10/16/2007 Rainbows and Glory

Excerpts from a letter to a friend... 10/16/07
[This is part of a letter I sent to an old friend and mentor from back in Indy last night, in answer to the question I've been getting, "How are you doing?". The entries that follow below are copies of the update letters that have been going out, to date-- in case anybody needs "catching up".]---------------Both Leslie and I are rather in awe of this strange sense of peace and intense readiness, which we are both experiencing in the midst of what everyone seems to be deeming a "crisis". Are we scared? Of course! This is cancer, after all. Are we emotional? With every breath which comes out of me, I'm not sure whether I will scream or cry or laugh. But we are confident. For we know that all things work together for good for those who trust the Lord. Does that mean He will spare Leslie's life? Indeed! He already has! And mine as well! But we are confident that He is using us in this for His Glory and His Kingdom. We somehow feel that He has been in many ways preparing us for this very moment for the past several years. And after all those blessings and celebrations and vacations and lazy Sundays (for which and in which we gave Him the praise and glory), in our weakness, He is now made strong.I was driving through the Wisconsin hillside this afternoon to meet with a high-profile corporate customer. The "higher-ups" had basically called us in, so I weighed the situation and found it necessary to be there in person, even in consideration of the situation at home. (Her mother and sister are at our house tonight, so I wouldn't be leaving her alone. I took nearly all of last week off, and I figured this was a good opportunity to start to get "back into the saddle"...) I drove to the meeting through several miles of what was apparently near-tornadic weather-- hail, wind, thunder-- and then... the rainbow. Beautiful bold rainbow, with all colors blazing. I thought of how, as a child, I would color with my red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and violet crayons-- staying in the lines, of course. But this rainbow, as brilliant as it was, had no division between colors. I couldn't tell where red became orange, became yellow, and so-on-- all the way to violet. Yet there it was-- in its arced entirety-- straddling the road to the big-whig client. I've never seen colors like that-- all draped against a blackened gray sky.I thought of Noah and the ark. God's promise in the rainbow. Could it be? What was He promising here? I thought of Irish folklore and the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. As I drove eastward, and as the sun ranged lower in the clearing sky behind me, I saw the end of the southerly end of the rainbow, apparently settling into a recently cut hayfield to my right. I briefly considered pulling over, and drenching my necktie and the rest of me in the hail and rain to see what God would have for me at the end of that rainbow. My "schooling" took over, and I reasoned that no matter how far I would run, I would never reach the end of that rainbow. Refraction. Prism effect. Point of perspective... But before I could do much more reasoning, I looked again... and the end of the rainbow seemed to be creeping closer to the right fender of my car... almost touching the hood of my maroon Trail Blazer... onto my windshield... ...? Settling into the leather passenger seat... In which Leslie had been seated for so many thousands of miles of road-trip-- filled with laughter, conversation, and thoughtful silence. Indeed, the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow is Leslie.And God's promise is that-- after the flood-- His goodness will persevere. His blessings-- my wife, our beautiful little boy, His church which has been instrumental in getting us through the past six days-- will indeed endure. And when the rainbow fades, He will be even stronger in His goodness.It is good to be a vessel of his lovingkindness. Of his peace, patience, and goodness. Of his grace.Please pray for my wife. For comfort in the midst of recoveries and more medical procedures. For the doctors and the true miracles of modern medicine. God's will be done, but I'd like to see my bride grow very, very old before going "home". Pray for TJ. His anxiety (mommy being sick, all the visitors, and an ambulance visit to our house-- all in the last 3 days) is becoming more and more apparent, in his little two-year-old way. And in it all, say a "thank you" to our Father for showing his faithfulness through His body locally-- meals, prayers, help around the house, etc... This is the Gospel worth dying and living for. I look forward to getting back in touch with you soon-- hopefully with good news.In and by his grace,Tyson