Ryan Guard

3 Years Ago Today

Lindsay had a miscarriage three years ago today. We knew it was coming, but we had no idea how painful it would be.

Lindsay started experiencing a lot of physical pain that Saturday afternoon. We knew it was time to head to the hospital. I don’t know why I didn’t just call an ambulance… I felt like I could get there faster. I think I was right. I probably hit 140 down the I-5 in California, weaving in and out of traffic on my way there. For some reason I was worried that things would go really wrong and I’d lose her too. She was hurting bad… worse pain than I’d ever seen anyone experience.

The doctors and nurses at that hospital were the most inconsiderate monsters I’ve ever met. I can’t remember the name of the hospital, otherwise I’d post it so that you never, ever go there. Ever. My wife and I were going through hell (mostly my wife at this moment), and they acted like we were invisible. Even Jesus would have flipped some tables in that place.

OK so here’s the crazy thing…

I had already agreed to speak at a Winter Camp the following weekend. For some reason Lindsay and I decided that I should still do it. She insisted that she’d be OK and that I should go. Honestly, I had no desire to go, but my sermons were already prepared and the guy who asked me to come was a good friend, so I went.

We adopted Griffin last year. He’s the greatest gift ever. I can’t imagine my life without him. All that gushy stuff…

His birth parents were in the crowd at that camp. So, the same week that Lindsay has a miscarriage, I’m speaking to hundreds of students at a camp, two of which will change our lives forever.

Seriously, God?

I don’t always understand what God is doing, or isn’t doing, or why He is or isn’t doing things… but I know enough about Him that I can trust Him. I don’t know why we lost that baby. Maybe there isn’t a reason. Maybe our bodies are just broken bodies that lose babies. Honestly, I don’t like any of the answers I’ve ever heard as to why miscarriages happen… even the theologically sound ones. I just know that it sucked, but that God was behind the scenes that week, orchestrating a future for Lindsay and I that we could have never imagined.

I wish the miscarriage never happened. I wish we had a two-year-old AND Griffin. But I love Griffin, I love Lindsay and I trust God because of His great love for us.

One Word Resolution

There are plenty of things that need to change in my life. That last sentence didn’t surprise anyone that knows me well. Sure, I’ve got some good things going for me, but even this sentence is an attempt to take the sting off the first sentence. If I listed them all here, and then attached resolutions for each one of them, we’d all be exhausted. It just wouldn’t be realistic, and goals should be attainable.

So I’m pursuing one word for 2012… just one. I want this one word to mold me, shape me, and push me to squeeze as much life as I can out of this year.

My word isn’t a fun word, or a new word. It isn’t very creative or original. 

My word is OBEDIENCE.

I have plenty to learn in life, but I need to be obedient to what I already know. I always want to read the latest book, or learn the latest method… but what I really need is a deeper conviction to be obedient to the truths I already know.

What kind of man will I be in December of 2012 if I submit myself to being obedient to God in every moment of every day next year? What would my marriage look like if I was obedient to the word of God in regards to how I love my wife? What if I didn’t learn one new thing in 2012 about ethics or morality, but instead was obedient to “loving my neighbor as myself”?

Obedience is a submissive word that most people would associate with their dogs behaving… but for me it’s a word that leads to life. It’s a way of life that invites me to become fully alive, to become more free.

What’s your word for 2012?

God Hates Liars

My wife and I were sitting in the waiting room at her doctor’s office last week. We only had a few minutes to wait until they called Lindsay back for her 21-week ultrasound.

There was a woman sitting across the room from us along with 4 small children, 2 boys and 2 girls. She looked absolutely miserable as she sat slumped in her chair. The kids were surprisingly well-behaved, especially considering how boring waiting rooms are (even for 33-year-old husbands).

The youngest girl stood up from her chair and waddled over to the magazine rack. Her jacket was so puffy that she could barely reach out her arms to take one of the magazines.

She looked like she might be 3 years old…

She was the cutest little thing.

She stood quietly by the magazine rack and studied the cover of the magazine she had chosen.

“Sit down” said the woman in a commanding, angry voice.

The young girl said something under her breath, still looking at her magazine, as the woman stood up, walked over and spanked her in the middle of the room.

My wife Lindsay and I looked at each other, both pretty surprised by the spanking. It didn’t seem necessary at all.

The little girl walked over to her chair, crying now, but still looking at her magazine. She had taken a sharp smack in the tush, but she was still infatuated with the cover. She sat there, quietly crying.

“Stop crying… you baby” the woman said.

I thought to myself, “She IS a baby!”.

“Stop crying…”

“Stop crying you baby…”

And then she said it, slowly and intentionally:

“Stop crying, you ugly baby… Ugly baby. You are ugly, baby. You are not pretty, you are an ugly baby.”

Now, if you know me or Lindsay at all, you know exactly how we felt at this moment. It didn’t help that she kept going…

“Ugly.”

“Fea” 

“Ugly baby.”

“Fea…”

“Fea…”

She just kept saying that to this little girl…

Lindsay stood up and walked out of the room instead of throwing her chair at the woman.

Right then the other little girl spoke up. She was about 5 years old.

She looked at the woman and said, “You’re going to get in trouble”.

She explained, “When my mom comes out here and she hears that you called her ugly, you are going to get in trouble. You called her ugly and stupid and you’re going to get in trouble.”

Now I see that this woman is the girls’ aunt, and that their mother is in with the doctor.

The woman replies, “I didn’t say she was stupid. I never said that. YOU ARE A LIAR. YOU ARE A LIAR… AND GOD HATES LIARS. THE DEVIL IS GOING TO GET YOU BECAUSE GOD HATES LIARS.”

I was waiting for my moment to say something, and this felt like a pretty clear invitation to join the conversation.

From across the room I say, “I think you are wrong. Actually, I’m a pastor and I know you are completely wrong! Little girl, you are not ugly, you are very pretty. Do you hear me? You are very pretty. You are muy bonita, very pretty! What she is saying about you is not true. And God does not hate you. He loves you! God loves liars, that’s why we shouldn’t lie, because He loves us so much.”

And then my anger got the best of me and I shouted asked her “WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT TO HER?!”

She rolled her eyes at me…

“Don’t roll your eyes at me! Why would you say that to her?! Do you actually think that’s going to help? Do you think you can make her behave by calling her ugly?!”

“I was just kidding. That’s how we joke with each other…” she says.

“She doesn’t know that you’re kidding! She won’t even be able to comprehend sarcasm until she’s 12 or 13 years old!! Don’t you understand how damaging that can be for her to hear at this age?”

I told the little girls that I was so sorry that they had heard those things, and then I walked out of the room angrily…

I see my wife in the back room sobbing. The nurses had been watching our exchange through the window, but Lindsay hadn’t seen or heard anyhing I had said to her. I sat back there for 5 minutes with them, and then went back out to the waiting room.

Instead of sitting across the room from them, I walked over to their side of the room and sat in the row facing the woman, just a few feet away.

I apologized for getting angry with her, and then went on to explain to her how much power her words have in the life of those kids. I asked her if she had ever been on the receiving end of those kinds of words… and her entire posture changed. She told me about how she grew up in a broken home with no father and with a verbally abusive mother. She eventually shared with me that she is homeless, and that her and her young son were living with their sister.

Then it all made sense. Hurt people hurt people.

Then I just went for it…

“The other reason I just had to say something is that you were completely wrong about God. Do you know that God loves you? He loves all of us, even when we’re at our very worst, even when we don’t feel like we deserve it, even when we say and do horrible ugly things.”

She had no idea.

I shared the good news of God’s love with her, with the kids sitting there listening, and then I gave them my contact information and told them that I would love for them to come to my church. She thanked me and smiled with a genuine smile.

I’m hoping and praying that God will use that conversation to bring her and those kids into a relationship with Him, and a clear understanding of the good news that brings great joy for all people- the life, death and resurrection of Christ!

Griffin’s Surgery

Griffin has had some minor issues with one of his kidneys since he was born. We’ve had it checked every 3 months since then, and it improved each time we went, until his check-up last week. It got bad enough that the doctor said he needed surgery right away.

Tomorrow morning we will be heading up to Phoenix Children’s Hospital to have his kidney repaired. We’ll get there at 10a and wait 3 long hours until his surgery at 1p. It should only take about an hour, but he’ll have to be put under anesthesia. We’ll stay there with him for at least one night.

I’ve thought a lot about how to describe the emotions we’re feeling as the day approaches. If I’m honest, I’m scared. I’m almost always an optimist, but I’m scared. I trust our doctor, but I’m scared. I trust God, but I’m scared. I know it’s a routine operation, but I’m pretty scared.

I’ve just never loved anyone like I love Griffin. My love for him is idolatrous. I can’t explain it. It’s just different.

Please pray for our little man, his doctors and for us tomorrow.