Home Thoughts From Abroad

I was chatting to a younger colleague in our new favourite place, an uptairs cafe that makes me a soy latte just the way I like it and plays nice, easy jazz. He was complaining that now that he is thirty he can’t do the things he used to take for granted and he wondered what it was like for an old geezer like me. He was much kinder than that, but that’s the gist of it.

I told him that there are lot of things that I can’t do anymore, but it doesn’t pay to dwell on them. Instead just do the things you can do. Happiness does not consist in not having things that you would like to have, but in liking the things you do have. In other words, being satisfied with what you’ve got.

I am a very fortunate man, and I have a lot. Most of it has taken a great deal of hard work not just to get, but to keep. Some of it – like my salvation – has been totally undeserved grace on the part of Christ Jesus the Lord God of All. I did nothing but accept His offer. Along the way I have taken my share of abuse, from both enemies and friends, and had my share of disappointments and heartaches. I have done some things right, and I have made some mistakes. Nobody gets out of this life unscathed.

But as I enter into my old age – and sixty, while it may not be old, is the beginning of that phase – I’ve got to say that I am pretty comfortable with who I am and where I am in life. It not so much that I have done this or that, but that I have, in all that I have done, sought to live up to, at first, my own standards of what was decent, fair and honourable, and later in life, please God, who is the ultimate authority on those things.

I will not leave this life with many toys. So if that is your measure, then I obviously lose. But I am not going to bring those things with me anyway. All that I get to take is my character. I figure if I live long enough for Christ to have His way with me, then that will be worth taking.

Happy birthday, birthday boy;
You who brought your parents joy,
You who brought us smiles and laughter
Which echoes now and ever after,
That cheers us now and will forever
Lingering in our memories ever.

Happy birthday, fair-haired son;
Who loved to talk and learned to run;
Who taught us to forget ourselves
In developing enduring wealth,
In sacrifice so you would grow
A larger, kinder self to know.

Happy birthday, strong young man
Who strives and toils to sculpt the land
Who’s learned to delegate, command,
And build a future with his hands.
We marvel at the things you do
And joy to know a son like you.

Happy birthday, David. We are both so proud of you.

Memory… is the diary that we all carry about with us. ~Oscar Wilde

Thirty years ago this week at St Thomas Elgin General Hospital, first the Watter’s and then the Wise’s lives were changed forever with the birth of their first child.  It is incredible to us how quickly that time has passed and what a joy it has been to see Jon and Nicole marry and begin their own family. We are so proud of both of them and are humbled as we watch them parent Ben and Abi.  Recently they posted on their website their goals as parents and they bear repeating.

“First and foremost, we want our kids to know Jesus. We want them to know that Christianity is about a relationship with the God of all creation, who shaped them, loves them, died and rose again for them, and has a plan for their little lives that is more exciting, more amazing, and more wonderful than they could ever find on their own. (Jeremiah 29:11)

We want them to know, at a minimum, what His book, the Bible, and especially the New Testatment, teaches about how to live a healthy, compassionate, generous and righteous life. (2 Timothy 3:16-17)

We want them to understand that each and every child of God is instructed to be involved in Going. That as Christians we have a responsibility not just to our family, or our community, but to the lost and the hurting and the broken around the world. (Matthew 28:16-20)

We want them to experience the incredible adventure of Going, so that whether God calls them to be Goers or Senders, they will know the wonderous uncertainty and trembling, awstruck joy of obeying His call into the unknown and seeing how His mighty power moves mountains, lights the darkness, and changes lives from the inside out. (Romans 1:20)

We want them to know that if you’re comfortable, you’re not growing. If life is too easy, then you’re not doing enough. If your bank account is full, then you’re not giving enough. If travel means only a vacation, then you’re not seeing the world the way God does. That if you settle for the world’s best, then you miss God’s best and your life is empty. (Matthew 4:4)”

Jon and Nic put feet to thought themselves in their recent visit to Asia, and we did appreciate their interest in what we and others are doing over here for the cause of Christ. We are sorry that Pam could not be here, but that too is the price of service. We are happy that our son and his wife are following the Lord as he leads them through the next thirty years of their lives. May they be faithful to the path.

“I slept and dreamt that life was joy. I awoke and saw that life was service. I acted and behold, service was joy” Rabindranath Tagore

There is no question that this year’s ‘holiday’ in Canada was the toughest we’ve ever had. For Pam it was two months of nursing her father through the present day difficulties of health care in Canada to his burial on June 29 followed by a frantic ten days of trying to cram in enough visits with our children, grandchildren, other family and friends to make it count. I am still reeling from the rapidity of the changes, both physical and emotional that I have been thorough in the last three weeks.

But in the midst of this demanding time, there is the realization that the Lord has been with us every step of the way. Pam’s work in Cambodia had reached a place where she could suspend her efforts for two months to attend to her father. She was able to be by his side for much of that time, and share some precious moments with him and the rest of her family as they went through that sad trial. My work finished in time for me to join her at her father’s side and assist in the preparations for his funeral.

The visitation and funeral were poignant and uplifting. Dad had led such a good life. His family and friends were a testimony to his kindness and faithfulness to Christ. The service itself was filled with moments of sweet remembrances, and to see his bier attended by his ten grandsons and four granddaughters was sight so touching as to make angels weep. From the 24 hour a day watch the family kept over him, until the gathering of the details of his estate for the executor of his will, everything that occured was done in such a way as to honour this dear saint whose life had been in dedicated service to others.

We are grateful that our children could all be there to witness the passing of their grandfather. We are grateful that we ourselves were in Canada during this time. We are grateful to our family and friends who were a blessing and an encouragement to us. We are especially grateful to God who gives us the assurance that he has prepared a place for us, a place without sickness or grief, where we will see this dear man again. In all these ways, we count our blessings.

After what has surely been the most heart-rending and disorganized trip home to Canada in three years, Pam and I are on our way back to Malaysia this morning. We are spending the last night with our friend Kim McNamara in Bolton and flying out in the morning from Toronto, over the North Pole to Hong Kong. There we will catch a connecting flight to KL. We want to thank all our many friends and dear family members for their kindness to us over the past few weeks, and offer our apologies to the many folks we were unable to see this time due to circumstances beyond our control. We realized yesterday that with the exception of the one flight for me this morning, every other flight on our trip had to be changed, many at the very last minute. It has been expensive and disruptive.

Monday I start the new term, exhausted and disoriented. Trusting to the Lord to give me strength to put it all together in short order.

My Dad knew very little about his birth family beyond the fact that he was born in the humblest of circumstances in a mining town in a poor industrial area in England. He was the seventh of eight children, his two oldest siblings having died in a fire. Dad and his five sisters were placed in an orphanage when he was three and Dad spent eleven years in a Bernardo residence. Residential care reached its height in the 1930s, with 8,000 British children living in nearly 200 homes across the country. Life is the homes was run on strictly disciplined lines and children were instilled with a sense of responsibility and self-sufficiency. Children were expected to rise early and spend their waking hours cleaning their rooms, planting gardens and carrying out maintenance work.  All aspects of life were tightly controlled, family contacts were not permitted and they were not allowed to see their birth or family records.

Many, like my father, and his sister Jane were sent overseas to places like Australia and Canada where they worked as labours on farms or as domestic help, but were never adopted by the host family.  Dad arrived in Canada in 1939 at the age of 14 and was taken in by a farm family near Cornwall.  John McRae and his three sisters never married but took in a number of these children.  By the time he was 18 Dad had travelled to the west in search of adventure and work and then eventually to Toronto.  It was there, while living in rooms in a church that provided an outreach to youth on the streets that Dad met Mom. It was also through the pastor of this church that Dad was introduced to the Lord. They married in 1948 and moved to Denfield to be near my Mom’s family.

The next decade saw the birth of their seven children.  Money was scarce and for a number of years Dad provided for us by working the night shift at the Ontario Hospital and during the day working with a neighbour, building barns. Our home was pretty basic but we always had plenty of food and lots of visitors to share it with.  It was not unusual for Dad to bring home total strangers from work or church to join us for a meal – often to Mom’s horror, as she would have to scramble to come up with enough food – only to have them become lifelong family friends.

Over the 34 years that he worked at the Psychiatric Hospital Dad was given ever increasing responsibility and eventually gained the status of Registered Psychiatric Nurse. I had the privilege of starting my own nursing career in a hospital where my dad was highly respected and to hear many stories of the lives he touched there. On one occasion we were struggled to restrain a patient who was thrashing wildly about in the middle of a psychiatric episode. Without her consciously being aware of it, she lashed out and struck me across the face. Suddenly this woman – who was of a substantial size and difficult to manage with five staff – found herself bodily bustled to her room single-handedly by my father who had seen her hit me. The following day, in a more rational frame of mind, she asked what had happened. When she discovered she had hit me the previous day, she was mortified that she had struck his daughter. That was the kind of respect that my father generated from staff and patients alike.

As long as I can remember Dad took his faith in God seriously and served faithfully in every church we attended. We virtually never missed a Sunday at church even though the sixteen mile drive to London was often a challenge especially given the fact that cars were always in need of repair and the sixteenth concession was the last road to be ploughed in winter. He instilled that kind of faithfulness in me as well, and my ministry today reflects the kind of devotion to God and the duty of serving others that I learn from my father’s example.

Dad also was thrilled to be a father and especially a grandfather. Everyone of his grandchildren sitting here today knows without a shadow of a doubt that my father loved them with all his heart, and would do anything he could for them. His greatest joy was to have his grandchildren visit him. His faith in God allowed him to trust that God would look after his grandchildren no matter what the circumstances of their lives, and he had the amazing ability to see the good in each of them, and encourage them to just be themselves and let God take care of the outcome. I know that if he could speak in the last week when so many came by to visit, he would have asked how they were and spent his time talking about them rather than himself. When I asked Adam, who visited Dad three times in his last week, why he was coming, he replied that Grandma and Grandpa had always been there for him, and he wanted to be there for him.

Dad has always been there for all of us. Never once have I heard him talk about how difficult his life was or excuse himself from some obligation because he had been poorly treated as a child. Never has he allowed self-pity to rule his heart or cloud his judgement. When Mom became ill he served her faithfully all the hours of the day, so much so that he was on a first name basis with everyone in her nursing home. His life was characterized by kindness, and his heart was ruled by his love for Christ. Although the circumstances of his death have been a heartbreak for all of us, we know that he is with his Saviour who he loved, and his wife with whom he shared his life. Although there may be many people who influence our lives, each of us only have one father who gave us life. I will be eternally grateful for the father that God gave me.

Pam’s Dad passed away this morning at 9 am in the presence of family. As sorrowful as this is, it does mean an end to her Dad’s suffering, and an entrance to his eternal home. Over the last week as he has declined and family visited to say their goodbyes, Dad’s heart and lungs remained strong, allowing many to come by and spend a few precious minutes by his bedside. The family appreciates so much all of these gestures of affection and concern, and we to want to thank you for your prayers and notes.

Visistation will be at Forest Lawn Cemetary on Dundas St. East in London, Ontario on Monday afternoon from 2 to 4, and in the evening from 7 to 9. The funeral service will be held on Tuesday, June 29 at 11 am. We encourage Dad’s many friends and extended family to attend.

Dad was a wonderful man, whose family and friends are his greatest legacy. Please feel comfortable to come by and visit. If you would like to share a remembrance of an event or an interaction, you may do so through the website of the funeral home at www.mcfarlane-roberts.ca by selecting obituaries and then his name. It might take a few more hours before that is active. Dad’s notice and further information will be in tomorrow’s London Free Press. Thank you once again for your prayers. God has certainly blessed through the sad moments of the last few days, and we rejoice in His perfect will and goodness.

The move to palliative care has been a blessing. A private room became available almost immediately, confirming, if any further confirmation was needed, that this was the right decision. A change in Dad’s medication has brought about a significant improvement in his comfort level. He has not regained consciousness, however, so our goodbyes have consisted of gestures and words of comfort that we hope are having an effect at some level.

The family is keeping watch throughout the day and night, spelling each other off in a casual rotation that allows for soccer games and work schedules. The shifts overlap so information about the care that has been administered can be passed on to the next family member. Visiters have been frequent, stopping by to say their goodbyes and staying to visit for a while. These visits have been a blessing and an encouragement to the whole family.

We do want to thank all those who have dropped by either in person or through the website. If you have pictures of Dad or stories of remembrance would you please send them to us through our mail on this site: steve@spwise.com as we would like to begin to assemble a tribute.

The family met today to decide on a course of care for Pam’s father. The options have narrowed critically in the last few days as her Dad’s abilities to function have begun to fail. The neuro-surgery has resulted in physiological damage, leaving her Dad unable to swallow. As a consequence a tube was inserted into his lower intestine in order to feed him.

Unfortunately this too has failed, as his body can no longer perform peristalsis, which is a muscle movement essential to the process of moving food through the intestine. Due to this failure the food backed up into his stomach and then through the esophagus and into his lungs. An emergency procedure was able to clear the lung, but feeding by tube is no longer a viable option.

The family met to discuss the few options remaining, and it was decided to move him to palliative care and seek to reduce the meds enough to possibly produce a level of consciousness which would allow family members to say goodbye. This was a difficult conversation with a number of varying degrees of acceptance and denial. However the family is coming to grips with the inevitable while still praying for a miracle. The outlook is not good. Practically speaking we are looking at a few days more at most.