James Frazee was a 90-year-old man in our church. He stood out to me primarily because he was the oldest man in our contemporary service. Not that electric guitars or drums were his preference. He just wanted to be there with his grandkids. It wasn’t until he got sick that I learned the backstory of James’ life. He’d never tell me but his kids did as we planned for the inevitable funeral. James was a prisoner of war at the end of World War II. He actually escaped and spent a number of days dodging the authorities in Germany. When he finally found his way back to the US forces, he was malnurished, but alive. He was a hero with the medals to show for it and I didn’t even know it. All he would ever say about his life and career in the war was this: “Let’s take care of our men. We are here because they were there.”

A few years ago, I was honored to perform his funeral with the coffin draped in the stars and stripes. He showed me what a hero’s life looks like. A hero isn’t a big guy on a large stage. A hero is an average man who has the audacity to believe he can make a change in the world and someone who doesn’t care if his name is somehow tied to the achievement. A hero is a result of timing. Right man, right time, right place, right attitude. In other words, heroes are the product of divine appointments and every man has at least one. They become heroes because of their awareness of the divine manifest Presence and they act in accordance to His command.

We have many celebrities but far too few heroes.

Time is too short for me to tell about Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, David, Samuel, and the prophets, ³³ who by faith conquered kingdoms, administered justice, obtained promises, shut the mouths of lions, ³⁴ quenched the raging of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, gained strength in weakness, became mighty in battle, and put foreign armies to flight. ³⁵ Women received their dead, raised to life again. Other people were tortured, not accepting release, so that they might gain a better resurrection. ³⁶ Others experienced mockings and scourgings, as well as bonds and imprisonment. ³⁷ They were stoned, they were sawed in two, they died by the sword, they wandered about in sheepskins, in goatskins, destitute, afflicted, and mistreated. ³⁸ The world was not worthy of them. They wandered in deserts and on mountains, hiding in caves and holes in the ground.
Hebrews 11:32-38

Hebrews 11 gives you a number of profiles of heroes. Not perfect, but ultimately faithful. That’s really what defines a hero: faithfulness.

Thanks, James Frazee…  You are not forgotten.

Throughout Dad’s illness and death, I knew one thing. I would learn. God has given me the gift of experience. Yes, gift.

C.S. Lewis said it perfectly:

“Experience: that most brutal of teachers. But you learn, my God how you learn.”

This post is a reminder to me. I need to remember this experience as I engage with others who lose a family member or a close friend. Here are observations I’ve jotted down in my journal as a reminder of the universality and distinct uniqueness of those who grieve.

1. Realize that my energy level is very low. I won’t suddenly be able to do all the things I used to do with the same verve and passion that I did before my loss. I’m trying to catch up.  Lots of things hit all at once during Dad’s homegoing and I’m just trying to hang on. I have no doubt that everything will be back to normal. I will be better than I’ve ever been. There will be a depth and a drive that I didn’t have before. Just keep in mind that I’m messy right now and your grace is love personified.
2. Please try your best not to “should” on me. It’s counterproductive. In other words, don’t say I should be thankful that my loved one is in heaven, not suffering etc, etc… I know that. But I’m not handling the “should”s of life very well these days.
3. There will be glimpses of life before loss but, at first, they will be short and they’re not maintainable. You’ll see me laugh and you’ll think I’m fine. In those moments, I do feel fine but also there will be periods of deep anger and disappointment. Unless you spend a lot of time with me you probably won’t see the snot, and sweat and existential angst. Let’s both thank God for that but please keep in mind that it is there.
4. Realize that I struggle with remorse and regret. It’s crazy, but I am reliving every care decision and have haunting notions that if I could have done this or that, that I would not be experiencing the loss.   At a recent event, I ran into an old friend of the family. She hugged me and whispered, “You did good.” It was the most healing thing for me because I struggled for days about what I could have done better.
5. In the same sense, I’ve had to make a ton of decisions over the past few months. My decision-making muscles are fatigued right now. So if I seem to have lost the ability to give you a straight answer, well then… there’s your reason.
6. If I didn’t respond to you during the funeral, I truly am sorry. I know that I didn’t recognize some people right off the bat during the funeral or visitation. I’m a scattered person on a normal day. Royally scattered was I during those first few days.
7. Death, grief and responsibility have no finish line or period. Keep in mind that just because one parent died, we’re still struggling to care for the other parent who is struggling too and to a much greater extent than we are.

And the journey continues. I’m so thankful for connections that guide me through times of exhaustion and malaise. I’m also thankful for a Savior who is there every step of the way even in our times of unknowing.

In every line of the Lord’s Prayer, there’s a common thread. It’s releasing. We scan through the words and notice that the Lord’s Prayer is radically different from the modern mantras of mortal yearning. Instead of coming to God to change our circumstances, we encounter a releasing of ourselves into the gracious hand of the Father who knows exactly what we need before we ask.

Our Father who art in Heaven

I release my urge to play God with my circumstances.

Hallowed be thy Name

I release any preconceived notion that am better than others in comparison to the reality of You.

Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven

I release my kingdom to embrace yours.

Give us this day our daily bread.

I release the desire to be a self-made provider.

And forgive us our debt as we forgive our debtors.

I release forgiveness to those who’ve wounded me and I recognize and repent for the wounds I have cause to others and even to myself.

Lead us not into temptation.

I release my long-held belief that I am more powerful than my sins and addictions.

Deliver us from evil.

I release my appetite and familiarity with the evil one.

For thine is the Kingdom, and the power and the Glory forever.

I release my personal possessions, properties, fame, and strength to embrace all that is You.

When we release all these things life becomes much simpler. Even when things are difficult we find rest and release.

• So you are finding yourself in a lonely place? Good. The divine presence of God has been wanting to say something to you.
• So you are financially ruined? Good. Perhaps you are here to discover how illogical reliance on money really is.
• So you are exhausted? Good. It’s time to rest. The rest of Christ is the best rest you can have. Breathe. Drink deeply. Find rest for your soul.
• So you are feeling tested? Good. God is setting you up for greater stewardship.
• So you are grieving? Good. God is giving you a glimpse of the cross and his sorrow over lost humanity.
• So you are angry? Good. As long as you are angry about the right things. If you are, knock a few tables over.
• So you are empty? Good. This could be the perfect time for the Holy Spirit to rush into the void.
• So you are confused? Good. There’s no better time to cry out to God.
• So you can’t sleep? Good. Now is the time to be awake and listen.

Life becomes a celebration and a conversation with our Creator if we are willing to surrender everything over to Him. The other option is to keep striving when transformation and rest is waiting at arm’s length if we would only surrender.