Skip to main content

No News is Good News?



Someone recently asked me how Dad was doing. My initial reaction was to say, "No news is good news." But that didn't seem right because the statement implies that there IS good news. There might not be more additional good news but the good news is still active and alive and should be spoken!

In Dad's case here's the good news: His last oncologist appointment was on November 18th. The x-ray still shows that his lungs remain clear—this is miraculous. His strength is back to almost 100% and he is back working at about 80%. He is preaching, ministering, praying, loving, laughing, crying, mourning—he is alive and living it to the fullest. We are thankful.

But this kind of good news is temporal. One day Dad will die. It could be tomorrow or in twenty or twenty-five more years. Only God knows. Will that be a day when there is no more good news?

There is a reason the gospel is called The Good News. It was Good News thousands of years ago, it is Good News today and it will continue to be Good News long after Dad's and our time on earth has come and gone. This is Good News of eternal value and hope; the Good News we cling to when bad news comes crashing in. It's the joy of what He has done, is doing, and what is coming. So while we praise God and thank Him for the good news we can report on behalf of Dad, we can continue to praise God and thank Him for THE GOOD NEWS that we cannot contain—the coming of a Saviour, His death and resurrection, and the hope we have in Him. There can never be "No News is Good News" with that kind of Good News. It must be proclaimed.

Spread THE GOOD NEWS! Joy to the World, the Lord has come!




Comments

  1. Brilliant! So well-written and true. We continue to hold you all in prayer, in hope!

    ReplyDelete
  2. So good! Thanks for sharing the Good News! We rejoice to see David in the office more regularly. God be praised.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Lead well.

We’ve hit a steep part of the climb. We found out most of this news on Wednesday, April 24th. You're finding out now because nothing was conclusive and Dad wanted all the i's dotted and t's crossed before sharing anything.

His cancer is stage 4, aggressive and, according to doctors, not curable. It's in both lungs and also in his spine. The doctors are doing what they can to give us as much time as possible.

This is hard news. Yes. But I need to tell you about when we received the news, as his children, on Wednesday, April 24th.

Everything I just shared with you was shared with us that night. Mom and Dad expressed great thankfulness for the kindness they had received at the hospital and they told us about the wonderful doctor and compassionate nurse. And then Dad, thorough his tears but with deep conviction, said:

"You need to know that Christianity is true. Mom and I haven't given our lives to the cause of Christ on a whim. Jesus is alive. Everything He said…

He is good.

When Dad called us to tell us that he had been diagnosed with lung cancer, we were all in a state of shock. At the end of the call, my brother, Josh, prayed and thanked God for who He is and that we can trust Him with anything. When talking with my sister, Beth, she shared that she had been praying that we would want above all else the Healer, not the healing, and the Saviour, not the saving. It's not what we hold on to in this journey, but who.

My response is usually to write something so I wrote a poem:

I know you are good
It's all that I know
Everything else is uncertain
Your goodness is sure
Your love surrounds me
Your peace is secure
You hold me in the storm
You hide me in your arms
I'm fixed to you—not going anywhere
You will never let me go
For you are good

No one in our family thinks that our journey is the only one. Many of you reading this have walked a similar, or harder, path and have your own stories to tell. Our story is one of many. Our prayer is that our s…

Carried.

I woke up on Thursday, May 2nd in a fog. A few nights of little sleep along with the emotions of the journey had taken its toll. I stumbled into the kitchen after the kids got off to school, made myself some breakfast, sat, and ate it. Friends of my parents were staying with us and the conversation around the table was muted.

After breakfast, I got a grocery bag out and got ready to take my guests to the store. I put my shoes on. I realized that I was supposed to be fasting. I felt like a failure. How could I have forgotten something so important? I had written a blog post inviting you all to join us for crying out loud. I stood at the front door in a daze. I looked at my dad's good friend and said, "I was supposed to be fasting."

He put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Jordan, let the church carry you."

How you all have carried us thus far. There are no adequate words. The gratitude in our hearts overflows. Thank you for joining us in fasting and prayer. We…