Finally catching on

This was probably about the fourth Lenten season that I started reading Death on a Friday Afternoon. I started even before Lent this time, thinking that this would finally be the year I finished it "on time." 

Well, I still didn't. 

But fortunately, the time I spent with Fr. Mike Schmitz doing the Bible in a Year program last year taught me to stop thinking in terms of "on time." Fr. Neuhaus has made clear that it's always a good time to think about Good Friday, and that the Crucifixion and Resurrection are each best contemplated in the light of the other anyway. They each provide the context in which the other should be understood, and they both provide the meaning for my daily life. 

So I have some of the book left, and will continue to read and share from it during this Easter season. This will probably give me time to soak in some of the content that I've rushed through in the past because I was "late" finishing up.

Kidney transplant status

Background here

I was 26 when I was diagnosed with polycystic kidney disease. I'd known my mom had it. She called from Georgia to tell me she'd had a transplant, it was successful, and that her nephrologist advised that her kids get tested for it because it is caused by a dominant gene. The Air Force tested me using an Intravenous Pyelogram (IVP), and it was clear that I had cysts on my kidneys. So we've basically been monitoring a slow, steady decline in my kidney function ever since. I have now reached the point at which my nephrologist recommends that I try to get a transplant before I reach the point of needing dialysis. 

I've had a few people volunteer as potential donors. To protect their privacy I will be cautious about how I talk about them. The first to be identified as a possible match went for evaluation earlier in the month. They determined that this individual was at long-term risk for diabetes, so they will not approve them as a donor. The team indicated to this individual that there were at least a couple other potential donors who had signed up.

Meanwhile, I am being evaluated as a transplant recipient. As a result of my initial tests, the transplant team has referred me to two specialists. Due to an irregularity in my stress test, they referred me to a cardiologist, indicating that when he cleared me we could proceed. I've met with him twice. He indicated that my strong heart functionality outside of this test led him to believe that, for now, we should just keep an eye on things, monitoring my heart functionality over time and taking further action when there is some other indication of a problem. He indicated that he would approve me for the transplant, but prepared me that the transplant team might nonetheless want a more definitive test before accepting his recommendation. The transplant team has since indicated that they will not approve me without my having first undergone a heart catheterization procedure to make sure there isn't a blockage to be addressed. This procedure requires dye or contrast that will need to be cleared through my compromised kidneys, but my local nephrologist will issue pre- and post hydration orders that will help with that.

The second specialist they've had me see is a neurosurgeon. PKD is associated with increased risk of aneurysms, and the MRA they did in my evaluation testing showed a spot they were concerned about. I expected this because of an issue shown on a previous MRA that was subsequently definitively determined not to be an aneurysm. I've met with the neurosurgeon, and he is confident that the area they are concerned about is also not an aneurysm, but rather an irregular but non-concerning deviation in the junction of a couple blood vessels. I'm still awaiting clearance on that. 

Meanwhile we continue to monitor my kidney function to make sure I'm not seeing enough of a reduction to need to start dialysis, while the transplant team continues to evaluate my remaining potential donors, either as direct matches for me or for the donor swap program.

I appreciate your continued prayers and support. Part of the reason I'm posting this update today is that Easter seems an appropriate time to mention that I am not afraid of what lies ahead. I am confident in the One who holds both me and those whom I love.

I will post periodic updates. 

Kidney transplant background

I was 26 when I was diagnosed with polycystic kidney disease. I knew my mom had it. She called to tell me she'd just had a transplant, it was successful, and that her nephrologist advised that her kids get tested for it because it was caused by a dominant gene. The Air Force tested me using an Intravenous Pyelogram (IVP), and it was clear that I had cysts on my kidneys. So we've basically been monitoring a slow, steady decline in my kidney function ever since. I have now reached the point at which my nephrologist recommends that I try to get a transplant before I reach the point of needing dialysis. 

Knowing our story

The gospel is the story of the world and of everyone in the world, whether they know it or not. Again, in the words of (St.) John Paul II, "Christ is the answer to which every human life is the question." The mission of the Church is bring the world to itself, as we are told that the prodigal son in that distant country "came to himself." . . . Again, the Church does not have a mission, as though missionary work were one of its programs or projects. The Church is the mission of Christ, who continues to seek and save the lost who do not know their story." - Fr. Richard John Neuhaus, Death on a Friday Afternoon

I don't know how closely related this prior post is, but it seems relevant. 

There is this train of thought in the world today that no one knows us as well as we know ourselves, and that this self-knowledge should be sufficient to justify every decision we make. We see this approach at work in many different contexts. I'm sure my mom had similar thoughts when she engaged in the illicit relationship that produced me. Often we arrive at a later point in our resulting story realizing that we didn't know our real story at all. Many times we find that we have written subsequent chapters in our own lives and in others' that have resulted in very painful repercussions. 

The truth is that none of us know our story until will know our Savior. There is no part of our story that does not need to be redeemed and brought to completion in him, to be united to his story (history). When he has brought us to ourselves, we find that we enter into the mission of helping others discover their story in him, too. 

It may seem arrogant from the outside, but I suspect it's more arrogant by far to think that my story matters in any other context.

Witness

An apostle is ever so much more trustworthy than a religious genius. A genius may have flashes of insight and come up with a brilliant spiritual scheme, but what he has to say is finally and uniquely his. I cannot enter into it or trust it completely. An apostle's role is much more modest and, therefore, more credible: "I have been told something that I must tell you. Make of it what you will." - Fr. Richard John Neuhaus, Death on a Friday Afternoon

I think the desire to come up with our own insight and brilliance is a sin of pride. What more could I aspire to than to witness to the love of Christ Jesus? Yet many of us want to find some new way of putting out the message, some new angle that helps people accept what they have rejected or what they struggle with. I think this is a matter of getting our role wrong, of wanting to be responsible for the saving of souls, when that is not our job. 

Our job is to witness. Jesus has done an amazing thing in my life, and I want to share how He has loved me so that some who hear me understand how very much He loves them, too. The point of my discipleship is to become more like Christ so my life bears the same testimony as my words.

The glory of humble obedience

At the juvenile level of popular culture, Jesus might be more admired had he defied the will of the Father. One can readily  imagine the herd of independent minds cheering his defiant," I want to be free to be ME!" To the more mature, he might seem to be a greater hero had his final surrender to his destiny been preceded by a titanic struggle against that destiny. Why do so many think the glory of the cross is diminished because Jesus' will and the will of the Father were perfectly one? I expect it is for the same reason that, as we discussed earlier, many people say that the original fall was a fall upward rather than a downward. Modern consciousness has no higher interest than itself.  - Fr. Richard John Neuhaus, Death on a Friday Afternoon

Yes, we seem to put out struggle against ourselves on a pedestal, as if the nobility in our obedience is found in the fact that we want to be disobedient and struggle not to be. There is, indeed, glory in a struggle, but it is not a greater glory than that of humbly accepting that God's will is greater than our own.

I have a good friend, probably my best friend, who desperately desires a different path for her life than the one she is on. I admire that she is determined to trust in God's will and follow his guidance rather than selfishly make decisions that could bring her wishes to fruition in a way other than God's revealed plan. I have never mentioned to her that, by her obedience, she is probably sparing someone else great pain. Instead, she chooses to bear her own, and trusts that God is going to work out her life according to His plan for her. 

I see God's glory revealed in her life as she obeys His will. I know it is a struggle for her, just as Jesus' agony in the garden reveals that his obedience to the Father was a struggle for him, too. 

Hope in the Forsaken One

If, as St. Paul says, Christ who knew no sin was made sin for us, can there be any sin he did not bear there on the cross? If the answer is no, as I believe it must be, then even the utterly forsaken are not bereft of the company of the utterly forsaken one, the Son of God, and therefore not bereft of hope." - Fr. Richard John Neuhaus, Death on a Friday Afternoon

This is a comforting thought as I instinctively contrast my Aunt Helen's life and recent death with my dad's so long ago. He was proud and adamant in his atheism. He would not accept God's grace while he lived, and in his hopelessness took his own life. 

Yet I hope that he is not now bereft of hope.

Perhaps there is hope for me, too, as I continue to refuse to yield my will fully to God's, one way or another, decade after decade.