A New Normal

“You have a new normal.” I have used that phrase many times when counseling individuals who are facing life changes. Now, my wife is saying it to me. (See: Chapter 4 – Trusting in the Silence) This new normal has presented us with many, “I would have never thought of that,” kinds of changes and situations. Some of the changes are easily accepted. I have always been something of an introvert so not being able to carry on long personal conversations is not a great loss. If you ask my wife, she might even say that nothing has changed there.

Some of the new normal is jolting. For instance, on the second Sunday after leaving our ministry we were visiting another church. When the congregation began to sing, it struck me as it never had until that morning…I cannot sing. Granted, I have not been able to sing for some time, but that morning the new normal of never again being able to use my voice to sing struck home and deep.

Some of the more obvious changes include: no longer being able to verbally preach, no more one on one counseling, I can’t talk on the telephone, and it is impossible to converse with Siri and Alexa. Some changes and limitations we, in this life, may never be able to reconcile completely, but I do think I’m coming to terms with the Siri and Alexa situation.

There are many reasons, but in 2 Corinthians 1, the Apostle Paul makes clear one very good reason God allows his children to go through trials. As God comforts us in our pain, we should minister that same comfort to others (v. 4). Although my wife and I are not clear on all that God is doing in our lives, we would like to help (if we can) anyone who is facing unanswered and/or unanswerable questions.

Losing the Ability to Preach

Since I was 12 years old, I have been learning to preach. I love preaching. I have preached in prisons, nursing homes, jungles, churches, colleges, public and private schools, backyards, villages, garages, apartment complexes, city parks, funeral homes and street corners. For most of my life, preaching has been my life. I love to see the word of God powerfully transform lives. Let me say it again, I love preaching. So you can understand when I say, losing the ability to verbally declare God’s word is a deep and heart-rending loss.

On the afternoon of April 4, 2018, the same day as my, “I think you should look for another career,” diagnosis (See: Chapter 4 – Trusting in the Silence) the shocking reality of the loss overwhelmed me. After getting home from the doctor’s visit, I was alone in my bedroom when the truth of what we just heard from my doctor swept over me in an avalanche of emotion. I was broken. I sobbed like a baby. My sweet wife came running in and just held me while I wept uncontrollably. Even while I’m writing about it, the loss is still sharp and severely poignant.

The questions began rolling around in my head. What should I do about my church? How would I provide for my wife? What would I do with the rest of my life? How would I talk to my grandchildren? These are just a few of the questions we are asking. For most of the questions, we still have no answers…at least not yet.

Some of the best how-to-deal-with-life advice I was ever given goes something like this, “Talk to yourself like the psalmists do.” In other words, as you read through the Psalms, listen to how the authors of the Psalms talk themselves into thinking the right way about their lives, their trials, their loss and, most importantly, their God. One of my favorite examples of this principle is Asaph. Please take the time to read Asaph’s story in Psalm 73. Don’t read too fast. Let what Asaph is saying sink in. His thoughts and words may be very similar to your own. They are for me. I get Asaph. I understand his frustrations and hurt. His words echo in my heart and mind.

Asaph is honest about his anger and discouragement. He is ready to quit…to walk away, but then there is a sudden and abrupt shift in his thinking. He says in verse 17 that the change in his thinking happened when he began to worship. Worship is a mental discipline. It is more than that, of course, but we cannot properly worship God without thinking the right way about God! Thinking the right way about God will help to align our thinking about everything else, trials included. Worship brought Asaph to the place his heart could sing,

“25 Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you. 26 My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever… 28 But for me it is good to be near God; I have made the Lord God my refuge, that I may tell of all your works.”

How long has it been since your heart sang that song?

That April afternoon, I began to talk to myself. I started asking different questions. Do I love preaching more than I love Jesus? Does God ever make mistakes? Does God still love me? Can I trust his deep, deep love? That day turned out better than it started. I would never verbally preach again, but I still have God.

I have to admit that I am far too often like Asaph at the beginning of the Psalm than like Asaph at the end of the Psalm. I ask the wrong questions so I have the wrong reactions. What are you saying about God in your head and heart today? Let Asaph help. Read Psalm 73. Read it aloud. Read it aloud several times if you have to. Read it until your heart sincerely sings… “My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart…”