MikePaschall.com

I’ve about decided that tribalism (of any kind) is a closed system. It’s not as open and free as it markets itself. It’s just another container that has rules of engagement, boundaries, high fences, and concrete explanations, which are designed for declaring and defining present reality. We so desperately want to be free, but within the confines of tribalism (especially religious tribalism), we’re anything but free. Ultimately, that’s very disturbing because it was for FREEDOM, that Christ has (past) set us (that’s supposed to be all of us) FREE (Galatians 5:1).

As much as I believe Paul meant what he was saying, he didn’t always act, sound, or look very free. Many times, Paul looks exactly like the old tribe he was trying to get out of. Factious, warring, exclusive, and dogmatically certain pretty much summarizes the old lineage. I’d add faithful, but I’m not sure it was always warranted. I do think Paul was trying to get out of the container he had always been a part of, but you know how it is when you’re one of many crabs in a steep bucket. Something or someone is always pulling you back into the norm. Freedom is a process… not an event.

How we were is always trying to get a foothold on how we are.

You have to get your mind right to align yourself in all the freedom that was purchased for us.

So, are you?  Are you free?

Free to think?

(To actually think outside the box of right and wrong—good and evil?  Have you ever tasted anything different from what you’ve always been served?  Is everyone wrong who thinks differently from you?)

Free to expand?

(To read and listen to thinkers who have more questions than answers?)

Free to doubt?

(Without having to rush back to home base in order to be accepted or approved? To consider mystery, and that God might not be as predictable or explainable as we seem so assured?)

Free to ask questions?

(Without fear of being exiled or defiled from grace, fellowship, or heaven?)

Free to not conform?

(Real transformation doesn’t happen by marching in cadence with everyone else. That’s conformance. Deep transformation happens in the obscure lonely walk through valleys and shadows. Jesus is our prime example of that kind of courage.)

Honestly, are we really free?  Or do we have to maintain our certainties in order to maintain our faith?

I have to answer the question also. I’ve lost interest in being just another crab in the bucket.

Love you people!

-MDP-

For the past couple of months, I’ve handled more boxes and crates than I really want to ever remember. Moving definitely puts you in touch with your baggage… inside and out. Some of these crates we’ve been hauling around for the past 20 years. Unpacking them is just too much. So we’ve hauled them again… and again… and again. It’s fairly harmless when it comes to our tangible stuff, but not so good when it applies to our internals.

We have definitely unpacked more stuff than not, but the energy required to uncover all of our loot requires patience and fearless fortitude. I say patience because our culture seems to be geared with the default posture that if we can’t see immediate visible results then we’re not making progress, or we have failed altogether. That attitude is an enemy to faith. Faith isn’t that practical. Faith involves plunging ourselves into deep mystery. It’s in the deep that transformation happens, and that isn’t always immediately discernable by yourself or others. We all know how to act. We’ve all got a little bit of Hollywood in us.

The fortitude part is the fearlessness and endurance to actually get at “it”—stay at “it”. Breathers and rest are good, but sooner or later, you’ve got to dive back in and address what looms in the dark pile. Real rest remedies fatigue, but sometimes you can’t rest until you’ve confronted what loiters in the shadows. Stay at “it” long enough and you’ll run out of projects. That is some of what freedom feels like.

I’m in the gym about 6 days a week, but there is something about moving that touches muscles that you didn’t realize you had. Everything currently hurts, but that is only temporary. The deed is done. The journey is here.

Advil please.

Love you all!

-MDP-

Gitty up Trigger!  It’s time.

It seems that every two or three years I post something about our moving again. The reason that I do that is because every two or three years we move again. Blink-blink.

I think we can honestly say that it’s never premeditated. It mostly happens because we’re responding to some opportunity or some impression of what appears to be a season change. Moving to Waco in November 2013 was bittersweet. We left a community of people who had previously rocked our world. It was hardcore and spiritually intense. We had forged deep relationships with honorable and loving people. Not everything there was up to that standard, but leaving Georgia wasn’t easy. Yet, there was a sense that family needed to be the focus for the next season—and that was especially true for Patti. So we moved.

The last two and a half years in Waco have been anything but boring. We came not knowing much more than Patti needed to seize time with her mom (the Martha we had always known) while there was still opportunity to do so. Within weeks of being here, it was obvious that the decline was definitely happening every day. What was to be a casual check-in a couple of times a week, became and 24-7 care concern almost immediately.

Early on, our evenings consisted of wine, cheese, crackers, and a lot of teary debriefs. Az (Alzheimer’s, dementia, you name it) was kicking our family’s butt. We had no idea what we had signed up for. Dementia was making more trouble than we had foreseen. So, we started reading and studying. A brutal topic, but it had to be done.

I still marvel that I got to witness firsthand how a daughter responded to her mother’s need. Lots of people pull on Patti’s life and I can honestly say that she gives and loves as well as anyone I’ve ever known, but in this situation with her mom, it’s been something more than just taking care of mom. Patti dived in deeper with the woman who had always been there for her. She wanted to connect and give security when Martha’s reality window of the familiar was closing. My words will never accomplish the true justice of what this season was like. “Horribly glorious” is about the best I can convey with words. It has truly been a privilege to witness. I’m convinced that my girl is a bad ass.

(I certainly realize that Patti is not the only person that has signed up for such duty.  If you’ll look around, there are people giving themselves away for the sake of a parent or a child or a mate everywhere. The fact that humanity is still willing to do that is a good thing. I genuinely think it’s part of His image shining through us. The ancient rites of family.)

It was hard as hell, but it was also tender, sweet, and precious—still is. Now that Martha is in a memory care facility, the efforts to connect are still important. Patti goes everyday to visit with her mom. Yes, her mother appears to be content and safe in that environment, yet Patti has become another source of light to more than just her mother. Workers, aides, residents and staff all pull from the radiance that she carries. Loving on Martha is the primary motivation, but you know Patti can’t help herself as so many others are in such close proximity. Everyone gets a touch. It’s an amazing gift to behold.

So, one week from today, we will put our stuff in a Penske truck and drive the 850 miles to Colorado Springs, Colorado. For the third time, that is where we will lay our heads.

Much like the other 27 moves, there is no way to really know what is ahead. Departing here to live there does pull on our hearts in many ways. Leaving our moms again is hurtful. Martha is unaware, but a part of Patti’s life and ministry stays here. Not seeing her mom everyday is going to leave a huge vacuum. Regularly touching her mom has brought a lot of joy and happiness to my girl. Seeing her mom’s smile when she walks in everyday is righteous love. That is going to be a massive void for them both.

My mom is healthy, alert, and doing her own thing. I suspect we’ll still spend lots of time together. She loves Colorado, and of course her people who reside there. I’ll miss the ability to pop in on my brother and sister on a whim. We’ll miss a lot of our spiritual kids who are still hurting from grief and loss. Being near Jimmy and Lorna is about the only thing we can actually do for them. Yes, it’s still really hard. Thank you for your continued prayers.

Longtime garden friends, who know our story and get how we roll, understand this move. Their supportive affirmation is helpful. We agree with the Beatles: We get by with a little help from our friends! Thank you so much!

I suspect that the bulk of our friends here in Central Texas won’t even know we’re gone. We’ll be in and out of here on a fairly regular basis. With the moms and family here, we’ll be around.

Besides, I’ll have to in the winter. The white stuff freaks me out. (Help me Jesus!)

Come see us!

Love you all,

Mike  xo

OUR NEW MAILING ADDRESS!

7824 Flicker Grove  .   Colorado Springs, CO 80920

Check it out: I recently saw this video on FB and now I know why it went viral. It’s really sweet.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VSIjvF7-UIE

There is something about being picked that really does us some good. Feeling left out and overlooked totally sucks, but getting the nod of approval is one of the more uplifting things that will ever happen to us.

I tried to put myself in this guy’s shoes. Evidently, he had served this kid and her mother very well. Apparently the bond is genuine and the payoff is extremely sweet.

I loved his line which revealed his heart: “Yeah, I’ve been wanting to do that forever.”

Dad got picked, validated, and affirmed. Let’s eat some cake!

There is a great passage of scripture in the Bible that points out a stated reality:

“Thus we have been set free to experience our rightful heritage. You can tell for sure that you are now fully adopted as his own children because God sent the Spirit of his Son into our lives crying out, “Papa! Father!” Doesn’t that privilege of intimate conversation with God make it plain that you are not a slave, but a child? And if you are a child, you’re also an heir, with complete access to the inheritance” (Galatians 4:5-7, The Message).

There are some pretty exciting things in that passage:

1. We have been set free
2. We are fully adopted as His own
3. We are heirs
4. We have complete access to that inheritance!

That news is so good we can hardly believe it, and that might be our problem.

Like the young woman in the video, we need to pick, validate, and affirm what God has already done for us. It has always been in His heart, but He patiently waits for us to decide to live fully in the acceptance and freedom that He has so graciously afforded us.

He picked us before we knew it. Maybe it’s time for us to stop earning, and transition to receiving and living in the full rights of our inheritance. Like the young lady: “Yes Lord, I’ll take that deal! I choose to live in Your unconditional love and acceptance!”

He picked so we could pick. What a deal!

Love you all,

Mike xo

If you missed reading Simple and Simple #2 this video is pretty much your summary.  I apologize if you’re not Matrix savvy.

Once we’ve stared down our addiction to being noticed or needed, and then face our thirst for being right, certain, and important, the final temptation must be wrestled down: CONTROL.

Jesus was propositioned the third time by darkness with the ultimate sugar stick: “It’s all yours, dude. Just play the game, bow the knee, and you can have it all!” (Matthew 4:8)

That is a serious offer, and regardless of the source (which most of us have no issue overlooking) it’s too much power and control for us to ignore. It’s a legit temptation.   Verse nine clearly reveals the costs, but too many are usually willing to gamble.

That’s a very heavy judgment on “all the kingdoms of this world.” In all these systems, self-interest has to dominate. For Kingdom people, self-interest cannot dominate.” – Richard Rohr, O. F. M.

Make no mistake, the third temptation is all about power and control. And as Rohr indicates, it is the culmination of all three temptations into one package: “The great lie, a mythological riddle that can’t be solved—The sin of the world.” (John 1:29)

About the only way to combat the gravitational pull into this numbing cycle of default normalcy is to sell out to gospel living. And that, my friends, isn’t very easy. His yoke is easy and light, but it’s also pretty much counter-flow to every world system in place. I’m not talking about fist-pumping rebellion here, but a different rhythm and a different path—a peculiar stride that doesn’t find its value by blending in with more of the same or how it’s always been done. The amount of counter energy Jesus exuded towards the kingdoms of this world was astonishing! Homie didn’t play.

I know serious-minded ministry people who believe they’re exempt from such things, but actually, “we’re” not. In fact, there is more temptation, not less. It’s not easy to resist the rewards of any system. That’s why the game gets played over and over again. What we’ll do for a little honor, glory, recognition, or control. Sigh.

Darkness finally split the scene when Jesus spoke words that ended the conversation. True to form, He offered the ultimate antidote to nullify the poison from the liar’s tongue. Again, we are reminded that we are to govern our lives by values that come from a different space and reality. And about the only way we can get to the true essence of that rhythm is to center ourselves in God’s full acceptance of who we really are. We can stop with the self hype. We can truly be grace. That doesn’t require marketing. It requires trust.

It simply takes faith to believe that. You’ll know when you’ve met someone who believes. You’ll feel the grace and sense the Sabbath rest. It really is that simple.

Love you all,

Mike   xo

There were three temptations. Three times “the dark” attempted to over-extend the light—trying anything to get Him out of his rhythm. It didn’t work. Jesus knew who he was and what his Father thought of him. You normally can’t manipulate or jack with people who are grounded in that kind of shalom.

Last week we looked at the first temptation or addiction: our need to be noticed or needed. Honestly, it’s a brutal conversation. I don’t know if you’ve figured it out or not, but your number of Facebook or Twitter followers doesn’t have a damn thing to do with who you are or your value as a human being. And if you don’t know that, you’ll spend the rest of your life trying to get noticed, get recognized, or get some proverbial wink of approval. What a horrible, horrible, horrible waste of your life juice.

God I feel better for saying that!

Let’s move on. I’m tired of thinking about it.

The second encounter that Jesus faced was the whole, “Since you’re God’s son, jump!” (Matthew 4:6) This is our addiction to being right, to be in, to be a part of the moral elite, to be saved and superior—all for our own benefit. This would be a thing called self-righteousness. This is the spirit that will step on humanity for the sake of a religious notion. If you want to talk anti-Christ… look no further. It was juicy bait—but Jesus didn’t bite.

More evil has come into the world by people of religious ignorance than by people who have intentionally sinned.” –Richard Rohr, O. F. M.

The problem is our NEED to be right—our insecurity without our certainties—our ridiculous pride about our certainties. It’s nice to be right every now and then, but that driving need to be superior, righteous, and elite is just downright uuuggglly.

Rohr points out that when the young rich man asked for the specifics of how to gain eternal life, Jesus didn’t give him any real answers, because it was the wrong question (Mark 10:17). Jesus didn’t play by the rules. He didn’t play the game that everyone else was playing. There is a real possibility that much like “darkness” the young man didn’t really want answers. He only wanted affirmation of what he was already certain of. Selling his stuff wasn’t going to buy the boy a ticket to heaven. We don’t believe that do we? If you do, why do you still have your stuff? Why? Ain’t you going to heaven? Jesus help us to have eyes that see.

Jesus offered the same kind of solution to the person struggling with lust: “Fine, cut out your eye, but you’ll soon figure out that your problem is not your eye. It’s your heart.” (Matthew 5:29)

Our need to be right, to be on top, to be certain, to be THE authority, the big-dog, the alpha are real temptations. Simply, it is an addiction of great concern. Don’t just like this.  You should hate this… it’s in us.

Wow… three pieces of scripture. Guess that constitutes as preaching. Sorry.

Love you all!

Mike  xo

In the early Spring of 2005, I was 48 years old, and I had just come out of the most humiliating season I had ever encountered. More was to follow, but when I peered back over my shoulder, I wasn’t all that happy about what was behind me. There were bright spots (my wife had my back, my kids turned out better than they were raised, people that Patti and I were discipling were growing by leaps and bounds, and we had lots of friends, etc.) but, all in all, I didn’t want to continue on the same path that I had traveled in my previous ministry. I didn’t know what I wanted it to look like—only that it had to be something different.

That was about the time my buddy David Johnson in Minnesota introduced me to Richard Rohr. I had been very interested in the Men’s Movement back in the day, but none of that stuff captured me like Rohr’s teachings. I was the perfect age to ingest his material in Adam’s Return.

I’ve heard a lot of people quote Rohr’s ideas about spiritual initiation, but I seldom believe those who pass on the words genuinely grasp the real core of the teaching. It’s easy to lose the purpose if your agenda is only to impress others with the chill bump of those five principles.

There is shock value in Rohr’s paradigm about spiritual initiation, but it requires a lot of integrity to set up the teaching in a way that genuinely exudes and conveys the very essence of the rite of passage. In other words, the Elders can’t exclude themselves from the truths of initiation. In fact, it’s quite the opposite! As I said, the goal isn’t to shock and impress. The goal is to tell the brutal truth up front. If the candidate buys in up front, transforms his passion and direction, the purpose can always be revisited for the rest of his life. The mission becomes who he is as a person. Then, and only then, does he help ignite the next generation because he’s lived the whole cycle of initiation in his lifetime.

If you’re wondering, you can’t just outsource Elders to “do the deed.” Elders have to live and die with the truths of the initiation within themselves—no matter what it costs them. By the way, that isn’t a sexy gig. Glowing in the dark usually won’t allow for such nameless, faceless humility. As I mentioned, it takes a lot of integrity and stellar character to remain focused at keeping things that simple. That probably has more to do with why we don’t have a well-established initiation process in the first world. Our culture won’t stand for it.

Of all places, I stumbled across a reading at Christmas that reminded me that mankind (especially ministry types) faces the same temptations that Jesus faced in the wilderness. That first temptation that Christ faced was a challenge brought by Satan to turn stones into bread (Matthew 4:3). Rohr likens our “bread” to our addiction to being effective, relevant, successful and noticed. It’s difficult to trust someone who takes those things for themselves while they’re doing ministry—yet, the temptation is very real. That’s also the reason why Jesus faced that temptation first. He wanted to help move us from what we want to what we really need. Jesus usually refused to be relevant for His own sake. He always pushed people to go deeper for what they really needed. “Man cannot live by bread alone.” (Matthew 4:4) It really is that simple. I can’t be reminded enough of that teaching.

I’ll try to conclude my thoughts next week.

Love you all,

MDP

I don’t eat just one scoop of ice cream. Frankly, it’s a ridiculous notion. You can’t even get your teeth dirty with one scoop of ice cream. You’ve got to have two to make it remotely legit. One scoop is tasting ice cream. Two or more scoops is eating ice cream.

There should be a two scoop minimum. Period. No exceptions. Can I get an Amen?

Last week’s blog got a lot of attention. It’s been almost five years since one of my blogs had that many eyes on it. I rarely pay attention to the whole metrics thing, but it’s strange to me why a blog about heaven would get that many hits and another blog focused on equally important spiritual topics barely get a glance. I just don’t get it. It probably says something about us.

Read Mike Paschall’s Blog Post: Heaven

Let me be clear about this: This blog was already on my mind before last week’s post materialized. But, it does feel like the right time to allow today’s post to surf on last week’s wake. Thus… another scoop.

Last June, I rode the Indian down to Wimberly, Texas, to connect with an old buddy of mine from days long ago. Mark Roye is the founder of Blood-n-Fire Ministries in San Antonio. He was in Wimberly to help with the relief efforts after a horrible flood. Our spiritual histories are definitely intertwined, but despite all of that, I just like the guy. He’s got a monster heart that’s filled with compassion for the marginalized and burdened. He and his wife Suzie are doing their passion to add value to the “least of these” and the outcast. That says a lot about who they are. As I said, I really love these people.

It had been a while since Mark and I had really caught up and visited. While sitting under the shade of Texas live oaks, he spilled the goods about his stint in the hospital for a heart bypass not too long ago. I knew he had the surgery, but I didn’t realize the juicy contents of a story he told me. I’ve asked Mark to put it on paper. He has obliged.

My name is Mark Roye and I was 56 years old when I had an experience that has radically changed my perspective of life. My father had died at a young age due to heart problems. Because of my family history, my primary care physician began setting me for a series of test. In December of 2014 those test involved me having a heart cath procedure. After that particular test, I found myself facing heart bypass surgery. I ended up having 5 bypasses. I say all of that to share with you an experience I had post surgery.

In my second night of recovery after the surgery I was having a pretty calm night given the circumstances. My daughter Ashley (RN) was spending the night with me. At 2:30 in the morning, my heart began to go into arrhythmia. In other words, I woke up with a heart racing out of control. My daughter looked at the monitor and knew something was wrong. I won’t go into all the details, but things went south very quickly.

As I was in my bed, my heart going crazy. I began to experience the feeling that I was about to die. The thought of dying brought many things to my mind. My first thought was that I was excited to be going. I was so excited to see my family and friends that had already gone before me.

Then I began to experience something that I have never experienced before. I was on my back looking at the ceiling, and I began to see faces of people. It was as if they were pressing their faces through the ceiling. They were all in black and white. As I looked at the faces, I could see that they were faces from all different types of people—people from every tribe and nation—from all over the world! I was reminded of the scripture found in Hebrews 12:1 where it speaks of the great cloud of witnesses.

I am not one to see things like this, and it was an amazing experience. I feel like I experienced just how thin the veil really is between this world and heaven. It totally changed the way I look at life.

In talking to Mark, it was obvious that the encounter had narrowed his purpose, and minimized the fluff. Touching our sliding mortality is supposed to have that effect I think.

Last week I mentioned that there really must be a “great cloud of witnesses.” Not that I have empirical data on the subject matter, but it’s more of a hunch of faith. I know you Bible thumpers are losing your mind right now, but throwing your proof-text at every problem (especially the grieving) might not be helping the broken with their healing process.

When Mark was telling me this story, his eyes filled with tears and he could barely talk.  I too swallowed hard and batted away falling tears. It’s not all that uncommon for me, for I often find myself overwhelmed when I feel the tangible presence of God, and it just overloads the system and I start shutting down. Holding on with all my plastic bravery, my little kit of courage, and a genuine hope for a better today with no guarantees of tomorrow… well, it can all be quite exhausting. It helps to have a little breeze of hope—one more scoop of faith. And frankly, it’s just too crazy here to do life without some semblance of a comforting thought of more in your heart. Peace (The Ghost peace) in our heart goes a long long way. That doesn’t require chapter and verse.

So, yes, I’ll have another scoop. What about you?

Love you all,

-MDP-

xo

Let me go ahead and just step in this little pile… I don’t peddle Heaven anymore. At least not like I used to.

Back in the day, that was my awkward question: “If you die tonight will you be in Heaven tomorrow?” That was the zinger. That was the jolt that got the conversation moving in the direction that I wanted. That was “me” taking charge of “your” eternal destination. That was back when I had the answers to most of your questions. It’s been a long time since I knew it all, and my “back then” is some of the reason why I don’t peddle Heaven in that way anymore.

Do I still believe in Heaven? Why yes I do. Very much so!

But, I don’t use Heaven like the added jaccuzzi package when checking into your favorite honeymoon resort. I don’t use Heaven while trying to convince you of the truth of how much God loves you. Jesus didn’t usually lead with Heaven either. He did mention Heaven (as a destination) while trying to calm his boys (John 14). They pretty much freaked out when he disclosed his intentions to depart this planet. They needed oxygen and a little hope. Heaven was that glimmer of hope.

Did I mention I believe in Heaven? Oh yeah, I believe in Heaven.

I do believe it’s a place. I do believe it’s real. I do believe it’s now. I do believe it is filled with people (people that most of us would never dream of being there).

Yeah, I most definitely believe in Heaven.

[This is where you need to familiarize yourself with the background for what I’m about to share with you. If you’ve not read the ’16 Update on my website, please click the provided link below and read my remarks about the Hering Family. You’ll need the data for all of this to tie together. Feel free to slide past all my preliminary remarks in the update. The Hering story is pertinent to where we go from here.]

CLICK HERE TO READ THE UPDATE

It’s been six weeks since Rhett Hering departed from us. A family of five is now four. Jimmy, Lorna, Ryan and Mara are probably better than they should be. It would be a stretch to say they’re good. If the truth were to be known, they are bobbing in an ocean of pain and grief. Their world has been rattled to the foundations. This earthquake has dislodged and dismantled their lives, but they’re moving forward step-by-step, minute-by-minute, day-by-day. It’s been six weeks—six brutal weeks.

Two days following Rhett’s death, I slipped into Jimmy and Lorna’s bedroom to talk through the events planned for the day. Jimmy had made the funeral arrangements the day before, and we needed to discuss the visitation and the service scheduled the next day. I was sitting by Jimmy on his side of the bed, our conversation was low, but Lorna began to question me with tears of grief, “How am I going to do this? How?” I switched sides of the bed and just held her for a bit. Finally, we locked eyes. She patted my chest and asked very quietly, “Is it real? Mike, is Heaven real? Don’t lie to me… do you believe it?” I have never felt so dug into, so exposed, like I was in that moment. This wasn’t the time for canned preacher talk. Her eyes were searching for the glimmer of hope. Every breath was a war for her. Any waiver, any uncertainty, would surely be exposed. I can still hear her say it clear as a bell, “Do you believe?”

The good and workable notions of Heaven come when your seventy-six year old father has an incurable disease and you know he has suffered enough. Seventy-six is still young, but it’s a long way from 15-years old. Any grieving widow or widower has the right to be pissed if they want to. The same can be said for grieving parents. This kind of pain is unbearable and can’t be cured with topical balms and nugatory religious trinkets.

Heaven can be a soothing notion and it is a strong promise of the Christian faith, but Heaven as the residence of anyone so fit, so active, so good, so innocent, so beautiful, so sweet, so lovable… so YOUNG… it confounds the mind. Loss without closure is an agonizing nightmare. Please never say out-loud, “Heaven must have needed another angel.” I’m warning you, if you say it, you’ll deserve that bloodied nose your likely to wear on your face.

We can understand old and sick and feeble and miserable going to Heaven, but thirty-five year old cancer patients (with three small kids)… not so much. I told you I believe, but it doesn’t always make the grief any better. It just doesn’t.

Yet, I’m convinced that the grace and hope we hold on to involves the promise of Heaven. I believe.

A few days ago, Lorna called me to share a story with me. I was blown away. I immediately asked for permission to pass it on to you. So, here goes.

The wife of a McGregor City Councilman had an amazing dream or vision and passed the information on to Jimmy. Here is that dream:

I saw Jimmy and Rhett arm and arm, walking away together. There was peace and easiness. They were like Abraham and his son Isaac. They were walking alone on a purpose for a mission.

Along with the dream, she told Jimmy that she believed that God had something for him. He needed to get alone with the Lord to seek what that word might be. Later that night, instead of going to bed after the news, Jimmy went to Rhett’s room and lay down on his bed. He stayed there for a bit to pray and asked what God might have for him. Jimmy was asking for a visitation.

After a while, Jimmy went to his own bed and went to sleep. He awoke with this encounter. (Dreams need to be interpreted. I personally believe God gave Jimmy a night-vision, and visions are mostly literal. You’re free to believe whatever you will about it all.) Jimmy recounts the encounter he had that night while asleep:

I’m at my mom and dad’s house standing in the kitchen by the table. It is around lunchtime. Mom and Dad are there, but I don’t see them. Papa (Jimmy’s maternal grandfather, died 1999) walks into the house and into the kitchen. He is dressed like he always was with tan khaki pants, a collared shirt, a sweater, and a hat. About this time I know that I’m dreaming and feel a little anxious because I know that what is going to be a good dream will end.

 Papa didn’t say much except that he had some people to show me. I was immediately excited because I knew that Rhett would be one of them. He then said, “Mary Alice is coming in.” (Mary Alice is Jimmy’s maternal grandmother. MA died 2009) I walked out of the kitchen, turned toward the door, and saw Grandma walking in. I began walking towards Grandma and just as I was about to greet her, Jan walked in. (Jan is Jimmy’s sister who was killed in an automobile accident in 1989.) Jan was beautiful. She looked twenty-one years old, she was thin with long blonde hair, and she had on “the denim dress.” I was so glad to see her! We hugged for a minute, smiled, and we were so glad to see each other.

 We both knew that who I really wanted to see was Rhett. I excitedly asked her, “Have you seen Rhett? Where is he?”

 She had her hands on both my arms and said with a smile, “Are you kidding me? I saw him the moment he got here!”

 I said, “Is he coming? Am I going to get to see him? Is he okay?”

 She laughed and said, “He’s great, but he’s not coming today; He’s too busy. He’s all over the place, but he’s great.”

END

See. There is a glimmer of hope. There is more, and Heaven is a place teeming with life, love, and activity. There really is a great cloud of witnesses. Maybe everyone is not on board with that, but I can definitely get good with it.

As amazing and wonderful as this encounter was, the ache of loss is still very real for Rhett’s hurting parents. There are too many unanswered questions—too many facets that will never change what has happened to their kid. Life itself is viewed through very altered lens. It’s going to take a while to adjust with equilibrium.

But, if you were at Rhett’s funeral, you saw what they did. Right? You saw it. They stood, embraced each other, lifted their hands, and sang from their pit of pain:

I need you Jesus, come to my rescue.

Where else can I go?

Capture me with Your grace.

I will follow You.

I will follow You.

That is where they are. That is their daily routine, and I think we all should all follow their lead.

Lord, help our belief and our unbelief. We need your help. Grant us the peace that supersedes our fragile understanding. Bless my sweet friends and their precious family. May they all tangibly feel your presence nearby. Thank you for your love. Flood them with your grace. Today… tomorrow… until we’re all together again… Amen.

Love you all,

Mike

xo