Mark Szewczak

God’s Love, by Mark Szewczak

I’m so blessed to welcome Mark Szewczak back to my corner of cyberspace. If you missed his last reflection about life in an empty nest, do go read it. Thanks to Mark for sharing his wisdom and tender heart with all of us and for his reminder of how much God loves us.

–

Recently I have noticed a number of mom bloggers writing about their day-to-day lives filled with kids, laundry, housework. They write to encourage and share with others similarly situated. As an older dad, I find I can identify in some specific ways with what they write. They speak to me in a surprisingly personal way.

But I need to share something. I find myself being choked up when I read of a little one having a 104 degree fever and crying in pain from an ear infection. I feel for the mother who is now without sleep for umpteen nights and beginning to doubt her sanity. I sense a dad helpless to fix things (it’s what we guys think we are supposed to do) and wanting to stay home from work, but knowing that means not getting a full paycheck or receiving a black mark at work which hurts his family, his responsibility. I read of a family with a child having a serious chronic disease and my hearts bleeds inside.

Where does this personal connection come from? When I was younger I stuffed some of these things for selfless and selfish reasons. My wife and I have been through all these things and indeed have a child with a major life-long medical issue who is now a happy adult. Why wasn’t I closer to this tearing-up point back 20 years ago? How did we, then, and these parents, now, handle it all?

“Why” and “How” questions come easier to me now. Answers, not so much. In pondering all of this I have begun to understand in a veiled way what it means when we hear that God shares our sorrows.

Having this intensified empathy lately is, I think, a gift from God. You see, God is empathy. It is a manifestation of His being Love. God so loves us that He completely experiences our sorrows, struggles, pains and joys along with us. He isn’t “up there,” He is right here.

Having this starting point, I begin to ponder the next “why” question: why does it continue, why does He let it happen? Now if you think I have got the answer to THAT one, well…oh my, no. But then again, having gone through my life to this point somehow has brought me to a more compassionate place.

When I was young I thought as a young man, full of myself, my learning, my ideas of HOW THINGS SHOULD BE. Now I am older and learning something new: that it isn’t all about me. It’s about all of us.

I cannot be a member of Christ’s Body if I am not aiming to be in tune as He is in tune…each cry, each laugh, each tear. For me, it is taking a long time to get that point. God has been training me in life, in the school of struggle and suffering so I can KNOW the suffering and struggles of my fellow sisters and brothers in the Body of Christ.

What he is telling me is that THIS is my job, to be His compassion, His empathy, His hands, His words, His LOVE to everyone I meet. When that happens in my imperfect way, God does act to stop the suffering, heal the torment, and bring joy. It takes me to be open to His promptings. I pray I stay on the road to bring the Good news to the next person, who takes it to the next…and the next. It is as St. Teresa of Avila tells us:

“God has no hands but our hands to do his work today;
God has no feet but our feet to lead others in his way;
God has no voice but our voice to tell others how he died;
and, God has no help but our help to lead them to his side.”

image source

Guest Post: Empty Nest, by Mark Szewczak

One of the greatest blessings of my blogging has been meeting friends who are not “virtual” at all, but who are real. Mark Szewczak has been one such friend for me for a year or so. Together with his wife, Nancy, he has inspired me with his ongoing faith, his honesty about his struggles, and his unconditional support. Today, he shares a reflection about his role as a father in an almost-empty nest.

Mark, with his wife Nancy

–

A few days ago after a windy, stormy night I came across a bird’s nest lying on the grass. It was from last season and the storm had dislodged it. It was still one of God’s marvels even after having spent the winter high in a tree untended and falling 40 feet to the ground.

Looking it I felt a twinge of sadness. The fine weaving work, now discarded and a bit rumpled, was once the nursery for a family of birds. What happened to those babies? Did the parents survive the rough winter?

But there was also a deeper, more personal sadness. I am a dad of three adult kids and our youngest will be leaving home next year to marry and start her own family.

My wife and I spent have spent most of our married time raising these kids to be adults. We (mostly she) did the day-to-day work of cooking, laundry, carting them from place to place — you know the drill.

Somewhere in the spare minute when we weren’t too tired, my wife and I would speak of the why behind our daily what, where, when, how. We reminded each other that these children were on loan to us. We needed to prepare them to leave their home and go into the world and do good, honoring Christ by serving their neighbors.

I won’t pretend we were perfect or always confident about it, and we sure made our share of mistakes. Somehow through the grace of God in our lives, time passed, our children grew, and now we are facing the ”empty nest” time of our lives.

I think it’s OK to feel a little lost. In the midst of the complete love we share as a family and as individuals, it is a life change for my wife and me. We have shifted from caregivers and nurturers to confidants and advisors.

While my wife and I are relearning what it means to be a couple, the excitement of being able to consider “what’s next” is now part of what we think about before falling asleep or during daydream moments.

Both of these observations are grounded in what I continue to learn from our heavenly Father. He is my confidant, my safety net, and my Dad, who makes me smile, who tells me I am worthwhile, who loves me so completely that it’s crazy.

He taught me what it means to be a dad. He was there when I didn’t know what I was doing.

Now I need to remember to trust Him with the next phase of our lives, the “empty” part. I suspect He has plans for us so that life won’t be empty at all. Alone I give into the sadness of what has ended, clutching the remnants of the past. My prayer these days is to embrace this season, let go, and follow His lead.

“There is an appointed time for everything, and a time for every affair under the heavens.” Eccl 3:1