I’d been through the training. I’m also pretty good when it comes to this sort of thing. Finally, I had the get-out-of-jail-free card in my pocket — the phone number of the guy who built the system. He worked with far more complicated apparatuses on a daily basis. I was ready.

Air Gaps

It was my first time setting up the sound system for Church. You know the kind — the big board with all the knobs and sliders. It looks intimidating — there is a whole lot to know. Oh, let’s be honest — it IS intimidating! I arrived early and set about plugging in the board, extension cords, and the rest. It took time because the event was in our multi-use space. We had to set up and tear down every time.

I followed my training. I hit ever switch. I saw the appropriate blinking lights that indicated power, input, and that the whole system was set up properly. Except it wasn’t. There was no sound. I pushed buttons. I flipped switches. I moved sliders — Nothing. Not even the buzz of electronic energy coursing through the speakers. Something was amiss.

Thankfully, in moments like these, my ego is a pushover. I pulled out that get-out-of-jail-free card and dialed up Larry. He talked me through things. And it became clear that the best solution was for him to come over to church. Let me try to explain some higher level electrical engineering in as simple of terms as I can. In order for the speakers to drive sound into the room, they have to be connected. The speaker cables need to be plugged into the output line. Of course, I’m joking about the complexity of this problem. A system will never reach its intended outcome if it isn’t plugged into the source. It has to be attached. Speakers don’t work without the cable. Larry described the issue as an “air gap.” It wasn’t a closed loop system. We plugged in the cables (before muting the output, but the way — mistake number 2!) and we were in business. After apologizing over and over again to Larry for taking his time for such a simple and silly fix. As is always the case, Larry is graciously patient with me. But the lesson still rings in my ear whenever I set up a new system — are there any air gaps?

Power, Subordination, and the Mysteries

The same is true in discipleship. We need to close all the air gaps in our faithful following of Jesus. Put simply, are you plugged in to the power? So much of the reading and writing about discipleship is focused on really good things. There are so many tips and tricks to help you read your bible more often and with more depth. There are resources upon resources to help you grow in your life of prayer. Heck, even I wrote a short eBook on 10 life hacks to help you follow Jesus more closely (which you can download for free by signing up for my email list here). These things are not bad. They are, in fact, really good. I celebrate with you and encourage you at every step you take deeper into a dependent relationship with Jesus. However, is there an air gap? Are you plugged into the power?

So much of discipleship — and again, these are good things — focuses on our work and effort. Discipleship inherently is our work in response to God. Of course, as I found out with our sound system, running on our own power and failing to plug in will leave you unfulfilled. Sacramental Discipleship seeks to set our works of faithfulness in their appropriate place — subordinate to the savior. Sacraments are all about God’s work on our behalf. They are the vehicles that bring God’s power into our souls. Sacraments are the mysteries that cling to us, proclaim the Gospel over us, and empower us with the Holy Spirit. The sacraments are inherently about God’s work, not ours. In the Lutheran tradition, the sacraments include baptism and communion. It is these gifts that are given to the church by Jesus himself. They put meat on our bones, air in our lungs, and a song of praise on our lips. Baptism and Communion are not about our work. They are about God’s gift. And they tell the story of Christ’s love and sacrifice. Sacramental disciples propel their works of obedience from these means of grace.

“Abide in me as I abide in you.” ~ Jesus, John 15:4

Discipleship only works if you remain plugged into the power source. Air Gaps in discipleship are devastating. At best they lead to stagnation. At worst they lead to the destruction of a person and the people God gathers together. I believe wholeheartedly that discipleship will be central to the ongoing expansion of God’s kingdom. However, discipleship is always subordinate to the sustaining, enriching, empowering, and redemptive work of Jesus. Discipleship must always be born out of a direct link to the power at work among God’s people. And this is most clearly evident in the gifts of water, wheat, and wine.

The invitation is simple. Come back to the Font. Return to the Altar. At these places, God reminds us again and again that it is far more about His power than yours. It is about His obedience, not yours. It is about His ability to show up every time, not yours. As you remember your baptism and as you are fed by His body and blood, you are empowered. You are forgiven. You are embraced. And you are sent. On your way rejoicing. And on your way discipling — until your return to the source of your power again next week. May God close all the air gaps in His ongoing dance with you.

Enough. I’ve had enough. I can be pretty patient — sometimes. But I have my threshold. Have you been there? Some irritant has been bubbling under the surface until it finally erupts. There have been so many times when a low volume droning squeal has been polluting the air for a long time before I realize it. It is easy for me to say enough to Political ads; partisan politics; and divisive discourse. Or it takes me forever to realize that the TV volume in the other room is abnormally loud. I’ve ignored a headache until it is finally at a level of pain that makes me stand up and get the Tylenol. Have you ever had enough?

When the Meter Runs Out

I really don’t like parking meters. It’s not that I mind paying for parking — though I’m not a huge fan of it. What I don’t like is paying for an estimated time of stay. Parking meters get in the way of my spontaneity. What if this stop is extra fun and we decide to stay longer? What if the service at the restaurant is super slow? What if the show is sold out and we are back to our car in 5 minutes? I don’t like overpaying. But nor do I like having to set the alarm on my phone and walking back out to feed the meter. I don’t like that I have to know ahead of time when I’ve had enough time. I also don’t love digging through crevices in my jeep to find loose change.

Parking meters have a countdown timer that declares when it’s had enough. Sometimes I think a similar visual readout would be helpful for people. A gauge that is displayed for all to see to know just how thin they are being worn. Something that clearly states — my fuse has been lit and it is dangerously short. Wouldn’t it be helpful if we were more aware of when people had had enough?

For example, growing up it was clear who held the keys to the car. My dad. And, as such, there was a clear pattern. When Dad was ready to go — it was time to go. The egg timer went off in his brain and it was time to exit stage left. There was no negotiating and no stalling for extra time. My siblings and I use to laugh with each other as we watched the needle of my dad’s antsiness start to rise. As a successful businessman who was used to productive and efficient meetings and conversations, his tolerance for social gatherings or wasted time was lower than most. More than once he would stand up in the middle of a conversation and announce that it was time to go. He had had enough.

A Volumestat?!

Or, I think I would benefit from a thermostat that controlled volume instead of temperature. You see, silence is a rare commodity in my life. Our house is noisy. Really noisy. Our dog howls way too often — you can ask our neighbors. The electronic screens, even with their volume buttons, seem to mysteriously increase their output regularly. With 6 kids, someone is always talking. Or whining. Or crying. Or asking for something. With a 2 story house, it is far easier to yell to get people’s attention than to climb the stairs. Our house gets loud. And, too often, I am unaware of my rising “enough” meter. The “volumestat” has exceeded its maximum threshold. I’ve never claimed to be the most observant person on the block. It often takes a drop of sweat dripping down my back for the realization to set in that I’m hot. The volume in my house is the same way. As it increases, I’m unaware until I’m, all of a sudden, at a breaking point. I freak out before I solve the problem. A volumestat would be huge in regulating noise before it becomes overbearing. Have you been there? All of a sudden you are made poignantly aware that you have had enough.

And sometimes I’ve had enough in my relationships too. My wife is an amazing woman. We “get” each other in so many ways. And, often, our strengths complement each other. I’m a lucky guy. But, as all of us know, relationships — especially the closest and most important ones — are less if they don’t challenge us and push us from time to time. When Deanna and I are arguing I have a natural tendency to step back and disengage. Deanna is more direct. There is a reality that we drive each other crazy with these natural tendencies. I frustrate her to no end when we are hashing through a disagreement. My silence and unresponsiveness only adds more fuel to her fire. And she has shared with me that often times she keeps pushing until she gets a response — even if it is a negative one. She pushes until I’ve had enough. And then I re-engage. Candidly, it can be a whole lot more heated. And there are elements of each of our behavior that we continue to improve and grow together. But you get the visual, right? My silent processing in my head and my lack of emotional response lasts until I’ve had enough. And then it all comes out. Often in ways that I wish it wouldn’t. Maybe it isn’t with your spouse. Maybe you are more aware of when you reach your limit in your interactions with a co-worker or boss. Perhaps it is a student. For all of us, it seems there is a time when we have shown enough grace. Once we’ve had enough, it is time to show that person a piece of my mind. Even us nice folks have our limits.

More Than Enough

I always imagine the float in the back of a toilet. After a flush, the water begins to fill the tank. The water raises the float to the specific point and shuts off the water. The tank has enough water. And so it is with us. My patience meter fills up. My tolerance of external stimuli reaches a threshold. My frustration boils over. And too often I’m unaware of the rising levels until it is too late. There is a limit to what we all can handle. And each of us has different tanks that hold different amounts of the things that bother us.

But He gives us more grace. James 4:6

As I turn my heart towards the Lord, I often wonder when He will look upon me and say, “Enough!” I’m quite certain that my actions, behaviors, and thoughts wear on Him and fill up a tank of frustration. The evil one feeds us the lie that God has had “enough” of us. And yet the Lord never stops the Living Water of forgiveness from washing over us. How many times have I given Jesus the chance to reach His limit of grace? How often do I add to His frustration by my disbelief, disobedience, and disingenuous ways? How big is His tank? Can it hold all of my rebellion? My selfishness? My lies? My anger? My failings?

Will the tank of God’s forgiveness, love, and grace ever reach “enough” for those who claim Him? Even as we give every opportunity for Him to turn off the flow of His goodness and mercy, He never reaches the point where He looks upon us and says, “I’ve had enough.” Jesus looks upon His children and proclaims — “You will never reach the end of my forgiveness. You will never empty my love. You will never outrun my outstretched arms. For you, there is always more than enough.”

What can Wonder Woman teach us about our partnership with God? A lot, actually. The princess of the Amazons is the quintessential superhero. She has powers and abilities that are driven by an incorruptible sense of duty, honor, and justice. Certainly the metaphor breaks down, but part of discipleship includes looking at the world around us through the lens of faith. The following is just that, a reflection of faith from a pivotal scene in the 2017 box office hit Wonder Woman. It also happens to be the closing story that wraps up my forthcoming book, Sacramental Disciples.

The Front Lines

“This is no man’s land. It means no man can cross it. This battalion has been here for nearly a year and they have barely gained an inch. On the other side there are a bunch of Germans pointing machine guns at every square inch of this place. This is not something you can cross. It’s not possible.” That was the reality of the front lines during WWI. At least as it was depicted in the 2017 blockbuster, Wonder Woman. The heroine, Diana, in her pursuit of justice, was determined to get to the front line. With the help of her sidekick, Steve Trevor, Wonder Woman arrived at no man’s land and learned of the stark reality of war. They were buried in the trenches, and it was clear that any head that peered above the edge of the trench became target practice for the German soldiers.

No man’s land had been a standoff for over a year. Trevor knew this and was ready to find another way to their target. Wonder Woman wanted no such delay — even after Trevor’s impassioned plea. With each step up the rung of the ladder the bystanders’ concern escalated. She breached the top of the trench, the Germans started firing, and Wonder Woman sprang into heroic action. She dodged bullets. She blocked bullets. She pressed forward. At one point, with her impenetrable shield, she withstood an onslaught of bullets without a scratch. In disbelief and confusion, the soldiers in the trenches slowly became aware of what was happening. “She’s taking all the fire — let’s go!” They, emboldened by her heroism, ascended the ladders and joined the advance. The battle wasn’t really a battle at all. The superhero did her thing, and the enemy had no chance. It was superhero cinematic artistry.

Front Lines of Faith

For millennia the standoff between good and evil was a stalemate. God’s kingdom hadn’t gained an inch. We had our rules of engagement: The Ten Commandments; living out of the Covenant; 613 laws that had been handed down. But these rules were, at best, helping us dig in against the dominion of darkness. They rarely helped us advance. It is clear that we need a champion. We need the Light of the World to do for us what we can’t do on our own. Jesus enters into no man’s land, takes all the bullets, and obliterates the enemy. This is His fight. It is His Good Work. The Good News is that He loves you and I enough to include us in the advance. He invites us to participate. Our work doesn’t amount to much. But, somehow, staying down in the trenches and not joining the charge forward ignores our savior’s work and equates us to deserters.

No one who watches this scene from Wonder Woman could ever think that Trevor or his fellow soldiers were the key to victory. This was Wonder Woman’s work. And yet, her work emboldened them to act. They followed. While she took and deflected all the bullets, the soldiers advanced as well. They joined the fight against evil. Their contribution didn’t move the needle at all. But they responded to the hero’s work. And so it is with Jesus. The question of discipleship is, will you do the same?

Photo Credit: https://unsplash.com/photos/VcpHtqee9sc

Do you know your strengths? Do you hide from your weaknesses? Often times our strengths are such a part of our bedrock that we are unaware of their power and presence. They are so natural that you become blind to your natural aptitude in various areas. And, too often, we hide our weaknesses under lock and key — afraid of what might happen if someone exposes us for who we really are.

Gifted? in Math

With 6 kids, we know our pediatrician pretty well — better than most people, I’d guess. We are there a lot. At a recent physical, our doctor was asking some typical developmental questions of our 4th grader. Among them were the usual questions about school. What subjects to you love? Do you get along well with your peers? Are you able to focus throughout the day? One of the questions that stuck in my head was, “What is your hardest subject?” Math, she said. That night I pulled an envelope from our stack of mail. It was from the school district. It shared the news that this same 4th grader had qualified for advanced math for the next school year. We celebrated with her. And laughed with her. We shared that our expectations just sky rocketed. If she qualified for advanced in her toughest subject, how high was her ceiling in her good subjects? In truth, my daughter was unaware of her strength.

How aware are you of the things you are best at in life?

There is a great story about Ted Williams, the famed baseball player, as he was helping a younger player with hitting. The batting coach asked the young player to watch Ted at the plate and get some pointers. As the legend stepped away from the plate, the question was simple. “What’s your secret?” Ted’s reply was simple — yet impossible. “Just look at the laces, kid.” Williams, the greatest hitter who ever lived, shared his secret. Every time the ball left the pitchers hand, “the Kid” would zero in on the baseball’s laces and could then determine the spin — and therefore the curve — of the pitch. The problem is only Williams could see the laces. From the pitcher’s rubber to home plate is 60 feet 6 inches. That means that a 90 MPH fastball travels for about .4 seconds. the ball is essentially invisible. And, if you can see the ball — there is no way you can see the laces. Except that the greatest hitter who ever lived DID see the laces. He had 20/10 vision. His eyesight was off the chart. He could see two times better than the average batter — a decided advantage.

And yet, it was such a natural ability that I am certain it didn’t cross his mind when he stepped into the batters box. His advice to the young better proves it, in fact.

Strength Finders

I recall the utter shock I had when I first got the results from Gallup’s Strength Finders assessment. After answering the assessment questions I was blown away that my overall strength was strategic. Up to that point I never saw myself as a strategic person. Years later I still wasn’t fully aware of how this skill set fit in my repertoire — let alone as the sharpest tool in my kit. Until one day I was sitting in my office with a friend, Patti. I was helping her plan out a written chapter and the subsequent speaking presentation. After throwing up a bunch of different ideas and key points on a white board I was able to draw connections, rearrange items, and fill in the holes. It was second nature to me. It wasn’t hard. I saw a larger vision and it was simple for me to connect the dots, in the right order, so that the end result was realized. Patti looked at me after I made these connections. She was amazed and called it artistry. I was dumbfounded by her compliment because what I just did wasn’t hard. In fact, I thought I was wasting her time by not adding anything she couldn’t do on her own. She continued to express her gratitude. And I was amazed at the sudden realization regarding my strategic strength.

That’s the thing about skills and strengths — the ones that are the strongest often run in the background. We are unaware of when and how often we utilize them. And, when they are natural for us, we often assume they are natural for others.

Power in Weakness

As much as I appreciate Strength Finders and becoming more and more self aware. There is a reality to a life in Christ that calls us to look and lean into our weaknesses. “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” 2 Corinthians 12:9 Each of us is gifted with strengths. The struggle with our strengths is that it often becomes easy to think that it is us and about our ability. As we leverage our strengths it is easy to assume that it is me doing the good work. We fall in the trap of self reliance. We trust in our ability, our capacity, and our proficiency. As we lean into our weakness our vulnerabilities open us to easier recognition of the Lord’s favor and hand. It is far easier to say, “There’s no way that I did that on my own.” Success in our weaknesses affords us the chance to forward the credit to the One who deserves it anyway. Our failures are also a great reminder that we are still a people in need of Jesus.

The culture and world around us goes to great lengths to hide weaknesses behind an exterior of bravado and omni-competence. Be different. What can you do today to own your weakness, with confidence, trusting that your identity is wrapped up in the One who’s power is made perfect in the middle of your gaps?

Phone Calls

We knew the day was coming. But it doesn’t make it much easier. Death is rarely easy. And, even in those times when it is, it still stinks. Judy Mayhew, the birth mother of three of our children, has died.

I still remember the first time I saw Judy. She was walking down the steps outside of her apartment. She was pregnant with our Elanna. I remember the raw joy and emotion as I saw Deanna embrace her in her arms. This was a bond of love that was just beginning to form. It was stitched together by flesh and blood. It was woven by the work of the Holy Spirit. Psalm 139 reminds us that we are knit together in our mother’s womb. For me, even with adoption as part of our story, this verse sings the truth. One of the joys is that it wasn’t just Elanna that was being knit together in Judy’s womb. It was two families coming together.

It was May 20, 2014, that we had a heart to heart conversation with Judy. We had known that she was diagnosed with terminal cancer. We knew that her clock was ticking. She had previously asked us if we would consider adopting Ember and Charlie. But, it was this night, May 20th, that we had a deeper conversation with Judy. She shared her heart with us. And her love. And we were moved. Our decision was made that night. We were going to say yes. And, on May 21st we called her to tell her. It was a conversation of joy and one that has forever changed our lives.

And so, perhaps it is fitting, bittersweet, and just like our Lord, that we received another phone call on May 20th, 2015. One year later. It was to let us know that Judy was gone. The cancer that had ravaged her body had won the battle. Thanks be to God that our Lord Jesus has and will win the war. This is our hope. This is our joy.

The Changes a Year brings

The year that existed between those two phone calls was pretty extraordinary. We experienced lots of highs and some real lows. We witnessed two families, separated by 2,390 miles, join together. I have a far greater understanding of what bravery looks like; it looks like Judy. We walked, again, through the legal adoption process. We saw our community of faith embrace our new family members with incredible love and compassion. And we received the blessing of having two more beautiful children wrap their lives around our hearts — intertwining their story with our story. Some of my greatest joys during that year were watching the melding of these children into our family. The subtle words and the second nature movements of a hand-held or a favorite toy shared were a source of grace and encouragement. These are our kids. And thankfully we continue to receive moments of grace amidst the chaotic life that 6 kids under 11 bring. But, in it all, we are blessed.

The day after Ember and Charlie arrived in Grove City, we took them to Adventure Camp with us. Rustic cabins. 200+ people. Church camp programming. Needless to say, we threw them right in. It was Saturday morning and we had a small army of teens and adults helping us around the breakfast table. It was faith webbing at work. And it hasn’t stopped.

Grace Filled Dancing

Easter is upon us again. The celebration of the resurrected Christ. The grave can’t keep Jesus from fulfilling His purpose. The cross and the tomb change everything. And they invite us in. The open tomb is an open door into a life-giving dance with the Almighty. It is an invitation to let Him lead you and to follow in the wake of His grace-filled dance. Following Jesus and living in the Spirit isn’t easy. It is downright hard often times. But it is the best way — the only way — to live a full life. A life in The Life. That first year with Ember and Charlie, especially, was a joy-filled dance with the Spirit. Some days — many days — were less than we planned and more than we could handle. But, by the Grace of our Father in heaven, we lived on in the wake of the Spirit. Filled and led. Empowered and covered. And, the cool thing about living in the Spirit, is that this is our story. Yours will be different. What is God nudging you into today? How will you breathe deep the Spirit of the Living God

Suffering is a part of life — bad things happen to us all. Yet Jesus provides us with hope and a way to redeem the pain we endure. When bad things happen — Jesus helps us through. His plan is simple: survive and serve. You are invited into this quick conversation between Jesus and Simon Peter. May it give you hope — even if, at first glance, it isn’t too comforting.

Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift all of you as wheat: But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers. Luke 22:31–32

We have all prayed that hardship would not come our way. How many of us reached adulthood because of the faithful prayers of our parents and grandparents? We are often unaware of the danger that we have evaded thanks to the faithful prayers on our behalf. Don’t stop praying these prayers. And yet, bad things happen to us all.

The first thing that we can learn from these two verses is of the sovereignty of Jesus. Satan had to ask permission because he doesn’t have authority. All Authority has been given to Jesus. Simon is warned by Jesus that trials and hardship are coming. This is what it means to be sifted. It actually is a word connected to threshing — the tearing apart of the worthwhile and worthless portion of the seed. Jesus allows the lord of darkness to put Simon through the ringer. Why?

Too often we are left with that one-word question: Why? And, too often, the answer to this question is insufficient and unknown. But the interaction between Jesus and Simon Peter does provide hope and insight. First, Jesus informs Simon that He has granted permission to Satan to put him in the crucible. But His next word is powerful. “But I have prayed for you.” Jesus isn’t denying the hardship that lurks for any of us. But He reassures you. I’m in your corner and I’ve got your back. Jesus assures you that He is walking through it and that, because of Him, your faith will not fail.

Turning Back: Redemption Through Helping

The comfort of knowing Jesus is with you provides the strength to persevere through suffering. But Jesus is too wise to waste a wilderness. Your wilderness might not be about you. It is preparing you to be the strength for another. Jesus tells Simon and He tells you that your first act when you get through the suffering is to turn around and look for others. Jesus redeems your suffering and pain because He is preparing you to stand at the threshold and help others out of the storm. Your purpose is to survive and turn back. To breathe, as you come into the joy of the morning — and then turn back toward the darkness to help others. Who’s hand do you need to grab to help them get through the hardship?

Here are two questions to reflect upon — I’d love to hear your responses in the comments below:

Who is someone who helped you through a rough spot in the last 6 months?

Who in your life can you reach back to so they can get out of the darkness and into His light?

Walking with children as they grieve the death of a loved one is really hard. How do you approach the subject? What do you say? What do you do? Will talking about the one who is gone make things worse? All these questions rattle around in our mind as we do our best to love the precious little ones in our lives in the wake of losing a loved one. Walking through grief with young children is actually a beautiful thing. The innocence of a child’s love and sadness can have a calming cathartic effect on adults as well. Here are 10 ways that you can walk through grief with a little one.

1. Don’t Sanitize Death

Death is not God’s desire for us. Even when life has been a struggle and death feels like a welcome reprieve from pain and suffering — death is still the enemy. Children know this intuitively — the one they love isn’t here any more. Don’t try to explain that pain away. Name it. Own it with your little one. It’s okay to say death hurts and I’m sad too. Don’t be afraid of your child’s emotions. Assure them that it is okay to be sad and don’t rush them towards happiness and laughter.

2. Watch Your Metaphors

Often, out of fear of making things worse, we use coded language to talk about death. There are all kinds of ways we do this, but one of the most common is equating death to sleeping. Even Paul does it in the New Testament. Adults can conceptually grasp this. Children, most of the time, can not. I know children who were comforted with the “sleep” metaphor and became terrified of bedtime as a result. Straight talk with Kids is important. Don’t try to sugar coat things. Be compassionate. But be real.

3. You Won’t Make It Worse

There is a fear that, in the aftermath of loss, bringing up the name of the loved one will cause extra hardship upon children (this one goes for adults too). Lean into this fear. The truth is, bringing up the name of grandma and providing safe space to talk about her love and impact doesn’t cause more hurt. It brings fond feelings of love and memory. Sure, it might make everyone sad for a moment. But, often times ignoring the pain and glossing over the blatant absence is far more troublesome. Yes, there are some boneheaded things that you can say that may make things worse. But, unlikely. The pain resonates from the void, not from you pointing out the void. Remembering and telling stories is one of the best ways to process pain and celebrate the legacy left behind.

4. Use Scripture

The truth is that Jesus gives us lots of promises regarding death and His provision through the Cross and Empty Tomb. But, if you are not a theologian — don’t become one. Often times well meaning words of comfort lead to challenging questions and non-biblical teachings. One popular one is, “Grandpa is up on Heaven looking down on you.” I get the sentiment. But we need to be careful. First, while scripture is pretty clear that relationships will still matter when we are joined with Him for eternity, the thought that our time will be spent looking down on loved ones here is troublesome. It also can make kids feel nervous that they are constantly being watched. The truth is Jesus is so captivating that our eyes, focus, and attention will be directed towards Him. Constantly. Second, it is difficult for children to process Dad being in heaven when I’m looking at him in this casket. Beyond the confusing theology of time, death, and redemption — when a child watches a casket of a loved one descend into the ground — that memory stays there. The logical question becomes, how can Dad be in heaven when I saw the casket at the cemetery. With all that being said, lean into Scripture to explain the challenges of death. My favorite is the promise of the Lord that, even in death our loved ones are leaning on the “everlasting arms.” The Lord held her in life, and He holds her in death. If we believe Jesus to be the victorious one who has conquered death — that means there is no place where the love of Christ and His power can’t reach. Death rips apart human relationships. It can not and will not rip apart the connection, provision, and relationship between Jesus and our loved ones. They rest — as they lived — in the everlasting arms of Jesus.

5. Tell Stories

Remind your little one of how much s/he was adored by your loved one. And be specific. Don’t just say how much they loved your child. But tell a story that shows that love. “Papa loved you so much. Your grandma always had a connection with everyone — but you had a special relationship with your Papa. You ran to him first. Always. And when you did it was always the happiest I ever saw him.” Fill in the gaps. Tell the stories. Connect it to emotions. And be specific. (This one will help you in the healing process too.)

6. Draw Pictures and Write Letters

Especially in the immediate aftermath of death, drawing and writing is a great way to help express pain and feelings. Depending on the age of the child, have them draw or write — or help them do both. I often encourage parents to have children put a picture or a letter in the casket with your loved one. But I also strongly encourage you to make a copy of both as a keepsake for years to come. Drawing pictures and writing letters is a great strategy for grief in the long term as well. Especially when sadness hits, helping children (and adults) express that sadness so that it does not fester is important. If your child draws a picture, make sure to let them tell you all about it first. Ask questions and help them process any emotions with follow up questions: “Tell me more about why you drew this?”

7. Touch

My wife’s grandmother would always take Deanna up to the casket at the funeral home. Deanna was young at the time, but Nanny would still encourage, model, and teach the importance of touching the loved one who had died. It is amazing how the simple act of touching your loved one demystifies death. It certainly doesn’t take the pain away — but it helps take the fear away. I understand this one isn’t for everyone, but consider reaching out and touching your loved one as they lie in state.

8. Meaningful Mementos

We have wind chimes in our house. We got them the day we heard about the death of Momma Judy, the Birth Mom of 3 of our children. They hang in a place of prominence and have been a healthy part of our family’s story. Momma Judy’s oldest daughter, our second oldest, helped us pick it out. They ring from time to time. Their purpose is simply as a reminder. And they serve as a powerful voice as well. There is a standing practice in our house that when we are sad and/or missing a loved one we go ring the wind chimes. Sometimes it is because the ringer wants to talk. We ring it to mark special occasions as well. Often times it rings, just because someone is sad. It doesn’t have to be wind chimes. But I’d encourage you to think through ways to give a voice to the grief into the foreseeable future. I know some families who have a special decorative light. Whatever you do, put some meaningful thought into the item and some meaningful practices for how to create new traditions to honor, celebrate, and give space for ongoing grief.

9. Go

I am sometimes asked about the wisdom of bringing children to calling hours and funerals. My response is always the same. Bring the kids. I understand the fear and wanting to protect a child’s innocence. Death is a reality that adults struggle to understand and process in healthy ways. And so we project that same confusion onto children and we want to protect them as much as possible. This is not a good long term strategy. And, missing the funeral of a loved one has a decent possibility of back firing. Kids are smarter than we think. They are more resilient than we can imagine. And their insights often bring clarity and peace to you and the situation. Take the kids. They can handle it. Plus, the sound of children in a funeral home and at a funeral radiates hope. Finally, one of the realities of life is that you will have to face death. Modeling appropriate ways to do this for your children is important.

10. A Final Blessing

The last step of the Faith5 is to bless one another in your family. You can learn a bit more about the Faith5 in my eBook. I trace the sign of the cross on their forehead every night before I put my kids to bed. We repeat the simple declaration over one another as we do this. “Jesus loves you and so do I.” Because this is such a mainstay for our family, it has become a part of how we say our final goodbyes as well. At the funeral and again at the graveside, our family traces the sign of the cross on the casket. We say and pray those powerful words over our loved one. Memorable moments are important in formation. And the death of a loved one is memorable — it is steeped in meaning. To encompass that moment in words that have power and meaning — and yet are accessible and already a part of your child’s life is powerful. Pastors give final blessings at funerals because those words have power. Equipping children with similar powerful words is a beautiful word of resurrection in the face of death.