David Powlison (1949-2019)

Pic credit CCEF

My post in memory of David’s life and the impact he made on me personally: David Powlison (1949-2019): The Embodiment of a Biblical Counselor

UPDATE June 10, 2019

Memorial Service

The Powlison family and David’s friends and colleagues here at CCEF would like to invite you to celebrate his life at a memorial service to be held at Calvary Church of Souderton on Tuesday, June 18th at 3:00 pm. Because David loved to practice hospitality, and to meet him was to feel like you had made a friend for life, it is fitting to welcome as many as can come in person, and for us to livestream his memorial service for those who can’t. The family has asked those attending to wear Aloha shirts or colorful attire rather than traditional black, in recognition of his Hawaiian heritage and love of color. In lieu of flowers, the family has asked that donations be made to CCEF in David’s honor. Checks can be sent to 1803 East Willow Grove Avenue, Glenside, PA 19038 or you can give electronically at ccef.org/donate.

Not long before he died, David had a conversation with Bob Kramer, his college roommate and long-time friend, who was instrumental in bringing him to Christ. A portion of that conversation follows.

David Powlison’s Conversion Story – watch at this link

UPDATE June 7, 2019

Personal Note: This morning at 11 am David Powlison left this earth for heaven. His faith ended in sight. As more details are available we will post them here.

For his life story, check out this article by Justin Taylor here.

UPDATE June 4, 2019

Personal Note: I know I updated you just yesterday. However, since then, Nan sent a note via CCEF to everyone related to David’s health. Here it is in its entirety from CCEF (update page link).

UPDATE June 3, 2019

Editor’s Note: I continue to post updates here because I know not everyone can follow every page and every update. But thank you friends and readers of this blog for praying for my friend and mentor David, his wife Nan, and his family. This is an extra sweet message from David. I’m so encouraged by him as he walks through the shadow of death.

David Powlison was invited to give the closing comments at the Westminster Graduation Ceremony on May 23, 2019. He was unable to attend personally but CCEF’s Dean of Faculty, Mike Emlet read the following on David’s behalf:

I grieve not to be with you this afternoon. I very much looked forward to walking with you, worshiping with you, listening to our God with you, and cheering you on as you set forth into the next season of your life. After being diagnosed with stage IV pancreatic cancer in November, I returned to work half-time at CCEF, serving a future that I am not likely to be part of. Part of why I have so looked forward to this graduation day is because it is something fully in the present tense of my experience. And I grieve. I truly grieve not to be present with you. But my health has become fragile and I recently entered hospice care.

I want to share words of encouragement with you. I first graduated from Westminster thirty-nine years ago! I still remember the specific details of one sermon that I heard in seminary chapel. Dick Gaffin was speaking from Romans 8:26 about how the Holy Spirit helps us in our weakness. He made a point I’ve never forgotten — that “weakness” is singular. It does not say “weaknesses” as if there were a finite list of sins A-B-C, and sufferings X-Y-Z in your life. “Weakness” singular is a comprehensive description of our human condition. We are perishable. We are mortal. We face a multitude of afflictions in our lives. And we are sinful, bent from the heart towards pride, self-righteousness, fear of man, and a multitude of desires and fears that beset us. The mercies of God meet us in this comprehensive condition of weakness.

Something I long admired about Pope John Paul II is that he was unafraid to be publicly weak. He was willing to be in front of people when it was evident that he was failing. I deeply respected that. It’s so countercultural to people who want to say, “We are STRONG!” and “You can do it!” On the contrary, we are fundamentally weak. That weakness is a most unusual door into all the ways God enables us to be strong.

One of my favorite novels is Cry, the Beloved Country by Alan Paton. I’ve always admired one of the characters. Msimangu is an Anglican pastor living in South Africa under apartheid. He is very generous to a grieving older pastor, Steven Kumalo. When Kumalo expresses deep, tearful gratitude for how generous Msimangu has been, he responds: “I am a selfish, sinful and weak man, but God has put his hand on me. That is all.”

Being unafraid to be publicly weak was true of King David. The end of Psalm 40 has always resonated deeply with me. This psalm contains a great deal of fruitful ministry and joyful worship, yet David summarizes himself this way: “As for me, I am poor and needy, but the Lord takes thought for me.” David’s strength grew out of his comprehensive sense of weakness, and his confidence in God’s strength.

We see something very similar in the life of the apostle Paul. He pleads with God to take away a very distressing affliction, but the Lord says, “No, my grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.” Paul goes on to say, “I will gladly boast of my weakness as the doorway through which the strength of God enters my life.”

Supremely we see fearlessness of public weakness in the life and words of Jesus himself. The Beatitudes sound the keynote of Jesus’ keynote talk, the Sermon on the Mount. What Jesus says to us captures what he himself embodies. When we think about how the image of Christ is expressed in our lives, the Beatitudes show us how the right kind of weakness, a fundamental sense of neediness, then leads directly to the right kind of strength, a strength grounded and founded in need.

Think about the qualities of strength that the last four beatitudes portray.

• “Blessed are the merciful” — to have your life characterized by a deep concern for the welfare of others, to be generous, open-hearted and open-handed.
• Jesus says, “The pure in heart are blessed,” describing the ability to approach all people free from duplicitous motives, free of self-serving.
• Jesus says, “Peacemakers are blessed — they’re nothing less than the children of God.” Peacemaking is the ability to be candid, constructive, and caring; to pursue peace in a world that is full of war, dissension, conflicts, arguments, and avoiders.
• Jesus says, “Those who are persecuted are blessed.” He calls us to joyful purposefulness, finding courage in affliction, finding perseverance in opposition. These are wonderful traits. These are the traits of leadership and loving fruitfulness in Jesus’ life — and ours as well.

The right kind of strength comes from the right kind of weakness. The right kind of weakness is expressed in the first four beatitudes:

• “The poor in spirit are blessed” — those who know they need help outside of themselves. Jesus is described as one who, though he was rich, became poor. He became poor for you. He became utterly dependent, utterly needy. He died in the ultimate weakness and perishability of the human condition.
• Jesus is portrayed throughout his life as one who mourns: “He is a man of sorrows, acquainted, well-acquainted, deeply-acquainted, with grief.” “Blessed are those who mourn.” He mourns for your sake, he mourns his own suffering that he must face, he mourns all the things that are wrong in this world, and he comes on a mission of mercy to make wrongs right.
• “The meek are blessed.” Jesus describes himself as meek and lowly in heart. Meekness is not weakness in the negative sense. It’s weakness in the positive sense, being under the hand and voice and will of Another, heeding the voice of his Father. He was meek for you and for me, fully trusting God’s promises, fully obeying God’s will. He is the one in whose image we are to become.
• Jesus is blessed because he hungers and thirsts for righteousness. He makes right what is wrong. He makes true what is false. And he remakes what is evil for the good of His people. He who is all-righteous hungers and thirsts for righteousness for our sake.

So we see in the very life of our Lord that he is all these things. He is fruitful, he is strong, but he is fruitful and strong on the foundation of this abiding sense of weakness and need. And it’s that weakness and need that we see supremely exhibited at the end of his life when he goes to death in our place, casting Himself on his Father’s mercy and power. He was raised in strength, while retaining compassion and sympathy for our weakness and our need. He warmly welcomes us to the throne of his grace, that we might receive the mercy we need and the grace specific to whatever difficult situation we are in.

My deepest hope for you is that in both your personal life and your ministry to others, you would be unafraid to be publicly weak as the doorway to the strength of God Himself.

UPDATE May 15, 2019

As we continue to pray for our dear brother, we know the direction and progression of this particular cancer. As you read in this most recent update, the cancer is doing what is expected. David, Nan, their family, and CCEF need our prayer. These are portions of his most recent update (CCEF update page link).

You are likely aware that I was diagnosed with Stage IV pancreatic cancer last fall. I’ve actually felt reasonably well: good appetite, no pain meds, a good evening walk with Nan every day, a clear mind and working half-time at CCEF. But a recent CT scan shows that the lesions metastasized into the liver have grown both in number and size. When I asked my doctor for the prognosis, he was candid: “A few months.”

How are we doing in light of such hard news? Grief and tears are close to the surface. But scripture has been living and active, and full of love. The dots are connecting, and the intimate voice and presence of God in Psalm 121 has been a particularly significant companion. Our Shepherd watches over us, protects us, cares for us, and never dozes off. It’s so. And friends and family have been so tender toward us.

During these past months, I’ve been grateful to be involved with our faculty, with the Journal of Biblical Counseling, and with our board’s search committee working to determine my successor. I’m particularly grateful for how work is going on a book project on the topic of spiritual warfare in the counseling context. And I am profoundly grateful for Jayne Clark who has stepped up to serve as our acting executive director. It is gratifying to see CCEF continuing to flourish and take significant steps forward under her leadership. In future correspondence you’ll be hearing more from Jayne directly.

Please give thanks to our Savior God for his presence. Thank him for our team at CCEF, and particularly for Jayne. I ask for your continued prayers for Nan and me personally, and for all of us working at CCEF. Please pray for:

• particular wisdom as Nan and I process so many things, make so many decisions and seek to love each other and our family well
• bandwidth in current writing projects — and ongoing fruitfulness within my current limitations
• wisdom and grace for Jayne as she continues to provide leadership as acting executive director
• discernment as our board proceeds with the search for my successor

Nan and I have been deeply encouraged by your kindness, encouragement, and prayers over these months. CCEF is indebted to your generosity. We continue to go forward with your support and care.

UPDATE April 23, 2019

We continue to pray for our friend, mentor, and brother as he battles pancreatic cancer. These are portions of his most recent update (CCEF update page link).

A friend described the process Nan and I are going through as “white water rafting.” Around every bend is a fresh situation with some new factor to account for. Constant decisions and adjustments to make. The unpredictability of the river: a boulder, an eddy of calm, a sudden drop, a stretch of smooth water, a whirlpool. Good days and bad days.

That rafting metaphor captures the experience very well! We find that expectations need to be adjusted—often. And the provisional nature of all our plans is immediately obvious, not just a background thought that occasionally kicks in.

…in consultation with the medical team, I decided to experiment a bit more with chemotherapy. Is there a way we can adjust things to achieve good ends and minimize negative side effects? Doctors inserted a port (April 9); we planned an every other week schedule; we lowered the dose. We also added a low dose of a second drug. The infusion was on April 11, and that day was an eddy of calm. There was even a humorous note. The nurse commented to Nan, “This steroid might make your husband chatty.” Now I’ve never been described as “chatty,” and, as you can imagine, witticisms ensued. Indeed, that evening I was chatting away! But in the days that followed, the aftereffects were not humorous: extreme fatigue, loss of appetite, peripheral neuropathy causing pain in my hands and unsettling my balance.

…

Nan and I have often been reading and pondering Psalms lately. No surprise, given my health troubles. And we’ve been reading a great deal in Gospels, given the approach of Easter, and Jesus’ journey toward death, then his resurrection from death to indestructible physical life. Psalms and Gospels have been real friends. They’re about people, troubles, action, interaction, events, vividly captured in metaphors from daily experience. They capture honest need and tangible love. No theories and abstractions, no ritualized religious activity, no histrionic emotion, no moralistic guilt trip, no sentimentality. It’s earthed. It’s alive. It elicits, illumines, and reorients our honesty.

In my work at CCEF, I continue to be involved half-time. My chief roles involve mentoring, writing, editing, and working with the succession committee of our board. Something I said in an earlier post continues to be true. One of my greatest joys and satisfactions is watching and hearing how well my fellow employees are doing. The work is flourishing. Pray for God to grant wisdom, strength, and love to serve people around the world who are our students, counselees, readers, conference attenders, and donors. May the men and women we serve flourish.

…

Let me close with words of sheer grace that framed our Easter weekend:

If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised—who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?…. [Nothing] in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

          —Romans 8:31–35, 39.

UPDATE March 21, 2019

We appreciate the kindness God has been showing to our friend as he continues to battle pancreatic cancer. Here is his most recent update in its entirety (CCEF update page link).

First a medical update. We got the results of my CT scan on March 6, and it is good news: the January and March scans side by side look identical. The tumors are “stable” (my doctor’s word) both in number and size, so the chemotherapy is accomplishing what we hope it will do. Given the unpleasantness of the chemotherapy experience, however, this raises the conundrum of what to do going forward. My medical team is attuned to that dilemma, and I much appreciate their commitment to do what works for the patient. Three possible adjustments: [1] insert a port, to eliminate the discomfort from using veins in the forearm; [2] do chemotherapy every other week, rather than three weeks on, one off; [3] lessen the dose.

We will be making those decisions when we return from… Hawaii! After getting the CT results, we flew back to my family and family homes here on windward Oahu. We are in the middle of a much-anticipated two weeks visit. It has been a rich ten days. We spent the first week with my cousin Cosette, whose home overlooks the ocean, and is next door both to my brother Dan’s and to my sister Diane’s homes. Lots of visiting back and forth; many shared meals; beach walks daily; rainbows over the ocean; humpback whales spouting and breaching offshore; body surfing; the delight of spotting tropical fish while snorkeling; reminiscing over dinner with a group of high school friends from the class of 1967.

In other words, we’ve been much more active socially and physically than we imagined we’d be. I made a significant observation while Nan and I were traveling here on March 8. During our layover in Los Angeles, we were walking around the airport. At one point I suddenly realized, “I feel like myself. I feel better than I’ve felt in 6 months!” After the unpleasantness of jaundice in September, a whirl of diagnostic medical events in October, major surgery and slow recovery through November and December, and then chemotherapy in January and February, I now feel almost normal. We had been hoping that this time out from chemo would give us a sense for my current baseline level of energy, mental acuity, and overall subjective sense of health. It has done that, and the baseline is very encouraging—though of course what is happening objectively remains serious. Such days are a gift of God for this season, and I say, “O my Father, thank you!”

Nan and I recently read a finely worded comment about gratitude: “Grace and gratitude belong together like heaven and earth. Grace evokes gratitude like the voice evokes an echo. Gratitude follows grace as thunder follows lightning.” It’s a wonderful gift to not only feel grateful, but to be able to express it in words to the Giver of every good gift.

UPDATE March 3, 2019

Here is the most recent update. Thank you to all the readers who continue to pray for him as they seek what is wisest concerning treatment. Here is the link to the full update: Click Here

Personally, this month brought grief in a way I did not expect—though it makes perfect sense on reflection. For three or four days in early February I felt as if I were behind a veil, standing at a distance from where life was unfolding just beyond arm’s reach. When I stopped and thought about it, I realized, “I’m grieving.” Future events and plans are the topic of so many conversations with family, friends and colleagues. I find myself in discussions that involve futures I may not be part of. The most poignant moment came when our daughter Hannah announced that she is expecting a child in October. Will I see this new baby? Will I go to CCEF’s national conference in October? Will I celebrate my 70^th birthday in December. Will I sing “O come, all ye faithful” and “Joy to the world.” I don’t know, but I do hope so.

Interpersonally, Nan and I have been having rich conversations. Yesterday morning we spent two hours immersed in memories. Our reverie was prompted by Lilias Trotter’s description of a fortnight on the Cornwell coast in southern England:

Cornwall has the most wonderful attrait [French: attraction, highly desirable appeal] of any place I know on earth—except perhaps the desert. And there is a likeness, too, in all their unlikeness—the huge illimitableness of everything—ones whole being can expand…. I nearly cried for joy when I got out among the heather on the cliff. Oh such places there are—far more wonderful than I remember even. Today I sat for hours among the boulders on the slope of the cliff of a little bay….. The sea below every shade of emerald and sapphire and lapis lazuli, with deep purple shadow where the seaweed-covered rocks showed through. And above the till of moor, tawny turf and amethyst heather. (A Blossom in the Desert, p. 185)

Nan and I walked that very coast in 2006 with our daughter Hannah. We similarly delighted in every gem-like shade of green and blue in that same vast ocean below those cliffs. That memory then evoked memories of other vistas with a similar quality of “huge illimitableness”: in Wales overlooking the Irish Sea, along sea cliffs in the Orkneys, hiking in the Anza Borrego desert east of San Diego, and, repeatedly, right at home in the ocean off Lanikai where I spent so much of my childhood.

…

Psalms 141, 142 and 143 have been invigorating companions in recent weeks. The psalm writer is so fully awake to what it means to be human! He is so alert to good and evil, danger and safety, life and death, weakness and strength. And he is so honest about the immediate way God connects to these most significant aspects of our daily lives. Psalms have been a first-person tutorial in what it means to be a sentient human being.

Finally, thank you for the concern, care, and encouragement that so many people have expressed to Nan and me during a hard season.

UPDATE February 1, 2019

You will laugh at one story. One of our longstanding family traditions has been that when there is snow on the ground and the thermometer gets down into single digits, we put on our bathing suits and run around the house barefoot. Well, last night it went down to 3°, and a beautiful snow squall in the afternoon had powdered us with an inch of fresh snow. So…, yes, even without any children or grandchildren around to participate and chortle their delight, I did run around the house in my swim suit. It’s very invigorating! You ought to try it, though I must admit that Nan sincerely declined an invitation to join me. 😉

A word about those fundamental perspectives. One characteristic of these past months has been that the relevance of Scripture has been electrifying. The more precarious life is, the more pertinent all that Christ is, does, and says. One particular significant encouragement came from Psalm 138:3: “On the day I called you answered me, and you made me bold in my soul with strength.” That clarity, focus, purposefulness, and inner strength has been a sweet gift of God, and a reality for which I am very grateful.

Before sleep one night, Nan and I read 2 Corinthians 4–5 slowly and aloud. We are looking death in the eye, while wanting to live, and live well. This passage is utterly candid about the most profound matters of life and death, of living a purposeful life, of how to face suffering honestly and hopefully.

UPDATE January 18, 2019

David has begun his treatment protocol for the cancer. Please continue to pray for him. Here is his final paragraph of the update:

“Psalm 139:10 has been very meaningful. No matter where we are and what we are facing (and verses 7-12 cover every circumstance), “Your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me.” Pray that Nan and I would know God’s personal touch. We are planning to take this weekend as a retreat to read, think, talk, pray, worship, and plan. As you’ve probably experienced, such plans and good intentions can shipwreck in a thousand ways. A major snow, ice, and rain storm is predicted, which is a big encouragement for us to sit by the fire, drink tea—and fulfill this plan!”

UPDATE December 13, 2018

Here is the most recent update from David Powlison. The update is in the form of an incredible conversation between David and Ed Welch.

Listen to David’s heart and testimony even in suffering. There are two different videos here – a shortened version and a longer version.

Please continue to pray for him, his wife Nan, CCEF, and his doctors.

Short Version

Full Version

UPDATE November 21, 2018

Thank you to so many who continue to pray for David Powlison. Here is exerts from his most recent update on his health.

What is next? On December 6 I will have several appointments, first for post-op clearance, and then for discussion (and perhaps decision) regarding future treatment. We’ve met informally with the surgeon and with the oncologist for question-asking and information-gathering. We have really appreciated the attitude and ethos of all my doctors. They’ve put no pressure to opt for one treatment or another, and have presented fair-minded information, with a sense for the patient’s dignity and choice.

Here are two prayer requests. For Nan, “It’s easy to get into a daze of practical operations, and not be in touch with the poetry of our lives together and with the Lord.” I like the way she put it. There’s no formula for facing a hard thing well and with honest feeling. For me, it’s easy to get into the haze of feeling very unpoetic queasiness and not absorbing nutrition. My innards still need to “get sorted,” as the Brits say. So amid all these medical practicalities, pray that we will never lose sight of the reality that life is not—is never—a medical drama.

UPDATE November 14, 2018

Friends, thank you for praying for my friend, David Powlison. During his recent surgery it was determined that his cancer was not as they originally thought; but, instead, is stage 4 pancreatic cancer. For all of us who love him and have been praying for him, we are so saddened by this news. Please continue to pray for him, Nan, his family, the CCEF family, and his many friends as they respond to this news. You can see his personal message at this link from CCEF.

Original Post from October 18, 2018

Would you please pray for our dear friend David Powlison? As you will see in this three minute video, he had to miss the annual CCEF conference at Virginia Beach because of a medical diagnosis of a tumor in his pancreas. The doctors have told him that it is presently contained and that he will need surgery. You can watch his Personal Message from this link from CCEF on Vimeo.

He requests that we pray for him and Nan that they would continue to experience the presence of God throughout this trial. He also asks that we would pray for the medical condition itself. I would encourage you to take a moment to watch the video for yourself. Even in his prayer request, you will have an opportunity to be encouraged.

Dave was part of God’s providential care when Kelly and I needed it in 1999. We have been friends since. If you have time, please take a moment to pray with me on his behalf.

Thank you for your kindness to Dave, Nan, CCEF, and me,
Kevin

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