joy

Thankful in 2020?

Thankful in 2020?

Who will be joining you at your Thanksgiving table this year? If you are like most people, it will be a much smaller gathering than you are accustomed to. There will be some measure of grief as you pull fewer chairs up to the table and slice into that smaller turkey.

There are lots of reasons to be discouraged in 2020. Businesses closed, some had paychecks replaced with unemployment checks, most have had a friend or family member battle COVID-19, and some have lost loved ones this year. Churches haven’t been able to gather together in person for worship for chunks of the year, and division over masks and politics has threatened the church’s unity.

May I invite James to one of the open seats at your Thanksgiving table? Let me warn you, though, James is the uncle who shoots straight. You might not like what he has to say. But you know he always speaks out of love.

Sitting with icy beverages in hand, complaints start dripping like the oil off the bird in the oven. Your dad grouses about politics, your grandfather expresses concern over financial instability, your sister goes off on anti-maskers, you voice your irritation with your boss, and your mom shares her annoyance about decisions at your church. James listens, sips his cranberry punch, and then quietly interjects, “Count it all joy, my [family], when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness” (James 1:2).

Sheesh, Uncle Jimmy, can’t you show a little sympathy to a family struggling through a challenging year?

The Unexpected Gift (part 2) by Anne Madhu Gammon

The Unexpected Gift (part 2) by Anne Madhu Gammon

A note from John:

It’s my pleasure to share with you the story of my friend, Madhu Gammon. Madhu and her husband Keith attend Stone Hill Church in Princeton, NJ, where I served as a pastor for eight years. Madhu and Keith’s story centers around how God stretched their faith and joy in the midst of the difficulties of their son Ajit’s medical issues.

In God’s providence, Angel and I are, right now, in the home state of Madhu and Keith: Tamil Nadu, India.

I pray that you are as blessed by Madhu’s humble faith and irrepressible joy as I have been.

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Unexpected turn of Events

We had come on holiday to the USA in 2001 to see Priya. With less than a month left to return to India, a consultation for Ajit gave him a new anti-seizure medication in addition to his regular medication. This juncture is where everything turned topsy-turvy with a severe drug reaction. He was too weak to get out of bed, grew weaker, unable to tolerate food, and subsequently compelling us to change our return date to India. The scene had changed. It was staggering! And at this time, Keith’s mother had just breathed her last in Chennai and he had to return immediately.

When we come to the crossroads, we can often miss seeing the Cross. The words drawing us to “see, from his head, his hands, his feet, sorrow and love flow mingled down, did ‘er such love or sorrow meet or thorns compose so rich a crown.” Oh were it not for the Cross, we would not know that God understands the pain of suffering. Yet to now try and understand the Sovereignty of God and see Him articulate His Grace to us was to expect a miracle, a gesture of forgiveness and freedom.

The Unexpected Gift (part 1) by Anne Madhu Gammon

The Unexpected Gift (part 1) by Anne Madhu Gammon

A note from John:

It’s my pleasure to share with you the story of my friend, Madhu Gammon. Madhu and her husband Keith attend Stone Hill Church in Princeton, NJ, where I served as a pastor for eight years. Madhu and Keith’s story centers around how God stretched their faith and joy in the midst of the difficulties of their son Ajit’s medical issues.

In God’s providence, Angel and I are, right now, in the home state of Madhu and Keith: Tamil Nadu, India.

I pray that you are blessed by Madhu’s humble faith and irrepressible joy as I have been.

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Setting out with a bag and an umbrella is perfect for a walk in the park. We finally got there. It was an unexpected wait to get through the checkpoints. The Waiting Room was abuzz with swiftly changing scenes as we moved from the corridor to the elevator. The sounds of trolleys with their squeaky wheels rolling by were not particularly musical. It was the easiest thing to misunderstand the unrealistic questionnaire in the dim lit room, the questions like a frisbee whizzed all around me. Frankly speaking, what does it feel like to be faced with an unexpected diagnosis, ‘the baby has an increase in head circumference’?

We had started a journey into the world of unknowns! What is normal after all? “Normal is an illusion. What is normal to the spider is chaos to the fly.” The world of disability is a deep dark pit of foggy impressions until it comes to you and you are still in a fog.

A Culture of Victimhood

A Culture of Victimhood

As a boy I was fascinated with pain. I often wondered how the pain I felt compared to pain others felt. I mostly kept this to myself, but I remember at least on one occasion getting into an argument with friends about who had experienced the most pain.

We all shared our stories: fractured limbs, concussions, road rash, and a hernia (that was my trump card). As each story concluded the storyteller would lean back, content with his sharing of the story expecting arms to be raised in defeat. But, in fact, each of us was disappointed with the reception of our tales of woe as the next storyteller would jump in, one-upping the last teller’s story of pain with his own.

I look back with embarrassment at the immaturity and narcissism this pain one-upmanship revealed in me. And yet, is the behavior of so many today any better?