Category Archives: Family

Amazing Grays

There is a word in Greek (thaumazō) that Luke used to describe what happened when human beings witnessed the power and glory of God.  It is alternatingly translated as “to wonder, to be astonished, to be amazed, to marvel, and to be surprised”.  It is the response of the people of Bethlehem after hearing the shepherds declare the birth of the Savior and the disciples after Jesus calmed the wind and the waves.  It is how multiple people reacted to the miraculous acts of the Lord and how Peter felt when he saw the empty tomb.  Throughout the Gospels, men and women come face-to-face with the words and works of God and are amazed.  

This experience of occasional astonishment is, in my opinion, a stark contrast to those who attend our twenty first century worship services.  When was the last time you wondered at the meaning of the words found in the Scriptures or were surprised by the works of the Holy Spirit in our midst?  When was the last time God broke through the mundane and you marveled at the world around you?  In our day and age, our impressions of life on earth is more like that of the author of Ecclesiastes: there is nothing new under the sun.  Where has all the wonder gone?

I believe we get from life and from others what we expect from life and from others.  Beyond “glass-half-full/glass-half-empty” biases, we see what we want to see.  We are not surprised by God, either through His miraculous works or His marvelous words, because we do not think we will be.  Babies are born and all but the immediate family shrugs.  Healing comes to those who are sick and most of us yawn.  Accidents are avoided by random delays and we are oblivious.  Then we consider the biological functions necessary for sustaining life and the explosive power of the combustion engine, it is amazing that we “live and move and have our being”.

…and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them.  Luke 2:18

In fear and amazement they asked one another, “Who is this?”  Luke 8:25b

…and he went away, wondering to himself what had happened.  Luke 24:12b

Last weekend, with its reminders of the sacrificial death and glorious resurrection of Jesus, ought to pique our interest in the amazing.  Easter is a lasting witness to the wonderful and marvelous works and words of God.  It reminds us that while His claims may sound fantastic (i.e. based on fantasy), to our amazement they have all been proven true.  This week, in communities of faith gathered in worship and in places of solitude intended for reflection, we allowed ourselves to be amazed, if only for a moment.  I wonder what would happen if we allowed ourselves to look for the surprising every Sunday morning, or every morning for that matter.

I pray that this week you hear something amazing, see something wonderful and sense something marvelous.  Let me know when you do.

Don’t Give Me A Break

My mother-in-law, who turned ninety on the 28th of last month, had a fall at her home which resulted in her breaking six ribs.  She is currently being cared for at a wonderful hospital in Boston, but addressing her pain, which is substantial, has proven difficult.  If you were to visit her those first few days, you would hear her literally crying out to God in a loud voice; however, by all appearances, God did not reply.  The extreme discomfort of those broken ribs (which cannot be immobilized) remained and the extreme fervency of her prayers (which could not be suppressed) remained unanswered.

My mother-in-law’s condition makes me think about all those who are crying out for relief – relief from the grief or anger of loss, relief from the pain or anguish of trauma and relief from the worries and doubts of the unknown – but relief does not seem to arrive.  Is God silent when we seem to need to hear from Him the most?  Is God distant when we have the greatest hunger for His presence?  Is God uncaring when we long for the comfort that can only come from Him?  By faith, I contend just the opposite.

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.   2 Corinthians 1:3-4

Let me be the first to admit that I would appreciate my mother-in-law’s relief from her pain.  Let me also admit that I tend to be blinded by the blessings of God when burdens are right before me.  The loudest murmurs I hear are those of distress, but also present are the beeps of monitors, the hums of IV pumps and the voices of caring health professionals.  My mind plays out a number of other sounds as well: the ringing of an unanswered phone which triggered concern in a daughter’s heart, the sirens of an ambulance that brought needed assistance to a woman in need and a lecture in a medical/nursing school that equipped the doctors and nurses at the hospital to provide expert care.   These, too, are answers to prayer.

God is not silent, or distant or uncaring.  He is speaking in our circumstances, even in the pains that are not fully relieved (which might be teaching us what we ought to avoid).  He is close to us as we undergo the troubling conditions relating to our shared human nature.  He cares for us, so much so that He endured every indignity that comes with life on earth and conquered everything that causes permanent damage – sin, death and damnation.  While I would like the symptoms of this fallen existence to fade into solely painful memories, I accept that God usually comforts us in less obvious ways.

The good news is that Jeanine’s mother is slowly improving and pain killers are alleviating some of her discomfort.  I pray that God, in time, alleviates the remaining difficulties.  It is unfortunate that it takes pain to cause most of us to cry out to God.  It is truly fortunate that He hears and cares, even if we cannot sense it.

More than Snakes and Shamrock Shakes

Today is Saint Patrick’s Day and, thanks to my father’s recent genetic profile from ancestry.com, I will be celebrating the holy day with the newfound knowledge that I am 2% Irish.  There is much to commend Maewyn Succat (thought to be Patrick’s name at birth) to all believers:  he was born into a religious family, with his grandfather serving as a priest; he suffered great adversity, having been kidnapped by pirates at age 16 and then living as a slave in Ireland for 6 years; he was miraculously rescued by God, to whom he had been praying fervently for deliverance, when he was told in a dream that his ship had arrived and then walked more than 200 miles to set sail; upon reaching England, far from home, he survived starvation when a wild boar wandered into his camp; at age 40, God told him in a dream to return to Ireland with the Gospel and build His church. He gives us all a testimony of what God can do through a person committed to trusting in the Lord.

There are a number of the interesting truths about Patrick’s life.  First, he rejected the beliefs of his family for many years, but the great difficulties of his early life drew him to God with a fervent faith.  Second, he was not the first missionary to Ireland, as he succeeded another man who had come to Ireland five years before he returned to the island.  Third, one of the Patrick’s first converts from Druidism to Christianity was Milchu, the tribal chieftain who served as his master more than 20 years earlier.  Patrick was used by God in mighty ways and He utilized every aspect of Patrick’s life (both blessings and burdens) to glorify the Lord.

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.  Romans 8:28

Saint Patrick reminds me that anyone can do great things through God.  Anyone can endure a horrible past when they trust in Him.  Anyone can show the power of forgiveness when they know the forgiveness of God.  Anyone can mightily share their faith when they have experienced the grace of the Lord.   Saint Patrick reminds me that nothing is impossible with God – He is able to reach anyone through anyone by any means.  So, whether you are in the ideal location or the worst place imaginable, among the most wonderful people or the dregs of society, confident in your abilities or concerned about your inabilities, know that God can still be glorified through you.

Perhaps you will enjoy a bit of green lager or some corned beef and cabbage today.  Maybe you will wear green or kiss someone who is Irish.  Wherever and however the day finds you, I pray that we all remember the witness of a special man who God used to reach ‘the ends of the earth’ over 1,600 years ago.  And I hope in remembering his story we are reminded of our story as well.  Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

Into Each Life…

On Monday, some details of my life caused me to become discouraged.  I rarely become discouraged: while I am not what some would call an optimistic person (I have joked that my personal motto is “Expect the worst: either you’ll be right or pleasantly surprised”), but I am tenacious.  I am not in the habit of giving up.  As a sports fan, if I commit, I stay true until the final score – I will not leave a baseball game until the final out has been recorded or turn off the Super Bowl even if my rooting interest is 25 points behind.  As a home cook, I find comfort in following the recipe, even if it requires a trip to the grocery store for select ingredients.  As the pastor of a small church, I am persistent in proclaiming the truth of God’s word anticipating that on any given (Sun)day another soul will meet the Savior.  This tenacity has served to foster within me a spirit of encouragement.

But life has a way of eroding encouragement, as when mistakes (or sin) on my part conspire with unsavory elements in our society and detoured my heart and mind toward despair.  You will find no details here of what happened on Monday, only an echo of how a day of darkness made me aware of the value of seeking the light.  I have come to the conclusion that God IS with those who travel through the valley of the shadow of death.  He was with me through the loving acts of my sympathetic wife: she made sure I was eating and staying productive when all I could see was an insurmountable obstacle.  He was with me through the providence of Tuesday’s men’s Bible study on Elijah.  He brought me encouragement through His children and through His word.

“…for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust.”   Psalm 103:14

It is deeply comforting to know that God knows our physical form and remembers our physical frailties.  He knows we are not invincible, indestructible or indefatigable.  He knows we are subject to discouragement, depression and despair.  He remembers that we are weak in body, mind and spirit.  He remembers our general inability to resist the worldly and our general disinterest with the heavenly.  He knows and remembers all this…and ministers to all our needs graciously without finding fault.  He promises to give us wisdom when we lack it.  He promises to give us rest when we about to falter.  He promises to give us counsel and guidance when we are walking in darkness.  He promises to encourage those who are discouraged.

I am thankful that my times of discouragement are rare.  I am aware, also, that this is not the case for many.  If you are struggling with discouragement or depression, please take comfort in knowing that God knows how you have been formed and He cares for you.  Seek His provision, through His word and His people, to lessen your despair.  Reach out to those around you to hold you accountable in maintaining proper levels of rest, nourishment and productivity.  He will give hope to the hopeless, and He can help you.

Missed A Must

I did not go to church on Sunday.  For those who know me, I am sure this comes as a bit of a shock (honestly, my own children voiced some concern over my choice of activities on the Lord’s Day).  In my defense, we spent the day traveling back from the Baltimore area, hoping to get home by 8PM because our younger boys had to get up early for school the next day.  We felt we couldn’t wait until after noon and therefore church was out of the question.  Despite the fact that I have not missed church in nearly five years, I do not feel an ounce of guilt for not attending worship last week.church17

Before anyone says that a Pastor is teaching that we ought not feel guilty for not going to church, let me tell you why I feel no guilt – I consider attendance at church a blessing and not an obligation.  Some who are reading this, I am sure, think that going to church is something we have to do (whether we want to or not) to be right with God, sort of like taking cough medicine so that you can eliminate your chest congestion.  Instead, I think that going to church is something I need to do, sort of like going to a gas station so that I can fill up on what I need so that I will not get stranded in the middle of nowhere.

It is through corporate gatherings for worship (going to “church”) that we sing familiar and foreign tunes that remind us of our lineage of faith and doctrine.  It is through going to “church” that we catch-up with our spiritual siblings through prayer and intercession.  It is through going to “church” that we hear the word of God so that we may glorify our great Savior and be encouraged, equipped, challenged and convicted through the shared experience of receiving His grace and mercy.  It is through going to “church” that we can interact with people who God places in our lives who could be quite different, in multiple ways, than we are.   It is a gift of God that we must not take for granted.

I rejoiced with those who said to me, “Let us go to the house of the LORD.”   Psalm 122:1

While I felt no guilt for my absence from church last Sunday, I did miss being there.  It is the same feeling I get when I am invited to a party that I cannot attend, knowing that I am not going to be a part of the joyful celebration and the jovial conversation.  I missed the comradery, the communion and the compassion of our little flock of followers.  I cannot wait to catch up next Sunday.

I say all this not so those who haven’t darkened the doors of a church would feel badly, but rather to share the joys I have in getting together with people of faith as frequently as possible.  No one has been barred from heaven solely because of their church attendance record (nor has that ever been the basis for entrance).  Our passage to the heavenly places comes from Christ alone.  Going to church helps to remind us of what we have to look forward to when we get there.

The Stories of Our Lives

As we have for the previous four awards seasons, my wife and I watched, in local theaters and in our living room, the nine movies nominated for the Academy Award’s Best Picture.  This year we were enchanted by a western, a musical, a science fiction thriller, a play adaption, a war epic, a biographical film, a coming-of age story, a historical narrative and a tear jerker.  Each film introduced us people facing challenges different (sometime much different) than our own.  Each movie gave us something to talk about and wrestle with after we viewed it.  And while the process of spending twenty or so hours watching movies may not appeal to everyone, it is a treat and a blessing to my wife and me.    oscar

Invariably, when the conversation turns to our project of seeing these Best Picture nominees, I am asked the question: what do you think will win?  I have some trouble answering that, in part because artistic expression (and that is ultimately what all these movies are) is so subjective, and in part because every film (well, maybe with one exception) had elements of greatness.  What do I think will win?  The Academy will likely choose Lalaland.  What do I think is overall the best picture for 2016, from among those nominated?  This is a much more complicated question.

As I answer this question, I feel that I can eliminate half the nominees from my personal best:  Arrival was good, especially in its character development and the deep conversation that followed was profound, but not great; Fences, with its exceptional acting performances, was too dialogue driven for my taste; Lalaland was artistically stunning but slow and lacked a plot for about a third of the film; and I found Moonlight, despite its important story, too confusing.  I appreciate all these films and the questions they produced in me: what would life be like if we were not constricted by time?  How do our dreams and failures shape our lives?  Can love conquer all?  Can we truly escape our environment?

The other five (Hacksaw Ridge, Hell or High Water, Hidden Figures, Lion and Manchester-by-the-Sea) were better stories more beautifully told with exceptional acting.  These five, at any given moment, fluctuate in my mind as best.  They represent characters who are each faced with challenges (trying to save lives while others are taking them, fighting foreclosure, battling racial injustice, finding a way back home and overcoming an unfair and tragic past), overcoming them, to a greater or lesser degree.  There are images and elements of each of these works of art that will remain with me for quite a while – moments of extreme pain and moments of overwhelming joy.  At this moment, I offer my opinion and would recommend you seeing Hacksaw Ridge, my choice for Best Picture.

For from him and through him and for him are all things.  To him be the glory forever!  Amen.   Romans 11:36

I do not say this simply because it is the most “faith-based” of the nominees, but because it is the most beautifully shot and compelling story captured on film.  All these films, from my personal favorite to my personal worst, have elements which provoke my pastoral side. Each one is worth seeing so that their narratives, whether true or fictitious, can enable us to walk in the shoes of another for 140 minutes or can afford us the opportunity to experience life in a way that we would never experience on our own.  We are surrounded by people broken by society and bruised by circumstance, and it is good to be reminded once in a while that we can overcome poverty, tragedy, rejection, oppression, prejudice and even the occasional success.  In every story our lives tell, no matter our faith system or lack thereof, God has a marvelous way of breaking in and then shining through the cracks the world inflicts upon us.  We all have a story to tell, one worthy of an Academy Award.

God and the Gridiron

The other night as I was reflecting on the fact that the New England Patriots had just won their fifth Super Bowl©, it made me think of God’s grace and guidance. Sure, as a Pastor, I often connect random occurrences in life with Biblical themes; the progression of Sunday’s game and its outcome makes my job easy.  For the Patriots, this was a season which required the team to deal with consequences for bad actions, demonstrated determination when excuses might have been easier and exemplified fortitude and the discipline of finishing strong.  These are things we all could afford to reflect upon, and learn from, as we face the struggles of life.edelman

As even the casual football fan knows, Tom Brady was suspended for the first four games of the season ultimately due to his refusal to cooperate with the NFL Commissioner’s investigation into “Deflate-gate”.  After a lengthy process involving the courts, Brady agreed to accept his suspension, albeit with no admission of guilt.  He then was forced to sit out the first four games of the season.  While we can argue, and many have, about the fairness of the Commissioner’s decision, it was what it was.  Tom Brady, and the team, suffered the consequences of his actions.  Then he was restored to active status and played the remainder of the season.  As I saw the Commissioner shake TB12’s hand and later hand him the Super Bowl© MVP trophy, I thought about grace.  To an even greater degree than the NFL brass and its players, God is correcting and rebuking His children and then, after confession and contrition has been made, fully and completely restores them, separating their sin as far as the east is from the west.  Do the crime, do the time, receive forgiveness and restoration, and go back out and compete.

Before the big game was played, it was reported that Tom Brady’s mother had been battling an undisclosed illness for eighteen months.  Also, the Patriots had suffered significant injuries throughout the regular season, including an injury which sidelined their most powerful offensive weapon, Rob Gronkowski.  No one would have blamed the Patriots if they had said that this was not their year, that the obstacles were too great and the challenges were too overwhelming.  Instead, the team worked hard, utilized “lesser” members, and seized victory.  To an even greater degree, God is drawing together and equipping His church to claim victory over darkness.  He has brought together a wide variety of people with a wide variety of abilities, all broken in one way or another, to become stronger together than they would ever be separately.  Do your job, do it to the best of your ability, trust those around you and taste victory.

Even the most optimistic ‘homer’ in New England may have thrown in the towel at six and a half minutes into the third quarter when the Falcons took a commanding 28-3 lead.  It is almost inconceivable that the Patriots (who had scored 3 points in the first 36:29 of the game) could score 25 points in the remaining 23:31 of regulation.  It is almost equally inconceivable, given the difficulties they had on defense, that they could hold the Falcons scoreless for the remainder of the game.  But that is exactly what happened – touchdown, field goal, touchdown, two-point conversion, touchdown, two-point conversion.  Tie game.  Overtime.  Touchdown.  Champions.  The accolades and the prize goes to those who finish strong.  To an even greater degree, that is the attitude God desires in us.  God’s people ought not to start strong and ultimately give out, but finish strong and ultimately win out.

Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize?  Run in such a way as to get the prize.   1 Corinthians 9:24

Congratulations to the World Champion New England Patriots.  I am grateful to God that He can use such an earthly endeavor as a football game to remind us of His great plans and hopes for us.

Baggage Claim

As part of a roundtable discussion group, I met with a dozen or so other ministry leaders on Wednesday to discuss a recent New York Times best-seller:  Hillbilly Elegy by J.D. Vance.  It is a wonderful memoir of Vance’s upbringing in a dysfunctional extended family in Appalachia.  At first, without going into the details, let me tell you that I resonated with the narrative Vance weaved around households riddled with abuse, addiction and hopelessness.  It brought me back in time to my childhood and I immediately thought that I alone saw parallels between the author’s life and my own.  It turns out that a degree of dysfunction is universal.hillbilly

Few homes house perfect families.  Parents argue – some quite loudly – and even use foul language.  Drug and alcohol addiction cannot be restricted to particular regions of the United States.  Serial divorce and remarriage is not limited to one social stratum.  Nearly every family tree contains a branch (or several branches) that were established through unwed or teenage mothers.  There are few families who have not been effected by mental illness, whether it is an immediate family member battling depression or a suicidal extended relation.    To some degree, we all carry similar baggage, given to us in childhood and carried into adulthood.

In reading and reacting to this book, I realized that the homes in my neighborhood – as well as the pew in the churches in our community – are filled with people with baggage from their upbringing.  As the saying goes, “You don’t know what you don’t know”; because almost no one shares all the challenges they are attempting to overcome, we rarely know the whole story.   This requires us to treat one another with compassion, what the Greek bible writers call “splanchnizomai”.  Those who have a medical education might be aware that the root ‘splanchno-’ relates to the visceral organs (the guts).  So we, as human beings and as God’s people, ought to get a knot in our stomachs, an intestinal distress, as we interact with those navigating rough waters in a leaky rowboat.

Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice.  Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.   Ephesians 4:31–32 (NIV)

Before we dismiss those who buy bottles of soda with food stamps as unfit, perhaps we ought to feel compassion for their situation, recognizing that milk and juice are often options too expensive for their budget and perhaps then offer to pick up a gallon of milk for them.  Before we roll our eyes at the hopeless and jobless as we utter the words, “Get a job,” perhaps we ought to feel compassion for their situation, recognizing that education is not the same as intelligence and access to opportunity is not equally available to all classes and cultures and perhaps offer to share some social capital with those without any of their own.  There are already enough people in the world willing to judge others; we could empathize instead and bring help and hope to those who need it.

We have the privilege of sharing – with those who feel unloved, those who title themselves worthless and those who have heard that they would never amount to anything – the fact that they are loved, they have worth and they can accomplish great things.  We have the privilege to bring grace – unmerited favor – to those who know little more than heartache.  We can share our struggles and listen to theirs, knowing that God cares for us and will comfort us in our times of need.  We are all broken, at least a little.  But praise God: He makes us whole.

Teasures in the Snow

When you spend more than twelve hours on the road, driving from Maryland to Massachusetts, you have a great deal of time to think.  Because of the weather conditions last Saturday, our 382 miles trip took much longer than I anticipated.  It was a challenging and stressful drive over snowy and slushy highways.  The satellite radio and the DVDs from Redbox© made the travelling a bit more bearable while I focused on the road ahead.  Throughout the journey, my thoughts turned to lessons about life and living, some superficial and some profound.snow17

The first lesson I learned was that I ought not trust forecasts.  We live in a society saturated in information, including phone apps that will show you live weather radar and predictions for storm patterns.  As we were anticipating our trip home from Jeanine’s brother’s funeral, I watched and listened to meteorologists in Baltimore (via television) and Boston (via phone app) predicting that the storm was expected to move beneath us and travel out to sea before blowing into Massachusetts via the Cape.  New Jersey, Westchester County and Western Connecticut were supposed to be spared more than a dusting.  No such luck was to fall upon us.  The computers were wrong and the storm took a more western course, forcing us to face light but accumulating snow every minute of our trip.  Experts are not always correct.

I also learned that there are times, rare but right, that staying with others while disregarding the letter of the law is the proper course of action.  Most of the highways we traveled (The New Jersey Turnpike, Garden State Parkway and Interstates 87, 287, 84 and 90) were three lanes in either direction.  In the worst of conditions, these throughways became two sets of ruts travelling along the divided white lines.  At times there was a series of 15 or so cars, all moving at 45 mph, all illegally crossing over their lanes and maintaining the safety of the roads.  Obedience to the law is not always best.

There is a way that appears to be right, but in the end it leads to death.   Proverbs 14:12

The biggest lesson I learned was that I could stand to be more humble.  Early on in the process, I made the decision to return to work on Sunday.  We made our plans based on my choice to be home Saturday night.  Throughout our time away I saw weather reports and I remained resolute.  I received texts from people in the church advising me to reconsider and I remained resolute.  My wife wanted me to change our plans and I remained resolute.  I unnecessarily risked everything to show that I was right, but I was wrong.  I feel that needs to be stated again: I was wrong.  I was proud.  I have since apologized to my wife and children for my arrogance.  I am not always right.

Thank God that we, despite my own foolishness, arrived safely at home.  In hindsight, I should have listened to those around me, led by the Spirt, instead of listening only to myself.  There was a way that appeared to me to be right, and it certainly could have led to disaster.   I am fortunate that I had the opportunity to learn these lessons and not harmed by the consequences of my unwise haughtiness.  Let’s hope that you and I can all learn from my stupidity.

Farewell, Stephen

This morning we will be attending the funeral of my brother-in-law, Stephen V. Silva.  Last Friday, in the early morning hours, Steve lost his battle with cancer at the age of fifty-four.  He was a wonderful son, brother, husband, father, uncle and grandfather.  He was a good man and he will be missed – he was warm and loving, considerate and caring toward those around him.  Today is a day of great sorrow for all those who knew Stephen.  There is a small bit of solace in knowing that his physical suffering, ever increasing for the last thirty-seven months, has ceased.steve

A few months ago, I wrote that the three toughest words I am forced to utter are “I don’t know.”  Occasionally, I feel the need to defend God – when tragedy strikes or suffering comes to call – from the charge that He is unloving or uncaring or unfair.  Honestly, especially on a day like today, I am immensely inadequate to the task.  I cannot explain to my mother-in-law why she is called upon to bury a second child.  I cannot give reason which makes sense of this loss to my sister-in-law or my wife.  I am at a loss to rationalize why some cancers enter remission and others do not.  I simply do not have all (or even most of) the answers.

I do know that God comforts those who mourn.  There is not a single tear that falls from a single cheek that He is not mindful of.  While I cannot explain the problem of pain, I am certain of God’s promise to be near those who are sorrowful.

I do know that God promises an end to suffering.  There will come a day when all things will be made right and sin, death and disease will vanish.  While I cannot tell you when the pain will cease, I do know that God promises it will.

I do know that God has conquered death through His son.  All those who trust in Jesus as Lord and Savior will never truly die and we will see them again in glory.  I cannot state with certainty when death will be ultimately vanquished, I know it will happen.

And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look!  God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them.  They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God.  ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes.  There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”   Revelation 21:3-4

Today, Stephen’s family, co-workers, neighbors and friends will share in their collective grief.  Tomorrow, many tears will be shed.  For many days ahead, the pain of loss will be palpable.  I trust that God will be with those mourn and, eventually, there will be a sense of ‘new’ normalcy.  Until that day comes, I ask for your prayers for my wife’s family.  I ask that you’d remember Bohuska, Stephen’s wife of over 30 years; Michael, Anthony, Stephanie, and Jonathan, his children; Lilly, Gionni, and Sage, his grandchildren; Pauline, his mother; and Natalie and Jeanine, his sisters.