Five Years

Five years that you've been gone.
Five years of recycled stories and photos.
Five years lamenting the music, laughter and vibrancy missing from our lives.
Five years of shifting the weight of heart-aching loss like a bag of boulders,
from one side to another and back again, trying to find a way to get comfortable.
Five years trying to come to terms with the emptiness in the place that was once filled with you.
Five years of missing you every single day.
Five years of wishing this wasn't our story...searching for a different ending than the one we got.

Our faces are different now without you.
We are each so changed...weaker...stooped...aware of our frailty.
No energy for the superfical, shallow, or stressful.
We each have struggled to find a new way to live on.
We seem both hungry for and wary of happiness
Knowing it can be snatched away in the blink of an eye.
Loss hurts more than we ever knew.
Life is more fragile than we ever imagined.
Life is a house of sorrow and now we know it.

Faith is the anchor of the weary soul and we cling to it.
Our skeptical hearts have journeyed into doubt and nihilism.
Our pat answers have been ripped up like useless scraps in our hands.
Yet we've been opened to a world beyond, an unseen world of beauty and hope.
You have stirred in us a dream for a life to come.
You have pushed us into the deep waters of mystery, where we swim most of the time now--
not well, but these are our refreshing waters.
We go gentle into them. They are unfamiliar, but they are the hope that leads us forward.
Faith is the anchor.

Where are you now?
When you flew away on angels' wings, where did you go?
Where is that place where we feel you still alive?
You are not what the greeting cards say.
You are not the wind in the trees.
You are not the cardinals or the dragonflies or the butterflies that we love.
No. You are more than that.

You speak to us.
We hear your voice.
You meet us in our dreams.
Sometimes the brick wall that separates us becomes a gossamer veil and we are in the same place.
We hear you whispering words of hope and perseverance, comfort and the joy to come.

God is there in that place where time and space fade.
That is our secret miracle, our prayer closet.
That is how we live now.
All will be well. All will be well.
That is what we hear.
Stay close.
That is what we hear.

The light that shines in the darkness leads us.
Grace carries us.
Life is a raw, glorious mess, but
Grace
is
sculpted
in death.


You told us so.
Five years ago.

Joseph Neal Johnson

8/17/1979-5/22/2008

Joseph= "He shall add"

We love you, beautiful son. 

Thank you for adding your love, light and strength to our lives. 

We will hold on to the hope of heaven-reunion day. 

John 14:1-3 

"Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am." 

Saying Goodbye to a Friend

John, Curt, Patti, Jeff

This is one of my favorite pictures of my friends, Curt and Patti. Curt went home to be with the Lord on December 4, after suffering through a brain tumor and treatment. He was a great man and a  pastor at our Maui Church. The following words are from a comment I wrote on his family's blog. We will miss you, Curt. All our love to Patti and the family.  

Fifteen years of sharing a men's group with Joe, week after week, year after year, Joe said Curt was a true friend and a support through thick and thin--one of the dearest friends of his life. One of my (Karen's) most cherished memories is of our son's Baldwin High graduation. Joey wore Maui casual: slippers and shorts under his gown, thinking he could outsmart the dress code of slacks, shoes, shirt and tie. Not a chance. They pulled him out of the line up and said, "NO slacks, no diploma". We were too far from Kihei to make it back in time. The traffic outside the stadium was snarled in a standstill. Nonetheless and without a moment's hesitation, Curt came to the rescue. Despite the fact that his own daughter was also graduating, he blasted out of the stadium, drove home, grabbed the necessary garb from his own closet and got it back to Baldwin High in the nick of time for our son to walk the processional with his classmates. I cannot see those graduation photos without seeing Curt, the man who made it possible.


Curt was a man of character, unselfishness, wisdom, strength, calm and determination. He seemed to intuitively know how to solve just about any problem--he'd seen it all. He was kind, friendly, and the best Sunday morning emcee I've ever seen. He knew how to take the cringe out an awkward moment and make everyone relax.


The last time I saw Curt, he was at the beginning of his cancer, in the hospital, post-surgery. Our trip to Maui coincided, and I was so glad we were able to see him. As we surrounded him in a circle of prayer and support, I saw one tear trickle down his cheek. That is my final and most poignant memory of him. I think he knew it was the beginning of the end of his life's journey, and though he was courageous, I think it was the realization that this was going to be his goodbye to all of us. We were so optimistic, and I only realize this now in hindsight. I am so glad I had that moment with that beautiful man. We will miss our dear friend, and know that Heaven is better for having him there--though we are poorer without him. Thank you, Curt, for being an amazing, good and faithful servant, and our friend.

My Beautiful Boy

I remember the day I gave birth to this beautiful child. I didn't know I was having a boy, but having had our two darling girls, and pink everything and rhinestones and princess costumes,we were ready to walk on the wild side over snips and snails and puppy dog tails. Joey came home and snuggled immediately into the family circle. There was no 3rd child adjustment--he just slid in and sync'ed into the rhythm. And he was always that way, wherever he went. He seemed to slide into any new environment with ease--kindergarten, youth group, his new school in Maui, his college dorm. He made friends easily and knew how to make strangers laugh. He was easy to know and love.

 Here he is at one, with a bump on his forehead, sitting on his big boy flip-down chair. I loved that little jacket with the wooly collar. I guess that's why he's wearing it with his shorts! Loved the knees--so round and smooth, and the little folded hands. That was before his limbs got all long and gangly. He eventually grew into his ears, but the soft eyes and the smooth line of his smile never changed.

Sitting by a campfire, 27 years later, on the road someplace north,  maybe Alaska. He was never so happy as when he was sitting in the great outdoors, breathing it in. Trees, campfires, stars, beaches, waves, mountains, snow. All of it. Staring at it and thinking, absorbing. Thanks to Rachel's artist eye and quick camera, we have many of these treasured moments preserved.

His heart and soul were big enough for the sweeping beauty behind him. He fit there and celebrated it.

And because of this, I believe he is having a very similar experience in Paradise. Celebrating and exploring a universe of unbelievable sights.

He lived with zest and passion. He could make fun in a split second. He was highly verbal, especially for a boy, and always had a story to tell. He was a typical family baby--he loved to entertain, and he vitalized any gathering with his humor. I miss his wit and energy so much...and his wisdom and wry insight too.

He was an explorer. He was curious. He was an adventurer. I am so glad he got out and saw the world, and encouraged me to do the same. He was so vibrant and alive that it was contagious. He widened my view. He lead the way. He continues to do that from Heaven, as he has opened my eyes to th world to come.  I have come to an assurance that even though he is far away, he is all the more alive, and he is waiting with family and new friends for the day we join him.  

His other happy place: in a studio, or on a stage, with a guitar in his hands. He was a singer, a song writer, a musician at his core. This was what he was doing on the final night of his life, and at around 2 am he went to bed... and woke up in another world. Did he smile when he understood? Did two angels whisk him up into the stratosphere and beyond?  And that moment of being in the presence of God? --on his knees, face down, grateful and awestruck. What a rush of reality. We are waiting with faith and hope for that moment of reunion and our own inevitable merciful encounter with the Holy One.

For now, we are earthbound. We are trying to live despite our loss, and love those around us better than we ever have.

On Joey's last birthday before he died, the last we ever shared with him, we had a big poker night at his sister Jaime's house. Hours at the green felt table, joking, strategizing, bluffing his way through-- seriously intent on winning a pile of colored chips.  He was always competitive.  I can't remember now if he won, or if he came in second, but what mattered was this: we all won. It was a rich night of friendship, companionship,  laughter and love. It was good. A memory for the decades to come.

It's so important to make sweet memories with those you love. You never know when they will  have to sustain someone for the rest of their earthly lives.

Vintage Joey. Long limbs, t-shirt and jeans, sitting in the woods, breathing deeply in the cool, green-filled air. I picture him like this now. Peaceful, appreciative, thoughtful, content, alive to what stands before him, alive to a universe full of love and beauty, and waiting for us.

I have spent the past three years trying to understand the mystery of life, the whys of my own journey, and the purpose of Joey's short life. Through the tears and the sorrow, my heart has broken open. New things have been planted in that fertile ground. My faith has grown. I sometimes wondered if I would ever trust God again. But I do, and more than ever. We are a candle in the wind. He is eternal. He will explain it all someday and it will make sense. For now, Jesus loves me, and faith, hope and love abide.

Happy Birthday, my precious Joey, my beautiful son. Thank you for all you gave to all of us. Your mother loves you, loves knowing you are safe, misses you deeply, and longs for you with hope and a promise of the world to come.

We are gathered in a circle of love today, our family with Rachel and Kevin and Molly and Josie and Ryan, and remembering beautiful you.

John 14:1-3

 “Let not your heart be troubled; you believe in God, believe also in Me.  In My Father’s house are many mansions; if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself; that where I am, there you may be also.

Somewhere Over the Rainbow

I never realized, till Joey went to Heaven, how much music, art and literature are really about that beautiful place. I began to see it everywhere, and this song, originally made famous by Judy Garland in The Wizard of Oz, and then re-birthed with a Hawaiian vibe by Bruddah Iz and his ukulele,  is one that stands out in particular.   There is such a deep longing for Heaven in every human heart. And if we long for it, then God has not only created the longing, but He has also created the fulfillment--the Place.

This artist has taken liberties with the lyrics. Where he has put the word laughter, the actual lyrics say, "Where troubles melt like lemon drops, away above the chimney tops..." Troubles, not laughter. Troubles seem to be a very important part of the transforming process of life. Laughter is nice, but it doesn't change a thing in us.  The sufferings and trials of life, and how we respond to them,  are the telling thing.

The mystery of suffering is a big one, and needless to say, I don't pretend to understand it. But I have concluded one thing:  troubles are intended to make us fit for Heaven. If we walk through them in simple trust and obedience, even when we are crushed, filled with questions, filled with doubts and fears, we will be transformed. But if trouble turns us away from God, or we attempt to fix it our own way, or surrender ourselves to hedonism to make the pain go away, it locks out its necessary effect.

 Suffering, in and of itself, will not improve us. We have to make a choice about the suffering for it to make us better. If it is painstakingly borne as being permitted by a loving heavenly Father for a good purpose, it will eventually produce character, perseverance, and love. Then, we can know that troubles are doing a good work in us--a work that's essential. Because frankly, and this is the heart of the matter, most of us would ruin Heaven, and create another tragic earth,  if we are not transformed on some level before we get there.

Don't you agree?

So now I am often saying, "God, transform me. Use my suffering to make me better." 

And though it's not easy, I try to really mean it. Cuz in my deepest heart of hearts, that's what I need.  

 Somewhere over the rainbow, I'll wake up in a place where there are no more troubles...this NOW is my only moment to be changed by them.

II Peter 1: 5-15
 For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; and to godliness, mutual affection; and to mutual affection, love. For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. But whoever does not have them is nearsighted and blind, forgetting that they have been cleansed from their past sins.

Therefore, my brothers and sisters, make every effort to confirm your calling and election. For if you do these things, you will never stumble, and you will receive a rich welcome into the eternal kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Comforting Scriptures for the Bereaved

I am missing my son terribly as this anniversary approaches. This morning I am preaching to myself. Scripture is such a comfort when I am beside myself with grief and longing. My son is alive, though the separation is difficult. But he is alive and well and we will be reunited.


Philippians 1:21
For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. (NIV)

Death for the believer brings a better life than this earthly existence.



Revelation 14:13

And I heard a voice from heaven saying, “Write this down: Blessed are those who die in the Lord from now on. Yes, says the Spirit, they are blessed indeed, for they will rest from their hard work; for their good deeds follow them!” (NLT)

Those who die in the Lord are blessed. That means happy. They rest (as in "vacation"), they are rewarded for the good they did. And my son did so much good.



Psalm 116:15

Precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of his saints. (NIV)

God is tender toward his children when they die, and the bereaved who are left behind. The pain is not inconsequential to God.





Romans 14:8

If we live, we live to the Lord; and if we die, we die to the Lord. So, whether we live or die, we belong to the Lord. (NIV)

We belong to him, in life and in death. We are never out of His hand or heart. God's relationship with us is steady.




Philippians 3:20-21

But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ, who, by the power that enables him to bring everything under his control, will transform our lowly bodies so that they will be like his glorious body. (NIV)

Heaven is our true home. The earthly life is preparation for the life to come, not an end in itself. The best is yet to come. And He says our bodies will be like his resurrected body.




John 11:25-26

Jesus said to her, "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?" (NIV)

Anyone who believes in Christ never truly dies. They only die to this world. They shed their earthly skin for an eternal body and live fully on the other shore.

I am thankful for the peace and rest that only God can provide. He is my hiding place, my strong tower, my shield, my Savior, and the everlasting arms that hold my son safely for that great day. 

Rob Bell's "Love Wins"

Rob Bell and the book jacket for Love Wins

First, let me share what I liked about the book:

1. I am glad he wrote this book. It is the single most important topic of consideration for every single human being living in this world. The title is excellent and intriguing. The book is rightfully generating a furor of controversy and that's a good thing. Another boring, dusty theology book couldn't have created the fertile ground for discussion that this provocative book and title have generated. CNN, Fox, ABC, NBC, CBS, the morning shows, youtube...fantastic debate has made it to the airwaves, and I have been wonderfully surprised that so many are engaged. I've never heard these topics make prime time in all my decades, so I would say that's a breakthrough of epic proportions. Bravo to Rob Bell for that.

2. I love his wide view of grace and God's mercy. That is, after all, what we are talking about when we say it's the gospel-- "Good News". I found his words on this topic to be his most eloquent and inspiring in the entire book. He debunks myths and bad thinking, and cracks the egg of grace wide open. He allows it to be a mystery instead of a formula. What he says here is quite beautiful. Grace has been bought by the blood of Christ and He can spend it anyway He likes...and He seems to do just that, as Rob points out through a variety of New Testament stories. A quick overview of New Testament passages confirms that there are, indeed, lots of ways to come to Christ. God is dynamic and personal. And Jesus tells us that we will be surprised at who will and will not be in Heaven. Ultimately, it is clear that Love Wins out in the end. Much more than any of us deserve.

3. Rob's questions, many that he himself answers imprecisely, inadequately, and naively are, nonetheless, fantastic, insightful questions. He is providing such rich fodder for the best thinkers, writers, teachers, preachers among us. I hope they will tackle them and give us better, more biblical, more rigorous answers than Rob has given to this point. Nonetheless, I salute him for asking them. That is the first and most important stepping stone in the process of knowledge, and he has kicked the ball into play. It feels portentous, like some very good things will come as a result of what he has done.

4. I love Rob's emphasis on the word ALL. He repeats a number of scriptures that say God seeks all people and will restore all things. He makes us really think about what that actually means. Does God get His way? I honestly admit I don't know how it works, I don't know the Greek and Hebrew, but I do love that it can't simply be ignored. God's great heart reaches out to save everybody and everything and how wonderful to be reminded of that again.

Those are some of the strengths of the book. The weaknesses? These are my personal objections to some of what he's written, from a layman's perspective without the benefit of a theology degree.

1. His view of the afterlife is such a mish-mash hodge-podge of verses on the new heaven and earth, paradise, the temporary heaven, hades, the temporary hell, the millenial age, the ongoing earth, that you wonder if he has ever taken a course in systematic theology. He makes bad sense out of something that Randy Alcorn in the book Heaven has already made much more clear. When you have an essential beloved person in heaven, you spend a considerable amount of time sorting what you can about the afterlife from scripture. On the basis of Rob's sloppy research, he has obviously never had a pressing need to do just that.

2. His argument that God wouldn't save a few and send billions to hell for not saying the "right" prayer is overwrought hyperbole. It makes the church look stupid, which isn't kind of him. I've never actually heard a preacher say a thing like that...at least no one that anyone is listening to. Jesus Himself said the road to life is narrow and few find it, while the way to destruction is broad and many go there-in. The terms, "few" and "many" are general terms that have no mathematical component to them, and to attach "billions" to it is a disservice. It causes people to stop paying attention to what Jesus said, (which was meant to inspire us to ask ourselves if we have entered by the narrow or broad gate --a question to which each of us intuitively know the answer), and to begin ridiculing the concept.

3. Rob's insinuation that Christians don't take care of social justice issues because we don't see the earth as ongoing, is a huge error. Christians are the largest, most generous supporters of human needs causes on the planet, whether they believe the earth will "continue on" or not. That generosity is motivated out of love and compassion, not simply trying to fix this place. I think it's pretty clear that this place will not arrive at "fixed". Revelation tells us it will eventually be consumed by fire and there will be a new heaven and a new earth. The demise of the earth is a bad chapter in a book that has a shining, happy ending, but loving the people on this earth has eternal value.

4. The most personally offensive to me? Rob's discussion of life and death as the cycle through which all good things come. His reasoning is that life and death are a cycle since creation, and therefore part of God's great plan. He uses the example that the plant has to die to give us life; the firefighter has to die to save someone else's life. I had a hard time with his shallow thinking on this topic. Having lived through the death of someone essential to my life, I don't see death in general as the mechanism that God uses to restore the earth. He used One Death, Christ's death, to make sure that death died and He tells us that death is the last enemy that will die. Death is an enemy, not a friend. An aberration, not the original plan. It is a result of fallenness, a consequence with which we are forced to live, not a blessing to the planet. How did he miss this great fundamental truth in seminary?

5. My last objection to the book is an assessment about Rob's character. I sense that Rob has never really suffered. He grew up loved and sheltered in an intact, Christian family. He is white, educated, and wealthy. He is a fantastically gifted communicator, he has a large and successful church, he appears to be happily married, he has healthy children, he is still young. How close has evil ever come to him? How much has he lost in life? It is not his fault he hasn't suffered. Who would wish that on anybody? But I have to say that he lacks experience and credibility with those who have suffered, and there is a blitheness in tone when people haven't suffered that can be instantly picked up on the radar screen by those who have. While he is compassionate toward the hurting, there is no indication that he has ever suffered enough personal pain to be left longing for relief and comfort and heaven. If he had, I daresay he would view this tired earth, and the glorious heaven to come, through somewhat different eyes.

Just a thought. My small two cents. What do you think of Love Wins?

But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our lowly body to be like his glorious body, by the power that enables him even to subject all things to himself. —Philippians 3:20-21

White Christmas

Joey and Rachel in Aspen, Winter 2008

We've had an unheard of eleven inches of snow dumped on us in the last 24 hours. It's absolutely gorgeous, so still, so pure, so soft. I heard the snow has put Virginia in a state of emergency, but we are totally loving it. I realize it isn't such a blessing if you are a homeless person or if your power has gone out, but for those of us lucky enough to be in warm, cozy houses with blazing fires and electricity and yummy food in the oven, it's a treat and a half. We are enjoying being all together and having Rachel with us for this, our third Christmas since Joey went to Heaven. We miss him so much it hurts to think about it. The snow is a great distraction, and distraction is a helpful thing for mourners. Today everyone donned their snow clothes and built a great big, perfectly round snowman out front. When I say perfect, I mean picture perfect --Christmas card perfect. Not sloppy in any detail, and that's because we had some artists working on it (Rachel, Clare, JoAnne). It makes a difference, you know.

Our snowy Christmases always included Joey. His absence is profound. Today I just want to tell him that I love him from the depths of my mother's heart, and that I sorely miss all those times we had and wish they hadn't ended so soon. I do hope that he is having an incredible Christmas in Heaven. I suspect that they celebrate it there, in ways we can only imagine. I believe that he misses us too, and that he is gathered with his grandparents and Kit and our dog Mooshui, and Lindsey and Cody, and maybe some new friends like Baby Kaia and Angie and Katie and Sarah and Josh. I believe he prays for us, and looks forward to the day when we are all reunited. Death is a cold, hard barrier when people love each other, but I am convinced that one day the wall will come down. Our eyes will be opened as never before to a place that we have only dreamed about in our deepest heart of hearts. I can hardly wait to be together again and for the joy of hugging my beloved son.

Mourning Another Birthday

Joseph Neal Johnson 8/17/79-5/22/08

I miss you, beautiful son.

Miss your presence here with us.

Miss your warmth and humor, your enthusiasm for life, your insight and interested mind.

I miss getting hugged by you. Tall tender hugs. No one hugs me like that anymore.

I loved being your mother. I felt so proud of you. I loved your vibrance--that red hair and those deep brown eyes and the radiant, ever-ready smile.

I miss the closeness we all felt with you, and the way you enjoyed being with us.

I miss traveling with you, meeting up at the airport someplace, and exploring the world through your lively commentary and alert eyes.

I miss my cultural guide, and your efforts to keep me properly informed.

You, my son with an opinion on everything, also listened.

I loved our talks.

Playing music with your dad, or talking investment schemes. Laughing with your sisters and brother-in-laws. Entertaining your beloved nieces and nephews. Surfing, eating, traveling with Rachel. Rushing at life with Kevin and JR and Theo and Josh and so many others. And music.

Your life was rich with the sound of melodies

rising up.

Your voice --a song.

Cut short.

I can hardly wait to open the door one day and find you standing there.

Radiant and alive.

I miss you so, beautiful son.

For God loved the world so much that he gave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life.
John 3:16

Pushing Forward

So much, since the moment my son died, has been a push forward. Push forward to make the arrangements, push forward to do a memorial service, push forward to pack up his house and the precious pieces of his life, push forward to get up the next day. Push forward to pack again, this time moving your own life cross-country. Push forward to unpack, resettle, begin again. Push forward while your feet are in concrete, your heart has stopped, and your life looks like a disaster film.

Pushing forward is what we do when we HAVE to do. Push forward is for painful but unavoidable things. It's not like running forward. That is reserved for pleasure, for the beautiful and the delightful things in life. Pushing forward is a discipline and an obedience. I can see how people weary of pushing forward and just let go. I get that. It's grim and tiring and relentless and sometimes seems pointless. What's it all for? We're all going to die anyway. (A newly acquired insight--I'm not sure how I missed that before.)

I have found new solace in a reminder from Rick Warren's book The Purpose-Driven Life. He gives a quick summary of life by simply saying, "life is a test, a trust and a temporary assignment". Easy to say, easy to remember, easy to mentally grab when I'm at a loss for direction. Basic. Helpful. Anchoring. Comforting.

The "test" part is easy enough to see. For me, right now, the test is whether or not I will trust the God who has declared His love for me, even though I walk a dark valley. Or will I only trust Him on the sunny days, when the cupboards are full and the car doesn't break down? In my heart and in my will, after the loss of Joey, I've re-made a decision to trust His good character. I believe Him when He says all things will ultimately work together for good. I've released my expectations of what He has to do for me in this life. I'm counting on Him showing me someday, detail by detail, how He wove my sad story into a bigger, more beautiful story of redemption. I'm trusting Him to turn my water into wine.

The "trust" part of my purpose-driven life is a little more complicated. It means I've been entrusted to do something good with the bad in my life. I can trust God to do good with bad, but can He trust me? Can the people around me trust me? Will I show them a way through suffering and loss that's honest but also hopeful? Will my life story kill their faith and joy, or will it build it? Will I leave them unsure, unstable and doubting, or will my story reassure them that their faith in God can carry them through whatever losses and trials life brings them? That's where I live right now. I still have more questions than answers, but I know what I'm wishing for. I'm reaching for hope, for the sake of my grandchildren, and my daughters, and anyone else who may be watching me. That is the engine that gets me out of bed when the clock strikes 7 am and I start another day of living by faith in the midst of crucial, unyielding disappointment.

The fact that life is a temporary assignment helps. That's the most comforting part of Warren's three-part equation. I couldn't live with an eternity of loss and grief, but I can live with a season of it. God was indeed merciful to make the average human lifespan short enough that we could get to the end of it, make the cross over, and then, after all that, find everything we'd ever been longing for on the other side of it. (Need I mention that this only inspires gratitude when it's not your child whose lifespan is short?)

I am thankful for the statistical brevity of my own numbered days. I feel I can make the journey. However difficult my days are here, I am certain there's something so very good waiting for me on the other side, and that gives me strength to bear the burdens of this life. In this moment, my work is unfinished. There are tasks and lessons and people with which I have been entrusted. I don't have a big, impressive plan, (wish I did) but I do want to sort it out and live the truth and give it my best. I do want to finish well.

And so, I push forward.

Philippians 3:14
I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.

Two Years Ago

A devastated family commits a precious son to God's care...

This brokenhearted mama scatters his precious ashes in the water, and watches as they mingle with the flowers...

Friends paddle us into shore, so near us in our agony...

thank you for being there for us still.

Goodbye, Beautiful and Beloved Joey.

Our wonderful son, brother, uncle, nephew, friend...

We love you so very deeply and miss you every moment.

We will never see this world the same again without you in it.

Aloha Oe...until we meet again.

Joseph Neal Johnson

8/17/79 ~5/22/08

in hope of eternal life, which God, who never lies, promised before the ages began

Titus 1:2

Dream

Joe woke up sobbing this morning. He turned to me and told me that he had just had the most vivid dream of a plane that had crash-landed, and everyone was scrambling to get out of the plane, and he was the last on board. All the passengers were jumping into the water, and he was in back, waiting his turn, wrapped only in a towel. As he was leaving the rear of the plane, he noticed it began moving and he saw there was a semi-truck pulling the plane out and along a wharf. There were three men in the cab of the truck who were laughing like they do this all the time. As he was walking away in his towel, the three men greeted him, and one of them had a polaroid instant camera and snapped two pictures of him and handed them to him and said: "You will like these". Joe took them and laughed thinking, " This will be proof for Karen that this really happened".

As he walked into the crowded terminal, packed with people because of the crash, he looked down at the developing pictures. Instead of finding pictures of himself, they were pictures of Joey, all radiant and beautiful. Joe was thinking how happy he was that he had gotten some new pictures of Joey, when suddenly it dawned on him that these had just been taken only minutes before. He fell to his knees sobbing, which woke him up, still sobbing.

His interpretation of the dream: the plane is life, the crash is all that goes wrong in our broken world, God has to tow us out of the crash, the drivers are angels, God's ministering servants, the towel indicates that all material things are gone, and don't matter, the pictures of Joey were a window into eternity, the reality is not this life, but the life beyond.

Good dream--good tears.

Joey is alive and well and in another place, but not so very far away.

Acts 2:17 In the last days, God says, I will pour out my Spirit on all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy, your young men will see visions, your old men will dream dreams.

Think Heaven

My view of Heaven has radically changed in the past year and a half. When Joey departed earth, I had a dismally small view of Heaven--not that I knew that. In hindsight, I can see that I viewed it as a blandly mysterious, relatively colorless place, where people wait things out till the end of the world. It took me more than a few days to mentally transfer his spirit there, so abrupt was his departure. And then, I wasn't comforted by my notion of it at all. All I could feel was the deep gaping void of his absence and a shattering sense that we all had been cheated of his life, all of us including Joey. As time has passed, I still conclude that we were cheated, but now I'm not so certain that he was. Now I'm thinking he's the lucky one, he's the leader, and like a kid at Disneyland, he was passed to the front of the line for a still unknown reason, and he's loving every minute of it. He's supremely alive in an incredibly, indescribably wonderful way.

What does it mean to be alive in Heaven? I know the specific verses about Heaven, but they are, in my opinion, very thin on description. I was initially discouraged by this because I had not developed my imagination about Heaven. I couldn't picture what Joey was doing and I secretly felt it must not be much if God didn't bother to describe it.

But bit by bit, new light has dawned. Scripture now reads like a new book to me. Old familiar words that I had taken for granted, have taken on new life and meaning. What I notice in a new way as I read , what pops out at me now, are all the verses on eternal life. Everywhere, everywhere, verses and promises and encouragement based on the idea of eternal life. Few descriptions of Heaven, but many, many promises about eternal life, over and over again. Jesus doesn't explain what it is, but He relentlessly elevates it as the ultimate prize. It occurred to me that eternal life is not some space-agey place out in the stars that needs to be described. But it is this life, only the best of this life, the perfect part originally created by God before sin, continuing on. In a better way, in a better place, with better people, and with our beautiful God in the center of it all. Paradise.

My favorite verse is this one from John 11:25-26:

Jesus said to her, "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?"

Those words tell me that death for a believer in Christ, like my son Joey, is merely a matter of geography--alive, but in a different place. Though we are suffering loss, Joey isn't. He simply shed a fragile skin, but he's alive, he never died, he lives in spite of dying--however you say it, it's good news. I think I thought I believed that before Joey departed, but then the unthinkable happened and the reality of the death of our beloved was so much more horrible than I ever imagined, I just wasn't sure of anything anymore.

If God has done anything in me since Joey left, it's been to re-shape my view of Heaven. Over and over again, I see and hear things that rebuild my confidence in its reality. I'm taking it personally. I believe God is on a campaign to convince me of the reality of Heaven. And it's not just from His Word, which is ultimately powerful, but He is corroborating His Word from nature, from history, from music, from movies, from the longings of our hearts for perfection, beauty and love.

It's safe to say it's a conviction now. I don't doubt it anymore. I don't dread it anymore. It's vivid and full of life and creation. It's better to me than earth, this place that I used to love so well that I tried to squeeze every bit of life out of it. I confess I mistook it for heaven and counted on it too much for my happiness. I've had to do quite a bit of reorganizing my life around some new truth. But now I'm certain that the place of my dreams lies in my future. And now, more often than not, I'm restlessly biding my time for my Homecoming day, and instead of longing for Joey to return, I long to go there and be with him.

Death and Avatar and Imagination

My son's death has killed a lot of my fascination with this world. Things which were once enthralling to me have simply lost their lustre. How good can a place really be when, in the end, everything dies? Every person, every creature, every growing thing, the planet itself-- all that we hold so dear, some sooner, some later, but all, all of it ultimately doomed. Why I never allowed this to sink in before, I cannot say. I suppose the despair of death had never touched me personally.

Now I see death everywhere. We are trained to ignore it, but I can't anymore. I see death, disease, decline, everywhere now and I cannot romanticize it in any way. I don't know how people do that. I cannot in any way connect with the "circle of life" mentality, the Hospice talk about death being a "natural transition", the new age approach that says we reincarnate over and over again, or the corporate approach that says that three days of Bereavement Leave from work is sufficient to box that all up and move on. I can't. Everything inside of me revolts against death and the acceptance of it. I will never make my peace with it.

We lost the battle way back in the Garden of Eden, and now we pretend, with all our busy activity, that we are building something that will last. But pretending doesn't change the facts. The fact is, we are stuck on a dying planet and we are making the best of a bad situation. We are making do now. At worst we live in despair, or by distracting ourselves in hedonism. At best we create beauty and give love to make our time here bearable. But we are, underneath it all, merely surviving, living out our days here, because death has stripped us of our hope for more.

Death is awful and final. It's our enemy. Like a mass murderer insanely slashing at us and hitting its mark, it brutally interrupts every good thing--peace, harmony, love, closeness and companionship. Death up close is harrowing, hopeless, and pitiless. It separates us with the harshest and coldest finality from those we most cherish. It destroys their precious bodies and replaces them with impervious, unbreachable brick walls that block all contact. It puts an end to dreams and innocence and happiness.

Before you pass me the Prozac, I am leading somewhere with all of this. My son's death has opened my eyes to the tragedy of life, but also to the overwhelming grace of God. We are told that He fixed it and is fixing it and will fix it all permanently, in the future, in a world to come. I believe in the world to come, I am hanging on to it with all my heart and soul. I can hardly wait for it. And this is why I liked the movie Avatar.

I know it's not a "Christian" movie. I know that it's not theologically orthodox; that it stops short of telling us the whole truth about life and death. But it doesn't have to be perfect for me to see the truth that runs through it. It inspired me anyway. And it comforted me. And most of the inspiration was on the level of imagination, because I lack imagination of my own. And imagination is what is required to keep hope alive, to get us through this life and to the one beyond.

Avatar helped me enter a spectacularly beautiful new world, similar but different, where the flowers are luminous and light up when you touch them. Where airborne jellyfish/dandylions float and land on you and take your spiritual temperature. It helped me imagine the freedom of flying on a bird, and swooping high and low and fast with no limits, and with clean, fresh air rushing at me; full of risk and excitement, but with no real danger of injury. And to imagine falling from the height of a skyscraper only to bounce on the forest floor and then being able to get up and run over trails of moss-covered branches with vistas of beauty all around me. To have a body that runs that way--alive like an adolescent, coordinated like an athlete, without tiring, without bruises, no pulled muscles or broken bones, no diseases. A body with a universe of stars on its surface.

I loved seeing a world where the old broken body is replaced with a new and beautiful and powerful one, and the sheer thrill of it drives you to out run the pain of any memories past.

As I sat and watched, I thought to myself, "So this is what my son is doing now. No wonder no one ever wants to come back."

It takes imagination to see a Savior who takes on the form of the people he's saving, who enters their world and loves them and is willing to sacrifice Himself for them. It takes imagination to create symbols of oneness and unbreakable bonds, and to summarize it with the words, " I see you".

Avatar lifted my sights again from the pages of a Book to a vision of what happened in history when Christ died for me, and what will be and much more than I can dream. The ultimate Imagineer will undoubtedly create something even more spectacular than James Cameron's gifted cast and crew can conceive... something way beyond our imaginations, but totally in sync with our deepest hopes and dreams and longings.

Eye has not seen, ear has not heard, neither has entered into the heart of man the things that God has prepared for those who love Him.

I Cor 2:9

My Son, The Genius!

Joey, reading his Bible, in a coffee shop in Montreal

This is a reprint from a post I wrote a year and a half ago. As we enter a new year I thought it was a fitting time to reprint the most essential thing about my son and the life he lived.

Joey went home to be with the Lord three months ago today. In the time since he passed, we have heard over and over again what an amazing person he was. Not a few people have called him a genius, and I have to say we saw him that way ourselves. As his family, we were daily witnesses to his hilarious insights and penetrating analysis of life, culture and current events--- and WE were impressed by him! As his proud mother I actually tried not to boast about him too much! I guess nobody will mind if I do that now.

I first suspected he was bright when he could rattle off all the names of African animals at 13 months...giraffe, warthog, zebra...he knew them all! He was highly verbal, especially for a boy, and he loved to read. When he was in second grade, he was tested by our school district and was formally and officially inducted into the GATE program for Gifted and Talented students. He got mostly A's, with little effort, and he could "wing" his way through school projects, presentations, and even speeches with great success in spite of little preparation. One time he got an A on a speech about sharks, a speech he made up on the spot based on what he remembered from the movie "Jaws"! In sixth grade he was class president, student of the year, and he won the school oratorical contest for best speech. He shone even as a kid.

After hormones hit, he was still an effortless A student. He graduated high school with a 3.8 GPA, taking mostly Advanced Placement classes. He was accepted to both UCLA and USC, but chose USC because of a scholarship to their exceptional business program. He flourished in college and became an open-minded person and a critical thinker. And being a well-rounded guy, he didn't merely focus on academics, he also absorbed everything he could about music, rock n' roll and guitar-playing. He was aware, talented and confident.

Once out of college, he started a brilliant career blending his business degree with his love of music. He worked for Universal Music Group, one of the biggest companies in the industry, learning the music biz from the inside. He left Universal to join Filter Magazine, a new music industry mag that promoted the art and the artists. By all accounts, he was a brilliant marketer and a great promoter. Last year he started his own marketing division for a company called Sauce Design. He developed marketing strategies for the sports beverage, Red Bull, and was working on a deal with Nike up to his final day.

He got a fat paycheck for all his hard work and had acquired, by age 28, three houses, a nice stock portfolio, two retirement accounts, and a nearly perfect credit score of 815! He had been to Europe three times, to Australia and the Great Barrier Reef, and he'd taken a carefully planned year-long van tour of North America, west coast to east coast, north to Alaska and south to Panama. He had his own music studio, tons of musical equipment and a half-finished cd of original songs. He was a brilliant young man and had great success by any measurement. His numerous achievements, though, couldn't prevent death and they couldn't give him eternal life. When his life was over, he stood before God and I don't think God was even slightly impressed by Joey's brains or his bank account!

Looking back on his life, there was only one truly brilliant thing that Joey did on earth and that is the only one that matters now that his earthly life is over---he believed in Jesus Christ. His childhood faith grew into an adolescent quest which grew into an adult conviction. Like all of us, he had his questions and doubts, and was at times disappointed by "religious people", but that didn't stop him from seeing that God was real and that Jesus could be trusted. He believed in Jesus, he believed that Christ's death covered his sins, and he believed he was going to meet his Maker one day and would be ready because of his faith.... and not because of anything that he had done or could do himself. He lived in a very cool world in Hollywood, where Jesus and the concept of faith don't get much airplay, but he died with a Bible by his bedside, and a firm belief in the saving grace of God.

That is paying off SO BIG right now. I like to think he entered Heaven, fell to his knees and thought to himself, "Wow! I am SO glad my parents dragged me to Sunday School!" In the long run, the smartest thing my genius son ever did was believe in Jesus. And to anyone reading, I encourage the same. Be a genius--believe in Jesus.

leaves fall

the leaves are falling now

at my feet

soft and damp

layered together

to be swept up

bagged up

tossed away

as if they never bloomed green and lush in my trees

waiting waiting

through

a long icy cold

winter

I hear they will appear

anew

Awesome and Beloved Kit Lauer

Kit, Shelly, Me and Joe

This is one of the last pictures we took with our beloved pastor and friend Kit. Kit had leukemia and he went to Heaven a few weeks after this picture was taken. Today is his birthday.

Kit was a real-life hero and the greatest man we have ever known. He had a huge heart and a huge intellect. He just emanated love. He was warm, kind, generous, funny, and spiritually inspiring. He lived his words, and to the very end, he trusted the Lord with UNWAVERING faith. How very blessed we were to know such a good man.

He walked with us through the loss of Joey, and in fact, we had our greatest comfort in Kit's presence after Joey's passing. He was a man living between two worlds in the last few months of his life. It is reassuring for us that he is with Joey, and I am sure Joey celebrated his arrival. Joey loved Kit and we remember how sad he was when he learned that Kit had cancer. Now we can visualize them together, along with Lindsay, Kit's niece.

We miss you, Kit, and think of you today with overflowing gratitude.

We send love and comfort to Shelley, Maisha and Mikey, Buddy, and all the wonderful, incredible Lauers.

Kit Lauer

September 14, 1947-April 24, 2009

2 Timothy 4:7

I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.

What Happened to the Farm?

So here's the story for those of you who know us, and knew that our plan when we left Maui was to buy a little farm in the rural community of Pungo:

When we left Maui for Virginia, our emotional nerve endings were exposed and raw, and being in so much pain, we felt we needed a new way of life. We were seeking peace, tranquility and distraction, and that, in our city dweller minds, led to thoughts of open spaces, which led to thoughts of horses, goats and chickens. We found a 7-acre creekside farm back in February and went into contract on it.

The farm was supposed to close on April 30, but when April 30 came and went without a word from the sellers, we began to suspect that something was up. They are quite old, and (dare I say it in a public forum?) crotchety and cantankerous, and we were having considerable trouble pinning things down with them. It became clear to us that they were highly ambivalent. Although they needed to sell, and said they wanted to sell, and posted For Sale signs, they also wanted to keep their property, and we realized that this transaction might not go through. We set a new deadline for July 1, and made up our own Plan B, which was to move into JoAnne's soon-to-be available rental house, right down the street from Jaime's house.

July 1 came and we each had appointments with our respective lawyers, but the sellers still had not moved out of the farm property. Desperately down to the wire and needing a place to live, we moved into JoAnne's house, thinking it would be temporary. Then came more postponements and excuses. Finally two days ago, they contacted us again, saying they wanted to sign the papers that day, but still live on the farm for 2 more weeks. When we said that we would sign the papers once they were out of the place, they cancelled the deal!! Cancelled. Can you believe it??!! The nerve of some people!

Apparently they were looking for a way out, and took our terms as that opportunity! We were at first stunned, but then we were relieved. We had prayed fervently that God would lead us by opening and closing doors for us, and that is exactly, almost literally, what has happened.

So though there was some disappointment at being city dwellers again, (and shock and stupefying wonder at the craziness of this transaction) we have adjusted. Plan B saved our skin. We are very grateful for Plan B, and the fact that we have a cozy place to live right down the street from three of our precious grandchildren. It wasn't what we had in mind, but it seems a very soft place to land after our frustrations of the past two and a half months. Even the broken water heater and collapsing ceiling can't dampen our relief. We can finally get settled and that feels more than great after an unsettling year.

The moral to the story: this world is one big Plan A that has gone terribly wrong. Death, disappointments, and destroyed dreams abound and all of us get blindsided by one or more of those things on this journey. God's Plan B, Christ's death for our sin and the promise and consolation of Heaven and eternal life, while not holding the same initial appeal as our Plan A, will someday save our skin. And of course, because God is the Creator, it won't be second best. God reassures us that "Eye has not seen, and ear has not heard, neither has it entered the heart of man, the things which God has prepared for those who love Him."

So I've simply had another lesson in the aptly worded hymn: "This world is not my home, I'm just a-passing through. My treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue. The angels beckon me from Heaven's open door, and I can't feel at home in this world anymore." And I've got to say, I am really good with that.

Now all I have to do is rename my blog...any suggestions?

Heaven is Our Hope

This is the third book that has helped me over the last year, and it has provided another essential type of comfort. The previous two books validated my pain and hurt. They have been my compassionate companions, guides that have led me carefully through a rocky field littered with hidden land mines. Those two books tell me secrets known only by those who've travelled the road. This one, Heaven, has helped me to stop on the way, to look up, and to see the stars shining over my head. It has given me hope that there is something good beyond heartbreak and loss.

I never gave much thought to Heaven before Joey went. I don't know why. I was so busy with this life that I thought very little about the next. But when my son left, it took on urgent importance. Where was he? What was he doing? Did he miss us? Did he have regrets? Was he okay?

I immediately began searching my Bible for answers. I found, that though the Bible gives very little concrete description of Heaven, it never, never stops talking about eternal life. It simply promises us that it will be more than we can imagine. It finally dawned on me that Heaven is what we have here, every good and glorious thing, love and truth and beauty, without the evil, pain and suffering--- and it goes on forever. And that's just the best news.

Jesus' promise that my son would be with Him in Paradise tells me that Joey is flourishing, and that helps me beyond anything else. Randy Alcorn sees it the same way, and in this book he gives us the details. It's comforting and it's exciting, and there will be a day of reunion. That's a great source of hope that helps me see past the pain.

2 Corinthians 4:18

So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.