Saturday, February 11, 2017

How is it 30 years??

February 11, 1987 – February 11, 2017.  30 years.  How did it get to be 30 years?  Ha!  I sound like an old woman!  But I am not.  It’s just that I was so young, then.  Sometimes, I feel like my brain is frozen, still, in that moment; it's not that I am perpetually 18, but in that second, I aged.  My life was forcibly jerked from one era into another and I have been an old woman for 30 years.

The circumstances around me have danced and blurred and blended into a colorful 30-year swirl.  I blinked, looked up and here I am, again.  My physical body has aged, but only because I’ve given it time to catch up to my ancient 18-year-old self.  I remember sitting in class, numb to the world, scornfully looking upon children who twittered and tweeted (before there was such a thing) about first kisses and prom and grades when I was trying to sort through and pack up my parents’ house and ready it for auction; when I was filling out paperwork at the hospital; when I was walking among caskets and making funeral arrangements.  Now if I mention in conversation that my parents are gone, it’s not surprising.  Back then, it was jarring and unusual and I was an oddity. 

It is funny that it is in this age that I feel comfortable working among 18-year-olds.  I love being at school and helping college freshmen work on papers and sort through readings.  I adore them, even with their young adult dramas.  I am so happy that most of them can be who they are, right now.  30 years ago, walking among them, I thought, “Flashlight tag??  What are you, 12?!  No, I don’t have time for that.  Life is serious!  Get real.”  How I looked at them with disdain.

I used to write in my journals that I didn’t know how I was ever going to graduate high school without my Mom or get married or have children without her…but yet, I did all those things.  As you would imagine, a girl without a mother makes a LOT of mistakes and that is the picture of me!  But God in his perfect grace has woven the mess I made of things into a beautiful life – into four beautiful lives.  My children are my joy, as I was my mother’s.

How did I make it through all those events without parents?  I was never alone.  My Church families were brothers and sisters and Mom and Dad to me.  God gave me surrogate parents until I was ready to re-discover the relationship with my biological father and I was able to seek him out.  My Grandma and my aunts swarmed in to love on me and be family without ever smothering.  My cousins gave me fellowship.  I was never, ever alone.

I don’t talk of it often, but I wasn’t alone, even on that night.  I ran away and pounded and screamed for help on the door of the first house I stumbled upon and nobody came.  I turned and started to run back when something or someone blocked me.  It or he wasn’t exactly invisible, but neither could I see through; my vision seemed blurred.  Then, it was almost as if my shoulders were being turned away and a voice – not exactly audible, but clear inside my brain – said, “You don’t want to go back there,” so I took off running until I saw lights and went to the next house.  They let me in to call the police.

Was it an angel?  Was it Jesus?  Was it my mind playing tricks on me in a moment of panic?  Yes.  Maybe.  I honestly can’t tell you, and I frankly don’t care.  Truthfully, plainly, I don’t.  All I know is there is no way I could have known the killer was still there, reloading, and knew I had run.  If I had gone back, I would be dead.  My sister would be dead.  So I don’t care what or who stopped me, I just know I am grateful.  And I am very aware that we mortals are small.  We live in the presence of greatness, but never acknowledge what is around us.  Some are so arrogant and have convinced themselves there is nothing else, even when a myriad of religions over countless eras have hinted or declared otherwise. 

Now, here I am, walking among these college students, feeling 18 in a 48-year-old body.  I study hard in my courses and feel alive in my exciting and uncertain future.  I have a mortgage and a family and I’m a grandma, but I am finally allowing myself my youth.  I am giving myself permission to be young…which is kind of messed up!  HAHA  But I never was normal.  And it’s all okay.  It. Is. All. Okay.  It always was; I just couldn’t see it.

I think Mom knew before she died that we were all right.  That’s how she could leave this world with a smile on her face.  She stepped into a place where there was no time and she could see it all.  Ginger and I are going to be okay.  We win in the end because that man could take our mother, but he couldn’t take the joy she put inside of us when she taught us about the Lord, Jesus Christ.  It is only through the legacy of the faith she told us about that any of this makes sense.  There is a peace that passes understanding, because trust me – on paper, NONE of this makes sense!  My sister and I should be blabbing idiots, right now, marred by tragedy.  And some days we are!  But mainly, we are at peace.  We win because evil didn’t get the best of us.  Praise God!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Points to Ponder
Deuteronomy 31:6, “Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.”

Psalm 91:11-12, “11for he will command his angels to protect you in all your ways.  12With their hands they will lift you up so you will not trip over a stone.”


Hebrews 12:1-2, “1Therefore let us also, seeing we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, lay aside every weight and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us, 2looking to Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.”

Friday, February 12, 2016

Which Way to Go?



(A 2005 Reflection) All day long, something had been off.  I was cranky, grouchy, no fun to be around; I just wasn’t myself and didn’t know why.  I was frustrated at my short temper that day and tried to reflect on it as I peddled my “arm-i-cycle” at physical therapy, loosening up my sore shoulder.

“It’s almost the end of February, past the anniversary of Mom’s death – that shouldn’t be bothering me.”  I started wondering if it was because I was 36, the same age Mom had been when she died.  I started counting the days…and then it hit me.  She had died 18 years and 7 days, ago. That meant I was one day older than my Mom had ever been.  I was entering “uncharted territory.” 

I sat up and let the machine spin on its own as I was lost in reverie.  I had no point of reference.  She had never gotten this old.  She never reached menopause, never gave away a child in marriage, never became a Grandma, never developed any health issues; she never aged.  I was pioneering on my own.  I felt so set adrift and without compass, so without boundaries.  It wasn’t freeing, it was terrifying.

Then, as the math of it was still sinking in, I realized I had lived longer without her than with her.  My inner self knew it, even though I had been unconscious of it.  The child inside was chafing against reality, throwing a temper tantrum until I would pay attention and address what was wrong.  I ached for my mother, as grown up as I was.

What did life look like?  I had divorced a few months earlier, and felt like my world was in shambles.  My kids were angry at me all the time.  I felt empty when they were away, yet they were nothing but prickles when they were around.  My job had just recently gone through a major reconstruction and what I did was completely different.  Instead of looking forward to each day, I only valued Fridays and the friendship I maintained with my supervisor which made 8-5 palatable.  I was dating a really spiritual, handsome, sweet guy, but it was in the brand-new stages; no idea where that would go. 

How could I move forward?  What would Mom do?  I didn’t know.  I had outlived her, I was on my own.  I had lost all direction.  Where did I go from here??  She hadn’t taught me about life when you get older because she hadn’t gotten older.  I felt dizzy and reached for the equipment to steady myself.

What had she taught?  Ruefully, I laughed.  Her biggest lesson to me had always been, “Christians don’t have to say ‘Goodbye,’ they just say, ‘See ya, later!’”  Indeed.  I had clung to that promise again and again and finally had peace with her passing.  But what did that mean for now, TODAY?  I couldn’t even ask myself, “What would Mom do?” because she hadn’t faced this age.

“What Would Jesus Do?”  The thought woke me out of my spiraling depression.  She hadn’t lived long enough to see the WWJD movement, but she had pointed me in that direction.  Yes, what would Jesus do?  Mom was temporal, but Jesus is eternal.  What she would have done was to point me to the One who would never leave me.  The One to Whom I could always turn.

Re-anchored, I grasped the physical therapy machine and started forward, again.  Yes, I grieved.  I was sad I had to walk through the majority of my life without her.  But I was glad I was alive and knew she would be happy for me and the person I was still becoming.  I was walking through hard times, but I was at peace.  I knew in which direction I was headed.  Praise God!

Points to Ponder
Deuteronomy 31:8 8”The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.  Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.”  

A Shelter in the Time of Storm
The Lord's our Rock; in Him we hide,
A Shelter in the time of storm;
Secure whatever ill betide,
A Shelter in the time of storm.
O Jesus is a Rock in a weary land,
A weary land, a weary land;
O Jesus is a Rock in a weary land -
A Shelter in the time of storm.
The raging storms may round us beat,
A Shelter in the time of storm;
We'll never leave our safe retreat,

A Shelter in the time of storm.
O Jesus is a Rock in a weary land,
A weary land, a weary land;
O Jesus is a Rock in a weary land -
A Shelter in the time of storm.



Jesus Calls Us

Jesus calls us o'er the tumult
of our life's wild, restless sea;
day by day his sweet voice soundeth,
saying, "Christian, follow me!"

In our joys and in our sorrows,
days of toil and hours of ease,

 still he calls, in cares and pleasures,
"Christian, love me more than these!"

Jesus calls us! By thy mercies,
Savior, may we hear thy call,
give our hearts to thine obedience,
serve and love thee best of all.



Saturday, February 14, 2015

Love Softens the Snow



“Love has changed even the snow,” I thought as I glanced out the window.  This Saturday morning, it blankets.  This Valentine’s day, it floats softly down.  That empty holiday so many years ago, the flurries stung my face, pecked at my eyes; the cold was harsh and unforgiving – a thing alive that existed to pester me.

But the jagged lines have blurred.  Instead of images that poke and cut, the edges of this day have worn down.  I now choose to remember seeing through the church window backs of heads so numerous I couldn’t count; all those people there because they cared.  It is beautiful.  Then, I shivered in my Mom’s black dress.  I didn’t have one of my own, so I borrowed hers for her own funeral.  I was still a teenager sneaking clothes from her mother’s closet; thoughts like that make me smile, now.

Then, the cold sunk into my skin and made my bones rattle.  How ironic that a few days before when she had breezed home, she had told me to shut my bedroom window because although it was 60 degrees outside, it was still February and I could catch cold.  That day, she was sunshine standing before me.  You couldn’t mask the light that came from her face.  Even when she seemed a nagging Mom, she was joyful.  To both the familiar and strange, you could see, feel the love behind her eyes.

But three days later, waiting to go into that service, I was under no illusions.  What I had seen in the casket was bleak and hollow, literally void of life.  Without an image, the undertaker had mirrored the picture on her license (which she had hated.)  It wasn’t just cosmetic.  The thing lying in there was a shell, nothing more.  There was no soul, no being, nothing vibrant like my mother had been.  The whole situation was cruel and unjust and stabbing and ached so badly I thought I would break into pieces bleeding.

Time has eroded those feelings.  Then, the loneliness of losing my best friend tightened my throat and threatened to choke me.  Today, I am married to my best friend.  For years, I dreaded mid-February, hated red-and-pink hearts thrown up everywhere.  Today, I look forward to buying them to lace my daughter’s birthday celebrations.  Then, my mother was dead.  Today, I take comfort in knowing how alive she truly is and I know I will see her, someday. 

What switched?  The Romance of the Ages softened everything.  I have found her light inside of myself.  I embraced her faith and made it my own.  Death’s meaning changed in me from something that came to steal and destroy to merely a passageway to another place, a door.  It has no more power than a threshold, something I can step over easily.

Love made those changes.  Learning more about what Jesus promises and having assurance that my mother knew about and believed in those promises alters everything about her death and makes defeat a victory.

Do I still miss her?  Sure.  Do I still ache because Valentine’s Day is on a Saturday, again, and the loss of her wakes me, crying, sometimes? Yes.  But at last, I am comforted.  I need her here with me, but I can go on.  I understand…I confidently hope that I understand how happy and content and pain-free she is.  I love her so much that I can let her go.  And I am happy for her.  Praise God!


Points to Ponder

1 Corinthians 15:55 55”O death, where is your victory?  O death, where is your sting?” 


Jeremiah 31:3-4 3”[This is what the Eternal One has to say:] I appeared to them from far away and said: ‘I have loved you with an everlasting love – out of faithfulness, I have drawn you close.  4And so it shall be again, my Israel; I will build you up and you shall be rebuilt.  You will again take up the tambourine and join those who are dancing for joy.’”


Revelation 21:3-5 3”And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look!  God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and He will dwell with them.  They will be His people and God himself will be with them and be their God. 4 He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”

5 He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” Then he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.”