Falling Off the Cancer Roller Coaster

In February of 2004 my wife Shannon and I got on the ‘cancer’ roller coaster. The first plunge was deep and terrifying. Things quickly improved and we zoomed up to the heights of the expected remission.  A year later we hurtled down into another valley as the cancer returned.  Since that time the roller coaster ride has settled down a bit.  Some of the ‘ups’ have been great, with short times without any needed treatment.  Some of the ‘downs’ have been challenging, with chemotherapy that made life miserable.  Through it all I’ve remained seated with the lap bar firmly in place.  I’ve sensed God and others walking on this journey with me.  I looked to the future with hope.

Last month, in the midst of some tough news that the cancer had spread to the lining of her lung, we came home from her appointments with great expectations for a new and exciting drug.  This one is gene-targeted, which means it was chosen specifically to counteract a known defect in the DNA of her cancer cells.  This drug would surely zap the new tumors and bring us to a better place!  Again, in the midst of the ride, I remained seated with the lap bar firmly in place.  I’m not a fan of roller coasters, but I can tolerate them if needed.

This past week the lap bar let loose, throwing me from the comfort of the train.  After one month on this new drug her blood tumor count (CA-125) had tripled, bringing the numbers to heights not seen in a decade.  A CT scan revealed tumor growth that had occurred over the past five weeks.  The doctor overseeing this new and experimental drug took her off of it and sent her back to her main team to assess the next steps.  On Tuesday we saw the ovarian cancer folks, anticipating which new drug might show the most promise.  Instead, they put her right back on the same drug, explaining that ‘sometimes it takes a while to show effectiveness.’  Growing tumors…ineffective drugs…for the first time I felt a complete lack of control over the situation.  I didn’t feel that I had anything to grasp onto to bring me hope.  My fear of roller coasters came to fruition. 

This is where being a ‘futuristic’ guy can be pure hell.  I’m wired to plan ahead and dream about the possibilities the future holds (‘Futuristic’ is one of my traits from Strengthfinders…click here for a full description).  It’s what I love and do in my work every day.  Through these years of the roller coaster I’ve always held hope that the cancer would be held at bay indefinitely.  For one brief moment this past week that hope was ripped away.  Shannon holds great hope for this drug.  For a short time I didn’t.  My ‘futuristic’ brain went crazy on the ramifications of growing tumors and ineffective drugs.  While intellectually I knew that God walked with me, I sure didn’t feel it.  I felt alone on this journey, flying from the comfort of the roller coaster to fall to the depths of despair. 

Yet as I fell, hands reached out to pull me back onto the train.  Time and time again I heard, “I’m praying for you.”  I got to talk to my dad (who experienced his own journey when my mom passed away back in 1979).  I received wonderful supportive e-mails from my mom and siblings.  The staff I worked with surrounded me with hope and comfort (and allowed for a few tears).   I even received a ‘text bomb’ from assistants to the bishop from other synods (who were gathering for an annual retreat), with text after text of prayer and support.  I’m not alone.  God’s cloud of witnesses walks with me every step of the way.

This morning I read my daily Bible verses and heard words of hope from Revelation.  I needed those.  Once again (for this moment at least), I am seated with the lap bar firmly in place.  Shannon and I have been through this before.  Experimental drugs hold great promise and she has a history of responding well to them.  

This roller coaster ride is not yet finished.  There will be many more ups and downs on this journey.  I know I will need people’s hands holding me firm when I feel the lap bar breaking loose.  Some days will be filled with great hope.  Others will overflow with tears.  In the midst of it all, I am not alone.   Please help me remember that!

Welcome to Church?

Two weeks ago today I did an amazing job of making people feel welcomed and cared for!  I planned ahead to make sure everything was in place.  I had candy bowl full of Dum Dums to give to kids (research has shown that young children prefer pure sugar to chocolate, so I strove to meet that need).   Lights blazed in the darkness by my front door, welcoming young and old to come and feast on the treats I had to offer.  At first they came one by one, but soon large groups of children flocked up my driveway, receiving a hearty smile, a kind word, and (of course) candy.   They came to me and received a warm welcome.  I had a couple kids come back a second time.  I had candy for kids.  They came and received it.  Apparently I was doing something right!   

This morning I attempted to do the same thing.  Once again, I planned ahead to make sure everything was in place.  This time I have those little candy pumpkins, the ones made 100% from sugar.  I have the lights on, welcoming young and old to come and feast on the treats I have to offer.  To this point the doorbell has remained quiet.  Not a single child has come for my candy.  I’m standing here ready to give them the full welcome treatment, but something seems to have gone wrong.  I have candy for kids.  Nobody is coming.  What am I doing wrong?  Perhaps they like Dum Dums more than candy pumpkins.  Perhaps my outdoor light isn’t bright enough.  Perhaps my grand welcoming from a couple weeks ago wasn’t as great as I had hoped. 

Or…perhaps it’s not Halloween anymore and kids aren’t going to simply show up on my doorstep.  If I want to hand out candy, perhaps I need to step out the front door and find children out in the community who would like candy.  I suspect that the police would track me down if I simply got in the car and drove around, stopping when I saw kids to give them something.   If I’m actually going to give this candy away, I’ll need to go build some relationships of trust so I’m not just ‘the creepy guy with candy.’

In the past couple weeks I have read several poignant blog articles about the ways that congregations are (or are not) welcoming to visitors.  These posts, like this one from Thom S. Rainer, challenge congregations to do a better job of making people feel welcome.  Most congregations call themselves ‘friendly,’ but the experience of visitors often shows a different reality.  Congregation members are friendly to each other based on long standing relationships and assume that  their ‘friendliness’ rubs off on new people walking in the door. Often it doesn't.  People come to worship for the first time and feel brushed aside and ignored.  Many come looking for a loving community and only find a ‘family’ that has no idea what to do with ‘outsiders.’  Many words are written to aid congregations in figuring out helpful ways of making visitors feel welcome and at home.   

I fully agree that congregations need to wrap their minds around the issue of welcome.  We want to do everything in our power to connect people to a community of faith!  I have heard of ‘secret shopper’ type programs where people will visit a congregation for the sole purpose of reporting their experience of welcome.  This helps communities of faith to more effectively look in the mirror and understand how their actions invite (or drive away) those who visit.

But finding ways of welcoming those who walk in the door feels a little like my standing at the front door this morning.  There was a day when visitors flocked to churches.  Whenever someone moved to town they ‘shopped’ around to find a new church home.  It was expected.  It was like Halloween: turn on the lights, open the doors, and people come.  The biggest worry was how to make them feel welcome.

It’s not Halloween anymore!  Fewer and fewer people are actively looking for a congregation.  The reputation of Christian churches has taken a hit over the past few decades.  We can have the most wonderful, welcoming congregation, but nobody will know it if they don’t walk in the front door.  We’re left standing with some tremendous Halloween candy and nobody to give it to.

If we want to invite people to know this wonderful God that we worship, perhaps we need to step out the front door and find people out in the community.  It won’t work to simply get in the car and drive around, proclaiming Jesus whenever we see people walking by.   If we’re actually going to share this faith, we’ll need to go build some relationships of trust so we’re not just ‘the creepy folks with Bibles.’ 

Perhaps the ‘welcome’ doesn’t start at the front door of a church building.  Perhaps the true ‘welcome’ to someone comes in a neighborhood, at work, or at the gym as we build relationships with people.  We show the love of God to the world, not to manipulate people into attending our churches, but out of genuine concern for the other.  As the song goes, “They will know we are Christians by our love.”   Through these relationships we are then free to be truly welcoming and inviting.  It opens the door to deep conversation, where we not only share our experience of faith, but where we take the time to listen to others’ experiences. 

Perhaps the true ‘welcome’ to someone comes as we provide meals to the hungry, shelter for the homeless, comfort for the grieving, hope to the despairing, or community to those feeling alone.  All these things tend to happen outside church walls.

It’s not Halloween anymore.  How might the Spirit lead you outside the walls of your church building to welcome people where they are?

A Little 'MacGyver' in the Church

If only we had…then we could…

If only our church had a youth director.  Then we could attract families with kids.

If only we had a bigger building.  Then we could expand our ministry.

If only we had more young families.  Then we could have an exciting congregation.

If only we had a better location for our congregation.  Then our congregation would grow.

If only we had committed Sunday School teachers.  Then kids would start coming again.

It’s an easy game to play.  Here are the rules:

·         Look at other ‘successful’ congregations

·         See what they have that your congregation does not

·         Assume that if you had that ‘one thing’ then your congregation would also be ‘successful’

·         Grumble when you can’t find that ‘one thing’

·         Fall into despair

At the heart of this game is a very disturbing assumption: God has not given us enough.  Really?  Do we truly want to believe that the God of the heavens and the earth willingly withholds the ‘one thing’ that can lead to our congregation’s ability to proclaim the Gospel and change the world? 

I’d like to propose a different game based on one of the great heroes of 1980’s television: MacGyver!

MacGyver would never play the ‘If only’ game.  Not once did he give up and say, “If only I had

something, then I’d be OK.”  In episode after episode he used random things laying around to get the job done. 

·         Car won’t start?  Take the spring from a ballpoint pen to replace a spring in the engine…and off you go!

·         Trapped by the bad guys?  Take a soccer ball, newspaper, cotton balls, and olive oil to make a hot air balloon to signal those on the outside.

·         Locked in a freezer room?  Use the light bulb to melt some ice, pour the water into the door lock, and wait for the water to expand while freezing, snapping the lock.

While it never looked like it in the moment, MacGyver ALWAYS had enough.  He had a gift for looking at the things around him and figuring out how to combine them to do really cool things.  MacGyver always had what was needed to help him accomplish what heeded to do. 

The writers of MacGyver ensured that the right things were in the right places so he could bring them together in effective ways.  Do we dare think that God does the same thing? 

One story we see in all four Gospels is the feeding of the 5000.  In the Gospel of John, Jesus asks his disciples, “Where are we to buy bread for these people to eat?”  Philip knows the ‘If only’ game well.  “Jesus, six months’ wages would not buy enough for each of them to get a little.”  Philip knows reality.  They don’t have enough.

Andrew, on the other hand, notices what they do have, kind of like MacGyver.  “There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish.”  This is where things get exciting.  When you take a few loaves and fish and add the power of God you get enough.  In fact, you get more than enough.  They collected twelve baskets of left-overs. 

What if we truly believed that God has already given us enough to do what God calls us to do? What if your congregation played ‘MacGyver’ and not ‘If only?’

·         Not enough kids for a 5^th grade Sunday School class?  Take a grandma rooted in the faith, a local restaurant, and time after school and you get relationship and faith building over ice cream sundaes.

·         No organist?  Take four high school band members and someone with the ability to transpose music and you have accompaniment for worship.

This list could go on and on.  As we look at what we have and creatively (like MacGyver) figure out how they might fit together, all sorts of things can happen.   We will recognize that God has given us enough.

Luther Snow has a different name for the ‘MacGyver’ game.  He calls it ‘Asset Mapping.’  It’s a different way to approach challenges in a congregation.  Asset-based thinking builds on the idea that God has given us everything we need to accomplish what we're called to accomplish.  

With God, there is always enough.  It’s time to play ‘MacGyver.’  It’s an awesome, faith filled game!

When have you seen seemingly random assets come together to do great things?