In his own words.

Posted on January 4, 2011 by Margaret

While filing a document recently, my eye caught the corner of a paper with Nate’s writing on it. Naturally I pulled it from the file drawer to take a closer look.

It was a letter written by Nate to Nelson in 1996. The five page synopsis of his career is remarkably candid, touching on the business highs and lows of recent decades. Although Nate had never shared his personal financial data with his children or anyone else, on this occasion he laid everything out in full.

Nelson remembers receiving the original letter and being surprised at how much his father candidly shared. Nate wrote about a tortured period in his life, crediting an unbalanced love of money as the reason for his struggle, mentioning a bitterness that took root at that time.

Most men shy away from honest sharing, and Nate, too, had trouble being frank with peers. Below are parts of his letter (with Nelson’s permission). I share it because of its unusual openness and because I know if Nate came back to town with the heavenly perspective he now has, he’d eagerly tell these things to whoever would listen.

Although I won’t share the details he asked Nelson to “keep confidential,” here’s some of what he wrote:

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Nelson,

The text I constantly think of when I consider the role of the Christian man in American society is Hebrews 12:1 – “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud if witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.”

Actually the entire 12^th chapter of Hebrews is encouragement to live a godly, Christ-centered life in the world – a world of persecution, boredom, temptation, indifference, ridicule, ease, sloth and human needs. “Run the race marked out for us.”

In other words, God’s chosen path for us, not ours. We don’t always get our first choice in the things of this world – sometimes we think we would have chosen a different body, mind, era, parents, generally different circumstances. But Christ’s mission for Christian men is to live out in a godly way what He has selected for us. We are to do so in a way that honors Him. We are to live as an example of Christ to our families, churches and coworkers.

The man who knows Christ wants to live for Him, but as imperfect humans, we fall short. Sometimes we fail because of worldly success and at other times because of failure.

In my life I went through a period of intense striving for money and the recognition it brings in the U.S.A. [Here Nate detailed his finances and how well he was doing at earning.] Then my partner had a stroke. One year later, the Congress passed the Tax Reform Act of 1986. This law reduced the net revenue of my company by $1,000,000 a year, and by 1989 bankrupted me.

I was unhappy when I had money, because I always wanted more. When I lost it, I wanted it back. I was unhappy and became bitter.

[To be continued, two days hence…]

“Whoever loves money never has enough; whoever loves wealth is never satisfied with their income.” (Ecclesiastes 5:10)

Up to Down

Posted on January 3, 2011 by Margaret

The girls and I went through a Jerry Seinfeld stage several years back, guffawing at his stand-up comedy and the DVDs of his shows. One of the jokes stuck with me, a clever commentary on children and parents:

When you’re little, your life is up. The future is up. Everything you want is up.

“Wait up! Hold up! Shut up! Mom, I’ll clean up! Just let me stay…up!”

Parents, of course, are just the opposite. Everything is down.

“Just calm down. Slow down. Come down here. Sit down. Put that… down!”

I would add one more “up” from a child’s point of view. “Everything I want to get my hands on is… up!”

Before my five grandchildren arrived in December, I babyproofed the house. But short of emptying rooms, I couldn’t hit 100%. I removed breakables and swallowable objects in every room from three feet and down but still heard, “What’s Evelyn chewing on? What’s Micah putting in his mouth?” We’ve removed barrettes, pieces of plastic, tiny bits of broken toys and blobs of sopped paper.

As the days passed, our toddlers became experts at extending their reach higher and higher. Not even the kitchen counters were a safe zone after they discovered a couple of plastic stools. Now the only out-of-reach spots are the mantle and the tops of bookcases, hutches and the refrigerator.

Car keys, cell phones, ipods, DVDs, candles, phone chargers and other valuables have been heaped high in places we can barely reach. To the adults, it’s a slight inconvenience. To the children, it’s intense frustration. Their days are spent looking… up… and scheming ways to retrieve what looks so appealing from down-low.

The problem comes in having cross purposes. Our little ones judge themselves perfectly capable of properly handling the breakables while we know the truth, that their touch means death to valuables. Interestingly, when we provide substitutes, (toy phones or blank keys), they quickly learn the ploy and toss them aside.

Little children are to us what we are to God. When we look to him, it’s always “up”. He’s higher than we are in all categories, and his decisions to keep certain things out of our reach are always for our good. Just as our kids can’t understand why so many things have to be put up, we get frustrated when God doesn’t rescue us quickly or answer prayer our way.

Unlike toddlers who whine and reach up indefinitely, I ought to acquiesce quickly and be willing to let the up’s stay up. Because when I’m gazing up with cravings, I’m missing what’s already come down from God, most significantly, Jesus himself. And one day he’ll come down again, triumphing over every evil.

When the battles are over, a new heaven and earth will also come down. And when that happens, even the frsutrated toddlers will finally have everything they ever wanted.

“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights.” (James 1:17)

Signature in Stone

Posted on January 2, 2011 by Margaret

I’m about to sign a sheet of 8½ x 11 paper with strange words on it: incised, polished, beveled, sawn, washed, sandblasted. It’s a verbal description of Nate’s cemetery headstone.

Although he died 14 months ago, we weren’t able to focus on a grave marker until the one year anniversary. When we visited the cemetery then, suddenly it seemed imperative to order a headstone. As Nelson said, the one scriptural reference to an unmarked grave is negative: “Woe to you! For you are like unmarked graves, and people walk over them without knowing it.” (Luke 11:44)

As we stood at the foot of Nate’s grave, memories washed over us, and though it’s difficult to design a headstone, we all wanted to get it done. After discussing the possibilities with cemetery personnel then revisiting the site, we went home and put pen to paper.

Our M.O. was to join Nate’s grave to the six family plots adjacent to his. My paternal grandfather, who died ten years before I was born, was the purchaser of the original plot when his family unexpectedly needed a grave. Their little William was only 20 months old when he died of pneumonia, an illness cured by antibiotics today. His name is third-down on the stone, a strong declaration by his parents that he should have died after both of them.

William’s funeral took place at Rosehill Cemetery on a snowy December day, surely the saddest event in this young family’s history. My father, William’s oldest sibling, was 12 at the time, old enough to remember the tiny casket and his parents’ anguish. William’s father arranged to have a photograph taken of their deceased toddler before his burial, the only picture of the son they knew so briefly.

But this family’s story further saddens. The second name carved on the Johnson headstone is William’s mother, who died of TB 15 months after her baby, leaving a widower with three children. These courageous people are a group we want to publically be connected to by designing our nearby stone in similar fashion.

This week the cemetery envelope arrived in my mailbox. Knowing it contained a sketch of our stone, I waited to open it until I could put the visual into my head. Would it be difficult to look at it? Would it be a shock to see my own name there also? Would we be satisfied with our design?

Yes to all of that, difficult, shocking, but also satisfying. We made only one addition, a phrase of Scripture beneath the names as a testimony to the important role Jesus Christ played in the lives of those buried there.

After the headstone has been installed, I’ll eagerly look for the opportunity to rest my hand on its polished granite, look at my children and say (just as my folks said), “Someday you’ll bury me here, too. But remember, it’ll be a good day, because I’ll be with Jesus.” I’ll point to the letters carved in stone that are from their father’s favorite Scripture, reminding them to keep their eyes fixed on Jesus.

After all, that’s the best possible guidance for any heartbroken person seated in a cemetery in front of a descending casket.

“Let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus…” (Hebrews 12:1b-2a)