So, I had every intention of a wonderful Labor Day weekend. I was going to fly to Pittsburgh, reunite with my family, surprise my friends as Kelly and I joined them for a few nights in remote Pennsylvania, and then some family time over the holiday before we all returned to Florida together. What happened instead was that I left the church early on Thursday because I wasn't feeling well. I prepared to leave, got the house closed off, dogs boarded, headed to the airport, and through two flights really started to feel worse. I reunited with the family, had dinner, and Kelly and I headed off to surprise my friends. Still feeling worse.
When we got there I just wanted to crawl in bed, and so I did. Got up for about 3 hours on Saturday, and after lunch went back to bed as my friends sat in the other room laughing and reminiscing. I felt very far away. That afternoon, after realizing that I had spent the past 21 out of 24 hours in bed, Kelly asked if we should head back. I reluctantly said we should. So I bade farewell to my buddies, got in the car and headed back to her parents house. That night I was up every two hours, shivering and never getting even close to comfortable. I didn't sleep, and I didn't feel very well. I really wasn't enjoying Labor Day weekend at all. I almost felt as though I shouldn't have come.
Sunday I got myself to a walk-in and even though the quick-strep test came back negative, the PA thought I was in the margin of error. Amoxicillin, lots of liquids, and rest. I was starting to feel well enough for a 6 hour day with the boys and family, enough to salvage some of the dream weekend. I think my Labors were catching up with me. Kelly was disappointed, I was distraught, and we just felt an opportunity missed. Only now am I thankful for the chance to get away and see my family again, or that I really did relish seeing my friends, even for a few minutes. I trust there will be other opportunities and better times.
Pastor Tim shares his thoughts on life, family, God, the church, and everything in between.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Grief
My article from September #1 edition of The Happenings--FPC newsletter.
Dear Friends,
Back to school again! As we move into the Fall season, and as I notice the lack of Fall weather we are used to in the north, it’s refreshing to see these new beginnings of a school year. As usual, it sneaks up on us and causes us to utter those words, “Back to school already?” I’m still recovering from the Spring. What happened to Summer? Ah, the cycle of life continues.
Today, as I write this, my little baby is turning 3 years old. At the same time, I’m grieving a very sad loss of some of our Pittsburgh friends. Their son died in the middle of the night over the weekend, due to a freak health problem that no one could have foreseen. He was 7 years old. As a parent, I am feeling the gut-wrenching response in a whole new way. And the more I watch my own children grow, the more painful news like this seems to hit me. I cannot imagine the position of those parents, but I can see the pain that might be inflicted if it were my own that were taken from me at such an age. Death is not easy, it is not ever expected, and even when we know the time has come—rarely is it experienced with grace. As a pastor I get to watch families go through that process—a privilege to be able to stand alongside the dying and those they leave behind. But no level of preparation, solid theology, or counseling can make the emotions change. People need to grieve, they need closure, they need acceptance. Ignoring these realities is not helpful, but often saying words that are meant to comfort are not helpful either. And as I think about the response that we have as social, relational beings, the best we can hope to do for those who grieve is simply be present.
In the moments of death and the moments that follow, I think the greatest need of those who are grieving is to know that they are not alone. It is a state of loneliness, a time of vulnerability, a place of huge questions. But in the state that most find themselves, no answers will suffice. It is emotion that demands the response and the emotion does not seek a rational answer. The emotion of grief only wants to know that it is not alone.
In the benchmarks that are reached by each person as he/she grows up, moments of the past must die, just as moments of the present and future are born. Today is also the first day of school for many around here. Parents are both joyful and grieving. Their little ones are beginning kindergarten, but their baby-hood has come to a close. A world of emotions once again floods the life cycle. But when we baptize our little ones we are acknowledging that they really aren’t ours. We are recognizing that they are God’s more so than any possession we might keep. And maybe it’s a way to let go, or a way to cope when they are suddenly taken from this life, but it’s also entrusting to God’s care the ones who mean so very much to us. And we don’t have to live without faith in the darkest times because we have acknowledged that we have not only entrusted, but we have also trusted. God will take care, God knows more than we can know, and it really is going to be okay. God’s peace for the journey. . .
Peace, Love, Hope and Joy,
Tim
Dear Friends,
Back to school again! As we move into the Fall season, and as I notice the lack of Fall weather we are used to in the north, it’s refreshing to see these new beginnings of a school year. As usual, it sneaks up on us and causes us to utter those words, “Back to school already?” I’m still recovering from the Spring. What happened to Summer? Ah, the cycle of life continues.
Today, as I write this, my little baby is turning 3 years old. At the same time, I’m grieving a very sad loss of some of our Pittsburgh friends. Their son died in the middle of the night over the weekend, due to a freak health problem that no one could have foreseen. He was 7 years old. As a parent, I am feeling the gut-wrenching response in a whole new way. And the more I watch my own children grow, the more painful news like this seems to hit me. I cannot imagine the position of those parents, but I can see the pain that might be inflicted if it were my own that were taken from me at such an age. Death is not easy, it is not ever expected, and even when we know the time has come—rarely is it experienced with grace. As a pastor I get to watch families go through that process—a privilege to be able to stand alongside the dying and those they leave behind. But no level of preparation, solid theology, or counseling can make the emotions change. People need to grieve, they need closure, they need acceptance. Ignoring these realities is not helpful, but often saying words that are meant to comfort are not helpful either. And as I think about the response that we have as social, relational beings, the best we can hope to do for those who grieve is simply be present.
In the moments of death and the moments that follow, I think the greatest need of those who are grieving is to know that they are not alone. It is a state of loneliness, a time of vulnerability, a place of huge questions. But in the state that most find themselves, no answers will suffice. It is emotion that demands the response and the emotion does not seek a rational answer. The emotion of grief only wants to know that it is not alone.
In the benchmarks that are reached by each person as he/she grows up, moments of the past must die, just as moments of the present and future are born. Today is also the first day of school for many around here. Parents are both joyful and grieving. Their little ones are beginning kindergarten, but their baby-hood has come to a close. A world of emotions once again floods the life cycle. But when we baptize our little ones we are acknowledging that they really aren’t ours. We are recognizing that they are God’s more so than any possession we might keep. And maybe it’s a way to let go, or a way to cope when they are suddenly taken from this life, but it’s also entrusting to God’s care the ones who mean so very much to us. And we don’t have to live without faith in the darkest times because we have acknowledged that we have not only entrusted, but we have also trusted. God will take care, God knows more than we can know, and it really is going to be okay. God’s peace for the journey. . .
Peace, Love, Hope and Joy,
Tim
Thursday, June 10, 2010
New floors




. . . but here's a look at some of our new flooring and many hours of work to give our home a new, functional feel. We're really pleased with what we've done and even though there's still some finishing work remaining, and even though I'm not taking this on as a new career, it was a great learning experience, we saved a lot of money, and we love the result.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Reformergents. . . UNTIE!

I was able to have a blog posted on the Presbymergent website yesterday. Give it a read and let me know what you're thinking. . .
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Building For The Future

This message was the last before we dedicate our gifts and pledges for our Building For The Future campaign at church. We'll combine our worship services this coming Sunday (a logistical bad dream--not quite a nightmare) and pack the house for a unique worship service. Even in the midst of the present economic fears, it has been exciting to see a church who is forging ahead with courage--not recklessly, but faithfully.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Bald is beautiful!

When Kelly decided to shave her head in support of her good friend, Harmony, we really didn't think about the impact this would have on so many people. Reactions have gone from incredible support, to concern for Kelly's health, to prayers for her friend and everything in between. Since Micah had more hair than the rest of us put together, we got him to join us in our bald look and we had some portraits taken to commemorate the moment. We were pleasantly surprised at how much we enjoyed our own family picture, so here's a glimpse of our session. The boys were momentarily cooperative, and I'm still amazed at those who can photograph children and get that split second where everything looks joyful. The moments in between were not! We're loving life and feeling the chill in the air a bit more!
