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Pastor’s Word for July 26, 2020
 
During the summer months I would like to foster conversations in our community about our faith, which touches on the most profound matters of our lives. To help get the conversation going I’m providing a weekly set of questions that you can use to help tell parts of your faith story.
 
I invite you to pick a question and share your answer with a family member or friend, and, if you would like, write it down and share with me. I would love to hear your story! I would also love for our members to hear each other’s stories, so be sure to let me know if you’d be willing to share in the weekly newsletter. I will never publish your story without your consent.
 
Here are the questions for July 26:
 
Memories: What is one of your first memories of attending a religious service?
 
Etchings: What is a promise of God that you have clung to during a difficult experience? Talk more about it.
 
Values: There is a phrase in the Bible that says, “Pray without ceasing.” What does that mean to you?
 
Actions: All of us admire certain qualities of faith in others. Describe a quality you with were more true of you.
 
 
What is a promise of God that you have clung to during a difficult experience? Talk more about it.
 
2013 was a difficult year. In January our son was born, which was a joyful event for sure, but also attended by the usual challenging adjustments of life that are part of becoming first-time parents. The cold and darkness that winter, the lack of sleep, and the changes to schedules – all took their toll on Karen and I.
 
In late May, just as we were starting to feel we were finally getting our feet under us again, I was diagnosed with testicular cancer. Suddenly, from doctor’s appointment to ultrasound to biopsy to surgery to tests to chemotherapy, I was whirled in a matter of days from the world of a new parent into the world of a cancer patient. Starting in June that year and stretching on through the summer I went in every three weeks for my rounds of chemo. I remember being slowly depleted by the drugs, facing each round a little weaker, and only trusting and hoping the cancer was weaker too.
 
The whole experience was physically demanding (the regimen for testicular cancer is particularly hard because the disease typically strikes younger men who are otherwise strong and healthy), but even more difficult was the emotional and spiritual strain. It was very hard to be so drained of energy just as my wife needed my help to care for our baby. It was tough to be unavailable as a pastor just when people wanted services conducted, reports made, pastoral visits done, and weddings celebrated. These things were difficult because it was so important to me to be someone who helped others, and chemotherapy stopped all that.
 
With testicular cancer the doctors were confident from the beginning that they could cure the disease. So questions and fears around mortality weren’t prominent for me at the time. Instead, because of the incapacity, I asked myself: Who am I, if I can’t perform the way I want to or think I should? What is my value or worth if I can’t do the things that I thought were valuable and worthwhile? I suffered more from self-doubt and loss of self-esteem than from fatigue or physical depletion.
 
It was during this time that the scriptural promise that meant so much to Martin Luther also came alive for me. For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God—not the result of works, so that no one may boast.
 
Reading this promise as if for the first time, I realized how much I had been staking my worth on my works – as a husband, new father, and pastor. My success and my accomplishments in these areas were how I measured my worth. But here was God promising me that I was worthwhile and valuable just because God says so. I was saved (healed, made whole, deemed worthy) purely by God’s grace.
 
Realizing this promise was for me in the middle of my struggle for identity and worth in the aftermath of cancer was like taking a deep breath of cool, fresh air. I’ve tried to keep breathing this air of grace ever since.