrate how Yahweh desires his children to live. It was the forging of a new way in how to love and welcome the poor and befriend the powerless, the strangers, and enemies.
Make no mistake. His followers were watching. They saw how Jesus lived—simply and poorly—open to each moment and each situation. Always open to the will of His heavenly Father. They saw how he was motivated. It wasn’t by a codified law or concrete set of legalistic expressions of righteousness. They knew. It was a motivation of costly love which came from above. A love the world had not known and was most definitely not prepared for.
Jesus the Agitator…
Jesus disturbed and agitated those who found him too radical, utopian, and unrealistic. Sadly, for those of us who love radically, we often hear these same accusations.
They would say,
“How can one give up wealth and share with the poor?”
“How can one renounce violence?”
“How can one love one’s enemies?”
“How can one live without security and money?”
“How can one become like a little child full of faith?”
“How can one eat his flesh and drink his blood?”
“How can one live in solidarity with sinners, rejects, and the broken?”
Those who questioned and wanted understanding were those who could not fit his ways and teachings into their own ideas and thus refused to trust him. As a result, they turned away. They found it impossible, unreasonable, and downright dangerous to accept the newness of his message. As I said in a previous post—Jesus was a badass in the purest sense of the word. He didn’t care what the “Righteous Monopoly” said.
As a result, his exression of love was costly. It left many marks in his young life. It was so costly that he even broke down in tears one lonely night in a garden. Perhaps then too Jesus was realizing just how costly this love was about to be.
Make no mistake. In no way could I equate my action with His. Ever. For goodness sake, he is Jesus who was crucified and tortured. I am a sinner saved by the glorious grace of God. I am nothing special nor of value. Only Christ within me.
However, the motivation of love is the same. Not only for me in giving a portion of my liver to a stranger but for all who would seek to love sacrificially. It will cost us like it cost him. It will hit us like a right hook out of nowhere as we fully realize just how costly and painful it will be and we just might be driven to tears. All of us at one time or another will have that opportunity in front of us. But what kind of love will we choose?
The Pain We Feel…
I beg you do not run from the pain this radical kind of love will bring. Pain is not the ultimate evil to be shunned. Neither is suffering. We must not flee it or be overcome by it. Those who flee pain flee people and opportunities. In fact, I believe Jesus invites us to accept pain. Nay, embrace it. To walk with it and even more to discover that it can be transformed by love into sacrament—a gift that brings life and enables new depths of love that is more akin to the love of God vs. the love of Man. Famed author and creator of Le’ Arche Jean Vanier dedicated his entire life to this kind of love. Much of what I have written here echos his teaching and example.
And when its all said and done… if your transition into a life of love that is compassion-driven, painful, and sacrificial—if that love bears marks upon you… be proud. Maybe take a picture with it so you don’t forget. Those are marks that will stay with you forever reminding you that you did your best to love like Jesus. And as you can see… that’s the only kind of love that can truly change the world.
Choose Compassionate and Sacrificial Love…
In conclusion I leave you with this: be compassionate. The world has enough hate, anger, and malice. What the world needs is compassionate love. A compassion that is best described by a beloved Dutch Priest named Henri Nouwen:
“Compassion is not a stooping down of the privileged to the level of those without privilege below. Neither is it a reaching down a hand from those above to the unhappy ones below. Nor a friendly gesture of pity to those who haven’t “made it.” Quite the opposite. Compassion goes and lives among people and in places where suffering and pain lives. God’s compassion is total, absolute, unlimited, and unbounded. It is the compassion of those who go to the forgotten corners of the earth and stay there until they are sure that not a single eye is still crying. It is the compassion of a God who doesn’t simply act like a servant, but whose behavior of service is the direct expression of his divinity.”
Let’s do that and do it well. With no regrets.
And if it causes pain, leaves a scar across your stomach, or a mark on your heart.
If leaves you weary, broken, and tired…run down and even taken advantage of to an extent.
If you are told you are utopian, unbiblical, naïve, or reckless in your attempts to love like Jesus…
Sobbing and unable to speak clearly, I mustered out what I could. “It isn’t going to work hunny. My liver is not a match. I will die if we try. Or I will be put on the transplant list immediately.” She was silent and as shocked as I was. We were both devastated.
Finding the strength to say the ultimate curveball I went for it unsure how she would respond. I explained, “Hunny there is something I want to tell you. They said I could be a match for a pediatric child who needs a liver donation. A child who isn’t going to make it.” Anxiously I prepared for her response.
Would she disagree? Would she be hesitant for a stranger? Would it be emotionally just too much after going through everything we’ve been through in trying to save my mom? What would she say? I knew I couldn’t force a decision like this. We needed to be unified.
Her blunt and quick response to this new twist in our story illustrates why I love this woman more than any other on this planet. It was a response born out of conviction, boldness, and deep compassion. With zero hesitation she said, “Of course we can do this. This is the Gospel of Jesus.” I said, “That’s exactly what I thought! I have zero hesitation. I just wanted to confirm with you.”
And that was it. We took a mutual deep breath and said, “Ok… we are doing this.” The decision took a whole 8 seconds for us. Call it foolish, reckless, or unwise (as some have). We call it compassion and following the path God laid before us. A life is a life and all life is precious.
In this post I want to give some background to Michelle whom I have the esteemed honor of calling my wife. Michelle has always been my best friend and soul mate. However, through our 13 years of marriage I have given an abundance of reasons for Michelle to throw in the towel. Not because of infidelity or abuse. But rather the quirks and challenges of me as a human being. I have not been an easy man to be married to and walk beside. I will gladly admit that.
Before getting married I never dealt with many of the issues which both blinded and stalled my development. Issues I was bringing in as baggage. There were bags stacked upon bags. Because of this I was always stunted in my ability to communicate and articulate my own emotions.
Along with this I have always had a fear that I would be forgotten, abandoned, or that those I love will walk out of my life. Sadly, it has been Michelle who has born the brunt of so many of these unfortunate parts of my insecure identity. Through counseling and lots of prayer as well as mentors by my side I have grown as a man and husband. But the journey hasn’t always been easy.And through it all, she never gave up on me. Not once.
A Radical Table Flipper
A little more about my wife and then back to our journey and her role in this story:
Michelle is a fierce and reckless follower of Jesus. But sadly she has often been misunderstood. She is not the cookie cutout, Beth Moore Bible Study loving, etsy shop opening, clean mouth straight laced Betty Crocker type. No offense to any who are. That just isn’t Michelle. To be fair, that isn’t me either. But what she is, to me at least, is as close a representation to the Historical Jesus you can get barring some of the obvious differences (beard, gender, Arabic skin tone, ability to speak Hebrew).
When I think of Jesus this is what I see and read: Jesus was a table flipping, wine making/drinking, “righteous-anger” driven, justice loving, people supporting kind of man. He didn’t give injustice the time of day. He wanted it dealt with yesterday. He longed for Gods Kingdom to come in the dark and dangerous places. Where there was no way, he found a way. Where there was a wrong, he sought to bring the Kingdom of God to make it right. His entire mission and drive in life was “other’s focused.”
I see so much of that when I see my wife and our marriage. She (and we) goes where others will not go. She refuses to give up on anyone who needs hope. She will have the time of her life with the unbeliever who is raw versus the professional Christians who’s noses reach the heavens. She will gladly spend more time with an excluded individual who is struggling to find community because of their LGBTQ+ sexuality and being ostracized because of it. Versus the one who has the squeaky clean life with a perfect “Quiet Time” record who just finished the latest podcast of Steven Furtick, while sipping a latte, and listening to Hillsong Worship. Once more, to be fair, that goes for the both of us.
She’s been told she is a “badass.” Multiple times by multiple people. We aren’t sure if it was meant to be a compliment but we both took it as such. When we see Jesus in the Gospels was he not also “badass?” I too have been called a badass but she takes the cake. Easily.
She will put herself in situations no one else would, to see something happen which no one else could. Whether its personal danger, a risky situation, or something that would be offensive to the safe and comfortable religious folks—if it glorifies Jesus and brings value to a person; she’s doing it. Even if the “scared, comfortable, and/or lukewarm” warn her otherwise.
She’s real, loves likes a good glass of wine and will most definitely curse if it’s the only appropriate word. Lets be real. Sometimes no other word will due. She will give everything she has to embody Jesus in this life. One time we discussed how each of us would want to be remembered. She communicated in her typical way. She said, “I just want to be remembered to loving Jesus and loving people. Actually, making an impact.” Simple. Brief. Non-flashy. Christ-centered. Did I mention she loves Pac and Biggie?
That’s a really simple snapshot of Michelle. She is a passionate Christian and walks the talk. But it has been her actions this past year which have made this recent decision easy.
When Life and Ministry Got Rough…
Five months ago we experienced serious turmoil in the church we lead. We both love leading our church. However, we both loathe church drama and politics. Our passion is leading a church to accomplish the things Jesus accomplished. During this time, we had lies being spread about us, our marriage, me personally, and so on. We saw actions from Christians that you wouldn’t expect as followers of Jesus. We had people we loved (and always will) leaving us right and left. They walked out of our lives quickly and swiftly. It hurt deeply.
Thankfully, Gods love and grace carried us through to a place of healing and confidence moving forward. We only see what is ahead and what is ahead excites us more than ever. We couldn’t be more excited to lead our church following this journey of recovery. God has huge things in store for our city.
But it was in this season of loneliness and pain that I broke down. One night in our garage by our wood stove I began sobbing. It was just too much. I was ready to walk away from all of it. Michelle walked over to me. She gently placed her hands on my shoulders and began to pray over me. She will never know how her words brought tremendous healing in my life. This pattern would repeat for some time. Even when I was difficult towards her—her approach never changed. Always loving and full of grace. She was an extension of the love of Jesus when I felt the furthest away from Him.
It was in this same season we received the news regarding my mothers need for a liver transplant. And there through each tear and restless night Michelle was there to give me encouragement and help me/us stay focused on solutions: i.e. live liver donation to save her life.
And so her response on the phone that day in regards to this child wasn’t a surprise. That’s just who she is.
She wants a part in helping a child get a second shot at life.
A second shot at running and skinning their knees.
Another chance to run and jump high.
A shot at having a year where there are no more hospital visits, painful tests, or fear of death. She, like myself, wants to do whatever we can to walk out the good news of Jesus Christ for this child that we do not know.
And so for all those reasons and more, I am thankful for her. She takes my breath away with her appearance. Her mind and heart are bottomless; full of wisdom and insight. Her convictions move me deeply and help me become a better human being. Her challenges lift me to new standards of excellence I didn’t know were possible. And her passion to make wrong things right in this world deeply inspires me and our three children.
If you read this long, you deserve an award. Seriously. I am straight up bragging on my wife. Kudos to you. And I admit, I think I wrote this one more for me. But to be fair, I believe every spouse ought to communicate just how much of a better human being they are because of their other half. You and I aren’t promised tomorrow. Why wait?
Honor Your Partner
Think about your partner, spouse, girlfriend, boyfriend, etc.
Recognize the beauty in what they bring to the table. Honor that.
Appreciate who they are and their quirks. Keep a sense of humor.
Thank them for their contribution to your convictions and beliefs. Grow because of them.Thank them for their abundant grace and mercy that was displayed when you least deserve it. Return the favor.
At each turn through this long journey I have Michelle my wife to thank for a large part of who I am. While she hates the limelight (as well as this blog post I am sure) I knew it was still important for me to communicate to all who are following our story that I owe a lot of who I am to my best friend.
Since I have been asked many times “why are you doing this?” or “How can you do this?” I felt it would only be right to explain the other person in my life who has had equal say in this fun new adventure. She too will be carrying a large burden of this surgery and recovery.
To be clear, she would be the first to tell you she is imperfect and has a long way to go. And Who doesn’t? I know I do. But… in my eyes, as her husband and soul mate, I see a gift given to me that I will cherish forever. Someone who I am still head over heels in love with. It has always been and always will be her and I against the world. Especially these past 8 months. But shouldn’t every true marriage be this way?
Thank you Michelle for helping me become a better man and Jesus follower. For being the wife I could of only dreamed of
Also, thank you in advance for the many days of pain and fussiness which surely lie ahead. I found an APP that rings with each press when I need something. So… that’ll be fun.
This experience of donating my liver to a child that we do not know personally has brought one interesting dynamic: communicating to our own children. For those who do not know our story you can read it in its entirety here .
Our three children look to me as their Dad who is to lead, protect, and be present for them. I will be transparent and say that I was scared at first to share this news with them in fear of how they would respond.
Would they be angry? Would they feel like they did not matter? Would they think a stranger was being placed in front of them? These and many other insecure thoughts swirled around my mind. All of that changed quickly when I sat down with each of them one by one to explain everything and to then hear their own little hearts. And each of them– in their own unique way through the lens of a child—communicated to me their fears, hopes, and raw thoughts concerning this operation for a child none of us know but are all praying for desperately.
I want to share their responses because I believe it highlights something so important for today’s world: the best parenting is and always will be through example. Michelle (who does a far better job than myself) and I both are so proud of their demeanor and outlook on what Mommy and Daddy are about to walk through. We are not the poster-child parents. We struggle and make mistakes. But they are showing us that maybe we are doing a thing or two OK. Here is their story.
Caleb Schumacher. Ten years old.
Caleb has always been our nervous one. He is always anxious and fretting about everything from a new update on Fortnite and its long length of time to getting to basketball practice on time to everything else you could imagine. And so naturally, my biggest fear was crippling anxiety that would make it really hard for him to have peace through all of this.
The day I found out I could not donate to my mom Michelle had explained to the kids. And so, when I got home they all gave me huge hugs. My eyes were swollen and red. They knew. Caleb quickly embraced me and told me it was OK, and he was proud of me anyways. It was later that night at tuck in time that I sat down with Caleb and told him how everything went down. But at the end of the conversation I said, “But Caleb, it turns out that my liver is the ideal size and shape for a child-like yourself who isn’t going to make it. A child who probably can’t run fast, jump high, or live a normal life.” I explained all the details.
And there I was… silently awaiting his response. I watched his young mind grapple with everything I told him. I could not save his Nana. He felt relief I was not going to get surgery. Now he was realizing I was going to go through with surgery. Not for Nana but now for a stranger. An unknown child. Those few seconds felt like months.
He looked at me, straight into my eyes and said, “Is this what Jesus would do?” I said, “Yea buddy. I think thisis what Jesus would do.” He said, “Then we are going to do it. Wow, we get to save a child.” I immediately teared up. Embraced him and told him how proud I was of him. I felt so good as a parent as did Michelle. Following this he did hug me tightly, cry many tears, and share his fears. He is worried I could die due to complication. He is worried about the pain. He is worried about many things that could happen to his Daddy. But none of those things were enough for him to doubt for even a second that it was the right thing to do.
Not only did he integrate his faith in Jesus into this reasoning, but he also used the plural pronoun “We” as in, “We get to save a child.” Make no mistake. That has taken years of parenting my Michelle and me.
Me and Caleb doing our nightly devotional. Studying and praying together.
For Caleb to both bring Jesus into the equation and include himself on this journey is a product of some intentional parenting Michelle and I strive for. We believe that our children are not a distraction from life but rather a gift given to be integrated into the life we are already living. And so, they serve with mommy and daddy. They help make decisions. We show and teach them Jesus each day the best we can. I teach all three something new from Scripture every most nights. We’ve done this for years. And it turns out, this is why. For moments like these.
Before I share the response of Kennedy and Camden let me give one more insight into how Michelle and I seek to raise our children. There are three things that each of our children know that matter the most. Every day I take the kids to school they repeat them back to me. For three years now we have done this. They have been the same three things. They can say them in their sleep. They are: 1) I am a Schumacher 2) I am loved, and 3) I am a follower of Jesus.
This first one means that they belong. They have a home and a family to call their own. They do not need to try to be something they aren’t to belong to another different group. This deals with their identity. The second one is clear. They are loved by us, their family, their church, their friends, and most importantly their God. And lastly, the most important, we are all followers of Jesus. Of course, one day they will need to make that decision on their own at baptism. But as children we seek to instill within them the radical love, grace, and mercy of Jesus. Turns out, it paid off in this season of our lives. Now, on to Kennedy… my princess.
Kennedy. Seven years old.
Date night for me and my girl. Yes, we sat on the same side of the table. 🙂
Kennedy has always been our most sensitive and unpredicatable one. We never know what we are going to get! That is why we love her. Among many other reasons of course. Kennedy and I have a bond that is deep and precious. When her and mommy but heads she always comes to me and I simply cannot stand against her. Her cuteness and sweetness melts me and I am powerless. And wow, the wrath of an angry wife and mom when that happens. It isn’t good. But I have yet to figure out how to overcome Kennedy’s charm. I know she has a weakness. I just haven’t found it yet.
I knew talking to her was going to be the hardest of the three. And I was right. As I sat in her bed one evening at tuck in time and explained everything to her as I shared with Caleb I awaited her response. There were no words. She did not utter any sentences. Nothing. She was looking down. She then lifted her head at me. Her eyes began to well up like a cup being filled with water. Her chin wrinkled. Her cheeks turned red. And she let it out and my heart broke.
She gasped and cried aloud and flung her arms around my neck so tight it knocked me back. I felt like a horrible parent. Here I am making a decision causing pain in my little girls heart. She sobbed and sobbed on my shoulder. And it was what she said next that brought me to tears but also encouraged me that she would be OK. She pulled herself back from my chest. From my shirt which was soaked with tears. And with her beautiful blue eyes she looked at me and said, “Daddy, I am so nervous for you. I am so scared for you. It’s going to hurt. You are going to be in pain. But it’s OK. You can do this. Its OK.” I said, “Kennedy are you sure? Do you know why we are doing this?” She said, “We are doing it because of what we say each day right? We are followers of Jesus?” I smiled. I put my arms around her and brought her in close. And in her ear, I softly said, “Yes hunny. It’s because we are followers of Jesus.” And then she wiped her tears and gave me a smile and said, “Can you just stay and sing me a song?” And so we sang our song an extra couple times that night.
I have taken Kennedy and Caleb to the Monastery at different times together. There we will pray and we always light a candle to represent those we pray for.
Again, she brought her faith into the occasion as well as “We.” Proud moment number 2.
Camden. Four years old.
Date day with me and Cam. One of our favorite things to do: go hiking!
Well if there was ever a curve ball response waiting to come it was going to be Camden. Our 4 year-old is easily our loudest, craziest, funniest, and most precious little guy. He is a ball of light and where ever he rolls he brings joy and laughter. I have never seen a child with energy like our little Camden. If he was deprived of all sugar and sleep for even a day—he would still run circles around the greatest marathoner on the planet. That’s our Camden. He is, as I always call him, our little man of God!
The night I shared this with Kennedy and Caleb was rough. An emotional day for all of us. Well, Camden heard Kennedy’s crying. He knew something was up. He barged in like 8 times while I was talking and singing to Kennedy. He likes to do that often. Even on mommy and daddy. Even at 1, 2, 3, 4 in the morning. It’s kinda “his thing.”
Well when it was his turn I came in and explained everything to him on his level. I wish I had such an in depth and spiritually earth-shattering response to write about. But I don’t. However, it was his response that I think I will remember the most. After sharing everything to him he just laid there. I knew he was thinking about everything. Trying to make sense of it all. I made sure he understood I was going to be just fine. That I wasn’t going to die or but that the surgery was still extremely serious and some risks were involved. We do two things in our house really well: transparency and honesty.
This is in the middle of an actual Christmas play. Camden decided it would be the ideal time to act like a monkey.
And so after a few seconds of quiet reflecting I just asked him, “Are you OK with this buddy? Do you understand?” He turned his head up at me and said one priceless sentence.
He said, “Sure Daddy. You’ll be fine. But Daddy? Will you please play Minecraft with me tomorrow? I want to build something with you.”
“Sure buddy. You and I will play tons of Minecraft and build something awesome.”
“Ok Daddy. Love you. Goodnight!” I’ll take it. 🙂
Imperfect Parents Doing the Best We Can
Michelle and I are not perfect parents by any means. We have our struggles. Too many electronics. Not firm on limits. Too messy at the dinner table. Late bed times. “What’s that? Haven’t been to the dentist in a while? Ahhh!”Havent bathed in two nights? The list goes on. We are imperfect parents doing the best we can. But the one thing I will say about Michelle and I is we have never ceased from magnifying what matters most to them. And forever they will know what matters most:
They are loved.
They are Schumachers.
They are Followes of Jesus.
We hate the Michigan Wolverines.
I encourage you parents out there. If you want to aim at being the best at something; make sure its your example of love, compassion, and the teachings of Jesus as imperfectly as you can.
The response of our children has blessed us greatly. The response of my wife Michelle however, is what has moved me in ways she will never know. More on that soon.
About three months ago we found out my mother was ill. We didn’t know what was going on. But as my mom and our entire family continued to get answers from the doctor we found out she was (and is) in need of a transplant. Something I shared on Facebook about a month ago when she was approved.
When we found out she needed a liver transplant my wife Michelle did an enormous amount of research and found out that someone is able to be a Live Liver Donor. This not only saves one life but also two because it frees up a cadaver liver for another person. I can’t tell you enough how important live liver donation is. You can check out all the info you need on it right here.
For the sake of this story I will give some brief info. Your liver is extremely important. We found out it’s the second most important organ in the body according to many medical professionals. It is the miracle organ which does more than we could imagine and is the only organ that can regenerate. The surgery is an extremely serious and obviously invasive. The incision is usually 11 inches down the center of your chest and then heads left. A backwards L. There are possible complications and they are serious. I’m not gonna lie. And the recovery is daunting. No sugar coating here. We are fully aware of everything going into this decision. We are ready.
When we learned about this we knew without a doubt we wanted to do this right away. Michelle was tested but she didn’t match. I was also tested and we found out I am an exact match. O-negative. Zero hesitation, I am doing this. I want to save my mom and do this for her. She gave life to me. She brought me into this world. I am returning the favor the best way I could. I had never felt more excited for this moment.
And so off to Cleveland Clinic, Cleveland, OH we went for three days of testing like you wouldn’t believe. It was intense. Tons of blood given, MRI, CAT scans, organ imaging, psych evaluations, social workers, medical ethicists, and more. It was intense. Everyone seemed to believe everything looked great. We were confident and ready. We left preparing ourselves for the tough journey ahead. Before giving us the green light they needed to get one more imaging result back from a company in Germany.
The Phone Call That Changed Everything
A few weeks later, my phone rang. It was my coordinator. I could tell something was wrong right when she answered. I said, “Hey Katey let’s hear the good news!” Her response made time stand still. I froze in a place of paralysis and dread. It was all brought on by the tone in her voice. With somber regret, she graciously and lovingly said three words which hurt to me to my core. She said, “Noah, I’m sorry…”
Right then I knew it was going to be one of the hardest days of my life. I collapsed right then. Put the phone down. And I sobbed. I couldnt move. The reason I was denied was based on the anatomy of my liver. It was not conducive to what my mom needed. I would of either died quickly or needed a transplant right away. The risk was huge. Obviously my mom would never let me go through this let alone the Cleveland clinic. But Michelle and I begged for them to try. Yes, we are a bit radical in our love for others.
But it’s something she said at the end of our convo that threw me for a loop and would change my life forever. She said, “Noah, I am sorry your liver is not a match for your mom. However, your liver is ideal for a pediatric patient who won’t make it unless they get a liver transplant.” Wow. This hit me like a ton of bricks. I realized this was someone’s son or daughter. A grandchild. A classmate maybe. A child.
Right away I knew what I wanted to do. But I had to call Michelle. Her response was short, simple, and tremendously profound. She said, “Of course we will! This is living out the Gospel of Jesus!” As Christians who live a life of love, sacrifice, and compassion–this is the best way we know how to walk it out.
And so after more testing, more blood given, more evaluations, and many more days and weeks of waiting– we got news Friday January 11th. I have been fully approved to donate a portion of my liver to save the life of a child.
The Joy of Giving Life
We have been given a gift. Michelle, myself, and our three wonderful children. As a family we have the opportunity to follow Jesus to a depth we could only ever dream of. We will be able to meet the need of a family who is praying for a miracle for their child. I could never walk away. How could I?
As a father I can’t walk away.
As a descent human being who loves to love all people no questions asked– I can’t.
As a follower of the teachings of a man named Jesus…who instructs us to lay down our lives for our neighbor– I cant.
Myself as a person and us as a family live by two key principles:
– Life is a currency meant to be lived out for the betterment and welfare of others… Not ourselves.
– You have nothing to lose by giving everything you have. You have everything to lose by clinging to what you already have.
Some have said to me, “Why would you do this for a stranger? It’s anonymous! You won’t know this person!” I know. And with all do respect, who the hell cares? A life is a life. Jesus commanded us to be compassionate to our neighbor. To go and do likewise. Where does it say we must know the person? It doesn’t matter who it is. Do we say this to firefighters or soldiers or policemen? How much more so for the Christian who’s identity is wrapped up in sacrificial giving… even unto death?
Some have already said, “But you have kids and a wife!” I am aware. This is a family decision. What was our children’s response? “Wow Daddy. We get to save a life! That’s what Jesus would do right?” We are all in this together. We have made this decision as a family to take a risk, step out of the boat, and put action with our convictions. Something I pray and wish many other “Christians” would do.
This isn’t about us. This isn’t about my decision. We could care less about notoriety. This is about being obedient to the path before us. This gift and honor is before us and we are ready. We have peace. We know it will be difficult. Recovery will be daunting. We are looking at 2-4 months away. Surgery will be extremely invasive. There will be pain. But its worth every single part. Because we believe that life is lived and given freely out for #EverybodyAlways.
Our Excitement For the Future
I want to give a word of encouragment to the church Michelle and I are honored to lead. I have never been more excited about HighMill Church, being your Lead Pastor, and the direction we are headed. The past 8 months have been a season of preparation for something new and fresh God is doing. Michelle and I have never felt more free, excited, and ready to lead into a glorious future! One that is centered around compassion for all and “Going and Doing Likewise.” I am excited to get through this and get back to leading an amazing church community! We got this! Let’s rally together. We need each other in the coming months. We will not miss a beat in this interim period. I am confident in the leader coming in to lead us and keep us focused on the love and truth of Jesus.
Lastly, thank you to my amazing wife Michelle. You are my inspiration and my greatest friend and love. It’s you and me against the world. We got this! This is a team journey. Not just me. You are my everything.
I ask that you please keep my mom in your prayers. She is the toughest woman I have ever met. She is a fighter and I love her with all my heart. It kills me that I can’t be this for her. I wont ever get past that. But i am who I am because of her as well. She is a radical Christ follower as is my dad. I trust God will walk her as well as our entire family through this. Have O- blood? Interested in being part of our miracle story? Nschumac@ashland.edu. Contact me.
Thanks everyone who read this far. It’s gonna be a long journey. But through it all, God is good and God is faithful.
Please share this blog post. The more people praying for us the better. As well as the recipient. Whoever you are… we pray you will receive a second chance at life and be a world changer! Someone who grows to love others with no strings attatched.
Many have asked how they can be part of this journey with us. We have decided that we will take a pay cut to alleviate the financial strain upon our church as well as feeling it is the right thing to do. And so we are going to do our best to raise support. We have also been instructed to raise support to cover any unforseen and unexpected costs that hit our family during the recovery period. And so here the three avenues set up by our support team:
A dear friend decided to begin a GoFundMe page. Visit here for the page.
You can call 1-330-497-3166 and speak with Emily Presley who is our Front Office Manager at HighMill Church. They have established a “Pastor’s Fund” which will be available for my wife and I and our family for any needs throughout recovery.
Lastly, if your local, there will be a fundraising benefit dinner February 6th 6-8:00 PM at HighMill Church in Canton, OH. For directions, click here. Feel free to drop by for some great food, an update on surgery and recovery, as well as literature detailing Live Liver Donation.
Thanks everyone. We will be sharing our story, pictures, and updates through my blog. Be sure and follow along with us!
In the love and peace of Christ Jesus our Lord,
Noah and Michelle Schumacher
Philippians 1:21- To Live is Christ; and To Die is Gain.
One of the reasons many people love the Gospel of John is due to the many encounters Jesus has with individuals. Whether it be the woman at the well in John 4 or with Nathaniel and Jesus in John 1 . Or even the infamous one on one encounter with Peter near the conclusion of the gospel. This one on one dynamic produces within us a certain ease and comfort as we read these stories because we can imagine ourselves in the position of the one to whom Jesus is ministering to.
Well if there is one thing I have realized in seeking to translate the New Testament and words of Jesus from the original Greek to our modern English, it’s that certain things get lost in translation. Literally.
You vs. Y’all
While there are many idioms, language quirks, and even metaphors that make up this list there is one functional pronoun issue that tops them all. That would be You vs. y’all.
In Koine Greek language, the language of the New Testament, there is both a singular and a plural “you.” A singular “to you” is σοι, pronounced like “soy.” While a plural “to you” is ὑμῖν, which is pronounced “who-min.” I am sure if you look closely, even if you can’t read Greek, you will notice the difference. Well for us as English-speaking people, we lack that difference. Except in the south where we will often hear “y’all” which is short for “you all.”
So why is this an issue? Well often times in these “one on one” stories of Jesus and another he speaks directly to them as individuals (σοι). However, in some of these stories he will then broaden out and a second time say “you” but this time, unbeknownst to us, include others as in “you all” (ὑμῖν).
Jesus, Nicodemus, and y’all
One such example can be found in John 3. During a nighttime conversation between the Pharisee Nicodemus and Jesus they begin to dialog about the origin of Jesus and His message. In order for Nicodemus to rightly understand this profound truth Jesus declares that he must be “born from above” or as some call it “born again.” This means to come into a saving, redeeming, and confessional relationship with Jesus and this new message of the Kingdom. However, the dialog is not meant for Nicodemus alone, but also others in Israel and the readers of this gospel. Both then and today. Keeping in mind what we read above, lets look more closely at v. 7.
NRS John 3:7 Do not be astonished that I said to you, ‘You must be born from above.’
Do you see the difference? In our Greek translation it basically says, “Do not marvel or be astonished that I said to you (singular), ‘You all, Y’all, everyone, must be born from above.”
Well how about that. We, the reader, the listener on the outside have just been invited into the story in a deeper way. This second “you” is in the plural form relating to everyone around Nicodemus. Not just him.
Dean Deppe, a scholar out of Amsterdam, speaks on the importance of this singular/plural “you” and its importance. He says,
“This dialogue represents a conversation between unbelieving Jewish leaders in the first century and the Christian church, led by Jesus. Without realizing it, Nicodemus speaks prophetically in the plural:“We know that you are a teacher who has come from God” (3:2), Then in 3:11-12, the dialogue displays the contrasting faith of Christians, on the one hand, and unbelieving Jews, on the other hand, when Jesus gives to Nicodemus personally (sing. you) a message for everyone (plural you)….This change in Greek pronouns demonstrates that all of us must enter into a conversation with Jesus. ” (Dean Deppe, PhD., Devotions on the Greek New Testament, 45)
Why is This Important?
Understanding this helps us realize as readers of this story and others like it that we were not just meant to observe the story playing out in Scripture but rather join in on it. We were never meant to be mere observers but rather participators placing ourselves within the texts we read and study.
This understanding of the singular and plural “you” only furthers that very truth. Since Jesus was not from the south where he would have readily said “y’all”, perhaps the next time you come across one of those “you’s” in Scripture, do a simple word search on Bible Gateway. It will tell you if it’s singular or plural. The result and context may just open your eyes and draw you in even more to the beauty of Scripture and the beautiful narrative which unfolds.
Want to try one? Read 1 Corinthians 6:19 and try to figure out who it is that serves as the “temple of the Holy Spirit.” The context is more important than you may think.