Some Mother’s Child

Posted on August 31, 2018 by Bob Bjerkaas

This morning did not go as planned.  We knew it would be a tough one – our daughter (who inherited her dear old Dad’s fear of needles and doctor’s offices) was scheduled to get her impacted wisdom teeth removed at 9:30 a.m.  I was hoping to get into my office by nine o’clock which would leave Kerrie enough time to double back, pick up Maggie from her first period class and get her to her dentist’s office.

But there was a problem.  One of our vehicles had been left unlocked and there was someone sleeping in it.  He had been by the house before – I knew his first name. He had enjoyed our tacos on a Thursday night or two.  I knew this young man’s situation – I had spoken with him before.  He was a young adult on a fast train to nowhere and right or wrong, his parents were giving him a dose of tough love.

So while Kerrie took care of Maggie, my son Cubby and I brought this young man into the house.  I made him coffee while Cubby fixed waffles.  He had a shower.  And I opened up my Bible and read the parable of the Prodigal Son and asked our unexpected guest if he was ready to go back home.  To his heavenly Father and also to his parents.

No one prayed any special prayers.  I didn’t hear angels singing.  But ministry rarely works that way.  Ministry is all about scattering seeds everyplace you can imagine and trusting that God knows what he is doing in causing your life to intersect with the lives of those around you.

There was a time when I might have reacted differently to this situation.  I might have called the cops.  I might have run him off.  I might have ignored him – pretending not to see him.  Often we are like Martha and we are so busy doing “good” things that we fail to take advantage of all of the better tasks God’s providence sets before us.  Years ago I read a poem that changed the way I look at broken people.  Perhaps it will help you to look differently at the people God has set in place around you.  This poem was written by Francis L. Kekler and was included in a short book of poems published in 1872 entitled,  Cheering Words for the Master’s Workers.

 

Some Mother’s Child

At home or away, in the alley or street,

Whenever I chance in this wide world to meet

A girl that is thoughtless, or a boy that is wild,

My heart echoes softly, “’Tis some mother’s child.”

And when I see those o’er whom long years have rolled,

Whose hearts have grown hardened, whose spirits are cold,

Be it woman all fallen or man all defiled,

A voice whispers sadly, ‘Ah, some mother’s child.”

No matter how far from the right she hath strayed;

No matter what inroads dishonor hath made:

No matter what elements cankered the pearl –

Though tarnished and sullied, she is some mother’s girl.

No matter how wayward his footsteps have been;

No matter how deep he is sunken in sin;

No matter how low is his standard of joy –

Though guilty and loathsome, he is some mother’s boy.

That head hath been pillowed on tenderest breast;

That form hath been wept o’er, those lips have been pressed;

That soul hath been prayed for, in tones sweet and mild;

For her sake deal gently with some mother’s child.”

Immediately under the title of this poem, the author cites in small italics an old translation of the divine truth that inspired this meditation: “And of some have compassion, making a difference.  Jude 22.”  Indeed.  Let’s allow our days to be disrupted by some mothers’ children as often as we have opportunity to show and speak the love of God that is ours in Christ.

Your Pastor,

Bob Bjerkaas

 

N.B.  Many thanks to my good friend Boyd Davis and his glorious retirement project – Next Chapter Bookstore.  He always sets little volumes like this aside for me and lets me get first look and best prices!  So click that link and send him some business!

Posted in Christian Living, Evangelism, Ministry | Tagged , , , , | 3 Comments

A Stone of Help: One Year Later!

Posted on August 16, 2018 by Bob Bjerkaas

“Here I raise my Ebenezer!”  These are words that many of us grew up singing in that great hymn “Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing.”  But what do they mean?

The second verse of that hymn reads:

Here I raise my Ebenezer; hither by thy help I’ve come: and I hope, by thy good pleasure, safely to arrive at home.

This hymn points us back to 1 Samuel 7.  In that chapter, the Israelites, led by Samuel (this happens before there were kings in Israel), won a significant battle against the Philistines, who had been persistently raiding Israelite territory.  When the victory had been secured, we read in 1 Samuel 7:12:

 “Then Samuel took a stone and set it up between Mizpah and Shen.  He named it Ebenezer, saying, ‘Thus far has the LORD helped us.’”

Ebenezer is a compound Hebrew word, meaning simply ‘stone of help.’  And every time the Israelites passed by that monument on their way from Mizpah to Shen, they would have occasion to remember that in their time of trouble, God had helped them.  And they would be reminded that God could continue to help them – even out on the wild frontier of their nation so close to a hostile neighbor!

When God has helped us in difficult times we must also set up stones of remembrance.  Otherwise, we are prone to forget both the love and power of God.  We forget that he has helped us in the past.  And we forget that he can help us in the present.

So, here I raise my Ebenezer… hither by thy help I’ve come.  It was one year ago today that I had surgery.  This blog post is one of the stones I have set up to serve as a reminder of what the Lord has done for me.

I am thankful that God led me to a gifted surgeon who was able to adapt and improvise when the surgery did not go as planned!  I am thankful that I healed!

I am thankful that the surgery was a success in its ultimate objective – no more glossopharyngeal pain!  I have traded constant pain with intermittent excruciating pain spikes for a generally present mild headache, numbness on the back of my head, a paralyzed vocal cord, and some paralysis in the left side of my throat.  It might sound strange to many, but with a year’s perspective, it was a GREAT deal!

I am thankful that my voice has been so remarkably restored!  Beyond expectations I am doing well with one vocal cord.  I sang for the first time at my friend Phil Monsen’s funeral, “In Christ Alone…”  Although it is exhausting, I can do it.  Check out these early and late sermon clips – my one functioning vocal cord is learning to do the job of two.  My speaking voice is at 90-95% functionality!

[Sermon clips to come…]

I am thankful for so many people who have loved me and my family so well – especially during the early months.  Too many to list.  But I am particularly touched every time I remember that there is a church in Matthews, North Carolina, a church I have never attended, that has a Seniors Bible Study that has been regularly lifting me, my ministry, and my family up in prayer.  So thank you Christ Covenant Church and so many others for your kindness!

I am thankful for my wife and kids.  I cannot say enough about how they have been a blessing and a source of hope and inspiration.

And I am thankful to my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.  He has continued to be faithful.  He neither leaves nor forsakes.  I am mindful of the fact that however fearful I may have been at various times – especially during the first months of struggling, I never felt spiritually alone.  He was present – “to cheer and to guide.”

Join me in my thanksgiving and praise.  And be sure to take some time to set up “stones of help” in your life.  The way of our pilgrimage should be littered with Ebenezers.  May they be milestones of encouragement in our walks with God.

Your Pastor,

Bob Bjerkaas

Posted in Suffering, Thanksgiving | Tagged , , , | 1 Comment

When Children Worship

Posted on May 19, 2018 by Bob Bjerkaas

 

I love the sound of kids in worship.  The smaller the kid and the louder the sound the more I like it!  So does Al Mohler.  And so does God.

You may find that claim to be audacious – extremely so.  But I believe that the Bible is clear – God himself has ordained the worship of infants.  And he has done so for the most astounding of reasons.

In Psalm 8:2, we read:

“From the lips of children and infants you have ordained praise because of your enemies, to silence the foe and the avenger.”

In the original text, the word translated above as “infants” is the Hebrew word yoneqim – it is best translated “sucklings.”  It specifically refers to babies who are not yet weaned.  Biblical Hebrew knows no word for babies or infants that connotes a person smaller or younger than a yoneq.

So far then, we have established that from the mouths of toddlers and newborns (a mildly to non-articulate bunch), God has established strength.  Strength?  Doesn’t the Bible say “praise?”  Yes, it does – in English!  The original Hebrew reads that from the lips of children and infants God has established ‘strength.’  When the rabbis who translated the Old Testament from Hebrew into Greek (in what we call the Septuagint – a translation dating from the 2nd century B.C.) worked through this Psalm, they chose to translate this idea of ‘strength that is established through peoples’ lips’ as ‘praise.’   In the first verse of this Psalm we are told that God’s name is majestic in all the earth and that his glory is above the heavens.  In this second verse we read that he has ordained – he has determined and appointed – that children and infants declare his strength.

But why?  To what end?  The second half of verse two points us to the most astounding of reasons: God has ordained praise from infants “because of his enemies; to silence the foe and the avenger.”

Imagine for a moment that you have enemies.  Powerful, resourceful, bitter enemies.  They are intent on getting revenge on you for every fault or slight they have experienced or imagined.  What will you do in light of their persistent antagonism?  Will you hire the best lawyer you can afford?  Will you engage the services of professional body guards?  Buy a gun?

When God was scorned and despised while his people were enslaved in Egypt, he sent an 80 year old man who stuttered to speak for him.  When he was derided by Goliath –  backed by a technologically superior Philistine army, God defended his name and delivered his people through a young shepherd with a sling.  Because of his enemies, he moves the hearts of infants to sing.  This is what God does.

Too often when we hear noisy or troublesome children in church we are annoyed.  We are distracted from our ‘adult’ worship.  And we are missing out on the opportunity to be reminded of this astounding truth:  in the audible participation in worship of the youngest of God’s people we see and hear God’s chosen response to the existence and the activities of all who oppose him.  God, whose name is majestic in all the earth and whose glory is above the heavens, could have simply shouted himself.  But he shows his strength in the first and earliest acts of worship performed by the smallest and weakest members of his church.

This week as you sit in worship and hear that child cry, remember the immense strength of our great God.  He has ordained – even in the incoherent praise of the nursing infant – a declaration of his own power so grand that no opposition can stand against him.  It is shocking that God would do such a thing, but isn’t that the point of this whole Psalm?  The very next words of this psalm express our wonder in the form of a question:

When I consider the heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, the son of man that you care for him?

Your Pastor,

Bob Bjerkaas

N.B.  I couldn’t find a good public domain picture of small kids in worship!  Let me know if you can.

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Delightful Limitations?

Posted on April 25, 2018 by Bob Bjerkaas

The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence…  Discontent is always greatly concerned with boundaries.  In many cases, our boundary lines are not literal – but they are just as real as a picket fence dividing two back yards!

Consider the young man who is discontented with his height.  He wishes that the boundary line of his “tallness” was further from the floor.  Or the couple who wishes they had more in their retirement accounts.  They wish that the boundaries of their IRA’s encompassed more money.  The young woman with a dreadful diagnosis – she wishes the boundary lines of her life included more years.  Boundary lines set a limit to what is ours.  My field of vision has boundary lines.  So does my family, my library, and my schedule…  Your life can be described according to such lines as well.

In and of themselves, those lines might not be so pleasant.  If my field of vision were to be considered as a brute fact, those boundary lines are not pleasant.   I am down to about six degrees of vision!  I am sure that you have some far less than ideal limits in your own life that you  find difficult to appreciate.  So did David the Psalmist – even when he wrote these words:

“The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance.”  Psalm 16:6

Psalm 16 begins with a request to be kept safe.  This psalm fits the context of its neighbors in the psalter.  David is under great stress and pressure in the face of King Saul’s continual attempts to find him and harm him.  David has less than ideal boundary lines for his number and influence of friends, for his broken relationship with King Saul, and for his sojourns in both Moab and Philistia among those who “run after other gods.”  Yet because David sees his relationship with God as being the one thing that both matters and gives meaning and worth to all other things, he is able to rejoice in the limits God has imposed upon his existence.  He sings, “LORD, you have assigned me my portion and my cup; you have made my lot secure.” (Psalm 16:5).

Where has God given us boundary lines?  Which of our boundaries is least delightful when considered from a worldly perspective?  Over which fences does the grass appear to be greener?  Can we view the limiting boundaries in our lives as having some beautiful and glorious purpose simply because we know that we have received all such inheritances from the LORD?

Let us pray for one another that we, like David at the end of this Psalm, might also have glad hearts and bodies that rest secure – because God, the Great Assigner of All, has assured us that apart from him, we have no good thing (verse 1).  And, as Ephesians 1:3 has taught us, “God has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ.”

Your Pastor,

Bob Bjerkaas

N.B.  The image is a public domain copy of Vincent van Gogh’s Wheatfields after the Rain, 1890.  I like how he used different shades of greens and yellows for each of the fields.

Posted in Contentment, Psalms | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

How Can You Repay God?

Posted on March 29, 2018 by Bob Bjerkaas

Psalm 116 Is without a doubt one of my favorite psalms.  It is the fourth psalm in a collection of psalms that were brought together for use in Israel’s celebration of the Passover (Psalms 113-118).  These songs all point people to the power and grace of God who saw his people in their distressful slavery in Egypt and determined to do something to deliver them.  Take a moment to read the Psalm.

This Psalm makes the national narrative of corporate deliverance personal.  It is not the people of God as a whole who are in dire straits – under the duress of cruel slavery and hoping that their male infants would not be killed (as described in Exodus 1).   In this psalm it is the psalmist as an individual who is in dire straits.  He is entangled by the cords of death – a different kind of bondage!  And he needs deliverance from death, from tears, and from stumbling.

Just as God delivered the people from Egypt, he delivers this man from his deep distress.  And right in the middle of this psalm we have, what is for me, the most interesting feature of its lyrics:

“How can I repay the LORD for all his goodness to me?  I will lift up the cup of salvation and call on the name of the LORD.”

In the old English, this was translated with the words, “What shall I render unto the LORD…. I will take the cup of salvation…”  Our more modern translations have softened the awkwardness of the original.  Charles Spurgeon’s comment is right on the money:

“’I will take’  is a strange answer to the question, ‘What shall I render?’ and yet it is the wisest reply that could possibly be given.”

This Psalm underscores for us the fact that our best  – indeed our only, response to the deliverance that God has accomplished for us is simply to take it!  To lay a firm grip on the cup of salvation that is offered in the gospel and, in the words of the Westminster Confession of Faith, accept, receive, and rest on Christ alone for rescue from our own bondage – from our own entanglement, tears, and stumbling.[1]

This April as we reflect upon and celebrate Easter Sunday and the resurrection of our Lord, let us be mindful of the fact that his saving acts do in fact require a response from us.  We must take the cup of salvation and call upon his name.  What can you give to God in repayment for his grace and strong mercy?  There is no repayment you can offer – simply take what he offers promptly and sincerely.

And publically!  Fulfill your vows in the presence of the people.   May the world know that you have taken that cup and that your God has truly set you free.

Your Pastor,

Bob Bjerkaas

[1] Westminster Confession of Faith, 14.2.

 

N.B.  The artwork is a portion of the larger work The Last Supper by Simon Ushakov painted in 1685.  In this cropped image I have zoomed in on the “cup of salvation” as it rests in front of Jesus with John looking expectantly at the cup.

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A Christmas Witness

Posted on December 1, 2017 by Bob Bjerkaas

Thanksgiving is gone and Advent is upon us!  Our friends are posting pictures of their decked halls and illuminated houses on Facebook.  We can now listen to our Christmas Carols and holiday jingles with abandon.   But do we have a Christmas witness?

“Of course we do,” you insist as you point to the kneeling shepherd positioned just behind Joseph in the crèche scene you recently set out on the buffet table.   And next to him is Balthazar the Wise Man with his gift of myrrh.   Yes, they were witnesses to the Advent, more or less (the magi didn’t actually make their appearance until Jesus was a toddler). But those aren’t the kind of witness we need.

Christmas requires a witness.  Not a porcelain rendering of an historical witness, but a living, breathing testimony to what you yourself know.

This is a key theme in the account of Jesus’ birth in the Gospel of Luke.   The unlikely heroes are those shepherds in your crèche.  Although there are scholars who are hesitant to fully embrace the idea, it is generally believed that in first century Palestine the shepherd was a figure who occupied the outer edge of respectable society.  He was possibly a dangerous man – at least an ambiguous one in his moral qualities.  He was to be dealt with cautiously.  And not at all on dark streets.

Perhaps the more cautious historians are correct and these men were not the dregs of Bethlehem.  But they certainly lacked any rank among their class when it came to getting a good shift!  Here they are in the dead of the night, confronted first by one angel and then by a mighty army of them.  They are told of the long expected messiah’s birth, are given a sign by which they will recognize him, and they set off to find this Savior hailed by the hosts of heaven.

Hurrying off, they found him.  And they fell down and worshipped him.  No, wait.  It doesn’t say that does it!  That is what the Magi do when they find him.  But the shepherds do not stop and worship.  In Luke’s gospel we read exactly what they did:

“When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them… [then] the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.”  (Luke 2:17-20)

These men are the first gospel evangelists mentioned in the New Testament.  They leave the manger and tell their neighbors that the Son of David who is the Savior of his people has been born.  They share what they heard the angels chant: God has been glorified and in the Messiah men can have peace.

It is fitting that these men be the first evangelists.  God came in the person of Christ – in a human body which “had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him.”  (Isaiah 53:2).  And so the first missionaries were men who likewise had no lofty credentials or social qualifications.  These would not have been men we would have found attractive – or wanted to have pounding on our front door at midnight.

And consider what this unattractive Savior with a dodgy set of promoters would do.  This Jesus would redeem lost sinners for all eternity.  And these shepherds would win an enduring place in the hearts of God’s people everywhere.

With whom will you share what you have seen and heard about the Savior’s birth?  Who lives in your Bethlehem who needs a Christmas witness?

Your Pastor,

Bob Bjerkaas

 

N.B.  The painting is a seventeenth century oil by Bartolomé Esteban Murillo c. 1657 – Adoración de los pastores.

Posted in Christmas, Evangelism | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

Celebrating God’s Goodness, a Gift, and Wisdom from the Mouth of Babes

Posted on November 23, 2017 by Bob Bjerkaas

I am grateful.  Many of you have joined me in prayer that God would help me through this recovery and that I would be able to return to my preaching ministry.  This past Sunday I preached my first post-surgery sermon.  The text was Matthew 6:25-34.  That passage of scripture contains Jesus’ famous words regarding worry.  “Do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear… But seek first [your heavenly Father’s] kingdom and righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” (Matthew 6:25,33).  This part of Christ’s Sermon on the Mount ends with his less well known words: “Each day has enough trouble of its own.”

So often we struggle to accept the fact that however faithful to God we may be, we still have trouble.  Every day!  The curse of sin still ruins the fields and we experience the same sorts of difficulties and thorny challenges that Adam did.   Work is toilsome and we eat by the sweat of our brows.  (Genesis 3:17-19).  Each day has trouble enough of its own.

When Your Days Have Trouble, Bob Bjerkaas:

And yet, Jesus gives us good cause to lay aside worry and focus instead on God’s kingdom and righteousness.  In my first recovery sermon, I wanted to unpack this wonderful possibility.  Too often our theology comes more from reggae music than from scripture.  We settle for “Don’t worry, be happy” when we should be aiming for “Don’t worry, seek God.”  The sermon had for its title “When Your Days Have Trouble.”  And this lent itself to a wonderfully funny mash up!

The powers that be very kindly wanted to announce two things on the monument sign in front of our church.  They wanted to welcome their pastor back, and they wanted to note the sermon title for this week’s sermon.  So the text on the sign read: “Welcome Back Pastor!  When Your Days Have Trouble.”  The sign elicited more than a few chuckles!  Laughter is a priceless gift that God has given us and a good sense of humor is a blessing indeed.

I received another gift later on Monday.  My good friend Tarik, who has been my lacrosse coaching partner for over ten years now, sent me a picture of something he bought for me that had just arrived.  A megaphone.  While it would of course be illegal to use on the sideline in a game, it will be interesting to experiment with it on the practice field.  It is a Croove Portable Megaphone with Siren.  I am trying to decide what the siren will be used for.  Maybe instead of calling out foul language (which can result in an unsportsmanlike penalty on game day if a ref hears it), I can just hit the siren and the voluntary conditioning can begin…  The Oak Park Lacrosse Team does have the cleanest language of any lacrosse team we compete against.  They have been well drilled in the truism that self-control begins with the mouth.  And for ten years the boys in this program have been discovering that if they can control their mouths, they can control their lives.

Speaking of mouths, on Monday and on Tuesday, kids used their mouths to really get my attention.

On Monday, I was talking to my youngest son, Nat.  We were talking about how I couldn’t eat everything I used to and how my voice was different.  I asked him if it bothered him that I no longer sounded the same.   He replied, “I can’t remember what you used to sound like. Just like I can’t remember what Jacob (one of his best friends) looked like three years ago.”

Acknowledging the past but living in the present.  Accepting that things change and that they will not stay the same.  We had a very thoughtful conversation about how we will always be changing throughout this life.  Some positive changes, some not so positive.  But we are still ourselves!

On Tuesday night Kerrie and I stopped by a parishioner’s house for a pastoral visit.  I had been very busy all day Tuesday with visits, and my voice was fading.  In fact something new and troubling was taking place.  I was once again having trouble moving my tongue and the left side of my mouth was numb and tingly – like I had been given a Novocain shot.  I will be asking my doctor and therapist about this.  Kerrie thinks I pushed too hard that day and need to limit my verbally intensive pastoral interactions.

Well, as the visit was wrapping up my speech was a little bit slurred and in order to help his pastor, Hemansh, who just turned eleven years old last month, volunteered to close in prayer!  What a blessing to have this young boy minister to his family and to his pastor.   I did join Hemansh in prayer for his family after his wonderful prayer – but what a wonderful pastoral experience –  Thank you Lord!

Again, thank you all for your prayers.  I think I am coming up on returning my blog’s focus to more general pastoral and devotional themes.  This has been a wonderful tool to not only record for myself some hopefully unique experiences, but to keep in touch with my friends and families.  I hope and pray that all of you are seeking and finding God’s sovereign will in your lives and worlds as you faithfully deal with the troubles you face from day to day!

 

N.B.  Kerrie took this fine picture of our church monument sign.

Posted in Christian Living, Homiletics/Preaching, Suffering, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , | 1 Comment

Preaching, Paralysis, and Pounds: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

Posted on November 3, 2017 by Bob Bjerkaas

First the good news – I will be returning to my pulpit on November 19.  It will have been three months since I last preached and, based upon this post title’s alliteration, I might be a bit rusty!  I haven’t gone three months without preaching for almost thirty years now.  It will be nice to get back to work.

For any of you who might be available, please consider yourself invited to church on November 19th.  I will be preaching on finding and following God in difficult circumstances.  The week after that will be a Thanksgiving sermon, and then we are into Advent.  I am eager to get back to my principal calling.

There is also some bad news that I would like to share as well.  This past Wednesday, November 1, I had a scope sent up my nose and down my throat to get a look at my vocal cords so that we could see what is going on in my voice box.  After an uncomfortable few minutes in which I was asked to say “eeeeeeeee” while the tube was poking around, we found some clarity.  As I had come to suspect, the left side of the vocal cords are in fact paralyzed.  This is new information.  The surgeon was and is quite certain that the nerves that control the motor functions associated with the ninth cranial nerve were not damaged.  But evidently a lot of things can happen in those types of surgeries.

The Ear, Nose, and Throat specialist I saw on Wednesday suggested a possibility that I hope and pray describes my situation.  He noted that sometimes when a nerve has experienced trauma, like that of a major surgery, the nerve gets “stunned” (his word).  The result is a temporary paralysis that can sometimes last for months. At some point, such nerves will “wake up” (his words again).  That would be wonderful!  Currently, I have full command of my speech as far as articulation and clarity go.  My challenge is that because I cannot close the vocal cords on the left side, I cannot regulate the airflow through my voice box and have only limited control of the pitch of my voice.  My vocal tone is very breathy, or hoarse, I can’t build up the air pressure necessary to raise my voice at all.  And my singing range is just about an octave.  My days of singing in the University of Maryland Choir are truly over…

I would very much appreciate the prayers of all who read this.  Lord, restore my vocal cords.  Whether they are truly paralyzed or merely stunned.  I would like to shout again.

In the meantime, I have been told that I sound like Marlon Brando in the Godfather.  So there is that…

The good news is that I am preaching again and soon.  The bad news is that my left vocal cords are paralyzed temporarily or permanently.  The ugly news is that I only weigh 144 pounds.  YIKES!

Eating continues to be a terrible problem and it has been compounded by a really unfortunate side effect to the vocal cord paralysis.  For weeks I have been asking my speech therapist and the ENT doctor about the really bad cough that I have.  The ENT specialist told me this past Wednesday that people with paralyzed vocal cords simply cough a lot.  And the cough is not productive (I know, that’s gross to say in a blog but keep reading – we’re about to get even grosser).  The unproductive cough is again due to the inability to build up sufficient air pressure to get the cough to be effective.  When my body feels that there is still some irritant that a cough should be removing, it puts the cough reflex on steroids and my diaphragm starts to spontaneously spasm.  And then, before I know it, that fifteen hundred calorie meal that I manfully fought down one swallow at a time is laying in the sink, or in a bucket, or looking up at me from the porcelain throne…  This happens several times a week – usually at night.

On the bright side, since the sensory nerve was cut, vomiting doesn’t hurt anymore.  I remember as a young father wondering how infants could spit up and not cry.  Now I know.  But I have got to stabilize my weight and then put some pounds back on.

What a wild train ride this recovery has been.  That attempted microvascular decompression of the ninth cranial nerve is the gift that keeps on taking.  But it gives as well.  Isn’t it true that when we go through difficult times, right alongside of the anxiety and the depression that come and go we also have that sweet sense of the Spirit of God accompanying and strengthening us in our deeper desponds?  I am reminded again and again that Jesus never told anyone that if they followed him they would have nothing but peaches and cream for the remainder of their life.  In fact it is the contrary in many respects.  And there is a reason for it.

Last week my father called me and read me a passage from James chapter one.  I will close by sharing it with all of you.

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.  Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”  (James 1:1-4)

May we all grow in our perseverance and have an ever-maturing faith as we patiently and joyfully endure whatever trials come our way.

 

N.B.  The picture is thanks to the Linked In account of Dr. Priyanjal Gautam who is associated with the NIMS Medical College and Hospital in Jaipur, India.  The image on the left shows healthy vocal cords in the breathing position.  The center image shows healthy vocal cords as they are when you speak.  The right image shows paralyzed vocal cords – one side will not close in order to produce optimal speech.

Posted in Christian Living, Suffering | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

Bald Spots, Pot Bellies, and Plugins

Posted on October 26, 2017 by Bob Bjerkaas

This has been quite a month.  At my two month follow-up with the neurosurgeon, I got a good report – things are healing nicely.  But he also said that my issues with speech and swallowing are going to take a lot longer to resolve themselves.  I had been under the impression that the “two to three month” recovery meant that in two to three months you would have no idea that I had been operated on.  Wrong!  The two to three months was the amount of time it would take me to regain a modicum of health and wholeness sufficient to begin returning to my normal routines.  He assured me that I would not know the degree to which my swallow and speech will normalize for eight months to a year.

A real sign of returning to normalcy was going to get my haircut last Wednesday, October 18.  The gal who cuts my hair has a beautiful Armenian name- that I can never remember.  But she took the scar in stride and did a good job of fixing the haircut my surgeon had given me.  There were, however, two discoveries made after the haircut when she held up the mirror so that I could see her work.  I have bald spots as a result of surgery.  One on each side, each about the size of a quarter or half-dollar.

Oh well.  I still have more hair than my brothers…

Eating is going well – but I have been losing weight.  I am only a couple of pounds from my seminary weight.  Because eating takes longer and involves a measure of concentration, I am simply eating less.  And some high calorie foods that I use to love – like cheeseburgers – don’t even bear thinking about.  Bread is very hard to eat.  I am mostly doing soups and good old-fashioned “hot dishes” when that is an option.  Pizza I can do, but only if it’s thin crust.

Yesterday I had a graphic reminder that much has changed because of this surgery.  A young man I have had the great privilege of coaching just committed to play Division I lacrosse at Jacksonville University in Florida.  It is a new program, but it will do well and Joey should get a lot of great experience playing LSM there (“Long Stick Midfielder” for any non-laxers).  In the maxpreps press release, he chose a picture of himself in action on one of our favorite rivals’ fields in sunny Agoura, California.  In the background, to the left of him in the picture, I am on the sideline.

Two things struck me when I noticed that.  First, that pot belly is gone.  And good riddance I suppose, although I think it did make me more buoyant – which is a good thing?  But the other thing I noticed was my left hand.  Applying pressure to the left side of my neck – trying to minimize what was often excruciating nerve pain while cheering the boys on.  It is nice to know that that is a posture I will no longer have to maintain.  And as I work out the speech and swallowing issues it is a great reminder that there was a good reason for risking the surgery!

During these past ten weeks of recovery it has been easy to completely forget about how bad the pain was and instead focus only on how hard the recovery is.  Pictures like these help us to remember that the past is rarely as wonderful as we make it out to be.  Solomon offers a piece of advice in Ecclesiastes 7:10:

“Do not say, ‘Why were the old days better than these?’  For it is not wise to ask such questions.”

The reality is that the “old days” had problems of their own.  And even if in some ways those days were better, how is it wise to dwell on them without appreciating that undoubtedly “today” holds some advantage over yesterday as well?

This past week I have also been very encouraged by a lot of folks who have been concerned that this blog was down!  Last night I was sitting with Kerrie in a small examination room at the Calabasas Urgent Care- she was having some really bad back pain we wanted to check out (just a painful muscle spasm).  After her appointment, while we were waiting for the nurse practitioner to return with some paperwork, there was a knock on the door and a familiar face said hello. It was another doctor who has on several occasions visited church with her family!  She and her husband have been reading this blog and she shared with me that they have been praying for me – and she noticed that the blog was down.

It has taken me three days to discover the reason for the site failing – it involved the email subscription “plug-in” that I use.  In its last update, something that loaded onto my site was incompatible with my site.  So it could not open.  I would never have sorted it out if it were not for Ezekiel at Bluehost knowing his stuff so well – thanks Ezekiel.

And I thank all of you who read this blog – for your prayers and encouragement.  I am doing well.  I am planning a return to full time ministry in early or mid-November.  My voice is not what it was, perhaps it will never be.  It tends to be very hoarse and I can’t make myself heard over the dishwasher.  My singing range is less than an octave.  And I have made my peace with the prospect of no more burgers or deep-dish pizzas too!

The old days were not better than these.  And “no eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him.”  (1 Corinthians 2:9).  My best is yet to come; isn’t yours?  Only love God through whatever old days and new days you are thinking about and experiencing – all will be well.

 

N.B.  The picture of the right side of my head pictures the bald spot that is opposite of the surgery site.  The cut started at the nape of my neck, went straight up the back of my head and at the top of my ears went straight to the left.  There were staples on the right side of my head, but I have no idea why. Presumably, this bald spot is due to having had some staples there.

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Spitting, Whistling, And Drinking Soda from a Can

Posted on September 29, 2017 by Bob Bjerkaas

Have you ever felt that your prayer requests were too trivial?  That somehow God would be offended if you brought unimportant matters to his attention?

Over the course of my ministry, I have met with a number of folks who believe that God is not interested in the smaller details of their lives.  God is only interested in the big, capital letter business of your life.  I have even ministered to Christians who are ashamed or embarrassed because they care about things that they believe should not matter to them.  Or would not matter to them if they were more mature.

I felt that way myself back in August of 1991.

I graduated from the University of Maryland (Go Terps), in December of 1990 – I took an extra semester because I changed majors twice as an undergrad.  I immediately applied to and was accepted by the Reformed Theological Seminary in Orlando, Florida.  That meant that I had nine months to earn as much money as I could to go towards the cost of grad school.  Every morning I would wake up at 4:45 and get to Duke’s Deli by 5:30 a.m.  The deli closed at 4:00 p.m., so I would be home by 4:30.  Then I would either teach saxophone lessons to aspiring jazz musicians or rent myself out as a handyman.  In this last endeavor, I did quite a bit of painting.

My parents’ house had aluminum siding, but the woodwork from the soffets to the window trim needed to be scraped and repainted.  That was a good job for me.  Until I smashed the two smallest toes on my right foot, anyway.

I was working with a thirty-foot extension ladder to get up under the eaves on the second story in front of the family room when, having extended the ladder to its full height, the ladder came sliding back down its full length and landed on my right foot – with which I was maneuvering the ladder into position. To this day I have no idea why the ladder’s safety latch didn’t catch on any of the rungs to stop its collapse.  In my sleep deprived state, I watched the ladder come clattering down, and then I felt pain.  And lots of it!

My older brother rushed me to the Urgent Care in town.  Doug and I had removed my shoe and my foot was in a plastic grocery bag that had collected quite a bit of blood by the time we arrived.  My two smaller toes on my right foot looked like smashed red crayons. The doc picked out bits of toenail for about fifteen minutes, wrapped me up, and put me on crutches for three months.  He taught me how to care for the toes and told me that the toenails would not regrow – I should not be alarmed by their absence as I healed.

So come September, I hobbled off to seminary, where one of my classmates was a medical doctor who was leaving medicine for ministry.  He examined the wound a couple of times a week to make sure it wasn’t getting infected.  And when I shared with him how disappointed I was that the toenails were gone for good, he suggested we pray about it.  My first thought was that surely this is a silly thing to be praying about.  Well, my doctor friend convinced me that God meant it when he said, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything… present your requests to God.”  (Philippians 4:6).

I am reminded of this every morning when I pull a sock on my right foot and can count five toenails – each precisely where it should be.

In my current recovery, I have taken to praying for every step of improvement – however small or seemingly insignificant it may be.  By the end of my first full day in the hospital, I realized that I couldn’t spit.  The nurses kept an accordion-like, collapsible vomit bag right near my face during that first day.  I was evidently reacting strongly to coming out of anesthesia and being introduced to new meds.  And when they asked me to spit in the bag, I could only drool into it.

During the night I was trying to get Kerrie’s attention but I couldn’t speak above the hoarse, quiet whisper the surgery had left me with.  I could not wake Kerrie up.  I couldn’t clap because of the lines going into my right wrist and my left hand.  Knocking on the bed rail was too quiet.  My next idea was whistling.  Please note that under ordinary circumstances, I do not recommend whistling as a method for summoning your best-beloved.  But these were extraordinary times.  So I puckered up and… blew air.  I couldn’t spit.  And I couldn’t whistle.  Two weeks later, sitting up at our dining table at home, I realized that I couldn’t drink out of a soda can either.  The left side of my mouth just couldn’t make a satisfactory seal against the rim of the can.

Harking back to my toenails, I have been praying about things like these trivial matters.  “Lord, help me to spit, whistle, and drink from a can…  and give me patience with all of these things I can no longer do.”

Fast forward five weeks: I can spit.  I can whistle.  I don’t need to drink my soda through a straw.

There is a scripture in Psalm 18 in which David reminds us of God’s role in our accomplishments:

“With your help I can advance against a troop; with my God I can scale a wall.”

These are relatively mundane military tasks, given that they have been performed countless times by countless people over the course of human history.  But David, our father in the faith, acknowledged that even these things are occasions in which we see the gracious assistance of God himself as we face the conflicts and obstacles that confront us.

What are the smaller troubles in your life? Do you believe that God wants you to bring even these to him?  I will continue to pray about things like spitting and whistling.  Especially whistling.  I used to be able to whistle Beethoven’s Pastoral Symphony from beginning to end – today I am nowhere close to that kind of range and pitch control.  But I can get Kerrie’s attention!

May God grant to all of you the desires of your hearts as you delight yourself in Him.  (Psalm 37:4).

 

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