April 19, 2023 - The Goodness of God

     Here’s an early morning update.  At the beginning of round two of this bout it appeared that Steroids had the upper hand and Chemo Drugs were cowering in their corner. 
     There are lots of ways for boxers to fight.  Chemo Drugs didn’t cower long.  In just a few hours at 12:30 a.m. he came out swinging. Some of the usual symptoms of chemotherapy have shown up as we had expected. 
     I am glad I listened to my body yesterday evening and was able to scratch so many things off my list.
     If you’ve read many of these blogs you know I have a lot of trouble being a receiver rather than a giver.  It is more humbling than I can express the way that so many people have been givers to us through this. 
     My mom was the best giver I have known in my life.  She was also the worst receiver.   And the worst for her was when the giver was one of her children. 
     Her DNA was passed on to me.
     One of the toughest things for me is for my kids to spend money on me.  I can’t imagine going to a restaurant and them paying for the meal.  Neither could my mom.  Maybe in one of these blogs I will tell a story about one experience with her.
     We get out of church on Sunday and Megan and Bryan pull out a present for me from the back of their car.  It’s not a birthday or Christmas, so it’s even more humbling.  It was a “hope this helps you get through this dad” present. 
     With the help of two granddaughters (there was no ice cream involved to draw in the third one) I opened the present.  It was a “picture” of words from one of the songs that they knew has meant a lot to me during this illness.
     In large letters across the bottom of the picture are the words “Goodness of God.”
     On the picture are the words to the chorus of “Goodness of God.”  The chorus is: “All my life you have been faithful.  All my life you have been so, so good.  With every breath that I am able, I will sing of the goodness of God.”
I got this lump in my throat as I read the words.
     I have sung that chorus many times over the last few months.  I have sung it in worship more than once.  I could sing it every Sunday and not grow tired of singing it.
     I have sung it in the Explorer as I have driven.  I sang it quietly in the motel room in Rochester with ear buds so the folks in the next room wouldn’t hear the music from the computer.
     I have sung it standing on our dock at the lake with a big lump in my throat.  As I write this I am singing it in my mind with that same lump in my throat.  
     Men my age prefer to use the phrase “a lump in my throat.”
     “With every breath that I am able, I will sing of the goodness of God.”  It is more than words to a song.  It is how I intended to live the rest of my life.  With every breath that I am able, I will sing of the goodness of God.  Some breaths in this may be more difficult than others.
     God has been faithful all my life.  He has been so good.  I am blessed beyond measure with more than anyone needs of this world’s things.  I have a marvelous wife and two wonderful kids and five grandkids.  I’d better not forget those two sons-in-law.
     I have two sisters who are two of my biggest encouragers. 
I have a church that has stood by me and believed in me and is returning to me what I have given to them over the years. 
       As I read the last chapters of some of Paul’s letters, instead of seeing all the names listed as boring reading, I realize how many friends and brothers and sisters Paul had.  I could write a “last chapter” of so many people who mean more to me than life itself.  Maybe someday I will.
       How else could I respond, even in what may be the toughest crucible of my life than in this way: “With every breath that I am able, I will sing of the goodness of God.”
       I have that lump in my throat as I sing it along with CeCe Winans again this morning on the computer.  I don’t care if the neighbors can hear or not.
       Thanks, Megan and Bryan, for being a tool in the hand of God.
 
Corollary. I wrote the main part of this blog on Monday night and sent it to Megan on Tuesday morning, just in case that today the Chemo Drugs would come out fighting and I wouldn’t feel like writing.  Just after I sent the email I looked at my phone and I had received a text from Megan.  That text included a video of Becca singing from memory the complete chorus to “Goodness of God.”  It is more than precious. They had done it the night before but hadn’t sent it, just like I had done with the blog.  After the text Megan looked at her email and this blog post was in her email.  You just can’t make this stuff up.
       As I watched Becca singing I honestly don’t know if I was laughing or crying.  I am not sure that I have ever laughed with a lump in my throat, but it is possible.