Truth Found in a Porta-John

The sounds of loud snoring came from the row of porta-johns as I went by. “That’s weird, I hope nothing’s wrong,” I thought. Then I decided, “Someone’s probably joking around, trying to freak people out,” and I went on by to return to my campsite.

To this day, I’m sorry that I did.

Several hours later, a woman came by our campsite. “Have any of you seen Petey?,”she asked.

None of us knew Petey and said so. She then told us that Petey was an old fella who was camping there that lots of people knew. “He’s not healthy,” she said, “and no one has seen him for hours. He has trouble getting around and has breathing problems.”

A terrible realization dawned on me as I told her about the sounds I had heard earlier.

When they checked the porta-johns, they found Petey. The sounds I had heard and ignored were the sounds of a man suffocating to death. After the door had closed, he had fallen in the little space between the door and the toilet and had been unable to get up, and so died suffocating in a porta-john.

I’m not entirely sure where this falls on the scale of ‘Bad ways to die,’ but I’m pretty sure it’s up there on the list.

Had I taken the time to investigate my suspicions, a man might not have died.

I bring this up because, this last Sunday, a woman was sitting in a pew at before church. It appeared she was sleeping and many people passed her by without noticing. Yes, I know it is customary to wait until the sermon to fall asleep, so this must have been unusual. Sharon, our church secretary didn’t pass by. She noticed that things weren’t right, and she saved a life. The lady wasn’t sleeping, she was in diabetic shock with blood glucose in the 20s!!! That’s barely enough to maintain life. If Sharon hadn’t taken the time to notice, then she could have died right then and there.

There is a lesson here that goes far past the issue of life and death. The deeper issue is our awareness of others around us. As we become more and more focused on ourselves and less aware of others, the sense of community dies. We become more and more separated and it becomes harder to care about anyone but ourselves.

Ecclesiastes describes this very situation almost 3000 years ago:

There was a man all alone;
He had neither son nor brother.
There was no end to his toil,
yet his eyes were not content with his wealth.
"For whom am I toiling," he asked,
"and why am I depriving myself of enjoyment?"
This too is meaningless -- a miserable business!

Two are better than one.
Because they have a good return for their work:

If one falls down, his friend can help him up.
But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up!

Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm.
But how can one keep warm alone?

Though one may be overpowered,
two can defend themselves.

A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.

Ecclesiastes 4:8-12

The need to be a part of a community, to be loved, to be cared about is deeply embedded in our soul. The challenge then is this: How do we get our eyes off of ourselves and on to others?

This is not an easy thing to do.

People are difficult. Humanity is messy.

The task is to love our neighbor as we love ourselves. But what if our neighbor is a jerk? What if our family member is cruel? What if our coworker is weird?

It is a whole lot easier to love others if we can be truthful with ourselves. We too can be cruel, weird, and mean. If we can be loved, then we can love others.

I believe this is what the lies behind God’s call for us to love others. It is only by breaking out of our own selfishness and serving others that we begin to improve ourselves. Alone, we are nothing but self serving chemical reactions, but in a community, we become so much more.

Today, make it a point to love someone else.

It doesn’t matter if they share the same beliefs as you. Love them.

It doesn’t matter if they are nice to you. Reach out to them.

It doesn’t matter if they are outgoing or introverted. Pay attention to them.

It doesn’t matter if they have nothing to give back to you. Give to them.

Find yourself by serving others. It is an incredible gift to them and to yourself.

Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others. Philippians 2:3-4

The rest of the story:

Ironically, Petey turned out to be my first funeral as a minister. Because we were many miles back in the middle of nowhere, we had to wait for the Sheriff to come an investigate the death and the coroner to come and take Petey away. The lady who had originally come looking for Petey came back later and asked, “Wasn’t one of you a preacher or some such?” I said I was a new minister and she replied, “Well, we think Petey was a Presbyterian and figured he’d like it if someone said a few words.” So, 20 minutes later, I found myself doing an impromptu funeral in front of a porta-john, miles from civilization, with a newly dead body on the ground in front of me covered by a sleeping bag. Rest in Peace Petey.

Dear Eric

Dear Eric,

I wanted to take a moment to say thank you for allowing me to attend your funeral. I never had the privilege of meeting you in life, but I want you to know that your life has touched mine. I understand that your close friends called you “Shoe,” but since I’m not that close, I hope it is not too casual for me to call you Eric.

Earlier this week, a friend of mine, Deputy Moody from the Yavapai County Sheriff’s Department honored me with an invitation to accompany him to the funeral of a fallen officer, murdered in the line of duty. I had heard the details on the news and said a hurried prayer for your family, but truly hadn’t given it much more thought, until Deputy Moody emailed me the invitation.

I joined him and about 2500 officers from all around Arizona and the Nation to honor your sacrifice, to cry with your family, and to mourn your passing. It really was quite a shindig, complete with tears, laughter, and nostalgia. From the descriptions given by your family and friends, I think you might have appreciated it, but probably would have chosen to be somewhere else, skiing, barbecuing, or hanging out with friends.

I have been to quite a few funerals, and I have figured out that some eulogies are merely lip service to a person who hardly mattered or worse, wasn’t liked by those around them. Other services, like yours, show that the person was truly loved, truly touched the people around them, truly made a difference in this world. The stories shared by your friends, family, and fellow officers told the story of a man who loved his daughters, loved a practical joke, and was a big presence in the lives of everyone he met. You lived a life of service and capped it off giving your life in the line of duty.

Speaking about your daughters, I cried for them. My heart ached to see them walk in looking stunned and unsure, living their own private nightmare in front of the world. I prayed for them. Your family shared a picture montage of your life, and it seemed that most of the pictures were of you and one or both of your daughters, smiling, playing, and loving. As a dad myself, I respect you for that, and I hurt that much more because a good dad was taken far too early. How can you put a price on the loss of a hundred piggyback rides that will never happen, thousands of hugs from daddy that they’ll never get, and never getting to be walked down the aisle by you.

I hope it helped your family some to see the processional. What an amazing experience that was; hundreds of police cars driving along with lights flashing on the trip to the grave side service. People lined the road, many stopping their cars to get out and watch, hands over their hearts. Many people had brought their children out, holding them up to wave as the police cars passed. Others waved American flags or held signs of respect for you and encouragement for your family. That is respect for a man who most definitely deserved it. It’s a shame that it takes this type of event for people to show respect to officers such as you.

I can say this much, policemen really know how to throw a hell of a funeral. Helicopters flew overhead in a missing man formation. They led a horse with the boots facing backwards in the stirrups. Taps was played, followed by the skirl of bagpipes and a 21 gun salute. An honor guard from dozens of police, sheriff, and fire departments watched over your family and your body on the procession to graveside. The American flag was removed from your coffin and given to your family. I cried again when they gave your final radio call. Thousands of officers wept for you and your family. It was sure something to see all those burly, rough-tough men and women crying and sniffling.

I’m hate that there are evil men in this world like the scum who shot you and shot at other officers that terrible night. It’s too bad that they were only wounded in the return fire. To quote the Sergeant who spoke at your funeral, “It’s too bad that the one who shot you didn’t die, but we all know that cockroaches don’t always die when you squash them.” I’m pretty sure that wasn’t a politically correct thing to say, but I’m glad he said it. We were all thinking it. The one shining thing in all of this is that there are men and women warriors like you, patrolling our streets, protecting the good people from the evil ones. Another appropriate quote in this situation goes something like this, “good men sleep safe in their beds because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf.” Thank you for being one of those rough men.

The saddest part about all of this is that the world goes on. The ones who were responsible will go to prison and live on. Even if one or both of them receive the death penalty, it will be decades before justice is served. Your family whose hearts ache right now with raw sorrow, must keep going. Your girls will grow up with a hole in their hearts, but will have to make it, even if they don't see how right now. Fellow officers must keep patrolling, risking their lives daily, just as you did. The community keeps living, the world keeps turning, and you will be forgotten by most. That is the harshest injustice of it all. That’s why I chose to write this letter to you. Someone has to remember.

Thank you, Lieutenant Shuhandler for your service. 10-7, your duty is over. Your fellow officers will take up the duty. Your model of service will guide them. I only hope that I can live up to your example of fatherhood and of service. Thank again and rest in peace.

A Friend Who Never Knew You,

Rodger S. Loar

Greater love has no man than this, that he lay down his life for another. John 15:13

If you are touched by this story and actually want to do something - please consider making a donation to the 100 Club of Phoenix that provides for the families of fallen police officers and firefighters.

www.100club.org

Also, if you see a police officer this week, stop and shake their hand and thank them for their service.

Perfect Birthday Gift

July 27, 2009. 37 years to the day from the time of my birth.

I write this not out of melancholy about growing older, nor to garner attention for the day. I write out of consideration of the gift of life that God has given me.

I once talked with my wife about making my own coffin. I love to do woodworking and leather crafting, so I am pretty sure that I could make a pretty cool coffin. I would probably put shelves in it so that it could be a useful bookcase or cabinet until I needed it for its primary purpose. I even downloaded plans from the internet.

My wife just gave me that look that she occasionally gives me when I come up with ideas like this. The look say, ‘I love you, but I think you are a bubble off of plumb.” She wasn’t too keen on the idea of having a coffin around.

Yes, I know this is weird, but track with me for a bit.

I figured out quite some time ago that life starts slow, in grade school, one year of life feels like it takes about a decade to complete (especially in math class). But sometime after your teens, life starts to go in fast forward. Each year, it gets faster and faster. I’m pretty sure that my final years will be reduced to minutes.

Again, this is not meant to be a maudlin commentary about the speed of life or my passing youth.

I just want some sort of constant reminder of the value of the time given us. I think that I might waste less time and resources if I have some sort of visual touchstone like my own coffin.

I wonder, would I spend any more money on ‘toys’ instead of using it to help others?

I wonder, would I waste any more time on video games or randomly surfing the net instead of spending time with my wife and daughter?

I wonder, would I spend so much time doing ministry work instead of investing time in the people that I am called to serve.

The problem with birthdays, funerals, and New Years day is that we so easily make resolutions to change, to focus on the important things. Yet, these things quickly go out the window as the day to day distractions of life step in. We pay bills, we lust after new toys (which usually leads to more bills), we go to work, we work on the house, we get our oil changed, we busy ourselves with hobbies. How quickly we forget our resolutions and begin wasting what little time we have.

This is why I want my own coffin. It can serve as a reminder that just won’t go away. Even if it starts to fade into the background of my own busy-ness, other people will remind me as they see it in my office or at the house.

In fact, I think this would make a great birthday gift that I could make for other people. A fine oak box, carved with beautiful designs and lined in fine leather, useful for a coffee table or a book case. Just picture the look on the person’s face as they open their birthday present from me and find a coffin.

Perhaps my wife is right, I just might be a bubble off of plumb.

In my professional opinion, it's time to get over it

OK, I have to say it... It has been two weeks now. If you aren't a part of Michael Jackson's immediate family and friends - Get over it.

I'm tired of that being the headlines in all the news, constantly mentioned on talk radio, and the only thing anyone seems to be talking about. I have no patience for the cult of personality for celebrities that our culture seems to thrive on.

You didn't know him personally and, no matter how much you liked his music, there is no personal connection there. Zip. Zero. Nada. Nicht. None.

If your life is so empty that his death matters to you (or the happenings of any other famous celebrity that you don't personally know), then it's time for you to get out into the real world. Go meet some people. Make some friends. Go to church. Use your time to serve others and get to know them.

His daughter's eulogy broke my heart. I hurt for her and the rest of his immediate family, just like I hurt for anyone who has lost someone close to them.

For the rest of you - get a life of your own and get over it.

That's all I have to say about that.

P.S. this also goes for anything to do with Paris Hilton, Brittany Spears, Brad and Angelina, Brad and Jennifer, the Jonas Brothers, Miley Cyrus, Lindsey Lohan, etc. etc. etc.

Today

Today,

More than 20,000 children will die due to famine or poverty related causes

Thousands will be made orphans due to loss of parents due to HIV/AIDS

Many more will be made homeless refugees due to war

Soldiers will be injured and die in wars around the world, leaving loved ones behind

Hundreds of Americans will lose jobs and homes due to the economy

Elderly grandmothers and grandfathers will languish in loneliness

Oh yeah, and some dead famous singer guy will receive thousands of hours of media coverage.

I'm glad we focus on the important stuff.

A Funny Thing Happened to Me on the Way to a Funeral

This blog originally posted Friday, March 16, 2007

Current mood: thoughtful Category: Life

I attended a funeral this week. Not my first. Definitely not my last (I'm guaranteed at least one more).

Something funny - I looked around the sanctuary and noted the people. We had the usual: men and women, young and old, different skin colors. But, more notable, the deeper you looked, you saw Protestant and Catholic, Jew and Agnostic, Believers in God and those that just can't be bothered by Him. There were gay and straight, pierced and tattooed, people who had feuds with others who were there, people who haven't spoken in years because they haven't made time, drinkers and smokers and those who abstain, partiers and clean-livers, those full of bitterness and those full of joy, suits and shorts, white collar and blue, mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, sisters, brother, cousins, aunts, uncles, grandchildren and a more. No one had a problem with someone else's presence. Beliefs and lifestyles weren't held against each other. Past wrongs were forgotten. Hearts were softened, walls were broken down.

All of these people were brought together, united in grief and the desire for hope. I think this is how it is supposed to be, how God wants it; people with soft hearts, humble minds, and open arms. This rich tapestry that should be present all the time exists only for a fleeting moment of tears and hugs and then we are back to our lives, trying to forget the looming presense of mortality. I have had the chance to attend a lot of funerals. I've been to two suicides, deaths from old age, sudden death and the end to a long-suffering illness. I've seen non-believers and believers both try to cope. I've been to a Mormon funeral and a Muslim funeral (that's a whole story in itself). It's always the same.

Why is it that it take such a drastic measure to make us realize (if only briefly) that all of the stuff that we busy our lives with, all of the things we take personally, all of the selfishness that we hold dear is really just not that important. Love conquers all, or so they say, but it sure doesn't seem to in our everyday existence. The saddest thing is that by the time we start work next week, most of us will be back to our old ways.

In professional ministry, I am asked the question, 'How can God allow pain,and suffering in this world?' The only answer that I have is that it is the only way He can get our attention.

What relationship do you need to mend before it is too late? How do you need to be humble to let someone else in. What point of pride do you need to let go? Who do you need to call?