It’s been a month.

I have opened a new section on my blog: The Stroke Season. This allows me to have the things I posted during Carol’s journey in one, easily accessible spot. They cover a period of ten and a half months, from the stroke’s onset to her home-going.

It’s not about me.

Maybe my words can somehow be helpful to others in their seasons of loss. It’s what I tried to say at Carol’s memorial service:

Our losses are not meant to subtract from our witness for the Gospel. On the contrary, God means for them to mature the uniqueness of our witness as we touch other lives with our trust, our hope, and our full assurance of salvation through the Lord Jesus Christ.

Have you embraced him as your Lord and Savior?

Jesus’ words are still true. When he rose again on the third day, he added weight and veracity to every word he spoke. Listen again to what he said:

John 14:1-6 (ESV) “Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. [2] In my Father's house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? [3] And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also. [4] And you know the way to where I am going.” [5] Thomas said to him, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” [6] Jesus said to him,

“I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”

A well-attended, Christ-honoring service, including personal testimonies about Carol… with a great slide show at the end with lots of sweet Carol pictures. I hope you enjoy the video below:

RIP - REST IN PEACE?

It’s a phrase borrowed unthinkingly from the religious world. It’s used to express a person’s wish for the departed: May Carol find peace for her soul… final rest from the struggles and pain of her earthly journey.

In Spanish: “que descanse en paz” clearly appears in the subjunctive mode. It’s not a statement of fact, like “she’s at peace now.” It’s an expression of a wish, a desire… we hope she finds peace. How many people saying “rest in peace” would it take to improve Carol’s well-being in the afterlife?

It’s not an appropriate phrase, especially in the case of someone like Carol.

One of her go-to phrases has always been: “We can trust God.” The reason for that trust is more solid than the concrete in the foundation of a house. There is no wiggle room in the Gospel. No part of what we do here helps God to save us for eternity; once in Christ, nothing we do or don’t do prompts God to dump us.

Jesus said…

“All that the Father gives me will come to me, and whoever comes to me I will never cast out.” (John 6:37 ESV)

A lot happens when we come to Jesus. Carol came to Jesus when she was a child; she cemented that relationship in her college years when she realized what “Jesus, Lord of my life” should look like. And there you have the foundation for Milt and Carol as missionaries in Japan… then their final 8 years in Okinawa.

It’s also part of why Carol married a weird guy like me in 2018. We’d both lived far from our homeland for the same 2 reasons: 1) Jesus is Lord. 2) He said “Go!”

Before we married we faced our reality head-on. The probability of lots of wedding anniversaries was somewhat lower for us than for couples marrying in their 20’s. Whether the Lord gave us 2 days, 2 months, or 2 decades together, we determined—by the grace of God—to simply praise him and say thank you.

“For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.” (2 Corinthians 5:1 ESV)

“…so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life.” (2 Corinthians 5:4 ESV)

That’s what the vigil of recent days has been about. Far from anguish or despair or bitterness at her parting, we lift our heads, open our hands palms upward, and we repeat one of Carol’s favorite Japanese phrases: ”We humbly and gratefully receive it.”⁠^⁠1

RIP - RESTING IN PEACE!

**Information about a celebration service for Carol to follow.

She was sitting up in the recliner next to her bed. A dear friend was with her before lunch. The professional cleaning team was there when I arrived… lots of commotion. Nina (care provider) brought her some popcorn; I brought my sandwich from home (organic whole wheat, butter, peanut buttter and hot sauce)… and coffee (Peet’s dark roast, freshly brewed with my trusty AeroPress).

After the popcorn, we put the recliner all the way back. Carol napped for a stretch. She woke with a cloudy look on her face, gazing at the ceiling. I sensed it was time to ask again: “Anything on your mind?” “Yes,” She said.

I had to lean in to catch the rest. In a voice just above a whisper she asked: “Is this how it’s going to be?” I knew what she meant: I’m not going to get better, am I? I was struck by how brave she was to ask. I think she knew the answer, but needed to hear me talk about it.

My response wasn't planned. Having to answer delicate questions spontaneously is one of my many weaknesses. So here I am trying to organize yesterday’s thoughts in a more coherent manner… for future reference… and maybe for anyone else facing a similar scenario.

I leaned in so she could see me better. Eyeball to eyeball we were, as I struggled for the appropriate tone and words. I had to remember, first of all, our mutual agreement at the outset: We would not lie to each other. We would not hide things from each other. So… yes, Carol, It looks like this is the way it's going to be until the end.

But let’s remember…

The Lord has us every moment in his embrace. It’s who he is. It’s what he promised.

We gave our hearts to him all those years ago because we knew we’d have to be ready for this someday. Well, someday is here now. But, because of his grace, we’ve been ready for quite a while.

Remember how we’ve reveled in the providential hand of God over our lives? We couldn’t have made “us” happen, even if we’d had the vaguest clue that one another existed. Well, his grip on our lives has not slipped; his hand in orchestrating our present and our future is just as loving, nuanced, and personal as it’s always been. God will give us the grace to embrace this season too.

In moments like these, Carol, I’m careful about how I try to encourage you. You see, I’ve never been where you are now— body shut down, dependent on others for everything, struggling with words—not with finding them, but with gathering the strength to get them out.

You need to know how much your testimony means to people around you—beginning with me. I learn from you. You encourage me. You are an example of how to handle such life-altering calamities. I've not had to deal with these things personally—yet. When it’s my turn, your example will be there for me.

Remember Carol, you are touching many other lives also. Everytime someone comes to see you, they are greeted with the brightest eyes and biggest smile anyone could hope for. Sometimes people ask if you remember their visit or their words. Yes, you do! If I ask if you had visitors this morning, you usually say, “I don’t remember.” If I ask if “so-and-so” came to see you this morning, I get a bright-eyed “yes” with a big smile.

The blog I posted about you 3 weeks ago (The Lingering Season) has generated double the number of hits for anything else I’ve written. You are known, admired, prayed for… beyond what we realized. God is using you—no surprise—even in this season of your life.

But, there’s still so much more to this, isn’t there? The nearly unbearable heaviness of our journey in these clay pots will one day be lifted and replaced with something “beyond all comparison.”

Why do we linger?

I know I’m not the first one to ask the question. Plus, I’ve been here before.

Some 10 years ago, a similar season in Linda’s life was upon us. As things wound down for her, I recall a moment at Violeta’s house during the ladies’ Bible study in Cancun. Linda was upset, almost angry. What was wrong? She’d been feeling “broken” for a long time (her pain levels were beyond description). She was ready to go… disappointed the Lord had not called her home yet. She was home with him a week later.

Carol’s major stroke is not the first health issue she has dealt with. But this certainly has been a life-altering event. From socially active with lots of words and joy, independent and industrious… to trapped in a body which is now her prison. As her body weakens, the lights remain on inside. Some days, it feels like she’s at the threshold, knocking on heaven’s door. Other days—like yesterday—we have one of those good conversations we’ve grown so accustomed to. Today was more about pain management.

If you know Carol, you know how much she loves Jesus. She’s never been shy about it. So why this? Why now?

I call it the Lingering Season. Maybe by defining it more succinctly, it might be easier to recognize and embrace it. I think we’re meant to draw strength from it today… and for however many days we’ve been allowed providentially to be a part of it.

There is quite a range of things to consider:

The financial burden might be overwhelming (amazingly, not in Carol’s case, though). The physical demands of caregiving may be beyond any particular family member’s abilities (Sadly, true in Greg’s case).

Daily advocacy is needed for the ones who can’t always speak up for themselves. Or, even if they can, who’s there in case they are ignored? “Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord”… they’ve also seen the dark corridors of elder abuse.

Our most valuable asset is our time. The best gift family and friends can give is their regular visits and thoughtful conversation. Remember: the elderly and infirm are not to be regarded less because their physical abilities are less. They can’t go to you, but you can go to them.

But in the Lingering Season, there’s more than just the practical side of things. There are deeper things to be searched out, understood, and acted upon:

We shouldn’t waste time asking, “Why me?”

Even in this season, the providential hand of our Lord at every turn is amazing to look back on. A shining example for me is how a room in an adult care home opened up just hours before rehab kicked Carol to the curb. The home where she has been since the first of the year has been all about love, hygiene, and personal attention. Things have been orchestrated way beyond our ability to make them happen. Why should we freak out about what might happen tomorrow?

Maybe it’s about giving those of us still full of life the opportunity to give back to those who have given so much for us. More than duty, commitment, obligation… we should feel honored to be entrusted with such a role.

Maybe it’s about mercy extended to those of us who have left things unresolved or who have meaningful things yet to say to the one nearing the time of their crossover. I’ve watched too many people be consumed by inconsolable grief for either not having the chance to speak up or for refusing to speak up while they had the chance.

Maybe what we go through (both care-receiver and caregiver) is meant to keep us all grounded… meek… humble… reverent in the presence of God and our fellow man. Let’s not fritter away our health and mental acumen on all the stuff that will only disappear as quickly as we will.

Maybe it’s about discovering the profound joy of anticipation. Dying is probably going to hurt… deeply. But what will it be like to wake up on the other side? “Christ in us, the hope of glory.” But hope realized means no more need of hope, no more need of faith… only stripped down, undiluted, unconditional, infinite love from God to us. Forever and ever, amen.

Maybe… no, no maybes about this one. Every painful breath drawn by a believer in Christ accrues eternal compensation. People hurting now will sooooo NOT hurt forever. Won’t we rejoice?

Hear the words of an old, old hymn:

“Some bright morning when this life is o’er, I’ll fly away
To that home on God’s celestial shore, I’ll fly away”

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Carol’s journey took an unexpected turn 6 months ago today. The onset of a major stroke began on a pre-dawn Monday morning, November 07. For days, I didn’t think she would see the outside of a hospital again.

For me, it was a crash course in how to navigate the labyrinth you call health care—and elder care—in the United States. Harrowing, disjointed, compartmentalized, bureaucratic… the opposite of holistic and personal. I felt like I had fallen down a rabbit hole with Alice.

Having had time to regroup and collect our thoughts, we have had good conversations about what our life together looks like now.

We embrace the new season… with the same panache we demonstrated in the previous ones. Today is as preordained as birth, youth, adulting, maturing and aging. It is what it is. How we react to it will not change it; but how we react to it will affect our witness for the One who is preparing us for so much more than pain-free, temporal wellness.

We embrace the inevitable… “the sand runs out.” Death is creeping in, our bodies advertise its nearness. The God who made us to inhabit this temporal life in equally temporal bodies is also the One who numbered our days. We’ll be outta here soon… and forgotten shortly thereafter.

We embrace the victory… death comes to us all. But, we’re not approaching the hour of our demise… the once-for-all sacrifice and bodily resurrection of the Son changed all of that. He conquered death. Death is swallowed up in victory.

We’re very close now to our moment: our grand entrance into his glorious kingdom. I don’t know if there will be a red carpet, but it will be our time to shine. Not our moment in the sun, not our 15 minutes of fame… but to shine like never before, to shine like the stars, to shine longer than eons of shining stars… to shine forever.

“When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written: “Death is swallowed up in victory.”” (1 Corinthians 15:54, ESV)

“But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” (1 Corinthians 15:57, ESV)

“Then the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father.  Matthew 13:43 ESV

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It’s been quite a journey. Are we there yet? You know… to wherever it is God is leading us? Tragedy strikes… we wonder all over again, “What is God preparing us for now? Where does this lead? Too often, I fear, we default to our natural, pre-Christian setting: I trust God to change my circumstances—to take away my pain—so I can relax and enjoy him again.

Trust that he is doing a deep work in your life, and ask him to show you his presence and provision.

And when you do, perhaps your perspective will change. Perhaps you’ll discover that dependence truly is the promised land, because God has become even more precious to you.1

"Dependence truly is the promised land.” That’s where God is leading us. We can live there today… and every day. If we do, our baseline response to everything—against all odds—never changes. Never.

Greg wants to keep blogging. I still have much to share, especially in areas like Christ-centeredness, healthy worldview, relationships, discipleship, and what the Great Commission2 should mean for all of us.

I’ll start by sharing someone else’s words on a topic I find alarmingly neglected.

Jennifer Greenberg is a consistent, credible voice where far too often the default setting is to deflect and sweep under the rug. I admire her bravery. Please hear her and check out other posts on her Substack blog.

Jennifer Michelle Greenberg

Sex Won't Save You

If you missed the recent TGC article, Sex Won’t Save You, by Joshua Ryan Butler, consider yourself blessed and highly favored by God. The resultant brouhaha of outraged responses on social media was the PR equivalent of a natural disaster. As an abuse survivor myself, I found the piece triggering and disturbing. As a woman, I found it objectifying, and …

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3 years ago · 19 likes · 10 comments · Jennifer Michelle Greenberg

And now from me:

I’m trying to catch up on my Spanish blog, particularly my Sobremesa series. As I worked on translating the 8th installment, I also updated the English version. Here are the links for them.

Refreshing the Bones...

Sobremesa viii.

My failed attempts at disciple-making have been less about a lack of knowledge and more about my lack of brokenness. Our call to make disciples is not enigmatically embedded in the Bible. There’s no secret code to decipher. Jesus was straightforward about it…

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5 years ago · 2 likes · 2 comments · Greg & Carol

Refrescando los Huesos

Sobremesa VIII…

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3 years ago · 3 likes · Greg & Carol

My new book: My Journey: Steadfast and Evolving went live on Amazon in the days following Carol’s stroke. I’ve not done anything yet to promote it. The first chapters offer a picture of who I am. A later chapter in the book is called “I Said No In Thunder”. It describes an important part my journey. The chapter ends like this:

My Journey Out from Under

From lost to found 
From form to substance 
From trivial to essential 
From doing to being 
From rigid to genuine 
From rote to refreshment 
From persevering to joyful.

If I were asked to return to where I started, I, too, would say no in thunder. I was a dog on a short chain. And now there's no chain. 

Smith, Greg. My Journey: Steadfast and Evolving (p. 135). Kindle Edition. 

More Books:

Her Song to Sing chronicles her daughter April’s journey through cancer and Carol’s walk alongside her. A message of courage and comfort as we travel the twists and turns of life this side of heaven.

Assertively Apolitical

I have no agenda, only the hope my words might foster reflection and healthy conversation. To that end, this edition of ASSERTIVELY APOLITICAL includes reflection questions to help generate critical thinking and guide discussions with others.

Two events took place at the same time. Carol had a major stroke. My new book was published on Amazon.

I’m not implying they were of equal weight… not even close. I would gladly destroy the book and leave it forever unwritten if I could undo Carol’s stroke.

At first, they seemed at odds, but I’ve been forced to remember they are not. Together, they form one more proof that life is messy.

• Fitness and infirmity do battle— infirmity always wins.

• Lofty dreams and bitter disappointments shape who we are.

• Failures and accomplishments meld in everyone’s life.

• Joy in achievement blanches before others’ pain.

• Stolen loves morph into unsatisfied longings.

• Treasure in earthen vessels… I’m sure I’ve read that somewhere.

Carol is part of the book’s story—part of why it was completed. It’s hard not to write when the “Super-encourager” in her recliner around the corner is waiting for the next installment.

The book is part of her story. Carol did yet another editing run-through on Thursday, our last full day in Cannon Beach, OR. Monday morning, she couldn’t talk or write.

I love how we live life to the fullest. Our parameters changed on November 7th. No trips planned to the coast for now, but I’ll take Carol’s beaming smile when I walk into her room over Haystack Rock every day of the week.

So, as I invite you to try my book, I do so with a clear-eyed view of how cloudy life is… always is. It’s Jesus Christ, our living hope, who gets us out of bed in the morning… and keeps us joyful against all odds.

Three versions available:

Paperback in color for $20.00 (the minimum required by Kindle Direct Publishing for printing in color).

Paperback B&W for $9.99.

Kindle version for $8.99.

The Kindle version is the best deal—images in color, great formatting, and I love the way the footnotes work. But if you’re like me and prefer a book made from trees and ink, I’d go for the B&W version.

MY JOURNEY: STEADFAST AND EVOLVING