In An Instant

Our covered porch has been largely unusable for several years. In the spring, we decided to clean it up and make a space we could enjoy. One night, my daughter, JB approached me.

JB: Dad, we should make the porch a hanging porch where everything is a swing or hammock.

Me: That’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard.

One day later…

Me: So, tell me about this thing you call a hanging porch.

After some hard work and several swipes of the credit card, I’m sitting on the hanging bed typing this post. It was a great idea, I admit. And since we live in the woods, it comes complete with nature.

In fact, a little Carolina wren built a nest in a decorative watering can and she’s very vocal about her property claim to the porch. In the beginning, I tried to dissuade her from building in the can because our neighbor has several cats that often trip the motion detectors on our security camera. Fearing for the safety of future baby birds, every time she started building her nest, I dumped it out. And every time I dumped it out, Mama Wren began building again until I gave up.

Her eggs hatched recently. At first, I knew it because Mama Wren’s angry screeching became louder when I dared enter her porch. Then I started to hear them squealing for her. It was kind of fun watching nature take its course. As they grew, poor Mama Wren flew in with worms over and over. She became a nonstop, feeding machine.

And in an instant… it all changed.

One morning I saw the watering can lying askew on the porch and I knew. I set the now-empty can back on the table. Empty but a few twigs. I find myself very sad about the baby bird’s fate and poor Mama Wren.

Mama Wren came flying in with a worm in her beak and looked inside. No one to feed. No explanation. Her babies were gone.


Things can change in an instant!

We have friends whose 21-year-old daughter was killed in a car accident last week. In an instant, their life tragically changed. I’m so broken for them. I’m so sorry for the loss of their precious girl and the potential that has been ripped away from this world. For the anniversaries, holidays, and birthdays that will have an enormous hole in them, and their new life that is a constant mix of joy and grief. I can only go a couple of minutes without picturing their faces and whispering a prayer of comfort.

Their grief journey will be different then mine. But having lived the unimaginable and being a few years down the road, I wanted to send a message of support. As I logged onto Facebook, I noticed that the last message between us was on February 13, 2015, the day Kylie died. On that day I received a sweet message of love and support. What a circle.


My thoughts put in words today are two-fold:

First: Life is meant to be lived in community, not alone. We are all called to bear each other’s burdens when they are too heavy to be lifted alone.

Second: Love well, say what needs to be said, and make the most of every moment you have. For you never know when the cat will come and your life will change in an instant.


Mama Wren keeps coming. On some trips, she has a hopeful worm in her mouth that she leaves with. On others she warns me to stay away from her nest with piercing threats. When will she know that her work is complete?



Me and God and a word called No.

There is a book I recommend to every father: The Gift of Fear by Gavin De Becker. It is a fascinating read with many takeaways – the most important of which is a list of warning signs we can look for when we find ourselves confronted with odd or potentially dangerous behavior from another. One of the warning signs of criminal behavior is a person’s inability to accept “No” for an answer. No is a valid response. In a dating situation or when a stranger offers unwanted help, the normal person will back off when told no. But a deviant mind seeks ways around the word and will not accept it.

No is a valid response to a question. We teach our children that truth and even when difficult, we have learned to accept it ourselves.

No is also a valid response to a prayer.

The Bible teaches three answers to prayer: Yes, No, and Wait.

Yes is easy. When we pray and receive what we desire there comes a satisfying confirmation of the love of our heavenly father.

No and Wait can be very hard but are valid answers nonetheless.

I believe that God always answers every prayer. My finite mind cannot grasp the logistics involved in this system, but the Bible teaches it and I accept it. While he answers prayer, he often does not always offer an explanation. Nor does he need to. He is God.

When a father tells his child no, he usually follows with an explanation for his decision: “No, you can’t eat that cricket because it will spoil your dinner.”

The child may or may not be satisfied, but God is not bound by our need of a reason. In the height of human arrogance, we demand all yes’s or a reasonable explanation for the wounding no’s. But he is God. He didn’t promise that and doesn’t owe it to us. If we expect yes to every prayer, we are immature fools who serves a genie in a bottle, not God. No’s test our faith – especially when it comes in a desperate situation and without a trace as to why.

C.S. Lewis said, “For prayer is request. The essence of request, as distinct from compulsion, is that it may or may not be granted.”

On Friday, February 13, 2015, I woke up early and went down to my basement. I got down on my knees and that didn’t feel like enough so I got down on my face and cried out, “God, heal my baby.” With my daughter’s life ebbing away in the room above me, I had faith. I truly believed with everything in my heart that even then, God would raise her up cancer-free and it would be a miracle. And she would walk out of that room and be a living testimony of His power and his mercy to this dying world.

Twelve hours later, I watched her take her last breath. I carried her lifeless body out of my house. To all of my prayers and the thousands prayed for her by others, God said no. I will never know why. I can speculate, but I cannot know. My inability to know that answer doesn’t make him any less God. Further, it doesn’t mean he didn’t answer my prayer – he just didn’t give me the answer I wanted.

It would require very little courage or faith to follow a formulaic God doling out fortune cookies with complete instructions and positive affirmation. But God is not an if/then proposition. He never said, “If you pray, I will grant.”

When I asked, God said no which leaves me two choices:

I can walk away from my faith or I can learn to live with this God who says no.

Either way, God is still God. He hasn’t changed. Have I? Has my faith?


Faith is not built by the proliferation of yes’s we accumulate. Rather, faith is molded in the fiery ashes of the painful no’s we’ve received.


I choose to stay. Some might call that foolish, but it is my choice and mine alone. It is a daily slog through the valley of why, but I still believe. I still believe. While I do not understand his will and in this case, I do not like it, I acknowledge that he is God and I am not. He owes me no explanation.

But… God and me – our relationship is different now. I tend to feel him less and see evidence of him more and in complete candor, we sometimes aren’t on speaking terms. That might make sense to no one, but it’s where I am. It’s where we are. Regardless of how I feel… he is God and I am me and that’s enough.

Me and God – we’re working through this together.