Author Archives: ivanjamestruman

The Mystery of Losing a Spouse

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I’ve never lost a spouse, though I came close to it a few years ago. And though I can’t speak from personal experience, the mystery of losing a spouse can be cautiously searched out by taking the time to know a little more what a husband and wife is in the first place.

I have visited more widows than widowers in my time; hearing their sweet stories and catching a glimpse of what was, is a privilege.  It seems that it won’t be long that my own mother will join the lattice of widows upon the earth.

Before 1963, there were two distinct and separate adult persons, one male – Buddy James Truman, and the other, female – Drema Kay Hall. They each had their own identities, independent of the other. But then in May of 1963, something that is so mysterious to our comprehension, they became one flesh:

“This is at last bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man. Therefore a man shall cleave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh. And the man and his wife were both naked and were not ashamed” (Gen. 2:23-25). Literally, and more accurately to Hebrew verb tense, for the man and the woman, “becoming, you shall become one flesh.” With the same verb tense that God warned to not eat from the tree of knowledge of good and evil, “dying, you shall die”, marriage is a progressive cleaving, hardening-up, congealing over time of two distinct and separate persons who become something other than what they were as separate persons. Another whole and completely other person is formed and bonded.

Paul says this becoming one flesh union is a mystery and that this mystery refers to a more profound mystery, namely, Christ becoming one with his church (Eph. 5:28-32). Two persons become another person altogether. So the math does not look like this:

1 + 1 = 1.

But,

A + B = C.

Bud + Drema = (Mystery of One Flesh, Something Other Than What They Were Before).

This mystery is so profound that it is right for Drema to say, “that is my cancerous liver.” So profound that Bud can say, “that is my new hip replacement.” ONE FLESH!

“What you feel – I feel” is not what I am saying. See the independent “I” in that statement and the complete otherness of the referenced “you”? See how difficult it is to truly give a voice to what has happened? No one speaks to themselves like that unless you’re headed for the rubber-room. No one looks down at the cut in their own leg and speak in the second person, “I feel your pain” – as if, you, the person is separate from the leg-member. But in marriage, Bud and Drema Truman can truly look to the other, and say, “I hurt when you hurt because you are one flesh with me as much as my own arm is part of me”, not as two separate persons, but as a human body seamlessly feels all-over what is going on in the leg, “My body hurts.”

This is why in death, the mystery of losing a spouse is beyond understanding. Widowed and still alive, but at the same time, like the severance of your right arm, you are no longer altogether there. The mystery of losing a spouse is appreciated to the degree that you appreciate what a marriage is in the first place. That someone else who was/is you (remember, one flesh) is now gone. This is why the gospel is profoundly good: Those who are in Christ will be united to him forever, in such a way that when Bud and Drema see each other again, that one-flesh-union for over 52 years (and counting:) will find its fulfillment and purpose: “so this was what it was all about – our one flesh union was a primer course for a deeper level of joy, knowledge, fulfillment, and friendship with Jesus, our true husband – united to him as one – forever!”

The reason why there is no human marriage in heaven between a man and a woman is not because there is no marriage at all, but because there is one already between Christ and his church. What awaits us is so far above and beyond this earthly marriage that there is no comparison on earth to help us. Only insofar that we awe the mystery of a one-flesh union over many years that we are compelled to believe that, well, if Jesus borrowed a line from one of my favorite 70’s rock bands, I think he would say to his bride-in-progress, “B b b b baby, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

Somewhere Over The Rainbow

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What is the power of, “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”?

About five minutes into the film, Wizard of Oz, Dorothy sings the song after failing to get her aunt and uncle to listen to her relate an unpleasant incident involving her dog, Toto. Dorothy’s Aunt Em tells her to “find yourself a place where you won’t get into any trouble.” This prompts Dorothy to walk off by herself, musing to herself, “‘Some place where there isn’t any trouble.’ Do you suppose there is such a place, Toto? There must be. It’s not a place you can get to by a boat, or a train. It’s far, far away. Behind the moon, beyond the rain…” at which point she begins singing.

Here is some precious time with my dad, as I attempt to play a short piece of this famous song. After the video, I’ll try to answer the question above.

The power of this song is in the common human desire to go to a place “where there isn’t any trouble.” Do you suppose there is such a place? You bet!

Jesus said, “Let not your hearts be troubled (because he knows that they are). Believe in God; believe also in me (because to believe in Jesus is to believe in God – for he is God). 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? 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.” (John 14:1-3)

True, you can’t get there by boat or train. Which is why Jesus also said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me” (14:6).

My greatest joy and comfort is to know that the place that Jesus has prepared for my dad, a place where there isn’t any trouble, is “finished.” All the hard work has been done. The foundation is sure – behind the moon, beyond the rain . . .

The Mystery of Losing a Parent

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It’s been some time since I’ve posted. And even now, though I speak publicly and privately each week in several settings, there is something about writing that requires stillness, and for now, it is very private to me: apologies to readers for the sound of silence. But . . . I will try to put thoughts to ones and zeros again.

It is a deep mystery of losing a parent, for me, for now, it’s pre-losing. Today I spent some time with my parents. Many of you know that my dad is dying of cancer and will soon be with the Lord. But I keep asking myself the same question, and the answer is like grasping wind in your hand. Elusive. Frustrating. Like a fog that settles in a valley, you look down into it from the top and you cannot see what is below . . . but here goes:

Today I drove around my home town by myself, after taking a swim at Salmon Run, of course. Then, down mainstreet, I begin to talk to myself: “grandpa repaired shoes just over there”; “. . . the old Ben Franklin store used to be right there . . . “; “. . . I love that old building” – as I drive up the hill on the backside of Old Main – my jr. highschool, and for many in my family, their highschool; “. . . memories cascade so fast I can’t keep up”; “the old band building, the red brick one, friday night football games, the band,  . . . the grade school – I peer into the window of my first grade class room with Mrs. Forren . . .” – “. . . that’s where Eddy hit me in the head with the baseball bat during recess – 6th grade – still have the scar”; up McKees Creek Rd – “grandma switched me right there – creepy old house on the left – dangerous curve – stop: memories flood over me . . . what happened to time? – gone – what am I feeling? – what is it exactly that is at the bottom of this melancholy? – I hate this – why does this hurt so deeply that I can’t even begin to get an answer because I’m not sure what the question is.

And there it is. It is the one of the most perplexing questions that face us, the anthropology of “Who am I?”

At least for me, the mystery of losing a parent puts pressure upon the conscience to answer this with more knowledge than I own. We have rightly lived our lives having our identity shaped by knowing who brought us into this world. There is a sense of security, oneness, belonging-ness, to-be-loved and return-love to the one person that you can say, “I am his son.” But what if he’s gone? It feels like a dimension of you dies when you lose a parent. The “Who am I? I am his son!” is now disjointed. This is why Peter Kreeft says that eventually in this life, we turn inward and wonder who we really are once we stop playing with our masks on other people’s stages (The Philosophy of Jesus, 7). Have I been playing on my dad’s stage, and when he’s gone, so is the stage, and so is my self-identity?

Not really, writes Kreeft. It just feels that way because we really have been blessed to have lived a long life in a loving relationship with the one person on the entire planet that explains, in part, our existence. And when that one person is gone, it feels . . . empty.

Thankfully, I do not have to answer my own question, Who am I?, for I cannot. Furthermore, the loss of a parent that mystifies life – literally, wrecks this neatly structured sequence, can also be answered, but again, not by me. I am finding a deeper comfort in Jesus, the “I Am” who knows who I am (John 8:75-58) – that’s the answer! That is, Christ is not my Answer Man, a means to my end – he IS the Answer (The Philosophy of Jesus, 40). Christ is the meaning of man. To attempt to know yourself apart from him who became flesh is illogical. If there is no God who became the self-existent I Am, then why the droopy face? Who cares?!?!? Besides, if you were not created by him then what explains why you even think about yourself . . . if you are by random, then so are your thoughts. But then again, you could not read what I am writing and put into logical order for understanding. But you are reading and you are thinking, and you are wanting to know yourself . . . aren’t you? You care who you are. So does Jesus. He cares enough to question you, “Do you know who you are? Do you know who I AM is?”

To live with the mystery of losing a parent is now cradled by knowing Jesus more fully, the one who transcends, who was before my parents, who will be here after they’re gone and after I’m gone. To know him who is “yesterday, today, and forever” is modest serenity, just enough until I am face to face with him. Who am I? I am a lover of Jesus Christ, who is the God Man, who is The Subject, never the object. I am the object whose identity is defined by the one who made me, made my dad, made his dad, and his dad, and . . . and . . . and

Peace

“. . . you’re not loving them; you’re using them to love yourself.”

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One of my favorite heroes of the faith is Paul Tripp. I’ve read nearly every book he’s written, several times. Below is just another example why I read him.

Here is his blog.

http://www.paultripp.com/wednesdays-word/posts/identity-in-relationships

And here is what I just read. May you too be helped.

Identity In Relationships

Last week I wrote to you about the temptations and dangers of seeking identity in what we achieve. Today I want to expose an equally appealing and hazardous identity trap: our relationships.

Just like God created us to be successful workers, so God created us to be social beings. His plan, from day one, was for us to live in meaningful relationships with other people. It’s one of the reasons God says, “It is not good that the man should be alone.” (Genesis 2:18)

Human community is also one of the primary ways we reflect God’s image; have you ever considered that God himself is a community? Here’s the bottom line: our relationships are essential to life. In fact, our relationships are so essential that God positioned the command to love one another as second only to the call to love him (Matthew 22:37-39).

But just as sin messes with our ability to work hard for God’s glory, so sin messes with our ability to pursue relationships in a healthy way. Our twisted hearts are lured into thinking that other human beings can provide the one thing that only God was designed to provide.

If you’re a parent, you’ll be lured into seeking identity in your children. We start to live for, and live through, our kids. Their appreciation for us, their respect of us, and their personal success because of us (so we think) become the reasons we get up in the morning.

Sooner or later, this way of relating to your children will come crashing down. Our kids were never given to us to be trophies on the mantel of our identity. If anything, their success is a hymn of praise to another Father who provided everything they need to be where they are and to do what they’re doing. As parents, we’re never more than instruments in his redemptive hands.

Similarly, if you’re married, you’ll be tempted to find identity in your spouse. We tend to feel the most alive when our husband or wife gives us praise and affection, and we quickly become discouraged and irritated when we feel ignored or taken for granted.

Finding identity in your spouse will never work. No sinner can be your mighty fortress; only God can, as the classic hymn reminds us. Perhaps even more importantly: when you look to another person for identity, you’re not loving them; you’re using them to love yourself.

Children and marriages are probably the two most frequently occurring locations for misplaced relational identity, but we all attempt to find identity in another human being at some point – a friend, a “celebrity” that we know, or even our pastor! It’s a parasitic way of living that always ends in disappointment.

Human relationships are unable to provide us with life, contentment, happiness, and joy, so when we ask them to be our source of identity, it’s only a matter of time before they fail us. We can never be reminded of this enough: our identity is only safe in one Person – Jesus Christ!

His love, unlike other people’s love, will never fail. His work, unlike other people’s work, is complete. So run to the Lord again today. As the Psalmist says, “He is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.” (Psalm 18:2)

God bless

Paul David Tripp

Reflection Questions

  1. In what ways might you be seeking identity from your children? Or, who else may you be living vicariously through?
  2. In what ways might you be seeking identity from your spouse? Or, who else are you tempted to seek identity from?
  3. Pick one of your above examples. Why is your heart lured into thinking that you’ll find life in that relationship?
  4. What are you asking that person to provide for you? Why are they unable to provide that for you?
  5. How is Christ able to provide above and beyond what you are asking for in a human relationship? Be specific.