Where Am I? God in the Details of Life

Foreword

To remember literally means to member again. In the biblical sense, to remember means much more than recalling. For example, to remember Moses means he comes rushing from the past into the present as we think about his story. To remember Jesus, Peter or Paul means that they move in our minds from past tense to present tense. To remember Jesus in the sacrament of Holy Communion means to experience the real presence of Christ’s body and blood in, through and under the elements of bread and wine. In remembrance of me means much more than just recalling what Christ did in the past when he initiated the Lord’s Supper as an extension of the Passover.

The dictionary may say that to remember means to recollect, but for Christians this definition is far too small. Henri Nouwen, the Roman Catholic spiritual writer, puts it this way:

The strategy of the principalities is to disconnect us, to cut us off from the memory of God… To remember is not simply to look back at past events; more importantly, it is to bring these events into the present and celebrate them here and now. For Israel, remembrance means participation… The act of memory actualizes the past."[1]

Nouwen goes on to describe ministry and ministers in terms of memories and reminders:

If ministers are reminders, their first task is to offer space in which the wounded memories of the past can be reached and brought back into light without fear. When the soil is not plowed, the rain cannot reach the seeds; when the leaves are not raked away, the sun cannot nurture the hidden plants. So, also, when our memories remain covered with fear, anxiety, or suspicion, the word of God cannot bear fruit.[2]

That is what Andrew is doing in this memoir—to be a reminder for participation in the story of Christ, our Savior and Lord. That is what Andrew is offering—reminders of past highs and lows of believers for our present journey through the wilderness of life. That is what this memoir is about—past memories of God and the people of God which rush into the present and guide us today and tomorrow to make us witnesses and healers for God.

Memoirs are often too self-centered—too much I said, I did, I accomplished, I succeeded etc. Seeking to avoid the unholy trinity of me, myself and I in his memoir, Andrew tells many stories of other believers, as well as his own story, but mostly he points to the story of God making people wounded witnesses and healers.

A memoir is a book for remembering, a record of events written by a person having an intimate knowledge of past events based on personal observation. It is an autobiography, a journal of recollections. In the larger sense described above as actualizing the past, the memories in a memoir like Andrew’s bring events and/or people rushing into the present, provide categories and space for healing through trials and tribulations which otherwise cripple and kill. In addition to healing, a remembrance can be anticipatory of things to come, a preview of coming attractions, what the Bible calls an "arroban" (first fruits of the future as in Romans 8:23 and 1 Corinthians 15:23). In other words, memories of participation can provide insights into how to handle triumphs, trials and tribulations in the future.

Concretely, when Andrew recounts how he and Vallorie made their automobile trip from Tucson, Arizona, to Normal, Illinois, to surprise his parents for their 25th wedding anniversary (p. 62 ff), they experience many emotional and monetary tribulations as well as many high and holy answers to prayer. Like the counterpoint of a J. S. Bach cantata, the experiences of the trip bounced between very low and very high. The counterpoint of tribulations and answered prayer continued over and over again. Andrew and Val ran into car trouble that would not go away, followed by God answering prayers beyond expectations. This kind of memory not only helps the reader get into the story because most of us have had similar car troubles and setbacks, but in a larger sense, Andrew is describing the journey called life. In the story of this journey, we have previews of coming attractions in our own lives.

At certain times in the memoir, including this trip to Illinois, the reader thinks this Christian couple experiences so many answers to prayer and so many miracles that they are about to step across the line into the Promised Land of the theology of glory. Turn the page, and bam, boom, bang; depression and doubt swoop in as troubles compound and the Devil does his dirty work just like we all experience in our lives. But there is more. Implied throughout the journey from the west to the mid-west is the implication that this is more than a description of how life is; it is also a preview of how it will be on our future journey through the wilderness to the Promised Land.

In theological terms, Andrew avoids slipping into a theology of glory and holds firm to the theology of the cross as dramatically described by Martin Luther. Luther experienced what he called "anfectungen (soul despair), as well as a tower experience of holy enlightenment about faith. Saints down through the ages have experienced the Holy Spirit, but have also experienced what they called the dark night of the soul, when it seems that God who is always there is not there. At least it feels like he is not there. Passages in this memoir show the depression that Andrew experienced after the death of a friend. Both Andrew and Vallorie went into severe stress and the depths of near despair after the troubles connected with the birth of their third daughter. In addition, the death of an unborn child, and the troubles and suicide of a troubled teen-age girl they had befriended put them on The Devil’s Playground" of vulnerability and doubt. The personal intimacy that both of them experienced with God is only one side of their story. The other side is an experience of the apparent silence of God. The story rings true because Andrew shows us both sides of life this side of heaven. In other words, Andrew is not only spiritual; he is believable. He echoes the Psalms.

The Psalms provide us insight into believers saying about God or to God, "nevertheless as well as because. It is true that we say or pray, I believe because you, God, are good beyond our deserving, gracious beyond description and loving far beyond expectations. It is also true that believers can say or pray, There are dark mysteries beyond our knowing and times of deep suffering when you, God, seem to be silent, asleep or uncaring; nevertheless I am continually with thee" (Psalm 73:23).

John 16:33 says, In this world you will have trouble (another translation says tribulation), but take heart! I have overcome the world. Andrew shows both the trouble and tribulation on the one hand and the overcoming by God on the other. Acts 14:22 says, … Through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God. As a Black pastor in Chicago put it, If you ain’t tribulation’, you ain’t in the kingdom. The tribulation comes through in this autobiography as well as a holy foretaste of the kingdom of God. In other words, Andrew shows that he and his family are on a journey to the Promised Land, but are still struggling in the wilderness with the rest of us.

I met Andrew and Vallorie in 1983 when they started attending the church I served, Our Saviour’s Lutheran in Tucson, Arizona. I started out as their pastor, moved to being a kind of semi-father to Andrew when he was on the stewardship committee at church and eventually moved to being a friend, co-worker and fellow wounded healer as the years rolled by. My wife Joyce and I are part of the story in this memoir and we are glad to be here as we were glad to be in the story as it unraveled. As a reader of this story, perhaps you too will be drawn in as the past becomes the present and the present becomes a proleptic or preview of what will happen throughout the journey in the wilderness until at last when seeing God face to face replaces anticipation, beholding replaces hope and experience replaces memories.

Memories. At the beginning I mentioned that to remember literally means to member again. Actually it may mean to member again and again, as we think about Bible stories, Bible personalities, the struggles, tribulations and troubles Christians have, the promises God has made, the fulfillment of those promises as well as times of waiting, hope when there seems no reason to hope, times when we get to the end of our rope and just barely hang on because other Christians stand with us and hold us up when we are wiped out like a dish as to our own strength.

Memories. God helps us remember those people and events that bring healing and wholeness and forget those experiences and thoughts that threaten to defeat us. Maybe this anonymous poem will help you remember what is good and what is good to forget:

Always remember to forget the thing that made you sad.

But never forget to remember the thing that made you glad.

Always remember to forget the friends that proved untrue.

But don’t forget to remember those that stuck by you.

Always remember to forget the troubles that passed away.

But never forget to remember God’s blessings that come each day.

Memories. Maybe this memoir will help you, the reader, in those times of tribulation when it seems falsely, but really, that God is asleep in our boat as we perish, the Devil has grabbed the rudder and there is no more space for grace. The illusion at such times of depression is that God either does not care or that God is snoozing while we along with the world go to hell in a hand-basket. The reality is that God always has another move. That is what Andrew says over and over again. God is on this journey through the wilderness and God always has another move.

A man was in an art museum looking at a painting of the Devil on one side of a chess board and God on the other. He stared at the faces of Evil and Good, then at the pieces on the board, then at the title: Checkmate. He looked at the face of the Devil, smiling snidely. Then he looked back at the painting for over an hour. Finally, he jumped to his feet and shouted in the quiet museum, It’s a lie. God has another move! We seldom see it at first. Sometimes it takes us a long time to see it and in some cases we do not see it until we get to heaven, but it is always true, God has another move!

Ron Lavin

Author of Some Things I’ve Learned Since I Knew It All

October 2015

Preface

As I knelt at the reception table, Rolf Jacobson, professor at Luther Seminary, asked me a pointed question. Who’s your audience?

I smiled. Actually, I wrote this for my children and grandchildren. One of my best friends, Bob, wants me to submit the book to some publishers, but I’m not sure if I will. Having just asked Rolf to read a draft of my memoir, I added, I really value your opinion. Your theology is down to earth, not up in the clouds… and I don’t want to commit heresy. He flashed an impish grin.

Over the years, my three daughters have encouraged me to put pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard as the case may be, and write a memoir. When I served my pastoral internship, one of the members of Lord of Grace, Jynn Ehler, even tried convincing me to write a book. But I did not take her seriously and shrugged it off.

When my two elder daughters, Katharina and Victoria, were very young, I envisioned writing letters to all my children so they would know my great love for them. My plan was to keep the letters in a safe deposit box so they could receive them after I died. After stumbling upon a few of those tattered letters in a drawer, I realized I had never fulfilled my dream. Then one day in March of 2014, my youngest daughter, Elizabeth, asked me for stories about my life for an eighth grade English assignment. As I shared some of my memories and writings from the past twenty years, I decided that perhaps the time had finally arrived. Why wait until I die?

To be clear, this is not a how-to book. I do not offer seven steps to experiencing God or 40 days to growing closer to Jesus or 365 prayers that will transform your life. The Bible is far more than a how-to book—it is a powerful witness about the living God who pursues us, who does not give up on us and who walks with us in the details of life.

Before Jesus is taken up into heaven, he tells us in Acts 1:8, You will be my witnesses. So think of this memoir as both a love letter and a witness to the transformative presence of God in my life—for Jesus is my Lord, my Savior and my best friend. The famous architect, Ludwig Mies van der Rohe, was fond of saying, God is in the details. Unlike Mies, I am not famous—just an ordinary, sinful, fallible, middle-aged, former architect—but I have walked with God in the details of life. I have witnessed God move and act in my life as well as in and through the people around me.

In the pages that follow, I share details about the people in my life. These are real people and actual events. They are not composites. Generally, the writing is chronological, although occasionally I have taken some liberties to fit the flow of the narrative. It is possible your recollection of these events will differ from mine. Fair enough. Memory sometimes works that way. Nevertheless, I recorded most of these stories over the past thirty years on hand written notes or on the computer, sometimes in fine detail, in order to preserve them for posterity. My wife, Vallorie, (as well as some of the people I write about) helped confirm the details. Multiple brains are better than one.

Many of the names have either been changed to protect the innocent or eliminated altogether to preserve anonymity. Not everyone who has been an important part of my life is named. On one hand, I risk that someone may be upset because he is named. On the other hand, I worry that if I mention one person, another person will be hurt if he/she is not. If you search through the pages and fail to find your name, please forgive me. It does not mean you are unimportant. I did not intend to slight you or insult you or trivialize your impact on my life. It is simply a function of space and time. I also cannot possibly include every event in my life that formed and shaped me. I hope that the ones I chose to share will point to God in the details of life.

Some twenty years ago, I wrestled with the question, Where am I? I still wrestle. My guess is that others may wrestle too. Therefore, this question seems like a good place to start. So, here is the invitation…

The kingdom of God is at hand! God has taken the initiative. He is whispering your name and invites you to enter into the silence, to be quiet long enough to hear with a listening heart. It is an invitation that echoes through time and eternity. Approach his throne of grace with confidence. Come hang out with Jesus.

Acknowledgments

Life is all about relationships. If that was not true, I could not have written this memoir. So many people have been part of my life, that there are too many to thank.

I begin with my wife, Vallorie. You are the wind beneath my wings. Life is an adventure… I am so glad we are in this together.

To my children, Katharina, Victoria, Jonathan and Elizabeth, for the laughter, tears and cuddling, not to mention for putting up with me, loving me and forgiving me. You made the adventure worth it.

To my parents, Duane and Toni Schlecht, for believing in me and introducing me to Jesus. If not for you, I would not be here.

To John and Wedge Stewart, for welcoming me into your family as a son and showing me a Jesus I never knew.

To my pastors, teachers and professors, who faithfully planted the seed and entrusted it to others to water and harvest.

To my brother, Bob Schwandt, for his dedication, faithfulness, and editing so that the inside color matched the outside color. Hopefully, it will not face the same fate as a red shirt. Zonino!

To Sally Erickson and Ron Lavin for their invaluable suggestions and insights in reviewing the manuscript, as well as for Ron graciously writing his insightful Foreword.

To my grouping buddies as well as the entire Via de Cristo/Tirosh community for their faithfulness, prayers and encouragement. De colores!

To Kindred Lutheran Church and Lord of Grace, for being willing to take a chance on me, showering me with grace and letting me be me.

To the great cloud of witnesses that has gone before me and that has walked beside me for being examples of righteousness, faith and love. I sing the hymn For All the Saints. I know I have a lousy voice, so I will be out of tune. Nevertheless, I sing it with gusto:

For all the saints who from their labors rest,

who thee by faith before the world confessed,

thy name, O Jesus, be forever blest.

Alleluia! Alleluia!

Finally, I thank God for everyone who has been part of this adventure for sustaining me with your love, friendship, prayers, and generosity. I turn to Paul's letter to the Philippians 1:3-7:

I thank my God every time I remember you. In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now, being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. It is right for me to feel this way about all of you, since I have you in my heart…

I will indeed cherish all of you in my heart and remember you in my prayers. May you always know the powerful presence and love of God through Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior. May God grant you an abundant life filled with faith, hope, love and joy!

God loves you and so do I.

1. Draw Me a Circle

Let’s start by drawing a circle! Grab a pencil. Below is some empty space. Now go ahead and draw a circle—it does not have to be perfect. Give it your best shot:

Wonderful! The circle represents your universe. Next, draw a dot that represents where you are in the circle. Now draw a cross that represents Jesus.

Where are you? Where is Jesus? Does Jesus even fit into your life? Is he outside the circle? Maybe not even on the page. Even as a Christian, do not try fooling yourself. If you are honest, Jesus is not at the center of your universe.

The darkness was thick, as if a black velvet blanket enveloped the world. Our headlights revealed a dense forest of pine trees hugging the road. Their branches reached out to grab the van and scraped the sides, sounding like fingernails on a chalkboard. This was supposed to be a shortcut. But it obviously was not. Vallorie and I were no longer sure where we were, let alone how we were going to reach our destination. The year was 1994 and we had taken our children to Mount Rushmore. After a spectacular day, which culminated in the evening lighting program, we were now heading to our motel. But we were lost. Peering into the darkness, we kept asking ourselves, Where are we? There were no signs and no landmarks. The map was useless since we did not know where we were. We did not have a GPS navigation system because it was not available yet. (Do not laugh, but I still do not have one.)

As we continued to drive slowly, we could see nothing except for the trees and the darkness. I glanced at our gas gauge—it was approaching empty—and I warned Vallorie. O Lord, we prayed, please help us get to the next gas station before we run out of gas! Finally, we drove over a peak in the mountains and as we wound our way down we could see a light gleaming in the darkness. At the bottom, we discovered a small 1960’s era gas station with a single, old-fashioned gas pump. Praise the Lord! We all celebrated.

A bell rang when I opened the rickety wooden screen door. It felt a little eerie—like being in the movie Psycho. A thin, angular man greeted me. Hi. We’re so glad to see you! I exclaimed. Our tank is on empty. Can we buy some gas please? He rang up our purchase. (Thankfully, he accepted a credit card.) Excuse me, sir, I continued. Would you be able to give me directions?

After I told him our destination, his lips turned up in a crooked grin, You can’t get there from here.

I was shocked. What do you mean?

Well, the road doesn’t go there from here. You’ll need to continue down this road until you get to… His instructions were complicated, so I quickly wrote down notes on the back of the receipt.

As I climbed into the car, I told Val, The man said, ‘You can’t get there from here.’ I guess this wasn’t much of a short cut. She looked aghast. But now I know where we are and I have directions.

Life is like that. Often times, we travel through the darkness, lost and confused, unsure of where we are or, perhaps worse, convinced we know where we are when we are really lost. Our tank is on empty—we are physically, emotionally and spiritually drained. Sometimes, we do not even know where we are going. In order to reach our destination, though, we need to answer truthfully the question, Where am I? In the same way, where you are in your relationship with Jesus is vital—it is a matter of life and death… and life. Our relationship with God begins with Christ and ends with Christ, for Jesus is the first and the last, the beginning and the end, the alpha and the omega. As my good friend, Bob Schwandt, once observed, We make a thousand decisions every day to move toward Christ or away from Christ. Where are you?

We live most of our lives as functional atheists. In church, we proclaim, Jesus is Lord, yet we often live as if he does not exist. Except, of course, when we need something from him—then we treat him like a genie subject to our every whim and desire. Have you seen Disney’s movie Aladdin? I have four children, so I have long since lost track of how many times I have seen it. One of my favorite scenes is when the Genie exclaims, "I HAVE PHENOMENAL COSMIC POWERS, but an itty-bitty living space!" Isn’t that how we frequently treat God? The creator of the universe and what do we do? We put him in an itty-bitty living space and believe we can control and manipulate him, afraid to let him out, to be a central part of our lives. Egocentric, we place ourselves at the center of the circle and act as if the whole world revolves around us and what we want.

You know it is true. We stand in the checkout line at the store grumbling about people taking too long, especially the clerk. Why? Because like Joseph in the Old Testament, we live as if the sun, the moon and the stars revolve around us. Martin Luther defined sin as curving inward on ourselves.[3] Our wants, our needs, our desires take center stage. We rationalize our sin. We rationalize our selfishness. Even when we are altruistic, our motives can be questionable—it makes us feel good, it looks good on our résumé, it impresses others, we hope they will reciprocate, it will help us get into heaven or at least put us on God’s good side. It cannot hurt! Right?

Therein lies the challenge. We exalt self-centeredness, self-gratification, self-sufficiency, self-aggrandizement and self-righteousness. Our false gods include pleasure, comfort, convenience, security, money, power, sex, and fame—in short, me, myself and I. Demanding instant gratification, we indulge anything that satisfies our narcissistic desires. Our culture spouts catchy slogans such as rugged individual, do your own thing, just do it, and two for me, none for you. Forgiveness, salvation, righteousness and eternal life become prizes we win, grades we earn, goals we achieve or targets we hit. In our arrogance, we may yield to one of two errors: either that we can prove ourselves worthy to God (I am a good person and better than most) or that we are utterly worthless to God (I am not good enough and God could never love or forgive me).

As a man, developing close, supportive relationships is not my strength. I define who I am by what I do. After all, one of the first questions I ask when I meet a new person is "What do you do?" Do not misunderstand, work is a gift from God—not a curse. We were not created to simply exist. However, did God fashion us solely to tend the garden of Eden? Of course not. God created us in his image to be in relationship with him and with one another (Genesis 2:18-24; Matthew 22:34-40), that we might live an abundant life (John 10:10). He blessed us and gave us the ability to think, to create, to invent, to act, to share, to risk and to love. Our lives have purpose, value and meaning. Our relationship with God defines who we are. But just as Adam and Eve questioned their relationship with God, I sometimes doubt my relationship with him and define myself apart from God.

That is why I have wrestled for some twenty years with the question, "Where am I?" Who or what is at the center of my universe? Me? My spouse? My children and grandchildren? Career? Money? Success? The church? Where am I in relation to Jesus? Am I moving toward him or away from him? Is Jesus on the fringe, maybe even outside the circle—out there, somewhere, in a galaxy far, far away? You see, to Jesus, where I am in my relationship with him is far more important than what I do.

I will never forget the time I read John 15:13-17 when I was about thirty years old. Jesus said to me, Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends… You did not choose me, but I chose you. Wow! Jesus chose me to be his friend. That completely blew me away! Not only did Jesus call me his friend, but he lay down his life for me. God does not require perfection, if by that we mean being error free and sinless. God requires faithfulness and obedience to our Lord Jesus Christ. He knows who I really am. He knows my deepest, darkest secrets. He knows my failures and my fears. He knows everything I have ever done. And guess what? He still loves me!

Now just to be clear, there is nothing special or unique about me. I am an ordinary man. I have no amazing talents. I have not achieved unusual success. I have made no great discoveries. Certainly, I must be among the world’s worst athletes. I like to think I have an above average intelligence (do not snicker—give me a little credit here). I am not more spiritual than others nor am I a super-Christian. As the Lord declares through the prophet Jeremiah:

Let not the wise boast of their wisdom

or the strong boast of their strength

or the rich boast of their riches,

but let the one who boasts boast about this:

that they have the understanding to know me,

that I am the LORD, who exercises kindness,

justice and righteousness on earth,

for in these I delight (Jeremiah 9:23-24).

To top it off, I do not have all the answers—despite the fact that my children say, Dad is perfect and knows everything. I am passionate about Jesus, but I do not live in a perpetual state of spiritual euphoria. I believe that Jesus is my Lord and Savior, but I struggle with unbelief. I hope and I get discouraged. I do what I do not want to do, and do not do what I want to do. I love and I get angry. I worry about tomorrow and forget the lessons of yesterday. I succeed and I fail. I fall down and I get back up. I get lost and then am found.

In the pages that follow, I share some of the details of my life, but not because they are unique or special. Just the opposite. It is in the ordinary details of life that I have experienced God—his very real power and presence and love. Who I am is grounded in where I am in my relationship with Jesus. When I abide in him, I experience a joy and peace that words cannot express. Daily I have to remind myself to move from the center of the circle and invite Christ to be at the center of my life. It is all about Jesus. Perhaps that is another way to look at repentance.

When I was a child, I was told not to point. Especially at other people. Why not? It is not polite. Plus, if you point at someone, you would have three fingers pointing back at you. Of course, then we became smarty pants and invented creative ways of pointing—like with the back of our finger, or turning our body just so or doing that funny little head tilt and eye roll while we whisper, Look over there. Wait, not yet. They’ll know we’re talking about them.

Well, John the Baptist was a pointer. That is right. He pointed. It is said that when the great theologian Karl Barth would talk with a visitor about his work, he would direct them to look at a painting hanging in his study by Matthias Grünewald. Look at John the Baptist pointing at Jesus, he would say. I want to be that finger. I want to be a sign pointing to the victory of Christ. I too want to point to Jesus. My hope is that as you continue to read, I point to him, not to myself, so that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name (John 20:31).

2. In the Beginning

If you are like me, I am good at bragging about my successes in life, business and even the church. As head of marketing for my architecture firm, I wrote more than my share of résumés touting my accomplishments. While writing this book, however, I had a disquieting dream. The faces of all the people I had failed in my life appeared in rapid succession: my wife, son and daughters, friends, family, parishioners, as well as people in our community. Anxiety welled up in my chest. So my intention is not to focus on my successes. Consequently, just for the record, I will answer the question, Who am I? as succinctly as possible.

My name is Andrew James Schlecht. I have been married for over thirty years to a wonderful woman of faith, Vallorie, and we have been blessed with amazing children—Katharina, Victoria, Jonathan, Elizabeth and their wonderful spouses Kyle, Christopher and Alex. I have been blessed with four fantastic grandchildren—Kaedence, Alanna, Korina and Rebekka. They are all among my greatest joys.

After graduating from the University of Arizona in 1985, I was an architect for roughly twenty years, including co-owner and President of Merry Carnell Schlecht, a successful architecture firm in Tucson, for about ten years. From 2004 to 2008, I attended both Fuller Seminary and Luther Seminary while I worked as an architect for Lloyd Construction. Since 2008, I have served as pastor in Kindred, North Dakota, at Kindred Lutheran Church—an amazing community of faith. I continually thank God for the people of Kindred. From the fullness of God’s grace, I have received one blessing after another! No matter my occupation, my vocation is to be the hands and feet and mouthpiece of God.

In Isaiah 43:1 it is written, Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. God has called me by name and claimed me as his very own son. For the Hebrew people, names were not merely labels; they