Books, PersonalOctober 16, 2009 7:03 am

Here it is late Pentecost and I’ve made little progress. Ah, well.

Recently finished…
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, J.K. Rowling. Fun. I’m told they get even better. Can’t wait.
Hell on Trial: The Case for Eternal Punishment, Robert Peterson. I read this for my cyber-column. An adequate treatment of an awful subject. I’ll be writing on that subject soon. Interestingly, thinking about this has helped me see the intimate connections between the doctrine of divine wrath and the Problem of Evil (a subject I just finished writing about over at Examiner).

Reading…
Letters of Francis Schaeffer, ed. Lane Dennis.
Primeval Saints, James Jordan.
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, J.K. Rowling.

Happenings, Ecclesiology, Personal, WorshipOctober 12, 2009 3:16 pm

St. TrinityMany of you may know that my wife and I are going with a group from our church, Providence Reformed Presbyterian, to plant a new church in Carondelet, which is one of the older neighborhoods in the South of St. Louis City. Well, here is the building that we have just gotten confirmation we will be worshiping in. A 150-year-old Lutheran (LCMS) congregation has been extremely gracious to us and is sharing this sanctuary with us along with a parish building next to it. Please pray for our core group (we have 67 as of right now) as we prepare to move into this new location and begin worshiping and ministering as Resurrection Presbyterian Church.

PersonalAugust 14, 2009 6:19 pm

There is a gift that God gives
A love oh so rare
And the seed that he starts
Gives Hope none compare

And He gives through His gift
Life over again
Mother to Child
And grandmother again

In the deep dark of night
July of 09
A call came to me
Freezing my heart and mind

My gift from God
My daughter, my life
Carry her child
Both fighting for life

A Rush to her side
Fear deep in my heart
What is there to do
What is my part

My child dire afraid
For her life and her child
What can I impart
To ease fear that is wild

Waiting or not
Each hour a new plan
Excruciatingly, waiting
Pain not made for man

We go! It is now!
Please God! Save them please!
Waiting and then
God heard my pleas

Healing and planning
A miracle they say
Months in this place
We’ll come here each day

But another night call
Babe is not well it seems
Come now, right away
The dashing of dreams

To watch our own babe
with such little hope
Singing and praying
It’s so hard to cope

A Dad gives his blessing
Esther’s held in Mom’s arms
We’d all give our lives
To keep her from harm

But it’s not to be
His decisions been made
He took her from us
On the chest that she laid

Indescribable grief
Beyond all compare
There is no more hope
Not even a prayer

My grandaughter’s gone
My child’s child has died
All the things I believed
To me someone lied

How can I help her
My baby, my child
To cope with this grief
This pain that is wild

I try to infer
Just why this was meant
But there are no thoughts
To ease my lament

No control, no repair
For the things that have come
I cannot fix hearts
Or minds that are numb

The love in my heart
Not enough can there be
To fill the space
Where Esther should be

I am sorry my child
That you have to bear
This grief in your soul
Your heart with this tear

Please know that I love
You both all that I can
And my heart and my love
You have in your hands

Grieve together and love
The child you have lost
Hold fast to our hearts
They’re yours at all cost

PersonalAugust 5, 2009 2:45 am

If you don’t know our story I would advise you to read this first.

I’m only twenty-six,
married last October,
my wife pregnant in February
(it wasn’t an accident).

Life is supposed to be good now, right?
Start a family, begin a new thing, right?

I won’t forget that hospital visit,
or the next two weeks.
I won’t forget the tears in mother’s eyes,
or the cigarettes.

I won’t forget the ups and downs,
the might be’s and the possibilities.

I won’t forget the day they said ‘it’s time,’
or the white suit that I put on-
to see my baby cut and pressed upon
and my other baby saved from death’s dark plans.

I won’t forget the rush I felt,
when all was well
and doctors came to see,
the one who was a miracle.

I won’t forget those anxious hours,
when I could not but hope the best.

I won’t forget that call one night-
sweet Irish voice with such ill news.

I won’t forget that trip we made-
my dear wife’s second of the day;
the news was wicked and so quick:
‘come now your daughter is so sick.’

I won’t forget those dreadful hours, (or perhaps they were but minutes)
when one wonders who’s in charge.
I prayed and prayed and prayed-
but to be honest I screamed.

I won’t forget the ugliness of death’s creeping hand-
of numbers dropping and scowls on doctor’s faces.

I won’t forget the song we sang:
“Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so…”

I won’t forget the loss of hope,
when doctors said we could hold her-
or her heaving chest that told me
that life and prayers were still hers.

I won’t forget the moment I knew.
They called for a chaplain.
Are you Catholic or Lutheran or perhaps something else?
As if it mattered.

I won’t forget wondering when a minister might come,
so as I stood watching my precious girl die,
I asked for some water and brought her salvation:
“Esther Elise Donathan, I baptize you in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

I won’t forget the prayers we prayed
or the blessing that we spoke:
“The LORD bless you and keep you,
The LORD make his face shine upon you and be gracious to you,
The LORD lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace.”

I won’t forget the following moments.
I held my daughter and kissed her forehead so softly.
I let my wife hold our dear baby,
and watched as she held her till life left her quietly.

I won’t forget the tears and the sorrow
my screams in that room,
“This isn’t supposed to happen!”
“Babies aren’t supposed to die!”

I won’t forget taking my daughter from my wife’s arms-
Impossibly dead with so much life before her.

I won’t forget the gasps that I heard
As I bobbled her head, as I laid down her body.
She deserved more dignity than I ever could give her.
I’ll never forget the pain that I felt.

Come quickly Lord Jesus, Come quickly.

Theology, PersonalJuly 26, 2009 7:20 pm

In my meditation on the loss of my daughter I referred to her death as “senseless.” It occurred to me at the time that while no one would likely say anything given the personal nature of what I was writing about, many reformed Christians might take issue with such a statement, thinking that it somehow impinged on the view that God is sovereign. I disagree. There are things in this world that are senseless. That is not to say meaningless (in the ultimate sense), for surely the death of my daughter has profound meaning, but it is nevertheless senseless.

The reason I believe this is the case is because my daughter’s death was evil. In fact death itself is evil. God uses death; it is the curse on mankind for sin and indeed at times it is meted out as judgment. Nevertheless, death, particularly the death of persons (who are made in the image of God) is evil. This is a profound mystery. Somehow God allows death, and even ordains the deaths of His saints while at the same time hating death and vowing to destroy it.

But to return to the point, death, as a manifestation of evil is senseless. My dictionary defines senseless as a) “without discernible meaning or purpose” and b) “lacking common sense; wildly foolish.” Both of these apply in a limited sense to the death of my daughter. There is no discernible purpose for her death. It does little good to point out that God has a reason. I’m sure He does but it is one of the secret things that belong to Him. I am a man and I am called to think as a man. That means that I am not expected to sit back and coolly reflect on my daughter’s death as an event that has a purpose (though indiscernible to me). Rather, I am to experience it in all the fullness of what it means to be human. Jesus did not reflectively quip from the cross, “Father, I know that all things have a purpose in your sovereign plan.” He screamed, “Father, Why have you forsaken me?”

Further, to take up the second definition, “lacking common sense; wildly foolish,” I find that this fits as well. What is more foolish than evil. If we balk at this perhaps it betrays a tacit belief that God is the author of evil, or at least some evil (like natural catastrophes or the death of infants, that are clearly not the fault of a particular person or persons) inasmuch as we view calling these things foolish as an implicit criticism of God. But God agrees that death is wildly foolish. It is the foolish evil that results from foolishness and one day God will expose it for the foolishness that it is when he destroys it along with pain and suffering and wickedness. Further, the death of a newborn saint surely lacks common sense. Common sense, which is part of the image of God–our common ability to judge what is fitting and appropriate in any given situation–tells us that babies are not supposed to die in their mothers’ arms. Common sense tells us that we are meant for life and fellowship and relationship with God. This is why it is the fool who says in his heart, ‘There is no God.’

So this is why the death of my daughter and so many tragedies like it are senseless. First, because we are humans and we are called to assess things from a human standpoint (using the wisdom and insight God has provided in His word to be sure), and from a human standpoint there is no discernible purpose or reason that I watched my daughter die. And second, because it was a result of the foolishness of evil that turns all things on their heads and rejects what is sensible favoring senseless opposition to God and all that is good. Were it not for evil and its intrusion into God’s good creation, my daughter would be with me right now and we would be in the presence of God himself.

Finally, I found some help in thinking through this in Chris Wright’s recent book The God I Don’t Understand which I think is worth quoting at length:

Evil Makes “No Sense”

It is a fundamental human drive to understand things. The creation narrative shows that we have been put into our created environment to master and subdue it, which implies gaining understanding of it. To be human is to be charged with ruling creation, and that demands ever-growing breadth and depth of understanding the created reality that surrounds us. The simple picture in Genesis 2 of the primal human naming of the rest of the animals is an indication of this exercise of rational recognition and classification. Our rationality is in itself a dimension of being made in the image of God. We were created to think! We just have to investigate, understand explain; it is a quintessentially human trait that manifests itself from our earliest months of life.

So then to understand things means to integrate them into their proper place in the universe, to provide a justified, legitimate, and truthful place within creation for everthing we encounter. We instinctively seek to establish order, to make sense, to find reasons and purposes, to validate things and thus explain them. As human beings made in God’s image for this very purpose, we have an innate drive, an insatiable desire, and an almost infinite ability to organize and order the world in the process of understanding it.

Thus, true to form, when we encounter this phenomenon of evil, we struggle to apply to it all the rational skill– philosophical, practical, and problem-solving–that we so profusely and successfully deploy on everything else. We are driven to try to understand and explain evil. But it doesn’t work. Why not?

God with his infinite perspective, and for reasons known only to himself, knows that we finite human beings cannot, indeed must not, “make sense” of evil. For the final truth is that evil does not make sense. “Sense” is part of our rationality that in itself is part of God’s good creation and God’s image in us. So evil can have no sense, since sense itself is a good thing.

Evil has no proper place within creation. It has no validity, no truth, no integrity. It does not intrinsically belong to the creation as God originally made it nor will it belong to creation as God will ultimately redeem it. It cannot and must not be integrated into the universe as a rational, legitimated, justified part of reality. Evil is not there to be understood, but to be resisted and ultimately expelled. Evil was and remains an intruder, an alien presence that has made itself almost (but not finally) inextricably “at home.” Evil is beyond our understanding because it is not part of the ultimate reality that God in his perfect wisdom and utter truthfulness intends us to understand. So God has withheld its secrets from his own revelation and our research.

Personally, I have come to accept this as a providentially good thing. Indeed, as I have wrestled with this thought about evil, it brings a certain degree of relief. And I think it carries the implication that whenever we are confronted with something utterly and dreadfully evil, appallingly wicked, or just plain tragic, we should resist the temptation that is wrapped up in the cry, “Where’s the sense in that?” It’s not that we getno answer. We get silence. And that silence is the answer to our question. There is no sense. And that is a good thing too.

Can I understand that ?

No.

Do I want to understand that?

Probably not, if God has decided it is better that I don’t.

So I am willing to live with the understanding that the God I don’t understand has chosen not to explain the origin of evil, but rather wants to concentrate my attention on what he has done to defeat and destroy it.

Now this may seem a lame response to evil. Are we merely to gag our desperate questions, accept that it’s a mystery, and shut up? Surely we do far more than that? Yes indeed.

We grieve.

We weep.

We lament.

We protest.

We scream in pain and anger.

We cry out, “How long must this kind of thing go on?”

And that brings us to our second major biblical response. For when we do such things, the Bible says to us, “That’s OK. Go right ahead. And here are some words that you may like to use when you feel that way.” But for that, we must turn to our next chapter.

PersonalJuly 18, 2009 7:59 pm

Baby Girl Our beautiful baby girl, Esther Elise Donathan: Born July 9, 2009 - Died July 11, 2009.


Although this is just a blog, and thus a seemingly odd place to talk about the most painful experience of my wife and I’s lives, it is also impossible to think of continuing on sharing the less significant tidbits we find interesting, outrageous or hilarious with those of you who read without mentioning it.

Three weeks ago my wife went into the hospital with suspected preeclampsia. Within a few hours she was being taken by ambulance to another hospital because we were told that the hospital she was at could not care for babies born at under 30 weeks.

From that point on all was a whirlwind. Family began descending from around the country as we waited for days in hopes that the doctors could keep Alicia healthy enough to let our daughter stay within her womb and grow just a little longer. Esther was only 25 weeks along. We went through ultrasounds and visits with pediatricians that were gut wrenching. It is their job to save babies, but it is also their job to talk to parents about what might be. Alicia experienced blood draws that seemed constant and bed-rest that was absolute. Finally one morning they told us that it couldn’t wait any longer. The baby had to be delivered. We cried and prayed alone, together, and with our families.

However, later that day Esther was delivered and all signs were good. She weighed only a little over a pound but nothing the doctors had warned might go wrong in delivery or resuscitation did. For a day and a half our baby girl seemed to be defying all odds. One of the nurses in the NICU even told me they were calling her their miracle baby. The pediatrician who delivered her had confided to me that she was the smallest baby she had ever successfully resuscitated. However, shortly before midnight Friday night, just hours after I had wheeled Alicia over to see her healthy and odds-defying daughter for the first time, the pediatrician who had resuscitated her called me and told me that we needed to come to the NICU quickly. We did, and I cannot begin to describe, nor would I want to, most of the events of the next few moments or hours or whatever it was.

However, I will say that we got to spend our daughter’s last few moments with her, singing and praying with her, and that because there was no minister available I baptized my baby girl shortly before she died.

We have grieved and cried and been numb multiple times and in various orders. We have been surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses from our church, our families and from those all around the country who have lent their encouragement, their prayers and their shoulders. We laid Esther’s body to rest on Tuesday July 14th. The funeral was difficult but cathartic in many ways. My friend and pastor, Reverend Joshua Anderson preached a sermon that I desperately needed to hear. He affirmed that we do not make peace with death but join Christ in warring against it, even as he pointed us toward the sure hope of Resurrection and the possibility of peace in this life again.

I have nothing profound to say. I am angry at times- angry at the senselessness of the death of my beautiful baby girl. I am thankful at times. Thankful that I was able to spend moments with my daughter and see her marked with the seal of God’s children and that Alicia and I had been reading the book of Job together for the past few weeks - seemingly (in hindsight) in preparation for what was ordained to befall us. Often I’m confused, not knowing what to think or if I can really feel. I imagine that I will feel and think these and many more emotions and thoughts, sometimes knotted together in something indiscernible, for a long time. In all this I have found myself forced to a defiant insistence on hope- hope in the Resurrection, hope in the goodness and wisdom of God, hope that all things will someday be put to rights, even though for me that seems a much more distant goal right now than it ever has before.

Just for Fun, PersonalJune 20, 2009 5:01 pm

I was playing with our new camera.

Life is Good.


Continue Reading…

Happenings, PersonalJune 16, 2009 9:35 pm

Cooking, Personal 8:09 pm

Nacho Mama's Nachos

I was kind of busy and a bit distracted. A few minutes later she presented me with this. My wife is amazing! (I told her that in future if there was any question, I always want nachos!)

Just for Fun, Humor, PersonalJune 6, 2009 9:51 pm