The importance of choice.

At times I go on and on about choices, and perhaps tend to be a little
too black and white. Life, sometimes isn't that easy. But chances
are those dificulties stem from past choices. Consequences hurt.
Here's the condensed version of my theology on choices.

1. The great thing about being an adult, is that we get to choose.
2. Your choice isn't right, or wrong sometimes: it's just your choice.
3. Sometimes, you need to wait to enjoy the fruit of your choice, but
good choices always bring joy.
4. When we fail to choose, we frustrate ourselves and poison others.
5. Growth and fulfilment come from choice.
6. We have to own our lives, in order to choose.
7. God will judge your choices: learn to choose well.
8. We understand ourselves, and others better when we choose.
9. We empower ourselves and others when we make choices that benefit
the comunities around us.
10. Owning other peoples reponsibilities and choices is generally not
healthy and creates dependancy.
11. Nothing robs life and liveliness like failure to understand and
own your choices.

Living a life full of liveliness includes grieving

I think it's obvious to anyone that knows me, or interacts with me often, that I'm not really myself at the moment. That's what drives me nuts about my moment in the ditch: I'm just not myself. Normally, I don't drive into ditches. I'm tired often, possibly entirely due to an emotionally draining last year but also due to my brain churning on bigger issues. I struggle to enjoy cooking and even feel overwhelmed with some of the basic tasks to be done. It's fair to say that recent events are still hanging painfully hard on me.

I've been reading articles here and there online about grieving. They all seem quite academic, and there isn't much in the way of practical help. Talking with Steve the other day helped a lot. Steve often seems to put things in a very practical way. He was expressing some of his own experience with his Father dying, and he said that his father dying just made things different. The world was changed, and getting used to the world being different is something that people that are grieving need to adapt to. That is the grieving process. That made sense to me, and is some good practical help.

If you had asked me a year ago how grieving would go, I would have said very little about the bigger picture, and talked about a relationship with the person that died. I thought my head would be swimming about my my Father and what was lost, and possibly yet undone between us. But instead it seems to be quite backward. I don't think about our relationship at all: nothing seems left undone, no unanswered questions on my mind, no unfinished business. But yet, my brain spins on a world that is different.

Scott Peck in 'The Road less Travelled' talks about balance and the depression that comes from letting go of the things we love in order to maintain that balance. If we are honest about life, things do change from time to time and we must let go of some things we love to maintain our balance. Or we have to lie to ourselves and avoid change in order to keep that balance. I'm just not sure what has changed so far, and what I need to honestly face.

Maybe it's as simple as giving up my chance to be and interact with my Father, and in him dying I've lost the ability, or option, to be there as a part of his life. That doesn't seem to be it, for me. Perhaps it's just understanding in a very personal way the implications of a life ending and I'm churning on if I've made the right choices that matter to me. That could be it. It's possibly as simple as being nailed with the stark reality of what is important in my life. Not in an angry way, but we only get one shot at a lifetime, and it needs to count.

It is very clear to me that my father fiercely created and lived the life he chose. Which seems so much of a tragedy to me because he chose not to share so much of himself, but locked it up. Finished, forever. Ironically my father would have scoffed at a lot of emotional noise. He'd say 'All I need is my Bible.' Sadly, that misses the point, or perhaps highlights it. I don't want to be detached from people and lock myself away. I don't want to fear and hide, I want to share in community with good people, and be balanced.

I choose to share with people, even though that means accepting the pains of life. I am so grateful for so many people, near and far, that care about me. Unbelievably so, at a time like this. I look forward to a lifetime full of rich sharing with the people that matter to me. That is what matters to me and I embrace that.

Just in case you're wondering how I'm doing...

A picture says a thousand words.

I have no excuse for this. I drove out for a coffee, like I often do. I had the coffee, was driving down a different country road (scouting picture locations) and was just thinking about things. I wasn't going fast (50 - 60 km/hour), no traffic, wasn't even bad drifting snow. I wasn't drinking coffee at the time, it was in the holder. I wasn't on the phone talking or text messaging: I had my seatbelt on, two hands on the wheel, staring straight ahead.

My one excuse is that the ditch was so filled with snow, that it was impossible to know where the edge of the road was. And given it was a gravel road, a very sharp edge. Regardless, once the tire was caught on the edge, it was all over.

Luckily, of course, I did have 2 different cell devices from 2 different carriers, my GPS was running, and I was just outside of town. I could see the cell tower. The tow truck was there within an hour and I was out in 5 mins with no damage: other than $100 for the winch. It was good that it came so quick, and lucky that the engine was still running, because with the wind chill at -30, it was the kind of weather you can die in.

The good news? My coffee didn't even spill.

Entitlement causes war

Why does no one speak up that entitlement is just wrong?

Israel launched it's ground offensive into Gaza today. All I have heard out of the media for the last week during Israel's aerial bombardment of Gaza is how war is not the solution: there must be a ceasefire and a political solution.

But that political solution is really dealing with entitlement. It doesn't matter if it's bankers on Wall street feeling entitled, or gangs in a big cities, racial issues on large or little scales or even a group like a union feels that are oppressed. Heck, even English and French Canadians want to separate because they feel entitled to not deal with each other. If someone believes they are entitled to something, there's gonna be trouble. Sometimes revolution is required to stop being a doormat and bring change. Been lots of good revolutions. But as soon as entitlement takes over, war begins, to take something you believe is yours.

Where is Hamas on this subject? Israel says it will stop if the rockets stop. Hamas keeps firing. In fact, during the last 6 month 'cease fire', there were 38 rockets fired from Gaza in the first 4.5 weeks. I'm sure there were operations from Israel too, but then in the next 6 weeks 290 rockets and a further 200 plus rockets before the aerial bombardment started. Plus the *kind* of rockets changed from little rockets to bigger rockets that threaten a million Israeli's. Hamas seems to have used the cease fire to get bigger and better weapons to kill Israelis with. They seem pretty bent on a fight to get what they want. They are waging war, are they not? Just not a very good one.

Israel feels entitled to things, so does Hamas. I think Israel's is open to Gaza and the Palestinians as a whole having their own autonomy. Hence, if Hamas stops the attacks, they stop. Hamas, as I understand it, want every Israeli dead and doesn't recognize Israel. They are entitled to death to Israel and to take over Israel to boot.

So where does this leave us? Someone please tell me who can control Hamas, and who can get Hamas to join with the Palestinians (which is in the worst internal mess since 1967) to decide that Israel is a State, and choose to stop fighting. No one has stated a goal from Hamas. Hamas that treats Israel as an equal. Until they stop feeling entitled to kill every Israeli, how can there be peace? Surely Israel will need to lighten up too, but they cannot if their neighbour is trying to kill them.

If you poke a hornets nest, you're gonna get stung. Does that make sense to anyone? Why doesn't the media talk about what people believe they are entitled to? Surely that is the issue here.

Choice and grief

It's been a week since My Father's funeral. One crazy week. Flying to Vancouver with all the snow delays, trying to get around Vancouver in the worst snow in 40 years, arriving home late the night before Christmas eve, one kid throwing up 7 times all night before Christmas, then the busyness of Christmas day and boxing day, the other kid barfing the next day, and yesterday Della and I sick and in bed all day long. Thankfully, I am able to sit up now, and start climbing out of the hole.

It's fair to say my head is still spinning.

Christmas day I did my typical calls to family, and picked up my phone to call my Dad. He wasn't in Alberta much, and would only call me after months, so he was not a part of my daily activities. It's hard to change gears and realize that I can't call any more. I should be able to give him a call, and let him ask me about the weather out here. Ask him how he's doing, and get a short reply of 'hanging in there'. Then silence. Followed by me inventing more conversation starters, and more short answers. Funny that my inability to call him, is what hits me hard.

That really was my father's way: he was always interested in people and chit chat, but it was never deep. Being an usher was perfect for him. The small talk was the bulk of the communication I had with my Dad my whole life. Unfortunately, for me. The loss of my ability to call him brings it all home.

Then at the funeral, some of my fathers' friends from church and colleagues didn't even know he had sons! Let alone 2 ex wives, step children and lived 60+ years under his middle name 'George'. He had been shunned before in a church, and I imagine he dealt with that by simply not giving up too much information. One fellow board member told me he shared his life story with 'John' (the name many in White rock knew him by in the last 7 years) but had no idea that my Father had a family. Arguably his closest friend talked about some of the same things, like how my Father never accepted the fact he was dying. He never complained, but he never shared.

I've known for years there was no chance of relational intimacy with my Father, and in many ways none of this comes as a shock. What I don't think I was ready for was how stubbornly he took it all the way to the grave. I believe it's important to have relationships, and always thought something would change. I never imagined that he would seal himself off so tightly that he would die unconnected to anyone.

I have been processing this in my own life over the last 20 years, but the sense of tragedy is so poignant now. A history of missed opportunity that can never be reversed. It's all lost. He's dead now, and can never share his heart with his sons, or anyone that wanted to have a relationship with him. How could a guy strive his whole life for a deeper relationship with God, follow the examples of Christ, yet miss out on actually having relationships?

I guess some would say that just because he wasn't outwardly warm and vulnerable, doesn't mean he didn't have deep relationships from his perspective. He often told me that he thought we had a really great relationship. I never thought so, and was always dumbfounded when he said that. He had a line, and that was that.

Given the fact that over the course of his life he did no have any kind of deep relationship with anyone: how could he visit with his Savior now? What would be the point of arriving in heaven to visit his Savior and all the Saints after avoiding relationships for a lifetime? Would Christ be interested in small talk and a weather report? I imagine he would have left heaven, irritated at being dead and would be wandering around Uganda now as a spirit, trying to help, even though everyone is ignoring him because they can't see him. I'm not sure he would really notice or care. What could there possibly be to do in heaven where everything is perfect?

I guess I'm just not sure how a man who filled his life with scripture, did his devotions daily, wrestled to hear God's voice daily, abstained from anything 'evil' or 'of the world', never did anything dis-honest, loved the Lord with all his 'heart, soul and strength' could have missed the fact that the whole point is a relationship which involves self awareness and most of all trust and vulnerability. If his goal wasn't surrendering his heart to others openly and by sacrificing his agenda to be Christ to others, I'm just not sure what it was. Is doing stuff good? Or is that just busy?

Yet it is God that knows and judges the heart. I don't know how God does that, and I don't pretend to be able to judge now. If God wants us to make choices, and we are free to choose, then we cannot judge other people's choices. Perhaps just being left with a sense of tragedy is what grief is all about. Maybe we don't get to choose why.

My Father passed away

My Father passed away 20 mins ago.

I feel confused, sad, not sure what happens next.

He's been fighting cancer, and in the last 2 or 3 months been getting sicker. Just last weekend I went to visit him. He mistook me for his brother Kenny, and I panicked a bit as he said to me that he 'didn't know what the plan was'. Even though he is unable to eat, and stand, last night he was asking to leave. The nurses even had to post someone 24hrs, because he kept getting out of bed and trying to leave.

I'm not sure if that is failing to accept the obvious, or refusing to give in. Either way it is my father. Years ago as a young man in South Africa, he understood and defined exactly what and who he was. My father always chose what he wanted, always knew what he was trying to do, and was always making progress. Unfortunately that included work more than family, and being logically consistent in his own head instead of in community and dependant on others, but that was his way. He was pretty fearless, and I think he didn't know anything other than 'get the job done' up to his final hours.

When I saw him a few days ago, and unable to really have a conversation, we just sat together. That's it. Just sat. I actually was doing email on my phone, which was fine: we were together in a simple and peaceful kind of way. Just a moment of being together. He put his hand on my knee, affectionately, and whispered, 'people talk too much'. I laughed.

My Dad, John George Milne, was born June 24, 1937 and died December 11, 2008 at the age of 71 from cancer.

Good things happen in the worst times

If there ever was proof that God is there, it's at the worst times.

With my Dad very ill, it's now that all the equations change. My brother pointed out that it doesn't matter what issues you've been holding on to, someone is dying and no one has the luxury of holding on to broken things any more.

We all seem to avoid dealing with so many issues because we're busy. True, you don't want to spend your life all melancholy and dwelling on the negative things that become your 'emotional focus'. That's called self pity. Pushing through the terror and fear that affects you is the process of becoming self aware. We all need to feel the pain and understand a few things: then we need to choose what we are going to do and believe. These are the moments that define who we are.

When we do get through to labeling some things in our own minds, we suddenly can do the right things:
- see the things we can't control (because they are not our to own) and choose to trust those things to be people (or God) who needs to own them.
- realize that we need to open ourselves up to our communities (or loved ones)
- let go of the things that we need to, embrace and dwell on the things that matter

Getting to that moment when we let go requires understanding of ourselves, and that only comes through wrestling with what really matters to you. When we do that, there is peace, rest, joy that we can experience there. We are no longer defined by the brokeness of the things we cannot control.

I'm perhaps overstating the obvious, but it almost seems magical how so much pain gives way to clarity and freedom. No, I'm not overstating it. That is magical.