So we could see the power of God!

When he was born, doctors did not believe he would live long. Just thirty years before, his lifespan would have been estimated at nine years. As late as the 1980s, it would have been thought to be 25 years. Of course, standard treatment at the time was institutionalization. But his parents refused such a supposed solution, choosing instead to raise their son in the community of a large family. And rather than nine or 25, our family was blessed by Kenny Hatch for 57 years.

Kenny was born with Down's Syndrome, though at the time of his birth the cause of Down's was yet undiscovered. It would be about four years before scientists would find an extra chromosome that seemed to trigger the syndrome. Ironically, medicine has been unable to answer why it happens.

When he was young, Uncle James and Aunt Nell enrolled Kenny in school. It would not take them long, however, to discover that public education was not prepared to deal with a child like Kenny, and they were forced to bring him home. It is a shame that we do things like that, especially when we fear what we do not understand.

But I would not know him until several years later. You see, he was 21 years old when I was born. I guess that means I have known him for my whole life. As a child, I knew Kenny was different, though I did not really know why. I knew that he talked a little funny, and eventually realized that he was built a little differently. But I did not grow up seeing Kenny as someone with a disability or a handicap. I just knew him as my cousin. (Technically he was my "second" cousin, but in the south that "second" business doesn't mean anything)

My first memories of Kenny are as a working man. He was fortunate to be involved in a vocational center for adults with disabilities. It gave him purpose, it gave him a little money, and it became a social outlet for him. Social outlet is just code for "it was a place where he met girls that would become his girlfriend." In that environment, Kenny was not different. He was normal. Accepted.

He played the harmonica, maybe as good as Charlie McCoy. Well, that might be stretching it a little. Maybe it was just that he enjoyed it so much that, even if it was a little less-than-perfect, it sounded sweet.

And he smiled. Boy, did he ever! That's not to say that he was never in a bad mood, and the last few years brought their share of uncomfortable days. He could be stubborn as a mule. But he smiled a smile that would literally melt away the selfishness from your heart.

It could not have been easy for Uncle James and Aunt Nell, raising Kenny in the society of their day. Common thought was to just put him away somewhere and forget him. As bad as that may sound, common thought today is to find out about the Down's early in the pregnancy and just kill the baby before it is born. Some advance, huh? It is dressed up with the name "Selective Therapeutic Abortion," but statistics suggest that some 80 percent of women terminate their pregnancy when a diagnosis of Down's is discovered. Wow. I shudder to think of that. And it saddens me to think of what we would have missed without Kenny.

I feel compelled to tell you that Aunt Nell was a faithful caregiver to Kenny. What to some would seem a burden was just life for her. Well meaning people will say dumb things to her in days to come about this being a load off of her. Maybe those people's tongues will cleave to the roof of their mouths.

I don't know if she or Uncle James ever asked why this had happened to them, or to their son. I never asked her that. But it seems almost inevitable. That reminds me of a young man who was born blind. Jesus' followers wanted to know why. In that case, they  assumed that such an impairment was punishment for sin. They just couldn't figure out who had sinned. But Jesus had a different take on it. He told them, "This happened so the power of God could be seen in him" (John 9.3). I think that's the truth about Kenny, too. Our eyes look at Kenny and wonder if there was some great mistake somewhere. How can God's power be on display in someone born with physical problems and health issues that accompany Down's.  And then we are reminded that God's strength is made perfect in human weakness (2 Corinthians 12.9). And I can tell you where I saw that power in the life of Kenny Hatch.

He loved you, no matter who you were. He loved without reservation, and would hug you, kiss you, wink at you, or smile at you. And you could not be in his presence without feeling that. Such affectionate love is rare in our world. Many people we know only love you for what they can get in return. Kenny didn't ask for anything. That is the power of God who, himself, is love.

Tonight, Kenny was overcome by complications of pneumonia and died. Kenny, whose faith we all knew, was ready. I have to think that somehow, on some level, he was more connected to God than we understood. And part of me thinks that in heaven Kenny will be free from the syndrome that defined his earthly existence. But there's part of that line of thought that troubles me. Not the part about going to heaven, but the part that somehow he has to be different in the eternal presence of God. We think of God as a healer. But I have to stop and ask if Kenny was really the one who was broken. Maybe, with his child-like view of the world, he was a lot closer to what I am supposed to be. After all, I don't believe in chance. I believe in a God who is always in control. I believe in a God who has a purpose for everyone who is created. I believe that Kenny was created in God's image. So maybe, just maybe, what I thought was a disability was really just God's power being perfected in Kenny's weakness. Does he really have to be "healed" to be in heaven? Paul's thorn in the flesh was about trusting God. And in looking at Kenny, maybe he was perfect for reminding us of the same lesson. God's way of saying, "Even if you don't understand this, I am still God. I've got this."

Perhaps the lesson from Kenny's life is that normal is overrated. Maybe it's that perfect doesn't exist, so I can choose to praise God for the life I have or be miserable over what I don't have. Maybe it was my need to be happy with less, to be content. Or maybe, all of the above.

Whatever the case, I am grateful to God that my life was intersected by Kenny's. I am thankful that he helped me see others with Down's as someone to be celebrated, not pitied. I am thankful that my family treated Kenny like just another one of the cousins.  I am thankful that James and Nell didn't give up. And I am thankful to have been loved by so beautiful a soul.

Rest well, cousin Kenny.

Loose teeth...and repentance?

My son, Samuel, had a loose tooth. It wasn't his first, though I don't remember how many teeth he has lost in eight years of living. But here's the thing: Samuel has never really pulled a tooth. He is one of those kids who will leave that tooth in his mouth until it falls out on its own.

That may not sound like a problem, yet it creates a problem. You see, teeth that are almost out have very sharp edges. They hurt when they poke around on the surrounding gums, thus eating or drinking can become quite a painful experience.

Case in point, our family went out to eat Sunday at Olive Garden (courtesy of some sweet ladies from WP). Sam's tooth was hanging by a thread, but he would not pull it out. Consequence? He did not get to eat. What was frustrating about this was that Dana and I both offered to pull the tooth, and did our best to convince Sam that there would be little or no pain involved. He believed otherwise. So while we enjoyed our endless stream of soup, salad and breadsticks, he sat mopingly (is that even a word?) with a cooling bowl of Zuppa Toscana in front of him. No amount of encouragement or threatening could get that tooth out. He knew that he couldn't eat. He knew that it was hurting. Yet, he insisted on keeping his mouth closed and preserving the position of that lateral incisor.

I will admit to being more than a little frustrated with Sam. Granted, we were using a gift card to pay for dinner, but we paid for him to eat. Because of his refusal to pull the tooth, we just threw that money away. But more than that, it was frustrating to see him hurting himself when there was a simple solution to the problem. He didn't have to hurt, and he knew it, but just wouldn't do what was necessary to stop the pain. I think it was frustrating, too, because it wasn't his first tooth to lose. He has been through this EXACT scenario several times already. He KNOWS it hurts more to leave the tooth in place than to get it out.

Then my frustration turned to embarrassed humility.

It dawned on me that God must get just as frustrated with me when I stubbornly refuse to let him remove things from my life that are hurting me. You could take your pick of damaging habits, attitudes or actions and I have probably struggled with them. All of them are things that God could deal with, things that his power could defeat. But I decide that going through that personal detox will be more painful than the torment caused by my sin, so I hang on to it just a little bit longer. Only with my sin, it is much more dangerous than causing me to miss one of my favorite meals. Unlike a loose tooth, the problem areas in my life will not just fall out on their own. The will linger forever unless they are intentionally removed. Further, they carry a much higher price tag...they are fatal (Romans 6.23). And I KNOW that, yet I let those things hang around, hurting me (and those around me). I think, over time, I get calloused enough that I don't really feel the pain any more. Pretty frightening, huh?

That's what I think David experienced in the Bathsheba incident. No doubt, he knew that sleeping with the wife of one of his soldiers was not good. I am certain that he knew that covering their affair with murder was wrong. In fact, he would go on to write in Psalm 51 that it was eating away at him, destroying him. Only after Nathan's confrontation did David turn in repentance, essentially pulling the loose tooth.  His prayer was for God to tear out his old heart and give him a new one. I think he knew that the spiritual procedure of such an operation would be just as drastic, as life-altering as if it were a physical surgery. And he can do the same for you.

Interestingly enough, Samuel announced from the backseat of the car driving home from Olive Garden that the tooth was out. And as soon as we got home, he fixed himself something to eat. Funny how that relief works. The pain is gone, and joy (that's what I saw in his eyes over that bologna sandwich) takes its place.

Father, thank you for dealing with my sin, for removing things from my life that need to go. Please forgive me for my stubborn refusal to let go of sin. Soften my heart so that it feels the pain again. If necessary, just tear out my old heart and create a new one in me. Help me let go of myself while holding on to you. In Jesus' name, Amen

Unplugged...sort of

The first time it happened, it was because we had moved from one house to another. If you have ever moved, you know that it is not always a well-oiled machine. Things get lost, or misplaced, or forgotten. Besides all the stuff that has to be boxed-up and relocated, there are also lots of necessary chores, like having electrical service turned on and off.

In the midst of the chaos of one of our moves, we (meaning "I") forgot to have the cable service switched. So we were without television programming for a time. The first few days were rough, but we soon discovered just how much time we had been spending parked in front of the box. And as more days went by, we got to the point that we rather enjoyed the quiet time it afforded our family.

Then we moved to California. And like all good movers, we took advantage of the stupendous savings (what a joke!) offered in a cable provider's bundle. Right back into the TV culture we went, and it immediately changed things around our house. We eventually found ourselves planning our schedule around what we wanted to watch. The kids soon believed that they HAD to watch their shows in the morning as we were trying to get ready. And little time was spent in actual conversation.

After a few months, we deliberately made the decision to turn off the cable. No more network news, no more ESPN, no more Disney channel. And a remarkable thing happened. We started playing more games with our kids. We actually learned to have some quiet time in the evenings. And we have not looked back. Now, I need to be clear about something. We do have a subscription to Netflix that allows movies and old tv shows to be streamed through our Wii console. If we want to watch a movie, we can. If we really want to re-watch an episode of favorite shows gone by, we do. But we have complete control over the programming. We only watch (or let our kids watch) those things that we screen first. No commercials compelling our kids to want whatever junk is being advertised. No keeping up with all the Hollywood gossip. No trash that can poison their minds. And we couldn't be happier about that.
I was a little worried when football season rolled around. No games at all? No SEC? Nothing from the NFL? Over the course of this season, however, I realized just how un-important that really was.

Probably the most startling reality for me is the influence that the voices on TV had on my mind. I had the same experience with the radio. On September 12, 2001 I turned on talk radio for the first time. At the time I was just looking for news coverage of the previous day's horrible events. But I liked what I heard. Somewhere around 8 years later, I turned off the talk. I found that things of a political nature had taken an unhlealthy hold on my mind. They consumed me. And, frankly, they fed an arrogance that was horrible. Though God long-ago said that my citizenship is in heaven, I was obsessed with the affairs of my earthly country. Then I turned it off.

I was amazed how all those pressing issues became un-important over the days and weeks that followed. In fact, I was soon disgusted with the whole political mess. Still am today. But I don't get so caught up in it anymore.

As a side note, our family's listening habits changed, too. In the car, country music was the norm. But with this shift in my listening, we decided that a family shift would be good. So we began to listen to nothing but Christian music. Changed the car radio, alarm clocks, etc. Again, it was amazing to watch the transformation that took place. Instead of boozing, cheating, lying songs, I started hearing my kids randomly singing about God, grace, love, Christ and the gospel. Our conversations started to flow from those songs. And the whole tone of our daily life began to change. Now, our kids wake up in the morning to songs about the God who loves them, about the Savior who died for them. That is what we are "feeding" their minds now. And I can't tell you the difference it has made.

My point? That all TV programming is bad? You can only go to heaven if you listen to Christian music? No. But I pray that you, too, will give serious thought to what you are allowing into the eyes, ears and minds of your children. I pray that the things they see and hear, watch and are entertained by are things that honor God and help them learn to glorify him. If you are struggling with that, try unplugging like we did. Try changing the station. Remember Jesus' words in Matthew 6.33: "Seek first God's kingdom and his righteousness." Do that with your entertainment, and you will be amazed at the difference it makes.