Hendersonhome Chronicles » Tom Henderson

…aaaaaand, we’re back. (Announcements)

Tom Henderson — Thu, 04 Jun 2009 05:44:00 +0000

I’m still sorting through all the changes, but I think for the most part, the move was successful. If you see anything strange (and, by that I mean “out of the ordinary” for us) please let me know.

Mackinac Island trip pictures coming soon…

A Change is Gonna Come… (Announcements)

Tom Henderson — Fri, 15 May 2009 15:53:00 +0000

I’m in the process of moving HendersonHome.net to an actual, honest-to-gosh hosting service. That way, it can be taken care of by people who know what they are doing. I hope that there will be little to no interruption of this blog, but that’s not the way things tend to work.

So, if you some here and see something unexpected, please be patient. Come back later, ‘k?

Tom

For My Bride (Deb, Temporal Echoes of the Eternal)

Tom Henderson — Fri, 08 May 2009 10:07:00 +0000

All truth ultimately comes from God; it just comes through some odd routes. I turned on the radio a few minutes ago, and listened to this song. The poignancy and timing struck me, and I couldn’t resist the impulse to blog about it.

This Sunday marks the first of many firsts through the course of the next 10 months: it’s the first Mother’s Day without Ian. There’s nothing I can do to make it better; it, like all the other firsts, will have to be endured. Yet, listening to this song, it felt like God was saying: Yes, I know that you miss your son. I know it hurts; I felt the same hurt while My Son was on the cross, and I turned my back to him. I feel your pain as well. But, in truth, it won’t be long until you get to see and hold Ian again. Please remember that, in light of eternity, this suffering is lasting but a moment. I made it possible for you to see your son again, and you will hold him once more.

Deb, I love you. Before we know it, we will hear Ian’s laugh again.

Mother and Child Reunion
by Paul Simon

No I would not give you false hope
On this strange and mournful day
But the mother and child reunion
Is only a motion away

Oh, little darling of mine
I can’t for the life of me
Remember a sadder day
I know they say let it be
But it just don’t work out that way
And the course of a lifetime runs
Over and over again

No I would not give you false hope
On this strange and mournful day
But the mother and child reunion
Is only a motion away

Oh, little darling of mine
I just can’t believe its so,
And though it seems strange to say
I never been laid so low
In such a mysterious way
And the course of a lifetime runs
Over and over again

But I would not give you false hope
On this strange and mournful day
When the mother and child reunion
Is only a moment away

Who Has Whom (Tom, Graces and Mercies)

Tom Henderson — Fri, 01 May 2009 12:54:00 +0000

But He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.
- 2 Corinthians 12:9-10

When I was in college, I had opportunity to go rappelling a few times. The first time, I was…a little apprehensive. The first time I went down the side of a cliff, I took little hops, clinging to the rope for dear life. I’m sure the others at the top of the cliff were getting impatient, waiting for me to slowly make my way to the ground.

The man who was holding my rope on the ground, wanted me to know how safe I truly was, despite what my senses were telling me. At one point, he pulled the rope until it was taught. Because of the mechanics involved, I was suddenly unable to continue my descent.

“Tom,” he called out, “I want you to let go of the rope.”

The best I could give him at that point was a nervous chuckle. I am suspended on the side of a cliff, approximately 150 feet above the ground. This guy wants me to let go of the one thing that is keeping me from becoming one with the dirt below.

“Tom, I’m not going to let you go any further until you let go of the rope.”

I wasn’t in the strongest of negotiating positions. I slowly released my grip, but kept my hands close to the rope so that I could grab it quickly when I would surely start plummeting.

“Now I want to see your hands.”

Once again, a quick review of my options brought me to the same conclusion as before. I stretched my hands out to my sides, but kept my elbows close to my body. However, it was beginning to dawn on my that my fears were unfounded.

“Stretch your arms out.”

I stretched my arms all the way out, and began to revel in freedom I was feeling.

“Now lean back.”

I relaxed in my newfound safety, and the resulting freedom. As soon as I was on the ground, I couldn’t wait for my next turn to go down. When that opportunity came, I jumped as far away from the rock wall as I could, to see how far I could descend with each hop.

In a similar way, I’m learning how to relax in God’s grace. For the past few weeks, I have been very focused on entertainment. It’s been much easier to be Gordon Freeman than to be Tom Henderson. It’s been more enjoyable to think about wererabbits. And yet, I feel the need (and, to some extent, the desire) to spend time with my Lord. I know that this isn’t a matter of salvation; that has been secured once and for all. This is more of a matter of my relationship with God. I know from personal experience and from scripture that I must cling to Him tightly for spiritual and emotional protection. But, I’m having trouble wanting to. The best I can muster at this point is that I want to want to be with him.

Does it have something to do with some unresolved anger? Possibly. Is it a character flaw? If so, add it to the pile. But one thing I am coming to know more fully: He understands, much more than I will ever know. While I am now becoming suspicious that there is a turmoil in my heart that I can only barely feel, God sees it clearly and in His wisdom knows exactly how to lead me through it. I trust that in the years to come, I will learn to put words to what has happened. In the meantime, I take comfort in the fact the He holds me tighter than I can ever hold him. He knows my heart, and He loves me anyway. He isn’t letting me go anywhere.

And that is a good thing. Because I’m also becoming suspicious that it will take us much longer to heal from the events of the last year than I ever expected.

Still Here? (Taking Stock, Tom)

Tom Henderson — Sat, 18 Apr 2009 06:05:00 +0000

Is anyone still here?

I’m sure that anyone who has been reading this blog (thank you, both of you) would ask the same thing. It’s been a month since I last put anything up, in Internet time, that’s an eternity.

I wasn’t intentionally not blogging, but any post I thought about, I mentally edited until I had myself convinced that it wasn’t worth typing. Nevertheless, I remember that when I was posting regularly, I felt better. I was doing better. I have fallen off numerous wagons over the few months, and it’s time to get back on them, one by one.

How Am I?
I’m…still grieving. This shouldn’t come to anyone’s surprise. And I know that the events of the past year will never completely heal. That’s just the way we’re made. And yet, I’m ready to stop hurting. I’m not trying to forget Ian; I look at pictures and video too much for that to happen. But, I’m just tired of the grief and the emotional pain.

To that end, I’ve been letting myself get very distracted. Everyone has their own addictions. Mine is entertainment. A month ago, in a moment of weakness, I bought an XBox 360. A more accurate term for this device would be “time sink”. It didn’t help matters that one of the first games I purchased was perhaps the most engaging game I have every played. Only lately have I been able to consciously not turn the blasted thing on when I have a few free moments. And it doesn’t help that the thing will play Netflix movies over the ‘Net.

What Am I Doing?
I’m busy in other areas. I’ve started Phase II of Heart of a Warrior, called Focus of a Warrior. It’s a nine month program that is designed to help me narrow down why I’ve been put on this earth. Also, I’m back playing bass (and, hopefully, other instruments) in the music ministry at our church. There are house projects galore that are being addressed. Oh, yeah–and my job is in the busiest season of the year.

What Has Been My Input?
I’ve been reading, at least as much as I ever have. I finished Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller fairly quickly. I also buzzed through Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell. At the moment, I’m reading unChristian by David Kinnaman and Gabe Lyons. All three of these books seem to be God’s way of telling me that a change is coming.

The biggest part of me wants to put This Bloody Season behind me and rest. I’m tired, and I want to relax. I want to stay in my basement, enjoy my little addiction and let the world rot. It has disappointed me; I’ll just wait for the next one, thank you very much. But that’s not what I signed up for. And, ultimately, I know that it won’t satisfy or bring me joy. Happiness, yes. But, to paraphrase C.S. Lewis, if I want happiness, I can go find it in a bottle of beer and a game. Ultimately, I do want more. Or, more accurately, I want to want more.

To that end, the next book in my queue is When I Don’t Desire God by John Piper. I’ve read the first chapter, and immediately backed off. I recognized that this book cannot be read then put aside, at least if I want to gain anything from it. I’m going to have to read this one slowly, and mentally chew on it. I’ll probably approach it like I did my penultimate life-changing book, Victory Over the Darkness by Neil Anderson. If it’s going to do me any good, I will need to read each chapter two or three times, highlighting and making notes in the margin as I go. I’ll need to write down questions for myself. The bottom line is that either God (not his creation, but God Himself) is not only able to satisfy, but will bring me the highest form of joy, or not. I believe the question for that one is answered by only me. Am I willing to forgo other pleasures in order to find my complete joy in Him?

I guess I’ll find out. I told a friend about this book, and she requested that I blog about it as I read it. I can see that being a helpful way to process through the material. So, I guess you will find out, too.

PS — If you clicked on some of the book links above, then I hope you’ll agree; Amazon owes me something…

Inappropriate Responses (I See Clueless People)

Tom Henderson — Tue, 17 Mar 2009 06:23:00 +0000

For the record: if someone tells you that they just lost their only child, the correct response is not to say, “Awww, that’s too bad. Well, you should have another one…or adopt.” And then keep on talking about how wonderful kids are.

Are we clear? Good.

Global Food Crisis Day (Doing Something)

Tom Henderson — Wed, 11 Mar 2009 07:25:00 +0000

During Ian’s last couple of weeks, one phrase that was always heard was “I’m hungry.” As the tumor grew into his hypothalamus, his little brain was fooled into thinking that he was never satisfied. As a parent, it was wrenching to know that I could not satisfy my child’s hunger, even it if wasn’t real.

Listening to the radio this morning, I found out that today (3/11/2009) is Global Food Crisis Day. Between the time I went to sleep last night and woke up this morning 25,000 children died simply because the food they needed to survive wasn’t near them. Their hunger is real. The food exists, we just need to get it to them.

Please go to Compassion International’s page and consider helping feed a child in the name of Jesus.

This Bloody Season (Tom, Graces and Mercies)

Tom Henderson — Wed, 18 Feb 2009 14:48:00 +0000

I guess I’m ready to write this post, now.

For anyone who hasn’t been paying attention, Ian went to be with our Lord at Midnight on Thursday, February 19th. He left peacefully, and for that we are grateful.

I guess I’m handling things much better than I had ever imagined. Before we ever knew about the tumor, I always put an event like this into a strictly theoretical, almost academic light. If something were to happen to Ian, then I would give myself permission to completely lose it. “Losing it” took any number of self-destructive behaviors that I don’t need to go into now. Suffice to say that if I were to do that, I would no longer care about my wife, my relationship with God, my friends and family, much less myself.

But, that’s not where I find myself right now, and I’m surprised. I remember the emotional minefield that I was walking back in May, when we received our initial diagnosis. Holding my composure became all I could do. Every so often, I would trigger an emotional mine and the grief would overtake me. Eventually, I stopped fighting it and allowed myself to weep when it occurred, so that the pain wouldn’t be prolonged.

In November, when we received news that the tumor was regrowing, I found myself in the same minefield, but this time I knew how to walk it better. As Ian continued to change and decline, I discovered, my grief having found its outlet, that I was better able to take care of him. In this past week, I came to the point where I could honestly ask God for His mercy, knowing what that meant. Until that point, I was clinging to my little boy, hoping for a healing but willing to keep him in his broken state, just for my own selfishness.

Now, Ian is running on legs that are stronger than any decathelete. He sees more clearly than anyone on this Earth ever has, taking in colors that I have never imagined. He is hearing music sung to the Lord of Hosts that is woven with tones more exquisite than anything conceived here. He is becoming acquainted with people who have loved him before he was born, and at least one or two that loved him in this world.

Most of all, he is in the presence of the One who made him, the One who loved him first and the One who loves him best. If scripture is to be believed…and it is…then Ian, in his new body, has met Jesus, in His redeemed body. To say that Ian is in the presence of the Lord is not a mystical concept, nor is it third-person. I have been in the presence of Paul Simon and Bono in that we were in the same room with one another, but that room was huge, and there was no interaction. Those men were not conscious of me in any way. On the other hand, Ian is in the presence of the King of Creation, who is intimately aware of Ian’s presence, and was excited for this to occur. They are together in the same way as when he and I would lock arms in a hug: bodily, emotionally and spiritually. On Thursday morning, Ian fulfilled that for which he was created, and the desires of Yahweh were complete: The King of the universe was finally in perfect communion with His beloved creation.

I realize that when I mourn, I mourn for myself. As a father who has lost intimate contact with his son, I have a dim insight into how God has mourned for the relationship He desires with each of us until we are reconciled through Christ. I have not “lost” my son, and it’s unfortunate that term is often used out of convenience. The only thing lost is contact, and even that is temporary. We have merely prepared and sent him ahead to the new home where we will meet again.

* * *

I’ve titled this post This Bloody Season, and that is what I have come to call the last nine months. “Bloody” was the most polite way I came up with to accurately describe how I feel. I haven’t used the phrase here, because it denotes an anger that I didn’t want broadcast to the world. This Bloody Season is now coming to a close.

But, after next weekend, This Bloody Season will start to fade, and the next one will dawn. Deb and I have wondered both individually and together what the next season will look like. We will have more freedom, but we are different people than we were before Ian was born. I’m sure that we will travel more. Hopefully, we will watch TV less (and at least watch better content.) Now that God has removed some dreams but fulfilled our biggest one, we wait for Him to give us new ones.

Update: If I were to make a bet, then I would guess that a trip to Colorado is in the future. And Bermuda…

I Want to Remember

Tom Henderson — Tue, 17 Feb 2009 22:32:00 +0000

Last night, we watched videos and looked at pictures of our Make-a-Wish trip to Florida. The little boy we saw there is almost nothing like the one sleeping in the next room. The Ian we took to Florida was so much closer to the one I remember from before last May. In the coming months, I will be pouring through stacks of video tapes, trying to get them copied to our hard drives. I’m hoping that as I go back through the years, I will remember more clearly the little boy that he was.

I want to remember the little boy who wanted me to time him running around our house, and tried to do it faster each lap. I want to forget the little boy who cannot stand anymore.

I want to remember the little boy who enjoyed singing, not the one who struggles to speak a couple of words.

I want to remember the little boy who had a permanent sparkle in his eyes, not the one who stuggles to see my face.

I want to remember the little boy who couldn’t wait to be done with supper so that we could play, and forget the one who only feels hunger, and is never satisfied.

I want to remember that Ian, so that when I see him again, I’ll recognize him.

Benefit Information (Graces and Mercies)

Tom Henderson — Fri, 13 Feb 2009 22:51:00 +0000

Friends at the company where I work (Data Recognition Corporation) have organized three benefit opportunities for our family:

CiCi’s Pizza in Plymouth has graciously agreed to host a day where you can eat pizza for Ian! On Wednesday, February 18th, if you mention the Ian Henderson benefit at the register, CiCi’s will donate to our benefit fund.

On February 23rd, a raffle will be held! Prizes include: a $50 movie gift certificate, a Nikon CoolPix S202 camera, an iPod Nano, and a Nintendo Wii!

A silent auction will also be held on February 23rd. Items up for bid include rounds of golf, a muskie fishing trip, jewelry and more!

Information about these opportunities can be found at http://ianhendersonbenefit.shutterfly.com/.

Update: If you do not live in the Minneapolis/St. Paul area, but wish to participate in either the auction or the raffle, please contact Julie Albertson at 612-327-5972, or at albertsons@comcast.net. Thanks, Julie!