Love Brings Peace

This is the second week of Advent, with the topic of Peace, following the week of Hope. The nexus of these two topics is the first anniversary of the San Bernardino terrorist attack. Friday marked the first anniversary of our community changing forever. I have three prior posts related to it: The week after, related to a sermon, and around the six month mark.

I find meaning in the anniversary occurring between Hope and Peace. And our pastor's sermon this week was quite relevant.

Some of us spoke in Sunday school about how San Bernardino, when known, wasn't known very positively. A terrorist attack doesn't put it on the map of positivity any more. However, I'm so proud of how our community has responded. It should be put on the map for its response to tragedy and trauma, beginning minutes after horror. While there were minutes of horror, there have been hours, days, weeks, months, and building toward years of love, compassion, encouragement, and unity.

I'm particularly proud of two organizations I'm a part of.

My county family has risen to the occasion to respond not only to our general community, but our Public Health family, as well as to ourselves. I still lead a team of liaisons serving survivors, and my liaisons are still available 7 days a week. They've made over 3,000 contacts this year (and this is to only one group). There isn't a day that goes by that we don't think about or do something to help support our community's recovery.

My church has quietly but actively engaged, as well. Members helped clean up scraps left by the FBI that were used in bomb making. Imagine the difficulty of having that left. Our interim pastor prayed with the family of the shooters. He and other members partnered with other places of worship for interfaith strength.

These are just some of the stories of true community strength, but you likely won't hear them in any media. What brings tears to my eyes is the active acts of love that exist without fanfare or recognition, but fundamentally transform lives.

Light in the Darkness

Today marks a celebration of St. John of the Cross, author of The Dark Night of the Soul.

The last week and a half has been filled with darkness. In fact, it's fair to say the December 2 San Bernardino shooting has consumed my life since it happened.

Many of you know that my office is a half mile from the site of the shooting. Both the Inland Regional Center and Public Health are close partners. I know many Public Health employees and have referred many families to the IRC. Our building was on lockdown, and there were thoughts during the lockdown that county facilities and behavioral health sites were being targeted. The shooters' home is a few blocks from our church. Several people I work closely with lost family and friends. My department is on the front lines of crisis response, and I'm currently managing a large team working with survivors.

While the news overall has been dying down, our work has not slowed. Recovery and healing for our community will continue for weeks, months, years. And in the midst of it, the remaining press has engaged in some disgusting behavior, lying to intrude into people's personal pain and coping.

And yet the light shines.

While there have been responses of fear turned to hate, there have been far more responses of fear turned to love.

People of all walks of life have banded together to build each other up.

Dozens, if not hundreds, of county staff have volunteered to step up and do extra work to help, including 24/7 support, like those amazing people on my team.

Supportive texts, calls, Facebook posts, etc. keep us moving forward and feeling supported.

And don't forget the prayers.

Then there's parts of regular, daily life that shows me God is present and caring for me.

Our healthcare provider gave us a beautiful specialty blanket with our newborn's name embroidered on it. What healthcare provider does that?!

Our primary car (the only one that will fit the carseats) had a leak, so I took it into our shop. It was a problem that we fixed two years ago, but was now out of warranty and was going to cost around $3500 (can't afford this and was close to the cost of the car). A half hour later, the manager called me and said he pulled some strings and got it covered under warranty. No cost. And because I dropped the car off and rode my bike to work, but it was now dark and raining, the manager sent one of his employees to pick me up. I never even considered not riding to the shop. He thought of it and offered.

My toddler is obsessed with trains. We got to have some "normal" time and built a train together at a Lowe's kids clinic. He hasn't stopped talking about how we hammered together and made "our train." He's carrying it everywhere. And then last night, he said, "You're a great friend. You're a great dad."

Yes, God is present here. There is light in the darkness, and it's even more meaningful because of the darkness and will eventually overpower the darkness completely.

The Glorious Fog @EdwardDobson @christianaudio @caReviewers

Every month during my year-long predoctoral internship, I spent a day with patients diagnosed with or being assessed for ALS. This is a tragic disease that killed baseball great Lou Gehrig and gave renowned physicist Stephen Hawking his electronic voice. This disease not only affects the individual, but also the families. Often the families were more deeply impacted by the losses than the actual patient.

A common thread among the patients and families was that they were forced to address existential questions. During our support group including both patients and family members, it was not unusual to get questions and comments related to faith, the goodness of God (or lack thereof), and the process, hope, and promise of healing.

ALS can be a great equalizer of people. We saw all races and socioeconomic statuses. Both genders were well represented. While it tends to hit people in the second half of their life, we had a good representation of the under 40 crowd. We occasionally got someone under 20. And the process of ALS is different for each person. Some die within months of diagnosis. Others, like Hawking, can live for decades.

Medically-speaking, there is virtually no explanation for the etiology or the reason for continued degradation of the body. There was one lady whose hands were essentially paralyzed. She explained she and her congregation prayed hard and the ALS stopped partway up her arms and has been stable for years. Others have just as much prayer, and the disease seems to move faster.

This can impact one's faith in so many ways, as anyone can imagine. So when I saw Ed Dobson's book, Seeing Through the Fog, exploring, in part, his journey with ALS, I was intrigued. I was even more interested in hearing reflections from this pastor who worked closely with Jerry Falwell and yet voted for Obama.

What I particularly appreciated about Dobson's work is his complete honesty. Emotionally, cognitively, and spiritually, he discussed the journey of his life pre- and post-ALS.

Ultimately, this is not a book about ALS, although I can be very helpful for those suffering with ALS and their loved ones. It's also not a book presenting a formula for how to deal with challenges in life. Rather, he beautifully explores how to see God in the midst of the mundane parts of life. And find joy in those moments, growing ever closer to Christ in the process.

It seems that ALS really helped Dobson particularly see the complexities of life and find the joy in the nuances. He does not minimize the challenges of the fog that so many of us face in different ways, but he also reflects on the beauty of God's incarnational love that takes us through that fog. There were many times I left the support group I was co-leading wanting to cry. Not out of sadness, but because of the beauty of the deep, sacrificial love these families display. Like so many tragedies, ALS can destroy a family, or it can bring them together more powerfully than ever, gloriously shining the love of Christ for everyone to see.

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”