I've realized a major change God has been working in my heart over the last couple years: Through my family's situation of need my eyes have been opened--literally for the first time--to Scripture passages about God's instructions to us about helping those in need. I've realized, and confirmed with a few theologians in personal conversations, that Scripture does lay out a clear path for us:

1) Give tangible help to those in our immediate and extended family who are vulnerable and needy

2) Give tangible help to members of our local congregation who are vulnerable and needy

3) Give tangible help to our family of believers who are spread around the world who are vulnerable and needy

4) Give tangible help to our unbelieving neighbours (locally and globally) who are also vulnerable and needy

The change that happened in me is a total reversal of my values. I used to be a lot more self-absorbed, into entertainment, spending a lot of time in my imagination, and tons of time doing goofy things with friends. Although these things are not intrinsically bad, I know that one day, after I'm no longer needed by my parents, I'm going to spend my free time helping others a great deal more than I will on the pursuit of happiness, diversions, entertainment, and so on. I know this because of how I feel these days when other people give up their leisure time to help my parents. They are an answer to our prayers, and one day I want to be the answer to many other peoples' prayers too.

This is just a little note to let you know you're often thought of with gratitude. Many are they who will give grand counsel and goodly advice without forsaking the pedestal of self-esteem. But there are so few, like you, who touch the hearts of anybodies and make them somebodies, who say, "I can feel your pain, may I share it?", who knit their lives to others for that brief time when care is needed most, who when his life path crosses another's, says, "let me help you for the span of time we walk together," forgiving and forgetting with a love that surpasses all but the divine.

For your encouragement and fellowship I will always be deeply grateful.

So ends a letter to my Dad from a gentleman many decades ago. The person he describes is the Dad I've known growing up - always fully and completely giving himself to others in their greatest moments of weakness and grief. Why is it that, after living a life like his and now in his greatest time of need, the majority of Christian acquaintances back out of Dad's life in fear, while those who embrace him with love are the exception? And is it any wonder that those of us who know and love Dad experience indignation when Christian leaders of my parents' church justify their own and their members' distance in their greatest time of need and loneliness?

Dad still has his ups and downs, but with taking less Dilantin per day (that's his seizure medication), his mind is not as foggy as it was before. He has been incredibly articulate at times, and all the normal dreams and hopes that we humans experience are being expressed by Dad clearer and more often these days. He desires to get better, to pick up his former profession of pastoring, to drive a car, to have friends who treat him like a normal human being who is worthy of respect and worth the time to visit. He wants to have adventures, to use his gifts for singing and counselling, to try new things like learning to use a digital camera and an accoustic guitar, to devote time to his interest in music, model trains, history, Scripture, and so on. What he needs are just a few more friends to help him reach up out of the fog and realize some of his ambitions. The possibilities, believe it or not, are numerous and attainable...

There is always more going on here, but I'll have to post about it another day. Thanks for checking in, and remember, your comments (and phone calls!) are always welcome.