Then Jesus came to them and said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, 20 and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.
Matthew 28:18-20
“At this point, it may be well to look again at the Great Commission itself.
It begins with the words go therefore .
The word therefore requires an antecedent, a reason for what follows. In this case, that antecedent is the word of Jesus, all authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me .
In the final analysis, the reason why believers are to go to all nations is not that we feel sorry for those who are lost, or that our culture is superior, or even that we have something to teach others. The reason for our going is the universal lordship of Christ, who tells us that all authority in heaven and on earth has been given to him. There is no place where he is not present.
There is no place where he needs believers to take him. The Lord who was at the beginning with God, through whom all things were made, the light that enlightens everyone, is already there. Christ is active in individuals and cultures, even though they may not be aware of it and even through an anonymous presence. Thus, the most that believers can do as they bear witness and invite others to believe is to present the name of Jesus, his teachings, his promises. But they are not taking him anywhere where he was not!”
González, Justo L., and Carlos F. Cardoza-Orlandi. To All Nations from All Nations : A History of the Christian Missionary Movement, Abingdon Press, 2013.
I’d like to share some of the Spirit’s formative work in my life recently. Perhaps someone reading has also been journeying through the crushing weight of helplessness; that place where our faith goes to be forged. May you sense the same emerging hope that moves beyond what our eyes might see.
Upon arriving back to the US, it became apparent quite quickly that although our son Brent was in a safe place, recovering from a mental health crisis, that a quick discharge and return to ‘normal’ was not on the table. Through some relapses, and doctor admitted medication mistakes, days turned to weeks, and weeks months.
As we send out this email, we’re on our way to meet with Brent and the medical staff in charge of his care. We’re anticipating his discharge, and hoping for acceptance to a nearby program designed specifically for first time, non drug-induced psychosis in young adults. Hopefully it’s the end of this particular chapter and we can now physically come alongside him towards ongoing recovery.
My favorite photo of Brent (2016) before he got into weight lifting and made me look small.
For Deb and I, there’s been a lot of grieving and growing as parents over the past few months. It’s felt like eternity. If we simply aren’t hurting with and for our son, we are actively educating ourselves as best we can on Psychosis/Bi-Polar/Mania so we can assist with his recovery. We’ve postponed our return to Romania until the end of August, but realize all of our best designed plans require holding loosely. Family, not work or ministry, is our most valuable human experience.
We see God’s providence clearly in surrounding Brent with the care he needs, but there are times we’ve also deeply questioned God’s involvement, or lack thereof. Our praying has often turned to lament; that place of sitting in suffering, and learning to find Jesus within it. At times our in-person visits were encouraging, but were also very difficult, especially when it was time to leave. Walking away and entrusting others who seemed just as unsure of any sort of timeline left us feeling numb, and very powerless.
Many of you can relate, those that have been forced to navigate heartache and confusion with those we deeply care about. Allow me to pause and thank each of you for the notes of encouragement and for all who have prayed for Brent, and our family! Mental health is an epidemic, a quiet one brewing beneath the headlines. Ignoring it, or succumbing to stigma doesn’t help our families, or society.
As we arrived, all I was focused on was Brent. The last thing I wanted to do was to strip down an aging wooden deck at our place in PA. My wife, however, along with the kids, began picking away at some of the chipping paint that was coming up in spots. The more they chipped, the clearer I sensed the invitation that I was to join in.. they were making the need quite obvious! Each day, the deck was looking more and more like it had a disease, as our crew of pickers sat and chiseled a section of cracking paint.
The problem was, it wasn’t just any old deck paint. It was deck cover paint, literally 3x’s as thick as paint and not supposed to come off.. like ever! As I researched online how to remove it, I learned that this paint had been recalled. The internet was filled with venting, and very sore home owners who were sharing their many creative methods of removal. Some answered with, “Ended up just buying new wood and laying down a new deck.” Well, we didn’t have the money for that, so I took a deep breath, and along with Deb and the younger kids each armed with their own scrapers, joined the community of calloused hands in what would turn out to be three weeks of suffering.
Sometimes the most meaningful formation takes place in the valley of helplessness.
I tried hand sanding, pressure washing, steaming, even ironing (don’t ask). I became familiar with all US brands of paint stripper, as well as sanding grit for orbital and belt sanders. After about 15 hours into sweaty labor, I was only around 10% finished, and found the only way to truly get to the wood underneath, was by hand, painstakingly with a scraper and using as much leverage and muscle I could muster. After letting it soak with a paint stripper for just the right amount of time, in the shade, inch by inch, the paint forged in the fires of mount doom reluctantly released it’s grip.
Over the course of the project, my mind would continue to drift to the pain in my heart. My son was struggling, isolated, at times confused and would call me throughout the day for a moment of encouragement and grounding. As I worked the wood, the reality of his plight began to fuse with my own journey as a son. The Spirit spoke many things to me through the painfully slow work as I began to strip away the defective, imposter paint. Inch by inch, I began to see the progress, and the emerging beautiful, original wood lying underneath. The act of restoring, of renewing, this was no flippant act on my part, no snapping the finger or waving some magic solution over the old paint. Every inch was deliberate, an intentional focus toward recovering what I knew was valuable.
Unfortunately, personal formation seems to be the slowest of all speeds.
At one point I was ready to throw in the towel, after a full week of work and only 50% of this deck prepared. It had become, in some sense, ridiculous, illogical, why was I even doing this? I began to see more clearly the parallels of my own life long journey, and the resistance of unbelief in my life that had been actively working against the loving mercy of Jesus. My heart, like all of ours, insisting on clinging to this ‘deck over’, terrified to rest into incisive work of the Great Physician. Why do we resist becoming whole? Why do we continue humanities tradition of hiding behind fig leaves of shame?
I began to marvel at God’s patience, and awareness of my own life. The Father’s love has been deep and constant over me through so many mountains and valleys. There were moments of physical and emotional exhaustion, where the scraper would drop (like the photo above), and I’d simply let go, and weep. My tears, however, were a synthesized mixture of the pain I was feeling for my recovering son, and the love I was receiving being one.
How different my life would be if I lived as if the love of God were true.
How might my embracing of such love assist in my transformational growth as a spouse, parent, child and friend?
After stripping off the old deck-over paint.Re-stained and sealed.
I believe our Creator sees the person we were made to be. Yet, humanity is excellent at covering our true selves with anxiety fueled pretense. He’s not judging us, as we judge ourselves. He has all of the tools, wisdom, and perseverance for our own heart’s product recall. He doesn’t throw us out, and start over, as much as we relish forgiveness and the fresh start. You remain you and I remain myself in this slow, deliberately renewing, good work of lifelong formation in the love of God. This love isn’t striven towards, but rested in.
Our Savior, I’m learning, delights in re-framing our pain, if we let Him. He wastes none of it. He also loves us too much to cut corners in this good work that He’s begun in each of us.
Behold what manner of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God. And that is what we are!
Blogging about our journey over the years has had it’s filled of up and downs. Mostly ups, but a few deep difficulties. I recall Noah, at the age of 5-6yrs old fell out of our van while Deb was driving down the highway outside of Kyiv, cracked his skull and ended up being hospitalized in very difficult conditions. The Lord was gracious. I had my health scare back when covid broke out, loss of breath, sleepless nights, and anxiety that crushed my own mental health. God was merciful.
We have journeys in this life, into the valleys, the places of formation. When we’re on the mountains of joy, we want them to last forever. The valleys of formation, they seem like they do. This past week has been one of those life formation valleys, an eternity of holding on, waiting for news, thinking the worst, losing hope that hope exists.
Brent has been in a manic, psychosis state for the past week. We flew over from Romania last night, after a wild few days of required visa travels to Hungary, and re-packing the suitcases Deb had just unpacked after almost two months of travel, temp stays. We’re here, but unable to visit Brent yet. Today we heard the first positive news of the week, that Brent is finally sleeping, his mind having been in a constant place of speed, and energy. The doctors have been God’s answer to our son’s cry for balance and stability. He was starting to lose grip on what was real, what was within his control. He was hearing things, and filled with the symptoms that point to the diagnosis of clinical Bi-Polar I.
Up until this event, I knew little about Bi-Polar, and dismissed it earlier because I thought it was only for those that struggled with depression. Brent is the opposite, struggling with the over excited mind that is crushed under the stress of change and incapacity to regulate sleep, then it spirals to the point of a ‘break’. Some breaks can last a few hours, but a typical first time break, one that reveals the true nature of the health issue, lasts days, and even weeks.
We are here in PA, we’ll settle this weekend and get adjusted to the jetlag. We’re unable to be with him, until either he is stable, treated and released or after May 15th when the final covid regulations are lifted. We have daily updates with the doctors, and the team of nurses. They have been professional, compassionate, and really take a liking to our Brent who has thankfully be willing to be treated, for the most part, and decreasing in stress and fear.
I wanted to post this, for our family, and for Brent as this becomes part of his, and our story. There’s still so much stigma and fear around mental illness. We’ve been so encouraged by the outpouring of empathy among friends that have emailed, messaged their gratitude for us sharing and being open – I didn’t realize so many out there are, and have battled similar scenarios personally or in their families.
How do we integrate our faith with the emerging knowledge of the brain, neuroscience and other advances? What is spiritual, what is material and physical? Could it be that this dichotomy is a false one, that these ‘either-or’ categories are misguided in the first place? What if it’s both? What if our spiritual reality is embedded in material one, and some of our material bodies are broken, but through the mercy of God we’re learning, as a humanity, to address those things that once seemed impossible.
We have prayed so much this week, we still very raw. God has, however, been encouraging us to trust Him, Brent is God’s son first, and God has something special in this life, in relationship in Him and to the world.
Thank you for praying, still. We are humbled, hurting, but all being guided through a valley by the love that is Christ and his church. We’re also learning a lot, knowledge that will make us more merciful, we pray.
Thank you to our new friend, Ovi who is a journalist at Radio Free Europe. They made a video about our life and work in Ukraine and now Romania. Radio Free Europe was a freedom of the press outlet that worked primarily by radio after WWII and during the Cold War. They worked to provide access to the truth outside of state controlled narratives. They have since re-started a few years ago, and are again in post-Soviet spaces.
