Like so many Canadian boys of his era, Nick went through a pretty significant Nerf Gun phase when he was 8 or 10 years old. Between several birthdays and Christmases he built up quite an arsenal and, for a time, most of his play would in some way involve these guns. There was one game he especially enjoyed. When he found out that guests were on their way over, he would hide outside and watch for their approach. When they walked down the pathway leading to our home, he would pop out of his hiding spot and unleash a fusillade of foam bullets. He loved nothing more than a successful ambush. And though his guns are no longer in his hands and he is no longer in our home, he still sets ambushes, though only inadvertently.

The unbearably sharp pain of those earliest days and months has over time given way to something that is perhaps closer to a dull ache. The loss still hurts, but not quite as badly as it once did. I still cry, but not every day. The path is still hard, but not as hard as it was months or even weeks ago. If time does not heal all wounds, it does, at least, soothe them.
One of the ways the pain has become more bearable is simply by having Nick less on my mind now than in the early days. As I get on with a life that has begun to feel like a new kind of normal, I associate him more with the past than with the present or immediate future. My love for him is undiminished, of course, as is my longing to see him. But he is not as constant a presence in my mind now as he was before. I still think about him every day, but no longer every moment.
But there are still times when he ambushes me, when a situation arises in which I’m once again forced to confront my loss head-on. And this, as it happens, is one of them. We are in Louisville, Kentucky this weekend for two significant events. Today we will attend the ceremony in which Nick’s fiancée Ryn and a number of his friends will graduate. On Sunday we will celebrate Abby’s wedding. We anticipate that it will be a weekend of great rejoicing.
Yet behind the joy we know there will also be some sorrow. After all, this would have been Nick’s graduation as well. Though he had enrolled in a program in which he would complete both his undergraduate degree and his Masters of Divinity in five years, he was scary smart and very hard-working and was on track to complete it all in only four. And so this is the day he would have graduated twice over, once from Boyce College and once from Southern Seminary. This is the day he would have finished up one phase of his life to begin another—to finish up his studies and begin his ministry. Yet, in God’s providence, his name will go uncalled in the long roll of young men and women who step up to receive their diplomas, who throw their caps into the air to celebrate the end of one phase of their lives and the beginning of another.
As soon as the graduation ceremony is over, we will change our focus to Abby and Nathan’s big day. We know, of course, that Nick will be conspicuous by his absence in the wedding party, in the family photographs, and in the speeches. He, after all, was Abby’s close confidant and dear friend and would have had a prominent place at the wedding. He, after all, was immeasurably precious to each of us. Yet, in God’s providence, he has joined into a different kind of celebration and has taken his place at a different kind of feast.
But whether in graduation ceremonies or wedding celebrations, we intend to rejoice rather than weep, to celebrate rather than lament, to look forward rather than back. We believe that God calls us to enjoy his good gifts, even when our hearts have been broken. And we can do this, for one of the paradoxes of life in this world is that in our deepest sorrows we are never without joy and in our highest joys we are never without sorrows. We learn that there are times to rejoice with those who rejoice and times to weep with those who weep—and that we have no right to demand that the rejoicing weep or that the weeping rejoice. There is “a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance.”
And so this a weekend of laughing, not weeping, of dancing, not mourning. There may be some ambushes along the way and the tears that come with them, and that’s just fine. But we are certain that the joy of these days will be far more prominent than the sorrow. We are certain that God means for us to embrace and enjoy the pleasures he has provided, to celebrate what actually is rather than to lament what could have been. For each of these celebrations in its own way points us forward to a future in which there will be no pain left to lament. Each of life’s pleasures in its own way gestures us toward a time in which there will be no sorrow left to grieve. Each of God’s blessings calls us to rejoice. And by his grace we will.
(Here’s a precious picture that was taken just a couple of days before Nick died. Nick and Ryn had recently gotten engaged while Abby and Nate had recently begun dating. It was Abby’s birthday, so they all went out for dinner together. I’m so thankful they thought to ask the waiter to snap a photo.)

As a devotee of chronological Bible-reading plans, I was pleased to learn of the new ESV Chronological Bible that Crossway just announced and released. It’s available in hardcover and TruTone.

(Yesterday on the blog: On the Day When God Fails in Just One of His Promises)
The Remembrance of Blood
This is a strong article by Andrew Roycroft. “As Christians what do we have to say about human life, large scale bloodshed, and the injustice that often follows it? Does the Bible provide us with a framework for processing and addressing these issues in a morally satisfying way? How can we think well about the legacy of blood that stains the conscience of the world we live in?”
Remember Sybil
“Remember Multiple Personality Disorder (MPD)? The 1980 diagnostic manual called DSM-III defined MPD for the first time, but the psychiatric professionals in 1994 changed the diagnosis (in the DSM-IV) to Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID). According to Psychology Today the change was ‘to reflect a better understanding of the condition—namely, that it is characterized by fragmentation or splintering of identity, rather than by proliferation or growth of separate personalities.’ (PT, 9.21). Splintering rather than separate.” Nathan draws an important lesson from this.
Is It Wrong to Have Sex Before Marriage?
Obviously it is wrong, but it’s important we consider the reasons for this (as Kevin DeYoung does here). “Not long ago, an American politician found herself in an awkward situation when she mentioned at a prayer breakfast that she was running late for the event because her fiancé wanted to have sex that morning. From her public admission, it was clear that the woman and her fiancé were living together and were in a sexual relationship. What was also clear is that the woman—a professing Christian at an evangelical church (with her pastor in the audience)—didn’t realize she had said or done anything wrong.”
Prayer Requests from a Church in Israel
Randy Alcorn passes along prayer requests from a local church in Israel. It is good to know how to pray for our brothers and sisters there.
Navel-Gazing Won’t Help You Grow
“Have you ever met a chronic navel-gazer? Well, if you haven’t before, you have now. Hi, my name is Brittany. Nice to meet you.”
Trust the Lord in Your Marriage
We know that God calls us to “trust in the Lord with all your heart.” In this article, Jacob calls us to do so in a very particular area.
Flashback: 5 Bad Substitutes for Discipline
Because discipline is unpopular and unpleasant, parents often find themselves looking for substitutes. In her book Parenting Against the Tide, Ann Benton lists five poor substitutes for disciplining our children—five poor substitutes that fail to address the heart.

Believers don’t depend on luck, chance, fate, or fortune. We trust a God who has planned all things for our good and His glory. Trust, rejoice, obey. —Dustin Benge

One of the great challenges of the Christian life is to become a giver—and not just a giver, but a cheerful giver. The Bible commends generosity, but generosity that is free from compunction or coercion, for “each one must give as he has decided in his heart, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.” We must not love money so much that we fail to be generous. Yet we must also ensure we are not giving merely as a way to assuage guilt or relieve external pressure. As is so often the case in the practice of the Christian faith, we need to guard against competing extremes.

It has long been my observation that it often takes some time for Christians to begin to give to the church (and/or to other ministries) and to do so in a way that is genuinely generous. And I think this actually makes a good deal of sense. The majority of people who come to Christ do so when they are young and in a phase of life when earnings tend to be low and a lot expenses loom before them. We can hardly criticize young people for thinking that good financial stewardship must involve prioritizing their savings account. Why give money to the church when you aren’t certain you’ll be able to afford next year’s tuition or put down first-and-last on an apartment? How does it make sense to give money away when you have so little and need so much?
It doesn’t make sense. At least it doesn’t make sense by any standard principle of personal finance. But then again, God’s ways are rarely consistent with the human mind and often push us to reexamine what we have always taken for granted. In that vein, here are a few things I would encourage young or new Christians to consider.
Consider that your money is actually God’s money. While your name may be on the bank account and stamped on the debit card, it is God who owns it. You merely manage it on his behalf. And so as you consider your finances, the controlling question should not be “What should I do with my money?” but “What does God want me to do with his money?”
Consider the human tendency to become captivated by money. The Bible warns that money can control us to such a degree that it competes with God for our ultimately loyalty. Every one of us will be tempted to try to find in money what God means for us to find only in himself. Is there something we can do to prove to ourselves and to God that we put him ahead of money? Read on.
Consider that God promises to provide what you need. One of the reasons we can become so easily enamored with money is that it seems to be the solution to so many of our problems. Money can put food in our bellies, a roof over our head, and so much more. Yet it is God who has promised he will provide these things. Yes, he is likely to use money to do it, but it’s important to ultimately trust in him rather than in the strength of our bank account.
Consider that God expects you to commit some of your finances to his causes in the world. He makes it clear that he expects each Christian to give—and to give primarily and as a matter of first importance to the local church. He expects his work to carry on through the means provided by his people.
Finally, consider that obedience fosters joy. When you do what God calls you to do, you experience joy rather than guilt or sorrow. Hence, if you give to the Lord’s work, you’ll find it a joyful rather than difficult experience. In fact, when you choose not to give, you are denying yourself the pleasure of doing so.
With all of those building blocks in place, it falls to you to take God at his word. You do that by giving, and as you give you are essentially putting God to the test (though in a good and acceptable way). As you give you can prayerfully say to God, “I have trusted you with my soul and am now choosing to trust you with my money. This doesn’t really make sense to me, but I trust you. So please show me that your ways are better than my ways. Please show me that you will provide even as I give to your work. Please accept this gift and prove yourself to me.”
And he will. God cannot prove himself if you will not give him the opportunity. But he can and will prove himself once you create the context. He will prove that he will provide not despite your generosity, but because of it. Because when it comes to God, the normal, accepted, and seemingly common-sense principles of finance just don’t add up.
How much should you give? That is a whole different topic. But briefly, the Bible does not provide an exact amount or percentage, though the Old Testament tithe of ten percent of your income is probably a good place to begin. (And no, don’t get all hung up on pre-tax or post-tax income—just pick one and go with it.) My recommendation—and, to be clear, this is me and not the Bible speaking here—is that you should give enough that you notice it in some way. It is one thing to throw a few spare coins in the offering plate but another to give an amount that is noticeable and that actually makes a difference in your life. Perhaps that means you cannot buy something you had hoped to buy or that you’ll be heading into a new semester with a little less buffer than you had expected. But God knows and God honors that. That small sacrifice is one you can lay before him and joyfully do without for the sake of trusting him and serving his cause.