Wednesday Witness: Wanting, Needing, Having

Between Thanksgiving and this coming Monday, when our new refrigerator arrives, my bride and I will have replaced all four major kitchen appliances. These expenditures were practical: Our dishwasher hadn’t worked in a year or more; the electronic oven controls on our gas range worked only if you held your mouth right while pressing the buttons; our microwave struggled to pop popcorn, and the range lights quit working; and our refrigerator/freezer gets hot to the touch.

At the same time, new appliances were not entirely necessary. We had, after all, survived a year without a dishwasher; the oven still worked with a little coaxing; the microwave was still quicker than most other options for a wide range of tasks; and thus far, the fridge is still cold inside, if not outside. And plenty of people live quite comfortably without one or more of these devices.

Over the past couple weeks, as we prepare to tackle some home projects and work on my old truck, I convinced my bride to allow me to upgrade our garage. My work has gone well the past year—I’ve picked up a few extra projects and used the money from one such project to purchase some new hand and power tools and organize them. Now, when I have time to work on projects, I spend far less time looking for tools, purchasing cheap tools for particular tasks, setting up, and cleaning up. I can just get to work.

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Wednesday Witness: Corporal Works of Mercy – Bury the Dead

These Wednesday Witness columns essentially track what the Lord is doing in my heart and life regarding the seven Corporal Works of Mercy:

  • to feed the hungry
  • to give drink to the thirsty
  • to clothe the naked
  • to shelter the homeless
  • to comfort the sick
  • to ransom the captive (to visit prisoners)
  • to bury the dead

If you look closely, one of these works is not like the others: While the first six Corporal Works concern the needs and comfort of living persons, the seventh focuses on our bodily remains. As a result, it has often seemed like the work I’m least likely to carry out in any practical sense, since I am not a minister, mortician, or cemetery attendant.

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A Year Apart: Reflecting on My Father’s Passing

One year ago today, my father passed away.

I flew to Michigan early that morning with the experienced observation of a close family friend ringing in my head: It won’t be long. The flight was flawless and landed early. When the rental car clerk learned why I was in Michigan, he expedited everything, and I was on the road in minutes. Traffic moved. The pavement was dry. I drove the limit and made myself relax, reflecting that this was unfolding in God’s time, and I would arrive when I should.

I arrived just in time. My sister came out to greet me in the driveway and said she thought Dad may have just stopped breathing. I went in and held his hand, which was warmer to my touch than it had been in years. I spoke to him softly, telling him it was okay, telling him to go to the Lord and not to be afraid, telling him we were okay and would take care of each other. 

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Wednesday Witness: ‘You Can’t Save the World’

This column is part of a new, weekly series on what the Lord is doing in my heart, specifically encouraging me to simplify my own life in order practice the virtue of charity and the Corporal and Spiritual Works of Mercy. Come back each Wednesday to read the latest!

I’ve always been a big-hearted and emotional fellow. As a grade-schooler, I tried to intervene when those who were littler than me (not many) were being bullied. Invariably, I took a thumping myself. But I couldn’t help it: I hurt to see others hurt.

Whenever I got wound up about some injustice or suffering, real or imaginary, Dad would say, “You can’t save the world.”

What he taught me, instead, was how to stand up for myself, to treat others with respect, and to look out for my own—my family and close friends, those whom I could count on to help take care of me.

Dad was right: I can’t save the world. I can’t even save myself. Jesus is the sole Savior of the world, and—thanks be to God—it is accomplished (John 19:30).

But I don’t think our eternal salvation is what Dad meant.

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Handled or Healed?

This spring I shared about a homily we heard from Father Columba Jordan, CFR, while visiting Gabe and his fellow postulants in Harlem. Father Columba asked if we were handing our problems over to the Lord or squeezing Him like a stress ball while we tried to handle them ourselves. Surrender is more than admitting we need help or even asking for help—it means relinquishing control and receiving His help, in whatever form it comes.

Fast-forward to this month: After years of talking about it, Jodi and I decided to work on our marriage together by participating in the Healing the Whole Person study at the church this summer. By most measures, our marriage is healthy and strong, but anyone who has spent decades living with the same person can point to areas in need of healing: issues that consistently cause anxiety or anger, conversations that invariably go sideways, little things that drive us crazy in disproportionately big ways. And we don’t want to settle for that.

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