Heather and I had breakfast yesterday at Cafe Marie in Ann Arbor. They have adopted the famous line from Dead Poet’s Society, “seize the day,” as their own, using the French expression Saisir Le Jour. It was ironic given two local stories that involved untimely deaths, the first of Detroit DJ Rhonda Hart and the second a crew of doctors who died delivering an organ donation. We never know if today will be our last or not.

A man—I believe D.L. Moody—was once asked how he would spend the next 24 hours if he knew he only had one day to live. He replied, “I would plant apple trees.” Surprised, he was then asked why he would do something so ordinary during his final moments on earth. He replied, “I try to live every day as if it is my last. I plan on planting apple trees tomorrow!”

We all take life for granted. It usually takes a tragedy (or, in this case, two) for us to be reminded that life is precious and fragile.

What are you doing today? Make it count. It could be your last one. Carpe diem!

After two weeks in Cleveland, we are finally home. It is such a disorienting experience to return to “normal,” facing a huge pile of mail, a lawn long overdue for a mowing, two fantastic kids to hug, and numerous bags and suitcases to unload.

Our family of five ended the day together in our family room (before heading off to bed). How appropriate! How wonderful!

No, this isn’t a post about a creature from outer space, but I am an alien from Michigan living in Cleveland, Ohio for a few more days. In addition to reading and having some quality time with my bride, I have enjoyed the sports tickets that we obtained through the Ronald McDonald House. Last week I saw the New Jersey Nets at the Cleveland Cavaliers playoff game (the Cavs were terrible in their loss but later won the series) and Sunday I sat behind home plate (the best seats I have ever had for a baseball game!) for the Cincinnati Reds at the Cleveland Indians game (which was a decisive 5-2 victory for the home team). Now that the Pistons have a 1-0 lead over the Cavs, I am more than a little proud to be from Michigan!

Another feature of this (and last fall’s) experience has been the urban culture. The RMH and Cleveland Clinic are in the heart of a city that is quite unlike Ann Arbor (although nearby University Circle features Case Western Reserve University). Suffice it to say we are not “home.” As Dorothy said, “There’s no place like home!”

Today I finished John Burke’s excellent book No Perfect People Allowed: Creating a Come As You Are culture in the Church. Frontline was launched with the slogan “come as you are” and has always maintained a commitment of love, acceptance, and grace. Our greatest challenge may be developing meaningful relationships with people far from God.

Statistics have noted that the longer one is a Christian, the fewer non-Christian friends they typically have. Why?

In order to be salt in our world, we must get out of the saltshaker. To be light, we must invade the darkness. This is a personal challenge as I constantly find myself surrounded my Christians, despite my best efforts to do otherwise.

This may sound odd, but we have too many Christians at Frontline and I have too many Christian friends.

I don’t even like the word “Christian” as its meaning is so convoluted in our culture. I am a follower of Jesus Christ seeking to embody faith, hope, and love despite my arrogant, selfish tendencies.

I long to connect with others at different places in their spiritual journey. What about you?

Our daughter continues to progress well, now walking unassisted, albeit slowly. We are thrilled to see her regain mobility. Thanks for all of your thoughts and prayers.

Living at the Ronald McDonald House in another state is quite a departure from “normal” life. It feels as though we are able to step back and reflect on health and life, counting our blessings and taking inventory of things. We are surrounded by children and families that are experiencing things far worse, grateful for our current place, despite its challenges. One woman we met this morning has a seven year-old granddaughter that is being sent home because nothing more can be done medically to prolong her life. I am so thrilled to have enjoyed our daughter for nearly twice as long, with a projected future of both life and health.

The days are long. Without the routine of life, there are many long periods of waiting and inactivity. I am far removed from my regular work rhythms, though this is anything but a vacation. The times of reflection are such a departure from the normal noise and productivity that typically surround me. Although I find it uncomfortable, at times, there are extraordinary benefits that come as a result of seasons such as this. Despite the fact that I cannot fully know and articulate them now, I will reap them for the rest of my life.

This morning Rachel entered the Cleveland Clinic Children’s Rehabilitation Hospital in a wheelchair. After lunch, she wheeled off at 1 PM to begin her physical, occupational, and aqua therapies. That’s why we came to Cleveland, to get the intensive therapies, especially physical therapy from Hilary Baker. She is tough but caring, demanding but kind. She is becoming something of a legend at the CCCRH.

Four hours later, we were curious to see Rachel’s progress. Were we in for a surprise! She walked halfway through the hospital by herself using only a cane! No wheelchair. No crutches. No walker. Wow! There is still pain, but she can bend her knees for the first time in almost two weeks and walk slowly with a cane.

Prayer + Hilary + Rachel = Results!

We have a long way to go, but we took a big step today. Literally. Thanks for your prayers and support. They matter. They work! God is good.

Last night we arrived in Cleveland with our daughter who is at the Cleveland Clinic. It was very emotional returning to the Ronald McDonald House. We are staying in the same room where we spent three weeks last November! It is surreal to be here again.

Despite the deja vu, this experience is very different. We know our visit will be shorter. We know what to expect.

Nevertheless, it is difficult to have life interrupted again by such a mysterious condition.

God is in control…and I’m not! Thanks for your prayers and support.

Jesus’ last words in the book of Matthew are not “go” or “make disciples.” Though these commands are found in the final chapter (28), His last words are words of comfort and assurance. He said, “I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

I find it incredibly comforting that Jesus came to earth as “God with us” (Emmanuel) and left saying, “I am with you always.” Few words more profoundly convey God’s desire to know us and be in relationship with us. I’m sure Jesus’ friends were incredibly disappointed when He left this planet, yet the emergence of the Holy Spirit (Acts 2) was certainly a welcome fulfillment of God’s promise to never leave us.

The only thing worse than suffering is suffering alone. I have never experienced that. I never will.

One of the most difficult things for me to do is wait. My to-do list never seems to end, so waiting always feels to me like a waste of time. I think I need to move on and progress. Limbo is the enemy of accomplishment.

Although I do wish the microwave cooked faster and get frustrated when my cable modem doesn’t instantly download my iTunes purchases, I can be patient in the midst of daily activity. My challenge lies in the midst of uncertainty, unable to fully engage until information becomes available.

Such is the case now as we await word from The Cleveland Clinic. We thought we would’ve received a call yesterday saying that our daughter could come for treatment. Despite our repeated calls, we heard nothing. At any moment, the phone could ring, telling us to head to Ohio. Until then, we are left to wait, watching our virtually-paralyzed daughter suffer on the couch awaiting the intensive therapies that helped her last fall.

David wrote, “Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD” (Psalm 27:14).

God is worth the wait.

Still, I’m not a big fan of waiting. How about you?

After about four months of health, our daughter had a relapse of last fall’s CRPS/RSD. Please pray for healing for her as well as wisdom for us. Returning to the Cleveland Clinic Children’s Rehabilitation Hospital is a distinct possibility, though we would obviously like to stay home, if possible. Thanks for your prayers and support.