#108: The Rhythmic Tune of Silent Suffering

Have you ever struggled with chronic pain or know someone who has? My wife Kelly Aalseth wrote the book on it! It's called Keeper of your Life.

I am so proud of the hard work she has put in to share in her journey with chronic pain. There is so much to learn about dealing with the pain and how to live a full life and glorify Jesus in the midst of the pain. I highly recommend getting this book, not just because my wife wrote it, but because there are tips and strategies on how to be a good friend to someone in pain, how to communicate your pain and how to build an effective team around you that can help you through the hardest days.

Below is a poem from Kelly's book. It is about the moments where you are suffering and want to cry out, but don't want to make a scene. It's that moment where we hope someone will notice our pain and ask what's wrong, but knowing deep down inside, the cry for help is the best thing for us. 

One two three four one…

Breathe

Say it

I can’t…two three four

Now

Now’s your chance

Longer...one two three

Breathe

Ok

My eyes say it...four one two

Notice, please

Words

I can’t... three four one

Waited

too long

Breathe

They notice

Shouldn’t they?... Two three four

Cry, please cry

Not coming

Almost

SPEAK

Ok

BREATHE…

“I hurt.”

Kelly Aalseth, 2016

#107: Hope Unfulfilled

My wife is tough as nails. Seriously. She endures chronic physical pain day after day. She has dealt with it for seven years with little understanding of if or when it will end. Yet she keeps going about her day, striving to do what is right and what is best for others and for herself. But there is a cost. Week after week, with no end in sight, the constant pain can become overwhelming. Kelly can hope like the best of us, but when the pain continues, and the years pass, the hopelessness will creep in.

There are days where I forget that Kelly is in constant pain. Her joy is so genuine that the pain seems to disappear. Yet sometimes, in the stillness of the night, the pain overwhelms her. Maybe it's the quiet, or maybe it's the restlessness. In these terrible nights, I'll begin to hear Kelly cry. Not a necessarily a cry of pain, but more a cry of hopelessness. A cry for help because the pain is constant and the sleep is never coming. And that is the toughest word to hear, never.

"I'll never get better, I'll never know what it's like to be without pain, I'll never sleep, I'll never be normal..."

 I know in these moments, it's my time to love on my wife the best way I can. Oftentimes this consists of me making a joke at the absolute worst time, but somehow, it makes Kelly laugh and gives her a brief respite, though not a solution for her pain. 

That's usually followed up by me trying to gauge how bad it is and trying to make Kelly as comfortable as possible. Then the run through of medications to take and if we have them. And of course, there is prayer. Prayer in the middle of the night is tough, because you want to be earnest and caring, but you also want to sleep. We can pray for what feels like hours, though it is probably half an hour or so, and we pray with expectation. But we often don't get that immediate answer. It's a struggle and the feelings of never begin to creep in to our minds.

The feeling of never though, in this instance, is one to rebuke. I can't let the lie that it will never happen poison Kelly's mind. Because never is not the promise that God has for us.

In the middle of the night

When all is quiet and still 

I hear you begin to weep

I know the tears you'll spill

The pain is back again

It came rushing in at three

We don't know how or why

This complication came to be

I hold you in my arms

We both begin to pray

For your relief to come

Before the light of day

We ask and ask and ask

We hope and hope and hope

We don't have physical means

For how to deal and cope

I hear the lie inside you

That this will never go away

That hope unfulfilled

Is the only promise of the day

But please remember my love

I am right here with you

And that hopelessness inside

Is a promise that is untrue

#106: Glass House Part 2

When I wrote Glass House, I realized it was incomplete. While attempting to recognize the social constructs and moral understandings that create the Glass House for a person exploring Christianity from an LGBTQ lens, I am learning that there are no quick answers or simple solutions. The Glass House is there and it reminds the LGBTQ of the rejection they face from Christian communities. Although Christians can make a moral stand in regards to sexuality, should it be at the expense of reaching someone who is genuinely seeking God?

You see me
You want me to know
Of your Jesus
You want me to love
Like you love
But I don't

You see me
In this Glass house
You hear me
You judge me
But you can't reach me

I cry to you
But you reject me
I ask for help
But you hate me

I am a sinner
Just like you
Can I be forgiven?

I am a beautiful soul
If you look at me you’ll see it

Please shatter this reality

#105: Remember...

My wife Kelly has been at UCLA since 2005. First as a student, then as staff with InterVarsity. At the end of the fall quarter of 2017 she will be transitioning out of UCLA. This past spring, during one of her last retreats with the UCLA students I wrote Kelly a poem of reflection. The poem is written on the left side of a sheet of paper, and on the right side, Kelly will have the chance to write down names and memories of her time at UCLA. 

While visiting the retreat, I thought it would be romantic to sneak the poem in to her bag or put it somewhere where she would definitely see it the following morning. Before arriving that evening to the retreat, Kelly asked me to pick up some Tiger Balm for her. I decided to fold up the poem and hide it in the Tiger Balm box, thinking that when she opened it that night, she would see the poem. 

Sadly, as I handed her the Tiger Balm, she opened it as we were saying goodbye and proceeded to crumple up the box to throw it away. I very smoothly grabbed the box and told her to look inside. She probably thought it was jewelry or something, but no, it was a newly crumpled piece of paper. Thankfully, it wasn't completely trashed and she was able to read it later that night. 

I wanted to give Kelly the chance to reflect on her time at UCLA and on all that the Lord has done.
Ministry is so difficult, and college ministry has its own unique challenges. It's easy to get wrapped up in the day to day, but every once in awhile, it is good to look back and remember all that has been accomplished and all that the Lord will continue to do. 

Kelly Aalseth presenting a timeline of UCLA at Intervarsity

As you remember the things
the Lord has done,
The work in their hearts
that has only begun.

Remember the small moments
that make you smile,
Remember the times
you went the extra mile

Remember the tears
you shared with friends,
Remember the sin
that the Lord has cleansed.

Remember those
that helped push you along,
Remember those
that said you belong.

Remember the times
you stumbled and fell,
Remember the grace
that saves from hell.

Remember those
that taught you God's word,
Remember for whom
the Gospel was heard.

Remember the pain
and brokenness compiled,
and the way God moves
so we can be reconciled.

Remember the joy,
Remember the fun,
Remember the good times
with everyone.

Lastly remember
What God starts He finishes,
And that of the eternal
never diminishes.

#104: Po Po

True character and heart are not revealed by action, but by age. When someone advances in age, we see who they really are. 

For my Po Po (grandma), she emanated joy to her last day. She was always sharp as a tack and always interested to know how my life was going. The last time I saw her, although weak, she beamed with joy and was so grateful to get to see Kelly and myself as we returned from our honeymoon. She said to us, "I am so happy that you two are in love, and I'm so happy that you are happy!" 

Truly a special lady whose character and heart of joy were true to her last day. 

Thank you for all the wonderful memories Po Po. 

There is no greater blessing

Than to be loved

By family, by friends

By God up above

This is for my Po Po

From all of us who’ve known

That sweet and generous heart

And all the love she’s shown

Her spirited and boisterous laugh

Her smile from ear to ear

For from within her heart

Came a joy so perfectly clear

Always so delightful

She spoke with such sincerity

The sweetest sounding words

With purpose and with clarity

Always so bright and cheerful

With a sharp intelligence

She knew to live life fully

To embrace the present tense

Po Po you loved us well

There is no greater blessing

We remember you so fondly

As you make your final resting

#103: Age of Missed Information

Have you ever seen this picture before? It's of Nihar Janga clapping in the face of Jairam Hathwar after Jairam just misspelled a word at the 2016 Scripps National Spelling Bee.

What is your initial reaction when you see this picture?

For me, I was pissed that this kid would show such poor sportsmanship. I shook my head in disappointment and faux rage at an internet meme. "Oh unjust world, how could this kid get away with such rotten behavior," I thought to myself as I stewed in anger over a picture that contained no context.

I wanted to know more so I looked up articles on the 2016 Spelling Bee in hopes of better understanding young Nihar and his ultra-competitive instincts. As I delved deeper into the story, I found that the meme misrepresented the truth. My opinion of Nihar as a poor sport was wrong. Yes, opinions can be wrong. Especially when you don't know the full story

Here's how the spelling bee went down. Jairam and Nihar were locked in a battle of wits. Jairam stepped up to the mic and was given the word Drahthaar. With the championship on the line, Jairam misspelled the word. Defeated, he went to his seat. Nihar would now have a chance at winning the championship if he spells his next word correctly. But as Jairam sits down next to Nihar, Nihar is clapping along with the crowd for the solid effort by Jairam. He then turns to Jairam and claps in his face but the clapping is not meant as disrespect towards an opponent, but as encouragement to a friend. You see, Jairam and Nihar had gotten to know each other over the past year and became close friends.

After the contest Nihar said this in response to Jairam’s miss. "I wanted to win, but at the same time I felt really bad for Jairam."

I had Nihar pegged all wrong. Although he displayed an entertaining flare at the event, he was by no means, a poor sport. It turned out that Nihar would miss his next word as well and the competition would end in a tie with both Jairam and Nihar being named champions.

So what did I learn in this endeavor? That internet memes and headlines are not enough to form a valid opinion. In a world of hot takes and breaking news, do not be quick to judge because there's more to the story then the headline.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=ZvkUCzHRo2I

You awaken from your slumber
And see headlines of the day
Of this and that, and that and this
So many things at play

You glance over each story
And formulate your thoughts
But this type of opinion forming
Is much like casting lots

Dig in past the surface
And investigate the news
Learn to think with a critical mind
To better support your views

#102: A Refugees Decision

If a refugee comes to the United States, it is not only an opportunity for them, but an opportunity for us. It gives us the chance to love and care for that refugee, to welcome them, and to provide a confirmation to their hope. It is a chance for us to show what make's America great in the first place.

The refugee comes here with high hopes and in desperate need. Furthermore, a child refugee is the most impressionable of people. If they are welcomed here, they can become a part of our country and make a lasting contribution.

Two questions must then be posed. If not here, where then will the child go? And what will the child become? If they go back to their war torn home, they may become the very terrorists we fear. Our national security is not improved if we are creating more enemies.

He came to my porch with a gift

He knocked but there was no answer

He came from a violent land

He came for a helping hand

I didn't want to talk to a stranger

I didn't want to know who he was

I dared not answer the door

For I feared what he was here for

He went back to his old home

Impressionable but with no hope

They took him in the darkest of night

They taught him to hate and to fight

This boy who once had a future

Standing again at my door

He didn't knock this time around

He busted the front door down

I looked him straight in his eyes
Now hatred was all I could see
But if I had let him in earlier
What type of man could he be?