Sanctuary

Three weeks ago, I experienced one of the most difficult challenges of my life.  I buried my best friend – someone who had a profound impact on who I am today.
Rich was more than my childhood best friend.  While I lost touch with many people from various times of my life, Rich was the one person who was always there for me on the big days: my first time driving after getting my driver’s license, high school and college graduations, my first semi-formal, my first apartment, and my wedding.  He was that silent and constant presence who reminded me of where I came from and where I was headed. 

My friendship with Rich started in 7th grade when we both moved to a suburb of Philadelphia and started attending Bala Cynwyd Middle School.  It was a fairly affluent community with very little diversity.  When two Korean American boys showed up within a few weeks of each other with the same last name, it caused a lot of confusion.  We looked nothing alike, but we did both have black hair and traditional Asian features, and since we both had the same last name, we were always seated next to each other, as classrooms were often organized in alphabetical order. 

It seemed destined that we would become friends, as our identities became one.  Everyone in school treated us as one person, interchangeably.  It was annoying at first, but as our friendship grew and I got to know what type of a person Rich was, I was glad that people would associate me with him.  He was an exceptional student, athlete, faithful Christian, and an incredible driver (the measuring stick for driving skills in high school was based on how fast you could go from point A to point B without getting a ticket or getting in a wreck). 

Thinking back to my high school years, I remember one evening when we were bored.  We decided to see how fast we could drive up a very steep hill.  You wouldn’t believe how fast a Buick Century can go when pushed to the limits.  It was quite scary, but exhilarating as well.  (Disclaimer: I don’t condone this type of behavior!)  We then decided to see if we could go just as fast backwards down the same hill.  Looking back at this night, I realize how foolish we were.  This is just one of many reckless driving stories.  Reflecting on the past, Rich mentioned during one of our recent conversations that God was watching out for us during moments like these--that without God’s protection, there’s no way we would have made it to adulthood.  He was truly thankful and so was I.

Rich was only 40 when he died.  It seems much too early, in our minds that the Lord took Rich to be with him, but God has a day and time for us all.  I’m sure we can all think of moments in our own lives when we could have gotten into a devastating accident or suffered from a severe illness. Instead of wondering, why did something bad happen to us, maybe the question we should be asking is, “For what purpose did God spare us?” 

In seeing how Rich, along with his wife Jeanie, and his kids Timothy, Jeremiah, Bethany and his parents have dealt with the challenges of these past few years, they have been a true testimony to what a faithful family should be.  Seeing the smiles on their faces as they prepared for Rich to be with the Lord was amazing.  The peace I saw in Rich’s eyes during his last days warmed my heart, even while I mourned inside for the friend who I will not be able to see until we meet again on the other side.

Actions do speak louder than words.  Rich was definitely living proof of this.  Now with Rich in heaven, his legacy and his influence will continue on in all of the friends whom he has touched and the family he loved through his life.  I wish that Rich could have had more opportunities to share his life and faith with more people. I wish more people could have been blessed by Rich as I have been. 

Rich was the guy who dragged me to a Friday night bible study and then to a winter retreat in 1988.  That’s where and when I accepted Christ as my savior.  I owe my relationship to Christ to Rich.  It was his care and faithfulness that led me to my Lord.  As I shared with Rich, he went from being my best friend to my forever friend that night.

When I was in college, I interned at Dayton Hudson Corporation.  We had an opportunity to have a lunch meeting with an executive of the company.  As a young and ambitious intern, I was very excited by this opportunity.  The executive walked into the room, sat down, and asked us, “Who is rich in this room?”  No one responded.  He asked the question again, “Who is rich in this room?”  Once again, no one said anything or raised their hands.  The executive stood up and said, “I don’t talk to people who are not rich” and left the room.  We were astounded and didn’t know what to do.  His secretary came a few minutes later and told us that she would persuade him to come back. 

When he returned, he explained his question and comment.  He had not asked if anyone in the room was financially wealthy.  He just asked if anyone in the room was rich.  He said that richness can be defined in many ways—rich in health, rich in spirit, rich in friendship, etc.  He was making a point to us that regardless of our life situation, we can be rich in something.
As I reflect back on this remarkable lesson, I realize I am “rich” in more ways than one. 

Rest in peace my friend.  You will be missed tremendously, and because you were in my life, I can honestly say today that “I Am Rich.”

My name is Phil, but I am Rich.

 

As of today, I haven’t played Words with Friends in 36 days, but my little addiction to this online Scrabble-esque game really is just the tip of the iceberg.  It was one small thing I was willing to give up and examine during Lent as the first step of a longer journey.  When I told a friend of mine that I was giving up WWF during Lent, he retorted, “If you really wanted to give something up for God, you’d give up exercising for Lent.”  Did my friend want to kill me completely?  I couldn’t imagine not exercising for 46 days any more than I could imagine not breathing or drinking water for 46 days.

Ironically, I used to hate exercise.  I first joined LifeTime in 2003, six months after my daughter, Lauren, was born.  The only reason I went to the gym was to be able to shower by myself without having to hear crying in the background.  Eventually, I thought…hmm…maybe I should actually do something athletic while I am here, prior to showering.  I quickly progressed from yoga with Phil, to cardio classes without Phil, to crazy survival exercise classes only with other fellow crazies.  I had discovered another way to self-medicate.

Those of you who know me might guess that I was a good student in school.  I was an average student.  I did the bare minimum, because I read my way throughout high school.  I turned in every assignment and studied for tests, but these things were only impediments to my real life—books.  I probably read about 2 to 3 thousand pages a week in high school.  I was escaping my family life through books.

I have a strong faith in God, and it is only through His mercy that I have always chosen positive vices rather than negative ones.  I could have escaped through drugs, alcohol, or so many other self-destructive ways, but can you read yourself to death?  Probably not, and as a side benefit, my SAT verbal score was through the roof.

About 18 months before my father passed away from Alzheimer’s, I knew the road before me was about to be all uphill.  Some challenges in life are unexpected—they catch you unaware, but some you can see from a long way off.  In 2006, I was only partially prepared to walk the road of my father’s illness and death.  I avoided doing the emotional and spiritual preparation it would take to endure this season.  Instead, I had discovered survival exercise classes.  The pain and toxicity I felt could be temporarily alleviated if I drove myself to the brink in extreme exercise classes.  You can’t think about anything other than, can you survive the physical demands of the moment?  In these situations, there is a physical release that simulates an emotional release, and that is what I depended upon.

I haven’t been able to cry for about 30 years.  As a second grader, I hardened myself to the point that I could project an image that the craziness of my home life was not impacting me.  That wall between my heart and my tear ducts exists to this day, because the craziness of my childhood is still an active part of my life.

I am very task oriented.  For Candidate Week, I was the principle admin.  I had a 5-page plan in place with precise sequential details for every person involved.  Everyone kept asking me if I was okay with the workload.  It was a joy to serve in this way.  I thrive on executing a project.  I intrinsically know all of the steps required to move something from point A to point Z.  There might be 372 tasks to complete, but as long as I understand the final destination, I can move us there.

But what about the challenges in life that don’t have a clear point Z?  I have been on the same road with my family for the past 38 years.  I’ve been struggling with the same central questions throughout my life: how can you establish healthy boundaries with someone who is mental ill?  How can you show love but not be co-dependent?  How can you remain spiritually healthy if the other person finds fault only in others and refuses to seek help?  How can you be a good daughter and remain in a toxic relationship without being abused? 

It isn’t yet safe for me to cry, because I can’t see point Z, the final destination.  If I allow myself to cry, I may never stop.  I don’t have time to cry, because I have played the role of only-child caregiver in my family for so long that I don’t know how to lay it down.  I used to think point Z would be when my parents both pass away.  At that time, I would let God do whatever work He needed to do on me.  Our human plans and schedules are ridiculous, aren’t they?

Self-medicating--escaping through books, exercise, or even in small ways like Words with Friends are only band-aids covering a wound that clearly requires surgery.  Okay, Doc.  This Lent, in one small way, I’ve admitted I need help, and I’ve come in for a pre-op appointment.  I admit it.  I’m not the surgeon.  I can’t operate on myself.  I can’t heal myself.  Only You can do that.

When I run around my neighborhood, there is a point on the path where if you turn right, the total loop is only 3.5 miles, but if you turn left, the loop is 8 miles.  I used to always go right, believing I did not have the time or stamina to run 8 miles.  This past fall, for the first time, I turned left.  It was a conscious choice to run an unknown road, to not know if I had the physical resources to make it home.  This Lent, I took the first step in another leg of my personal journey with my family.  Agonizingly, I still don’t know when the race will be over.  I can’t see point Z, but I can feel God calling upon me to trust Him to provide the resources I need to get there.

Point A: Words with Friends.  Only the Lord knows point Z.

Lead on.

 

Today, March 18, 2012, the Covenant Members of Sanctuary Covenant Church attending today's vote, voted unanimously to affirm Pastor Dennis Edwards as the next Senior Pastor of Sanctuary Covenant Church. 

Welcome Pastor Dennis & Susan Edwards!

 

It was an incredible Candidate Week, capped off by a great message from Pastor Dennis Edwards. We're excited to offer video of Pastor Dennis' Message below. 

Members will be participating in a Vote of Affirmation on Sunday March 18th at noon in the Anwatin Auditiorium.  

This week, Sanctuary Covenant Members should prepare for the vote:

• Through prayer
• Reviewing the Candidate Profile
• Watch (below) or Listen to Pastor Dennis' Message from Sunday
• Ask Questions (email)
• Listen for God's leading

 

 

So when I’m not with my family, I turn on the notifications for the Scrabble-esque game, Words With Friends.  The little ding that rings when someone plays sends a fission (11 points minimum, but I’d never use it in a real game—talk about poor ‘s’ management…) of happiness down my spine.  Ding!  Who’s playing, and what evil have they done?  Most importantly, how can I thwart them?

I work out of my home, and I have a motley collection of about 5 virtual cube mates who play with me throughout the day—what a quirky bunch they are too.  I can waste a few minutes playing some words and smack texting with them while waiting for my video projects to encode or while cranking out a 50-disk order.

Last May, I began playing Words with Friends as a way to stay in better touch with my two nieces.  I think I knew from the start that I had found the game for me.  After losing a game or two to my college-aged niece, Jackie, I dedicated myself to learning all those annoying 2 and 3 letter bridging words.  Who knew OHO was a word?  Who knew that ‘gee’ could be preceded by an O to make ‘ogee’?  (Don’t get too excited.  No more of my WWF secrets will be revealed here.)  It was a rough start.  I lost a lot of games as I learned many of the cheapo words and figured out how to craft my own cheapo words.  My own husband played his crazy, fabricated “jezail” on me twice—though I think we all can guess who’s been “jezailed” the most in our long-standing series.  Now, nine months later, I am rarely beaten.  In fact, I get cranky if my win board is below 80%.  (I know--my WWF head is huge.  I apologize—I really do have a purpose for this blog.)

It’s all relatively harmless, but sometimes it is important to examine the medium with which you’ve chosen to fill the cracks in your life.  You know, the cracks—how you decompress, unwind, relax, let the “crazy” out, how you deal with problems, or how you avoid doing stuff.

Some of you know that I am a major insomniac-Type A+-work-a-holic-introverted-except-in-writing-ultra-competitive-compulsive-type.  Do I really need to play WWF at midnight, 2:30 am, 4:30 am, or whenever I wake up and can’t go back to sleep?  Do I need to pull over and play, because I know I have the perfect word set up on someone?  Do I need to play while on the magic carpet skiing conveyor belt at Buck Hill (darn snow kept fogging up my screen) just because I had a few moments of downtime in between teaching my kids how to ski?  I know you are rolling your eyes, laughing, and pointing at the crazy lady.  Hey, I’m honest about my addictions.  Can you be as open about yours?  Each of our gifts and strengths can be used in a purposeful or purposeless way.  Are you using your talents for the Dark Side or for the Light?  In life, my laser beam like focus helps me excel at my many commitments.  I will work tirelessly and tenaciously until a task is not only complete but executed with excellence.  The question is, do I always select worthy goals?  Into what am I pouring my life?

One day, I had a big smile on my face, and my daughter turned to me and said, “Mommy, you just played a huge word on someone, didn’t you?”  Yup, I had (124 points with ‘interns’ on a triple, triple, all 7 letters nestled in perfectly next to my friend Michelle’s wicked play of ‘cirque’).  But, every once in awhile, we must examine for what we are reaching.  Is the flag really worthy?  Is it important to be “crazy good” at Words with Friends?  Is that what I want my kids to see when they see me smirking?

I am a perfectionist.  I strive to be the absolute best at whatever I do.  If I run by myself, even just to train, I run to set a new record and believe it is possible every single time.  I expect it of myself.  I aim to reach the top even if it is painful or difficult.  I get super sick every time I run over 5 miles, but I still do it over and over again, because I see it as an unfortunate but necessary part of the journey to achieving my goals.  It’s how I develop mental toughness (the husband would just probably just subtract the “toughness” label and tell me to keep the ‘mental’).

I am going to give up Words with Friends for Lent (February 22nd to April 7th).  I am not Catholic, but I like Lent, because it is a time of reflection, a time to give up something, a time to remember the Lord’s sacrifice.  It’s a time to restore balance and perspective.  What do you use to fill in the cracks in your life?  What strongholds do you need to storm?  We all have our can o’ crazy spackle for patching the holes in our lives.  Maybe now is the time to replace it with something meant to last—something to which Jesus is calling you to if you’d just stop self-medicating with time wasters.  Our spackle is weak and temporary.  His is permanent.

I challenge all of you to use the impending Lenten season to capture an important flag in your life.  We all have a flag—fluttering just out of reach.  Isn’t it time, we set out on the path leading to it, rather than pretending it doesn’t exist?  In my heart, I know exactly where and what my flag is.  I've just chosen to deafen myself to its call by filling my mind with other things.

During my hiatus from WWF, I plan to study my Scrabble Dictionary (kidding, I don’t own one…yet)…and my Bible, of course.  ☺

Am I going to play Words with Friends again, after Lent?  Yes, but hopefully not as a crazy person but as a balanced person who enjoys an occasional word game with friends. 

To all my competitors and future competitors: take the next 46 days to brush up on your skills.  I will be back.  See you on April 6th at midnight.

Just kidding…maybe. 

(Clearly, the Lord has much work to do in my life—I’d like to give him at least 46 days to start the process.)

In case you missed it, or want to experience it again, here's the video from our 2011 Christmas Service, "Hope Realized"