FOREWORD
Scott Sauls
R eflecting on the future of the human race, Anne Lamott said candidly: A hundred years from now? All new people.
Ive always liked reading Anne Lamott for the same reason I like reading Russ Ramseybecause she cuts to the chase and, raw and unfiltered, tells the truth about life. And the truth about life is, at least for now, that its temporary, fleeting, and fading, like a vapor. Because the current mortality rate is one person per every one person, none of us get to ride off into the sunset. At least it doesnt seem that way.
But for those whose personal stories are anchored in the story of Jesus, the threat of death is not a cause for despair. To be sure, it is a cause for momentary grief and sorrow and weeping, but attentive hearts also know that death is a prequel to paradise. The Bridegroom and the garden-city of God await, ready to catch us on the other side with the promise of no more death, mourning, crying, or pain (Revelation 21:1-5; 22:1-3).
In the end, death will lose its sting. Because Jesus is risen, we, too, will rise with renewed bodies and perfected hearts, minds, and motives. If we can imagine it (and even if we cant), every single day will be better than the day before. The aging process will no longer be marked by getting older and weaker, but younger and stronger, for infinite days.
This future vision, anchored and secured and irrevocably etched into the pages of Scripture, presents us with a hope that can carry us through many dangers, toils, and snares. Its promise is that for every believer, the worst-case future scenario is resurrection and everlasting life in Jesus. Yes, in the end, thats as bad as it can possibly get for us in Jesusuninterrupted, unhindered, perpetual bliss in the garden-city of God, with a tree in its center that is there for the healing of the nations. The empty tomb affirms that all these things are, and forever will be, trustworthy and true.
But what about now? What about the in-between timethese broken, never-predictable, wild, sorrow-filled, out-of-our-control, afflicted, fallen days in which we live? These are the days that bear hopeful glimpses and shadows of the world to come, but they are also the days that are, as Job the sufferer reminds us, numbered and hard. Its the numbered and hard days that make me thankful for authors like Russ Ramsey, and especially for this masterpiece that Russ, inspired by his writer-hero Annie Dillard, calls Struck . I need the story that Russ tells in these pages, and I need it in the way that he tells it.
Like Russ, I am a pastor whose job it is to help others through their numbered and hard days. Like Russ, I am also a jar of clay, a finite and fallen man, restless and frail, foolish and vulnerable, self-doubting and sometimes doubting of God. Like Russ, I have been anxious and depressed. Like Russ, I have doubted my calling and been through a vocational crisis. Like Russ, I have questioned the meaning of life and begged God to end it all. Like Russ, I have contemplated the inevitability of my own death. Like Russ, I have been involuntarily lifted up by the Creator who, as C. S. Lewis faithfully reminds us, is always good but never safeand have been struck by him.
It is from this place of affliction, this place of being struck, that my heart (and yours?) becomes most receptive and most consciously needful of a story like the one that you now hold in your hands. The events about which Russ writes are not unique, because every person experiences grief and loss and brushes with death. And yet, there is an utter and uncommon uniqueness in the way that he tells this common story, because in the telling he offers us a new set of eyes and a glimpse of an inner life that is shaped by the world to come. He helps us, as N. T. Wright would say, to imagine Gods future into our present sorrows and losses, and in the imaginingin finding our place in the story that is trustworthy and truefind truth, beauty, meaning, and hope.
In the beautiful telling of his own brush with death and the process of recovery, Russ shows us, in a most moving and lovely and hopeful fashion, what it means to find joy in the sorrow, beauty in the ashes, light in the darkness, intimacy in the fear, love in the losses, water in the wilderness, music in the sorrow, and yes, even life in the dying.
Russ, thank you for telling us the truth about life. Thank you for telling the truth in a most tender way. You are my friend and colleague, but you are also much more than this. You are a man who, in a most artful and thoughtful and heartfelt fashion, helps me see Jesus. May God give us all eyes to see as you do.
I had been my whole life a bell,
and never knew it until at that
moment I was lifted and struck.
Annie Dillard
CHAPTER 1
LEARNING TO SEE
Affliction and Faith
God whispers to us in our pleasures,
speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pain:
it is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world.
C. S. Lewis
W hen my doctor told me I was dying, I came alive.
Three days before my fortieth birthday I was admitted to the emergency room. A bacterial infection had destroyed my mitral valve and I was in the early stages of heart failure.
That day and the two years that followed are the setting for this book. They are the setting, but they are not the subject. This is a book about what happens when affliction and faith collide.
I am a husband, father of four, pastor, and author living in the greatest big small town in AmericaNashville, Tennessee. I lead a simple life. I get up early for work. I am rarely awake past 11:00 p.m. My wife and I go to bed tired. I have never dug a well in Africa or jumped out of an airplane. I am suspicious of people who use the word epic to describe their desired life. I am a simple man, and I do not presume that my story of affliction is all that unusual.
But it is not the uncommon parts of our suffering I am drawn to write about. I want to explore the common experiences afflicted people sharethe onset of a sense of frailty, the fear, the grief, the humor, the routines, the new ways of relating to people who love us and are afraid for us and for themselves.
I have committed myself to the work of paying as much attention as I can to the medical, spiritual, relational, emotional, pharmaceutical, and physical experiences of this journey my failing heart has set me on. I have asked a lot of questions and taken a lot of notes and used them to write the chapters that make up this book.
Affliction awakens us to things we might not have seen otherwise. When I first learned of the severity of my condition I felt afraid, of course. But the prevailing sensation wasnt fear. It was wondercuriosity, even exhilaration. I felt that I was at the beginning of a great adventureone I instinctively did not want to miss. I have discovered that many in my position have felt the same way.
I want to interrogate my affliction. What happens when a person stands at the edge of their mortality and looks out into the eternal? What happens when a doctor tells a man he is dying? If that person believes in God (which I do), what will become of his faith? Will the spiritual premises he trusted as dependable foundations all those years earlier suddenly fail? Will he require certain personal outcomes in order for his faith to hold? And if so, is that even faith? Or is that nothing more than a house of cards too easily toppled by the winds of suffering?