Because He...

Because He emptied Himself of all but love, you can be filled.
Because His body was broken, your life can be whole.
Because His blood was shed, your sin can be forgiven.
Because He submitted to injustice, you can forgive.
Because He finished His Father’s work, your life has worth.
Because He was forsaken, you will never be alone.
Because He was buried, you can be raised.
Because He lives, you don’t have to be afraid.
Because He reached down to you, you don’t have to work your way up to Him.
Because His promises are always true, you can have hope!

Anne Graham Lotz

What Good Friday Means: A Parable

A young girl grows up on a cherry orchard just above Traverse City, Michigan. Her parents, a bit old-fashioned, tend to overreact to her nose ring, the music she listens to, and the length of her skirts. They ground her a few times, and she seethes inside. “I hate you!” she screams at her father when he knocks on the door of her room after an argument, and that night she acts on a plan she has mentally rehearsed scores of times. She runs away.

She has visited Detroit only once before, on a bus trip with her church youth group to watch the Tigers play. Because newspapers in Traverse City report in lurid detail the gangs, the drugs, and the violence in downtown Detroit, she concludes that is probably the last place her parents will look for her. California, maybe, or Florida, but not Detroit.

Her second day there she meets a man who drives the biggest car she’s ever seen. He offers her a ride, buys her lunch, arranges a place for her to stay. He gives her some pills that make her feel better than she’s ever felt before. She was right all along, she decides: her parents were keeping her from all the fun.

The good life continues for a month, two months, a year. The man with the big car—she calls him “Boss”—teaches her a few things that men like. Since she’s underage, men pay a premium for her. She lives in a penthouse, and orders room service whenever she wants. Occasionally she thinks about the folks back home, but their lives now seem so boring and provincial that she can hardly believe she grew up there.

She has a brief scare when she sees her picture printed on the back of a milk carton with the headline “Have you seen this child?” But by now she has blond hair, and with all the makeup and body-piercing jewelry she wears, nobody would mistake her for a child. Besides, most of her friends are runaways, and nobody squeals in Detroit.

After a year, the first sallow signs of illness appear, and it amazes her how fast the boss turns mean. “These days, we can’t mess around,” he growls, and before she knows it she’s out on the street without a penny to her name. She still turns a couple of tricks a night, but they don’t pay much, and all the money goes to support her habit. When winter blows in she finds herself sleeping on metal grates outside the big department stores. “Sleeping” is the wrong word—a teenage girl at night in downtown Detroit can never relax her guard. Dark bands circle her eyes. Her cough worsens.

One night as she lies awake listening for footsteps, all of a sudden everything about her life looks different. She no longer feels like a woman of the world. She feels like a little girl, lost in a cold and frightening city. She begins to whimper. Her pockets are empty and she’s hungry. She needs a fix. She pulls her legs tight underneath her and shivers under the newspapers she’s piled atop her coat. Something jolts a synapse of memory and a single image fills her mind: of May in Traverse City, when a million cherry trees bloom at once, with her golden retriever dashing through the rows and rows of blossomy trees in chase of a tennis ball.

God, ,why did I leave, she says to herself, and pain stabs at her heart. My dog back home eats better than I do now. She’s sobbing, and she knows in a flash that more than anything else in the world she wants to go home.

Three straight phone calls, three straight connections with the answering machine. She hangs up without leaving a message the first two times, but the third time she says, “Dad, Mom, it’s me. I was wondering about maybe coming home. I’m catching a bus up your way, and it’ll get there about midnight tomorrow. If you’re not there, well, I guess I’ll just stay on the bus until it hits Canada.”

It takes about seven hours for a bus to make all the stops between Detroit and Traverse City, and during that time she realizes the flaws in her plan. What if her parents are out of town and miss the message? Shouldn’t she have waited another day or so until she could talk to them? And even if they are home, they probably wrote her off as dead long ago. She should have given them some time to overcome the shock.

Her thoughts bounce back and forth between those worries and the speech she is preparing for her father. “Dad, I’m so sorry. I know I was wrong. It’s not your fault; it’s all mine. Dad, can you forgive?” She says the words over and over, her throat tightening even as she rehearses them. She hasn’t apologized to anyone in years.

The bus has been driving with lights on since Bay City. Tiny snowflakes hit the pavement rubbed worn by thousands of tires, and the asphalt steams. She’s forgotten how dark it gets at night out here. A deer darts across the road and the bus swerves. Every so often, a billboard. A sign posting the mileage to Traverse City. Oh God.

When the bus finally rolls into the station, its air brakes hissing in protest, the driver announces in a crackly voice over the microphone, “Fifteen minutes, folks. That’s all we have here.” Fifteen minutes to decide her life. She checks herself in a compact mirror, smoothes her hair, and licks the lipstick off her teeth. She looks at the tobacco stains on her fingertips, and wonders if her parents will notice. If they’re there.

She walks into the terminal, not knowing what to expect. Not one of the thousand scenes that have played out in her mind prepares her for what she sees. There, in the concrete-walls-and-plastic-chairs bus terminal in Traverse City, Michigan, stands a group of forty brothers and sisters and great-aunts and uncles and cousins and a grandmother and great-grandmother to boot. They’re all wearing goofy party hats and blowing noise-makers, and taped across the entire wall of the terminal is a computer-generated banner that reads “Welcome Home!”

Out of the crowd of well-wishers breaks her dad. She stares out through the tears quivering in her eyes like hot mercury and begins the memorized, “Dad, I’m sorry. I know…”

He interrupts her. “Hush, child. We’ve got no time for that. No time for apologies. You’ll be late for the party. A banquet’s waiting for you at home.”

Philip Yancey, in What’s So Amazing About Grace? (story based on Luke 15:11-32)

See also Ephesians 2:1-10:
"You were...But God, being rich in mercy, because of His great love,..."

Skipping Friday

We Christians focus on Jesus' life up through roughly the cleansing of the temple, and also on his empty tomb. Both of which are *critical* to His incarnation & the reason for his coming. But to our shame, we minimize events beginning at the last supper & all of the "icky" stuff about crucifixion & abandonment & torture & "why have You forsaken me?" & such. Here's my challenge to myself based on this week; I welcome you joining me in it: spend some serious time pondering Mark 14 & 15. Toss in Isaiah 53 & Psalm 22. Then go to Romans 3. Then wind up at Ephesians 2: 1-10.

Some under-pondered & under-taught things that were vividly on display on that Friday:
--the wrath of God
--the justice of God
--the suffering of Christ, beginning in the Garden well before the crucifixion

Let's ponder them a bit, shall we?

God's wrath & God's justice. Imagine with me a god who does not hate sin & evil. Would such a god be worthy of worship? Nope.

Now ponder with me the God Who is There (to borrow Francis Schaeffer's wonderul description). We like to think of Him as a great big blob of Grandpa-like love...One who excuses everything with a wink and a "don't worry about it". Here's the irony of picturing God that way: on one level, it's true; on another, it's offensive; on yet another, it severely understates God's love.

The Grandpa-God image is true to a point. God's love is not hard for me to grasp, because I'm John Benton's grandson, and John Benton loved me intensely (as he did all of us grandkids!). He lavished time on us & took us to Goodson's store for peanuts & taught us how to crack pecans. I remember one time he killed a snake with his walking stick & his foot, just because one of his grandsons was (is) terribly afraid of snakes. He also took a *deep* satisfaction in watching us grow up to elementary school age & do what boys do. Papa had dreamed of having a bunch of grandsons before there were any of us; I'm grandson #4 of 7, with 3 granddaughters in the bunch as well.

But the Grandpa-God image actually is offensive when taken logically. The image requires a god who winks at & excuses evil. Not just little boys being little boys; willful evil. No justice required, & none expected in this life or in the next. 17 years ago right now, Rwandans were killing each other at a staggering rate (~10,000 per day...for 100 days in a row). The Grandpa-God would at best say "well, I don't like it, but...oh well..." The gas chambers & ovens @ Auschwitz? Excused. The killing fields of Pol Pot? Wink & a smile. Millions dying in Stalin's Gulag? Oh well...it happens...

Aren't you glad we serve a just God? I know I am...

Well, I am when His justice is aimed at "those people" (whoever those people are; clearly someone other than me). When I recall that He is *always* just--even with me!--I get very nervous very quickly.

Two of the most haunting verses in all of Scripture:

For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who by their unrighteousness suppress the truth...Romans 1:18

But because of your hard and impenitent heart you are storing up wrath for yourself on the day of wrath when God's righteous judgment will be revealed...Romans 2:5

Both of those haunt me. And drive me to devastating grief combined with unfathomable joy as I re-read about events of Good Friday.

The grief part is because God's justice requires Him to deal with sin. My sin. Which is great & deserves destruction.

The unfathomable joy part is from reminding myself from Scripture that He HAS dealt with my sin.

Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Philippians 2:5b-8

But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ...Ephesians 2:4-5

And that is both the horror and joy of Good Friday. Jesus drank the cup of God's righteous, just wrath fully & completely for all who are in Christ.

It. Is. Finished!

And that, ladies & gents, is what we meant by "amazing grace." I pray I never, ever get beyond the "But God" there in Ephesians 2:4-5 & the "made Himself nothing" part of Philippians 2:6.

One more thing:
Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.
Philippians 2:9-11

He Is Risen!
bb

The 10th Leper

On the way to Jerusalem he was passing along between Samaria and Galilee. And as he entered a village, he was met by ten lepers...

Wonder why they were hanging out together. Wonder why they came to meet Jesus.

As to the first, my hunch is that shared misery & despair is somehow slightly less miserable. Which, of course, is still true for us today.

As to the second, as lepers, it's quite likely that nobody ever was willing to be "met by 10 lepers." These people were expected to stay away from "regular" "healthy" people. In fact, they were expected to announce their presence from a distance with loud cries & bells & such. "Unclean!" At which point, the other people would steer clear.

...who stood at a distance and lifted up their voices, saying, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.”

Put yourself in their shoes. Do you hear the anguish in their cry? In their "standing at a distance"? Can you imagine?

When he saw them he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went they were cleansed.

A rather odd directive, huh? Show yourself to the priests? But what about the illness?? Turns out their biggest need was not to become disease-free after all. (Please re-read that sentence slowly.) Their. biggest. need. was. not. to. become. disease-free. after. all.

Neither was that my biggest need in 2005 (initial cancer diagnosis) & in 2008 (stage IV metastatic melanoma). To be sure, the need for physical healing was all up in my grill then. As it is now, as I face yet another cancer surgery in May. But it was NOT my biggest need, and is not now.

Inner-city Dallas-area pastor Tony Evans once said (paraphrased) "If a man's poor, that's bad. If a man's an addict, that's bad. If a man's hungry, that's bad...But if a man dies without Christ, you just hit him with a blow that he'll never recover from for all of eternity."

This is NOT to minimize the overpowering terrible darkness that is leprosy. (A set of skin diseases that, in that day, were deemed highly contagious & incurable.) There are still leper colonies today, including one over in LA. Of course, stage IV metastatic melanoma is also a dreadful, deadly skin disease that is pretty much considered incurable. One which brings a considerable amount of totally-understandable "Eww, gross!" reactions from folks. Which is why this morning's reading in Luke (note: originally written several weeks back) went straight to my heart... (Important clarification if anyone wonders: I was a believer in the saving grace of Jesus Christ long before I began walking the cancer road. Just so you know.)

Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice; and he fell on his face at Jesus' feet, giving him thanks. Now he was a Samaritan.

Note that Luke's account picks up with the lepers enroute to attend to their religious duties. Note also that attending to their religious duties was surely a command that seemed very bizarre & misplaced to them. But they were obedient anyway. (Pause to let this sink in & be applied...They. Were. Obedient. Anyway.) Are we, or does our obedience depend upon the "reasonableness" or "propriety" of the request? Yeah, I didn't like my answer either.

"One of them"...One. Out of ten. What did he do? Turned back to express his thanks. While praising God. (Pause again to let this one sink in & be applied too...)

One more thing: the one was a Samaritan. Which means he was not to be part of "polite society." He was to be considered an outcast. Basically, racism & cultural bias were deeply against him. And yet, (a) he did what was commanded, and (b) he alone was thankful.

Then Jesus answered, “Were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?”

Wonder where the rest—the "proper" people who were religiously observant & accepted by society—were...

...are.

And he said to him, “Rise and go your way; your faith has made you well.” (Bold & italic stuff throughout this post is taken from Luke 17:11-19)

Note that the outcast was commended for his faith. Note that he was told to rise & go his way. Note that all 10 were healed, but only one was commended for his faith. Note further that the 10 were healed before there was any evidence of #10's faith. (Well, except for their initial cries for mercy).

Am I the 10th leper?

Am I the one who turns back to say "Thank you, Jesus, for my healing!"? The one who is commended for great faith? The one who marvels for the rest of his days at his healing?

Or am I one of the 9? The regular, entitled, ungrateful crowd? Am I like so many who, upon receiving miraculous healing, react with something like "Finally! About dadburn time!" Who feel entitled to good health 24/7/365. (entitled based on what, I haven't a clue...) Who never really acknowledge Jehovah Shammah—The Lord Who Heals. Who never say 'Thanks."

Much to ponder in Luke 17.

Join me in pondering, won't you?

And please pray for this blogging leper to be the 10th one & not one of the 9.

Thanks!

bb

The May MDA Festivities (Schedule)

So, I just got the final sched of my upcoming MDA fund the week after graduation. Gonna be a busy week…*sigh*

Mon 5/16

8:45 – Blood collection

9:10 – Chest XRay

10:50 – Check in for CT Scan (translation: get IV attached)

11:20 – CT Scan of Chest

2:00 – Complete Pulmonary Function Test (translation: “Zero Fun, Sir!” Lots of breathing exercises & such)

(Aside: I can think of THOUSANDS of better ways to celebrate one’s birthday than doing all of this stuff! )

Tues 5/17

1:00 – Meet w/ Surgeon to get results of Monday’s tests (typically a short meeting that's very crucial to the process; this is the official "it's on" meeting)

2:30 – Check in @ Anesthesia Assessment Ctr

2:45 – Anesthesia Assessment (measurements, etc; usually not a biggie)

Wed 5/18

DO NOT GO ANYWHERE NEAR MDA; eat *lots* of good Tex/Mex & seafood; relax/hang out/etc. (OK, none of that’s on the official MDA schedule, but neither is anything else on that schedule. This is always one of the best days on the MDA surgery schedule. *laughing*)

Thurs 5/19

**Scalpel Time** (Dr. Mehran prefers to operate 1^st thing in the a.m. usually; my guess is that we’ll arrive @ 6 a.m.-ish)

THIS IS THE DAY TO PRAY MUCH FOR LISA!

My part is rather easy: just show up & get heavy drugs & go to lala land; SHE is the one who has to sit in the waiting room & watch the clock…m o v e…v e r y…s l o w l y while waiting for her name to be called.

I’ll probably be in the hospital for 2-3 days after (Lisa can stay in the room w/ me on her own tiny foldout bed). These days are basically a progressive un-plugging from various machines & monitors as I make progress. They are *not* the most restful couple of days. Especially not for Lisa. I, of course, will have the magic pain pump hooked up; thus, I'll be OK w/ the distractions. *smile*

Then we will likely stay in a hotel there for another day or two just to make sure all of my systems & wound-healing & such are functioning properly, & then head home. Lisa will have to do all of the driving on the way back, sadly for her. Plus, I’ll have to get out & walk for 10 minutes or so every hour to avoid clotting. Thus, the trip home will probably take 11 or more hours. On the plus side for her, the pain meds make for an entertaining blend of animated conversation + deep sleep with virtually no transition time between the two. Or so I’m told. ;-{)}

The preliminary word—NOT from the surgeon (important clarification!)—is that I’ll probably be more or less out of commission for 7-10 days after surgery. The further prelim word is that this will be much less involved than my last summer’s surgery, which required a couple of months to fully recover. I like the 7-10 day deal much better…J

One more reminder: My medical Dr. is very confident about this one; I’m told the surgeon is too. Therefore, we are too.

Thanks much for all your prayers & acts of service & ministry to us. MAYBE, this will be the last one & the C-word won’t come back, & I can release the prayer time to other causes besides my health situation. (In the mean time, we welcome your prayers!) Lisa & I are most humbled by & MOST grateful for you.

With love & hope,

Mike

2 Corinthians 4:6-8,16-18

Today's P.E.T. Scan News

The Bottom Line:
Good, but not great. 1 small spot (1.5 cm x 1.3 cm) on upper left chest wall. The spot is "easily accessible & easily resectable" which means, "easy for surgeon to get to & remove."

The Plan:
Thus, I'll be back out here mid-May-ish for yet another go-round w/ my old friend Dr. Mehran the surgeon. Will probably be in hospital a couple of days, w/ another 7-10 days of feeling sort of yucky. The expectation is that this surgery & recovery will be more intense than my 2 VATS surgeries in 08, but less intense than the "Adam's-Rib" surgery of last summer (which had a *long* recovery!).

(Seemingly-Trivial Professional aside: it seems I'm just not destined to become a CFA, as this will be the 3rd consecutive year that I'll be bowing out of CFA II because of either actual medical stuff or threatened medical stuff...*sigh*)

The Reaction:
Hmmm...multiple reactions.

1) Obviously not the news we wanted. But when one has metastatic melanoma, such news is never totally unexpected. (Your takeaway point: USE SUNSCREEN!! *smile*)

2) **VERY IMPORTANT--In fact, this is the *MOST* Important One** God is ABSOLUTELY just as good & just as glorious & just as loving & just as worthy of our praise & of our lives as He was after my last scan which was clean! This circumstance does NOT diminish His goodness in general nor toward Mike Madaris & family in particular. The scan result also does NOT diminish His love in general, nor toward me personally.

Behold, these are but the outskirts of his ways,
and how small a whisper do we hear of him!
But the thunder of his power who can understand?
Job 26:14

3) Dr. Homsi (my medical Oncologist) is very optimistic, as are we, as is the Dr. Mehran the surgeon. Just another bump in the road, Lord willing.

4) It's a reminder that all of us...Every. Single. Person....is, in the words of a dear friend, living in rented apartment space that's wearing out all around us.

5) I have no sense that the time of my departure is at hand. Nor do any of the Drs. involved. (The time of that departure is not ultimately in the hands of anyone @ M.D. Anderson, btw.)

6) A reminder of the importance of prayer.

7) Ditto theology.

8) Ditto praise.

Summing up, I'm convinced that I'm alive today because God providentially led me to MDA/Dr. Homsi/Dr. Hwu/Dr. Mehran. Lisa & I have total confidence in their skills (specifically in Dr. Mehran's as a surgeon @ the moment).

With all of that said, you're a praying type, Lisa & I would welcome your prayers. James & Anne too. And don't forget my Mom & her husband, & my brother & his family.

"Now, Lord, I would be Yours alone and live so all might see the strength to follow Your commands could never come from me. Oh Father, use my ransomed life in any way You choose, and let my song forever be, 'My only boast is You.'" (a *great* song line; a much more difficult prayer goal for me personally right now)

With much love, & a thankful heart, & great hope,
Mike

Singing the Gospel to Myself

So, what does one think about when walking to M.D. Anderson for bloodwork & a P.E.T. scan? I'll answer for me: I was singing the two songs below. Please do NOT be impressed with my piety & righteousness. Remember in the previous post where I mentioned my fear? Yeah…singing these songs to myself was me dealing w/ my fear. As my beloved friend & pastor Tony Merida reminds us often, I was “preaching the Gospel to myself". Only in song form, which works very well (as Tony also says). Songs are theology that we can take home. Or into the waiting rooms & scan rooms & Dr. offices of MDA, whichever.

Actually, I was just singing the chorus of the first one over & over. I also sang what I could remember of the second one. The first one is one of Lisa's & my favorite hymns (just written a couple of years ago, btw). Incredible words, & yet another one that tells my own story. We sang it just this past Sunday in church (thanks Paul & choir & orchestra!). Read the words s l o w l y for they are incredibly rich. And VERY timely for me today. I 'spect I'll be singing it again tomorrow too.

ALL I HAVE IS CHRIST
I once was lost in darkest night
Yet thought I knew the way
The sin that promised joy and life
Had led me to the grave
I had no hope that You would own
A rebel to Your will
And if You had not loved me first
I would refuse You still

But as I ran my hell-bound race
Indifferent to the cost
You looked upon my helpless state
And led me to the cross
And I beheld God’s love displayed
You suffered in my place
You bore the wrath reserved for me
Now all I know is grace

Hallelujah! All I have is Christ
Hallelujah! Jesus is my life

Now, Lord, I would be Yours alone
And live so all might see
The strength to follow Your commands
Could never come from me
Oh Father, use my ransomed life
In any way You choose
And let my song forever be
My only boast is You

Hallelujah! All I have is Christ
Hallelujah! Jesus is my life

© 2008 Sovereign Grace Praise (BMI), by Jordan Kauflin

Here's a link to a video of the song from a conference a couple of years ago. 6 minutes long; enjoy! (I'll be the one singing along with you...*smile*)

This second one is a long-time fave of mine. Simple, yet powerful words, set to BEAUTIFUL music. In a remarkable "coincidence" (not), my Bible reading plan had me in Psalm 80 this morning. Psalm 80 has these words three times:

Restore us, O God of hosts; let your face shine, that we may be saved!

Again, a very timely word for me today. And that word took me once again to PCD's beautiful song. I wasn't in "the darkest night" but I definitely have been there inside of MDA, and many others were there today.

SHINE ON US– performed by Phillips, Craig, & Dean
Lord, let your light, Light of your face shine on us
Lord, let your light, Light of your face shine on us
That we may be saved; that we may have life
To find our way in the darkest night
Let your light shine on us

Lord let your grace, grace from your hand fall on us
Lord let your grace, grace from your hand fall on us
That we, may be saved; that we, may have life
To find our way in the darkest night
Let your grace fall on us

Lord let your love, love with no end come over us
Lord let your love, love with no end come over us
That we may be saved; That we, may have life
To find our way in the darkest night
Let your love come over us

And here's a link to a video of this one. (The video is time lapse images with the original song playing.) I just *love* how they add a voice of harmony on each of the verses.) Enjoy this one too! (Again, I'll be the one singing along.)

Please pray for us tomorrow. My appointment w/ Dr. Homsi is at 1:30. The clock...is..... already........slowing..........down.....(or so it seems).

Thanks SO MUCH for your prayers. As I told a friend today, I will never again downplay the significance of the phrase "praying for you." It is so very humbling to know that my family & I are being mentioned in the throneroom of Glory by so many of you.

Humbled, Thankful, & Hopeful,
Mike

Off to MDA again...Prayers MOST Welcome!

The plane ticket is reserved. The motel room is reserved. The Super Shuttle from the airport to the motel & back is reserved. The leaving time from James' apt. in Jackson to the airport is decided. A piece of couch @ James' place in Jackson is reserved on the way back to keep from having to drive home late. The appts. for the scans, bloodwork, & the latest most-important-Dr.-appt-in-my-life are set.

Now it's time to wait. And pray. And pray some more. And ask my friends & acquaintances to pray. Again.

Sunday afternoon (3/20) I'll drive up to Jackson & drop my car @ James' apt. He'll run me over to the airport for my evening flight to Hobby Airport. (Flying is a new wrinkle to the MDA runs...with gas prices going ever upward, I'll wind up getting there & back for roughly the same price, and will do so without the 16-17 hrs. of driving time as an added bonus. Flying also adds the new transportation wrinkle of something called "Super Shuttle" that'll take me from airport to the motel & back.)

Monday (3/21), I'll either ride a shuttle or walk to MDA (depending on motivation) for a fun-filled day. Bloodwork & P.E.T. scan. The real bummer is, no food nor coffee until after the scan is over. Do-able, but I'm not happy about it. *smile*

Tuesday (3/22) is the all-important appt. w/ Dr. Homsi to get the results of Monday's scan. An easy day physically. The most stressful day mentally & emotionally by a long way...My BP is managed between meds & Short Ribs the bicycle. But the meds & the biking fall well short of keeping the BP down on P.E.T. scan results day. *sigh* I fly back to Jackson Tuesday night, & will drive back to H'burg Wed. a.m.

Emotions? Yep.

Fears? Yep. (Sorry to disappoint anyone with that confession.)

Faith despite the previous two? Absolutely!!

That faith is what pulls me through the emotions & fears & keeps me looking ahead with ultimate hope.

Trips back to MDA always draw me back to Paul's words in 2 Cor. 4:6-8 & 16-18 (which have become my life verses & life goals over these past couple of years; the last time I got to preach a sermon, this was my text)

For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair...So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.

Trips back to MDA also draw me back to Moses' words in Psalm 90:1-3 & 12-17. (One of the wisest men I know quote a good portion of this in prayer when he turned 50 some years ago at one of the most moving & significant birthday celebrations I've ever experienced. I've been captivated by the Psalm since then.)

Lord, you have been our dwelling place in all generations. Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever you had formed the earth and the world, from everlasting to everlasting you are God. You return man to dust and say, “Return, O children of man!”...So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom. Return, O Lord! How long? Have pity on your servants! Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love, that we may rejoice and be glad all our days. Make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us, and for as many years as we have seen evil. Let your work be shown to your servants, and your glorious power to their children. Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us, and establish the work of our hands upon us; yes, establish the work of our hands!

MDA trips also draw me back to Isaiah's words in Isaiah 41:9-10 & 43:1-3a, 10-11. (At my first appt. w/ my local oncologist--who was already a friend--he shared some of these verses with me while telling me, "I am merely a tool in the hands of Almighty God; the outcome of your cancer journey is not ultimately in my hands, but His. Here are some verses I share with all of my patients at the first appointment." Easily one of the most awesome Dr. appts. I've ever had, in the true sense of the word "awesome" as in, "struck with awe.")

You whom I took from the ends of the earth, and called from its farthest corners, saying to you, “You are my servant, I have chosen you and not cast you off; fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand...For I, the Lord your God, hold your right hand; it is I who say to you, 'Fear not, I am the one who helps you.'”...
But now thus says the Lord, he who created you...he who formed you...“Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior..."You are my witnesses,” declares the Lord, “and my servant whom I have chosen, that you may know and believe me and understand that I am he. Before me no god was formed, nor shall there be any after me. I, I am the Lord, and besides me there is no savior."

Thank you SO much for praying for us! ("Us" is the key word; I strongly believe that it's FAR easier to be the patient than to be the loved one of the patient. Thank you for praying for Lisa too! Likewise, the children of the patient...Thank you for praying for James & Anne as well) Would you do it again these next couple of days?

I have no reason to expect bad results. But melanoma is a nasty cancer that is always prone to come back (like mine did). I know that the God of the universe, Who created it all & Who upholds it by the word of his power, Who sees the end from the beginning, Who is outside of time yet is involved in time, Who has gloriously redeemed me & is transforming me into the image of His Son, my Savior...I know that He is well aware of all of the ins & outs of metastatic melanoma & that He is well aware of all the fits & starts & many flaws of Mike Madaris & that He knows with absolutely certainty what the P.E.T. scan will show Monday & what Dr. Homsi will tell me Tuesday.

Here's one more reality check: last Fall, a HS classmate of mine went in for her followup P.E.T. scan. It didn't go well. She went to MDA for surgery in December. Her funeral was this morning. She leaves behind a husband & two sons. THAT is the reality of cancer for so many; I am already a very extreme outlier statistically.

Thanks again for praying!
With love, humility, faith, & hope,
Mike

p.s. - for those who are interested, I'll be "live-tweeting" this trip on my Twitter feed (@mmbeachbum), including, of course, the results of Tuesday's appt. Caution: trips to MDA evoke a rather odd & borderline inappropriate sense of humor in me as a fun coping mechanism. You've been warned! *grin*

Our New Small Group

On Sunday evenings this Spring, some 8-10 college students & a couple of recent grads venture over to join us @ the house for our 1st college small group meeting in way too long. Well, except for last night when 100% of the car owners in the group was out of town...

Lisa & I are VERY excited about it! We have dearly treasured small groups & the friendships made there in the past. And thus, we are very much enjoying this group too.

Our official material for this group is a blend of (a) The Bible, and (b) Business for the Glory of God: The Bible's Teaching on the Moral Goodness of Business, by Wayne Grudem. (Take a wild guess where I met the folks in our group...*smile*)

It will surprise nobody who's read me for very long that I am a huge fan of Dr. Wayne Grudem's teaching. A major theologian with a great heart for ministry; great combo! Dr. Grudem's undergrad degree is in Economics from Harvard. (His Ph.D. is from Cambridge...which means he has graduated from schools that I'm barely qualified to drive past!) This particular book of his is from a life-long passion he has to see faith integrated into the Business world (a passion shared by me as a Business School professor). Note the subtitle above: "on the moral goodness of Business"...It's his thesis--and mine!--that the business disciplines & practices are in & of themselves morally GOOD according to the clear teaching of Scripture. They are not just morally neutral, and are definitely not morally bad...morally good. (Although certainly--as Dr. Grudem notes--the various aspects of Business offer serious temptations to sin)

And thus, our small group of students who are/were students in Business at my university. They're *great* folks; the kind who continue to give me hope for the future. (Aside: I've said it before, & will again...anyone who totally despairs of the future needs to meet more college students!)

But here's the kicker for this group that just delights me to no end: every single one of them grew up somewhere else besides North America. Rwanda, Nigeria, Zimbabwe, Russia, Sweden...I've never led a small group like that before, and we are just *loving* it! I am SO thankful for God's providence in my job, that places such great students in my path who are fun to hang out with & who are in a perfect place to try to sort through how their faith intersects their career paths.

Loving God's Providence @ the moment,
bb

(p.s. - Just a short one this time. You're welcome. But be forewarned; the muse has shown up a *lot* recently. You should see the "drafts" folder here. *smile*)

A Heart of Wisdom (for Gary)

(A re-post from last year; in case you missed it.)

You ever know someone that's nearly perfect?

Someone that everyone gets along with?
Someone who has quietly succeeded in a career without fanfare?
Someone who's a role model for many?
Who pours himself out in service to others, again without fanfare?
Whose face always has a smile on it and is quick to laugh?
Who seeks the good in everyone and who never feels compelled to judge nor to air out dirty laundry about people?

I know such a guy.
Even better, I'm related to him.
Better still, I grew up alongside him.
Even better (well, for me...) I got to room with him in college.

My cousin Gary had a birthday last week. One of those big, change-the-first-digit birthdays...that results in lots of cards & letters from the AARP. I'd mock him, but I had that same birthday last year...

Gary is who I want to be when I grow up, even though I'm 9 months older than he. He's really quite a guy, and has always been quite a guy. Even-keeled...a man with strong convictions who is still friendly with those who don't share those convictions...everybody's friend.

He's an absolute bedrock type guy in our home church where he & his family are members. Serves on all kinds of committees, because he's known as a behind-the-scenes worker bee. Every church needs guys like Gary. Lots of guys like Gary.

But much more, every guy--especially every deeply flawed guy like me--needs guys like Gary as friends. If relatives and friends, well, so much the better. And if relatives and friends and roommates,...that's almost too good!

I moved into an apt. with Gary when I transferred to the U. of Alabama after flaming out in my first attempt at college. Worse for him, I didn't just move into an apt...I moved into his room in the apt.! I'm a knucklehead now, but I was a HUGE knucklehead back then. And yet, Gary showed me nothing but loving grace and patience.

I recently wrote about a couple of Sunday School teachers who matter greatly to me. Well, Gary is not a teacher to me, but rather, an up-close role model & example to me. Those who know my story may connect that I was pretty chapped at God & at life when I arrived @ Bama. In His gracious providence, God moved me in with someone who had experienced the same tragic loss I had...and his Dad died younger than mine at an earlier stage of Gary's life than when my Dad died...and yet, there was Gary, living out a settled, joyful faith in that same God I was so furious about and Whom I so strongly doubted.

I have laughed & said that Gary helped me come to know the Lord and helped me meet my wife, but other than that, he hasn't been all that important to me...*huge grin* Well, both are totally true. In addition, Gary helped me get back on course when our orbits coincided again there in Tuscaloosa.

He never preached to me nor at me...but he lived life before me. There are far too many these days who preach at without living life before. Their message tends to fall on deaf ears.

A word that's in far-too-short supply these days applies: HONOR. Gary honored his mother (who, incidentally, is another hero of mine), and he honored his friends, and he honored his pastor, and he honored his future wife. Most of all, he lived a life that honored his Lord. Our Lord.

And I took note.

And my taking note bore fruit down the road. I trust it still bears fruit today!

So, whenever you pay a tax in Okaloosa County, FL (think "Destin"), that tax will funnel through the county finance office. Which is run by this great guy who graduated from Alabama in accounting, despite having this hammerheaded roommate that he was related to gumming up the works...and which hammerheaded roommate is now oh-so-grateful for what he saw of God's grace lived out on a daily basis in the accounting dude's life. That same grace-filled life is now lived before the locals there back home and in First Baptist Church of Ft. Walton Beach, and is still planting seeds in the lives of teenagers and adults, who may not even realize just how grateful they are to see that life lived out before them.

Gary will be terribly embarrassed at this, for he prefers to be unnoticed & behind the scenes. But his life & faith matter so very greatly to my own life & faith, that I can't not write about him.

Happy Belated Birthday, Cuz! Love you very much. And thanks! As the song says, "Thank you...I am a life that was changed..."

Mike

(Some verses that come to mind about Gary...)
I thank my God through Jesus Christ for all of you, because your faith is proclaimed in all the world.
Romans 1:8

I give thanks to my God always for you because of the grace of God that was given you in Christ Jesus...
1 Corinthians 1:4

I thank my God in all my remembrance of you
Philippians 1:3

I thank my God always when I remember you in my prayers, because I hear of your love and of the faith that you have toward the Lord Jesus and for all the saints...For I have derived much joy and comfort from your love, my brother, because the hearts of the saints have been refreshed through you.
Philemon 1:4,5,7

p.s. - Ironically, Gary's Mom & my Mom were also roommates at Alabama before they were sisters-in-law...I've always thought this was very cool that 2 generations were roomies there. But that's another story for another day...

Like Swallows Returning to Capistrano...

(FYI, not much writing here; lots of pics tho, so freshen up your coffee! *smile*)

So, this past Valentine's Day was the 30th anniversary of my first date with this beautiful Bama coed with gorgeous blue eyes. Just a little over 3 years later, we put rings on each other's fingers, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Even I, a relationally-challenged male (pardon the redundancy there), recognized that this was a biggie. In discussing what to do for the anniversary, here's what my Bama coed said: "Let's ride up to Tuscaloosa & poke around campus & eat some Dreamland ribs." I thought long & hard about this for 2, maybe 3 nano-seconds.

Private tour of Bryant-Denny Stadium? Check! (Including seeing the places where people who live in *vastly* different financial worlds than I sit to watch games...)

In our days @ UA, it seated 60-something thousand folks. Now it's 101,000+.

We like our football history @ Bama. Even the concession stands tell some history.

Despite the huge size, massive muscles, & obvious youthful blazing speed,

this is NOT one of Coach Saban's stud players. It's me, silly!





"Simply put, football is eyes, movement, and contact." Paul W. Bryant

The locker room. I was VERY fired up & ready to go out on the field & hit someone after
walking around in here. Instead, we went to eat...which is not exactly the same thing.

DT...still one of the best ever in both college and the pros. R.I.P. #55.


I love what they've done to the lockers. This was Mark Ingram's locker; my childhood hero Johnny Musso, the original Italian Stallion, also wore #22.

Once more, Greg McElroy's Mom was in HS with me.

Joe Namath & Kenny Stabler were All-Americans who also wore #12.

Julio Jones' locker. Despite standing here & staring a couple of minutes,
I'm neither taller nor faster. Strange...

Where the incredibly rich folk sit to watch a game.

Same box, looking away from the field.

And again.

"In Training"...Yeah, my childhood dream was to play for Coach Bryant;
alas, when one's 5'5" & about 115 @ age 18, + very slow/wimpy, such dreams die young...

It's a bit more crowded here on game day.

2 young Bama undergrads hanging out near Denny Chimes.

Wait...that might be Lisa & me; confusing us w/ undergrads is, of course, a natural mistake.

Around Denny Chimes, they put the hand & footprints of each year's captains.

Bobby Smith was Coach Bryant's 1st QB @ Bama.

He was also principal of Meigs Jr. High, which boasts one

Michael B. Madaris as a proud member of the class of 74.

The President's Home. Of course, it's been years since the UA President actually lived there, but it's still a pretty neat place.

From the Quad looking toward the stadium

Denny Chimes.

Denny Chimes from across the Quad. In another couple of weeks the campus (like many campuses in this part of the world!) will be beautiful with plants & trees blooming.

The Gorgas Library. This other Bama coed I know studied Library Sciences at UA & thus spent a lot of time in this building. After graduating, she & her hubby moved down to Ft. Walton Beach, FL & raised two sons. One of them blogs occasionally, and has been seen teaching Econ & Finance in Mississippi. *clears throat*

The building on the right is Bidgood Hall, which is one of the buildings housing the College of Commerce & Business Administration. (In our day, it was the *only* building housing CBA; now there are three) The building on the left is where these grad students in Econ & Finance used to have offices. One of those guys has been seen teaching Econ & Finance in South MS.
Random quad pic. Since it was a beautiful Spring-like day, there were a *bunch* of students playing frisbee, tossing a football around, walking dogs, playing music, or just lying there chilling.

My Bama coed hanging out on the Quad.

The Gorgas Home, rt in the middle of campus. Josiah Gorgas was chief artillery officer for the Confederate Army as I recall reading. When Mom was @ UA, there were still Gorgas descendants living here. It's a very neat place.

Michael B. Madaris, Economics, 1983. Lisa L. Mixon Madaris, Accounting, 1984.

Michael B. Madaris, M.A., Economics 1988; Ph.D. Financial Economics, 1990.

Bidgood Hall up close.

My last office in my Ph.D. studies days was the window directly over

where it says "Bidgood Hall."

Random Quad pic from in front of Bidgood.

Looking across the Quad.

My new Bama shirt: "A...How I Roll"

Our cholesterol had been a bit low; fortunately, there's Dreamland ribs to remedy that particular problem. In our day, there were only ribs on the menu; now they have sides too.
Still the same stylish interior decor.

Personalized autographed pic of the great Bart Starr, UA grad & Packer legend.

Above that, an autographed pic of UA grads & NFL legends Kenny Stabler & Ray Perkins (the pride of Petal, MS) Snake & Perkins combined for a bunch of passing yards for the Tide in the mid 60s.

The prelims: white bread & BBQ sauce. Nothing else is needed, really.

In our days @ UA, "Big Daddy" (pic by door) was still cooking the ribs here.

In 1980, this young beach hippie wanna-be moved to Tuscaloosa & roomed w/ a couple of guys from back home who already lived @ Forrester Gardens.

We lived in the one on the lower left that's boarded up. (Supply your own punchline here)

This beautiful coed from S. AL with gorgeous blue eyes lived in the one on the upper right.

Our church in downtown Tuscaloosa when we were newlyweds. Our pastor back then is now executive director of the AL Baptists. *Significant* life change & roots strengthening happened here in the mid 1980s. SO thankful...

Out in Holt a couple of miles outside of town, there's this trailer court. On this particular site was a used trailer back in the day. In that trailer lived this couple of newlyweds, in un-air-conditioned comfort. (Newlyweds do such foolish things...) That couple now lives in Hattiesburg, MS, but rolled back through Tuscaloosa a couple of weeks ago...

This driveway leads to the former home of my MUCH beloved Aunt & Uncle Daisy & George Styles. They were our landlords & lived just across the road from the trailer court. Being in their orbit @ the end of my single days & @ the beginning of our married days was a GREAT privilege that was HUGELY significant in making me who I am today as a man, husband, father, disciple, & church member. Uncle George's gorgeous tenor voice is now part of the heavenly choir praising the One he loved & sang to on earth. Aunt Daisy is still here.

Lisa & I just TREASURE their impact on us!

I even got a personal note welcoming me back to campus from the University Police. Well, it didn't exactly say "welcome back to campus"...more like "Don't ever park here again without a parking decal." But using the tools of postmodern debate & political discourse, I read it to say "Welcome back to campus." *smile*

And thus wraps up a photoblog of our return to Capistrano, er Tuscaloosa...

Roll Tide!
BB