Author: Brad Luczywo

How much is God worth?

There’s a closeness with the Lord that comes through trials that doesn’t come any other way.
James MacDonald, When Life is Hard

There is no avoiding difficult circumstances in this life, unfortunately. I think that’s why I’ve always held fast to the book of Job and the first chapter of James throughout my entire (admittedly easy) life. (It was also God’s grace to lead me there constantly, knowing that it would prepare me best for my wife dying so young.) You can talk yourself in circles over why this thing happened or that event took place, but that very possibly won’t get you very far. It’s likely you’ll never know. All you can do is decide how you respond to it.

It’s not true that God won’t give us more than we can handle. I certainly felt like my experience was more than I could handle, but God more than made up the difference in what I was lacking. Through it all, He kept coming closer and closer, and continues to come closer. Despite my constant failures before Him, He forgives me, picks me up and moves me along.

And it has been through all of this that I have only grown closer to God. It seems harsh to say, but the relationship that I now have with God was worth Stephanie dying. He continues to show me how He is worth so much more than her life. And I will share that with anyone who will listen. If the quote above is true, as I believe it is, then it’s easy to see why we can have joy in trials the way James tells us to do.

Trials take all shapes and sizes, from big and ugly to small and annoying. You stub your toe. A dinner date is cancelled. Your job is taken away. That favorite t-shirt ends up with the red clothes in the laundry and is never the same. A loved one dies. (Almost on the same level as the t-shirt, right?) But every time, we can use it as an opportunity to spend more time with God to deal as appropriately as possible with this particular situation.

It’s easy to think our current crisis is pretty significant. I have certainly thought the death of my wife was a big deal, but it doesn’t take long to see it can always be worse. Job is a great example, losing all his children and property in a day, only to be stricken with boils soon after and then mocked by his wife and friends. More contemporary, Robert Rogers describes his loss of his wife and four children in a flash flood from which he miraculously survived. And yet, in his book Into the Deep, he says the same thing: that his relationship with God and God’s work through him was absolutely worth his family’s lives.

And sadly, how often do I push God aside so I can watch another TV show? How often do I say that I’ll just pray a little later when I have more time? How often do I let day-to-day life get in the way of God? When life as I knew it ended, I selfishly made all the time in the world for God to hear my voice. And yet I forget about Him so easily when things are going fine. It’s always the right time to turn that attitude around.

What is God worth to you? And how do your actions prove it?

Parent-Teacher Conference

We never really change, do we? To this day, I always get nervous when I’m about to meet with an authority figure of any sort. That happened today before meeting with Brady’s preschool teacher. It’s totally irrational and my worries were immediately dissuaded upon entering the room.

“I can’t brag about Brady enough,” she said. (Strangely enough, I feel the same way. Go figure!)

She went on to tell me all the wonderful things he has learned and how he has really grown throughout the year. I see it at home, too, of course. I knew this would be a great experience for him. Brady has always been a very attached child, sticking by adults with whom he is familiar, rather than running off to play with the other kids. But now, especially at school, he joins the other groups or calls over his friends to join him.

I remember the days of exhaustion for Stephanie as she talked about how much attention he was desiring from her. It was hard, but she loved him too much to do anything but try to meet those needs. One of her highest goals for our children was that they be secure in who they are. Meeting those types of needs was part and partial to that. I wish she could be around to enjoy the benefits of his security now and ability to be more independent.

His knowledge of numbers, letters, shapes and patterns is top-notch, and his fine and gross motor skills have improved incredibly. He loves to read to himself or to others, or to listen to others read. He loves books just like I do. (I wonder if he’ll spend summers on the porch reading like I did.)

Afterwards, I arrived at my car crying. I can only think of how proud Stephanie would be. I talk to her, telling her that she would be so proud, and hoping that God will deliver the message. She poured her entire life into her family, and the seeds she planted in Brady and Halle will never stop bearing fruit. The hopes and dreams we had for our kids are just beginning. And each time I reap the benefit, I feel the sting of death. My only response to that is just to love my kids more.

Thank you, Stephanie, for serving God, me, and our children by remaining faithful to the call God had on your life in our family.

Where do they learn it?

That boy of mine, Brady, yet again amazed me. He and Halle both love taking the cushions off of the couch to play various games. (Are they alone in that?) This is constantly happening, and I have grown tired of putting the couch back together.

So, as is becoming the usual, I asked them to put it back together before we did anything else. Brady says, “Halle, I will do it, because I took it apart.”

I stopped in my tracks. Did he really just say that?

Before taking care of the couch, though, he then disappeared into one of the bedrooms. He emerged a bit later, calling me into Halle’s room in order to show me how everything has been picked up by him. Stunned, I looked towards his room, only to be told “Don’t look in there. I haven’t cleaned that yet.”

Moments later, he led me by the hand (with my eyes closed, of course) to a grand reveal of his room and how wonderfully it had been picked up.

No sooner did I overcome my disbelief that I found that he had somehow managed to put the couch back together, too.

So, I will no longer hesitate to ask him to clean up. Nor did I hesitate to give him a treat tonight for doing so much without being asked.

Learn, Live, Look

Learn from the past. Live in the present. Look to the future.

I spend a lot of time (pun intended) thinking about what I’m thinking about and how I’m thinking about it. I feel like a big source of getting off-track in our minds is when we mix up the above phrases. That’s especially true when we put “live in” with anything but “the present.” It’s at least emotionally – if not even clinically – unhealthy.

“Those who cannot learn from history are doomed to repeat it” is a common quote used to persuade people to learn from the past. Anyone who has ever known someone to die can probably remember how easy it can be to want to live in the past, pining for a time when that person was still alive, when life was as it should be. The same goes for any “loss” of another person, whether by death, divorce or otherwise. But if you’re living in the past, you’re not living in the present. And if you’re living in the past, you’re not learning from the past. I have really felt God’s presence in the lessons that can be learned from our history, both as individuals and as a group. We can also learn from other people’s histories, which is why I’m always harping on the importance of sharing our stories with anyone who will listen and also being people who are always willing to listen.

What’s hard about living in the present is that today is so short. By the time yesterday is more than barely gone, tomorrow is nearly here. “God again set a certain day, calling it ‘Today’.” (Hebrews 4:7) God found so much importance in the here and now that He gave it a specific name. Every day, we wake up to a new creation of God’s: today. “This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.” (Psalm 118:24) Are we doing that, or are we too sad that yesterday is gone or too desperate for tomorrow to be here? Every second that goes by is another opportunity for us. God gave us that second – that opportunity – out of His abundant love. How can we make the most of it?

That doesn’t mean we totally disregard the future. “Suppose one of you wants to build a tower. Will he not first sit down and estimate the cost to see if he has enough money to complete it?” (Luke 14:28) We have to consider where the Lord is leading us and how to take those lessons from the past and the events of the present and apply them to the future. If we don’t, it’s all for naught and we’ve not grown. The first chapter of the book of James implores us to learn. The reason we can have joy in our trials and sufferings is because of the atmosphere it provides for growth and improvement to make us the people we need to be for tomorrow. That’s also why he tells us not to be the person who looks in the mirror and forgets what he or she looks like.

I would love to know: what happened in your past that you can learn from in your present in order to prepare for your future?

Jesus in the Bible

Every night before bedtime, we pull out a toddler Bible to read. For as much as I want to instill good habits in Brady and Halle, I often get concerned about things just becoming routine and meaningless.

Last night, Brady proved my fears to be unwarranted. As I’m grabbing the Bible, he chimed in excitedly.

“I love the Bible!”

I applauded him, letting him know how wonderful that is, and that I love the Bible, too.

“And I love Jesus in the Bible.”

Sweet! On top of him loving Jesus, it sounds like there might be more than one Jesus that he feels the need to clarify the biblical Jesus. Of course, I don’t expect he knows that other Jesus’s today are usually called “hay-zeus” and not “gee-zuss”.

“And I love everyone in the Bible.”

Well, now that’s painting a broad stroke. Perhaps we’ll wait a little while before we start talking about Pharaoh and Herod and Judas. But, God certainly loves those people, and I wouldn’t put it past Brady to really mean everyone, including the bad guys.

As always, it’s hard not to wonder what’s really going on in a child’s mind, but I can only pray and strive to have his same enthusiasm for God’s Word.

The Perfect Example

I really appreciate my grief counselor, and how well he could listen to me and also the way he could draw me out in talking about what he knew would help me to talk out. That’s what a good counselor does, at least in my opinion. I always imagine counseling school to be basically training people how to listen really well.

“And he will be called Wonderful Counselor” – Isaiah 9:6

I have a new perspective on this verse, this name of Jesus. I don’t feel like I ever really gave it the appropriate amount of thought. But He has certainly been my best counselor through rough times of life, letting me whine and moan and complain and cry and scream about what just happened. Of course, He already knows what happened, but He wants us to tell Him. And I think most of us don’t hold back, especially with a captive audience for our complaining. But He patiently listens, and more often than not, I come to “my” own conclusions.

But as long as I’m talking to God about what’s going on, He’s on my mind as I come to conclusions and I more easily view things from His perspective and make decisions that I think would please Him. He truly is a Wonderful Counselor, drawing us out to talk about our lives and allowing us to talk ourselves to the point of better understanding or acceptance or opinion on life.

“They will call him Immanuel (which means ‘God with us’).” – Matthew 1:23

Daddy Time

Brady has never been a very good sleeper. It has taken quite a bit of work to get him into his own room regularly, and even still, he rarely stays there the entire night. One of the things that gives him comfort is for me to check on him – something started by me to encourage him that he’d be okay, but which has now become a ritual for him.

Every night, he reminds me, “Check on me in 1 (or 2 or 4) minutes.” I confirm the reservation every night. I’m recently trying to get him to realize he doesn’t need to remind me; that I always check on him.

He has also added my routine to his schedule, apparently growing more aware of what I do after he and his sister go to bed. After marking my mental calendar with his 1-minute-later checkup, he plainly tells me to watch a movie: “A bad one, but not too bad.” He apparently also understands that I watch movies that are not appropriate for him or Halle, but that there are movies even I (or anyone) shouldn’t watch. I wasn’t sure my explanation to him hit home when I tried to tell him that there are some people who don’t believe in God like we do and they don’t think “little eyes [need to] be careful what [they] see.”

So, with that, I better stick to my duties and close my computer and go watch a movie that’s not too bad.

I be happy

Recently, my 2 1/2-year-old daughter was having some rough, crabby days. Those usually consist of her scolding me for trying to tell her something or even answer a question of hers when she would prefer someone else to answer. I make it a point not to stand much for this behavior and constantly inform her that if she’s going to be crabby, she can spend some time alone in her room until she has a better attitude.

After having reminded her once again that she should not talk to me that way and be crabby for seemingly no reason, she started whining again, only to be reminded by my friend of what I had just said. I have a lot to learn from her response, which was priceless:

“Okay. I not be crabby. I be happy.”

The real lesson was in the fact that she didn’t only say it, but she then lived it out. She stopped whining and began playing happily by herself not causing any more commotion. While I understand that emotions are important and have their place, I ought to remember that it is all too easy to sin in the midst of negative emotions. Instead, “I be happy.”

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable — if anything is excellent or praiseworthy — think about such things.
Philippians 4:8

365 Years per Day

Well, here it is. Don’t act surprised to find a new post here today. I’m not. What does surprise me is my apparent lack for words now that it comes to it. I even took the day off so that I could have time alone to be with my thoughts and contemplate my emotions, attempting to put them down in 10 point font.

What I recognize most is my seeming inability to cry. Why is that? Maybe because it’s been a year. Maybe it’s because I’m only closer to God now than I was then. Maybe it has to do with all the blessings I’ve received over the past year. Maybe God won’t let me stay in that place of sorrow and loneliness and anger.

But I feel like I should still cry and should still be able to cry. In a way, crying brings Stephanie close to me. And in a way, crying brings me close to God. It’s a reminder. And, for as hard as it feels to cry, it’s even harder to be able to cry. Or so it seems. It’s when I’m not trying — and least expect it — that I read something or see something or remember something. And my eyes drain.

Quickly.

And I find it hard to be sad. I really try. I miss Stephanie and I miss that part of me. I keep trying to transport myself to those days back then when I felt everything so deeply and when the thoughts just dripped from my fingers onto my keyboard. But while I have some good moments of crying hard, it’s usually hard not to be okay. It’s hard to forget how gracious God has been to me throughout all of this and throughout my life.

Every day for the past year has each felt like a year in and of itself, and yet the last year is just a blur. The days blend together better than fruit in a smoothie, and yesterday becomes the day we were still together. I’ve been saying so often that I don’t think the heart knows how to believe the loss of a loved one. It holds on forever. But it can still go on. And so I do, with or without a choice. I just wish I didn’t feel so old because of this.

I don’t have a choice because of God. Despite what came a year ago, He’s given me so much grace and so many reasons to feel blessed. Even today, as I sat alone to think and read and write, the pastors of my church came across my path — and they prayed for me. And it reminds me that God understands my sense of humor. I’m a dork and love a good pun. I call moments like that “puns of life” — what some people would call coincidence is more often God doing something really cool that makes me smile. It’s so completely random, and yet is not surprising at all in the economy of God.

So where does that leave me? I try to cry, and He makes me smile. I ache to hurt, but laugh for joy. I hate the past, excited for the future. I ask God the questions, and He tests me first. Where have I come in the past year? What have I made of my time? How have I grown and learned and made use of what God has given me, both good and bad? Those are the things I can’t stop pondering.

So much for not having anything to say.

I no longer hate “easier”

I still have a love-hate relationship with time, such as I began to have last year. As the days have marched forward over the past year, it certainly has gotten easier. The second time I tucked the kids in on my own was certainly easier than the first time. And the third time easier than the second. And so on.

Everyone told me that it would get easier with time, and I never doubted that. But I wanted them to be wrong. I didn’t want it to get easier because I was afraid that “easier” would mean the memories were fading or my love for her was diminishing. I wanted to hold tight to all those things. And as painful as it was, I never wanted to stop crying.

But I did. And it did get easier. But “easier” hasn’t been the negative thing I envisioned. Instead, I now find more meaning in those memories. The pain and tears, while good at the time, often served to only cloud my mind regarding great truths of those moments. Now, I feel like I can really truly take hold of those memories in a way that I couldn’t before. Sometimes I still cry. Other times, I laugh. And many times, I learn.

I still constantly worry that my memories will fade. But I’ve also noticed many times when a memory that felt lost suddenly returns to me because of a comment someone makes or a random circumstance that reminds me of something she said. And it restores my hope that I might not forget everything. And “time spent” is a great friend when “time ticking” is not.