Into the immediate more immediate embrace of God

A while ago, we “adopted” this song as our Family Song.

 

How We Love ~ Beth Neilson Chapman

 

Life has taught me this
Every day is new
And if anything is true
All that matters
When we're through
Is how we love

Faced with what we lack
Some things fall apart
But from the ashes new dreams start
All that matters to the heart
Is how we love

How we love
How we love
From the smallest act of kindness
In a word, a smile, a touch

In spite of our mistakes
Chances come again
If we lose or if we win
All that matter in the end
Is how we love

How we love
How we love
I will not forget your kindness
When I needed it so much

Sometimes we forget
Trying to be so strong
In this world of right and wrong
All that matters when we're gone
All that mattered all along
All we have that carries on
Is how we love

 

 

 

At about 9:45 tonight, Mom fell into the more immediate embrace of God’s Love. Dad and all three of her children were with her ~ loving her, just like she taught us.

 

The Narthex of Heaven and Thin Places

Two weeks ago today, the cadre of family who were in town, made the trip to the doctor’s office to get the latest “scan results.” We sat together as the doctor told my mother (who was sitting in a wheelchair and holding my father’s hand): “The medicine isn’t working anymore.” We all knew it was coming.

When my mother asked, in slurred speech, “that means I’m dying, then?” the doctor answered “Not today…but yes.”

Hospice contacts were made, and a couple days later, we moved Mom out of rehab and back to her and Dad’s apartment.

When the hospice bed arrived, dad had it set up in their bedroom. We raised it to the same level as “their” bed, and took the inside guard rail down, and now they sleep as they have for more than 56 years…side by side.

My siblings and I have been taking 48-hour shifts, sitting together with Dad through this end-of-this-life journey. Talking about the privilege of it all and noticing all the “thin spaces” between heaven and earth.

Yesterday, my friends Sue and Peter came and visited my folks…Later in the day, Sue emailed me and said that “Tommie is in the narthex of heaven.” (Translation? “Tommie is in the foyer of heaven.”).

Sue is the one who reminded me of “thin spaces.”

I see them everywhere right now.

I see thin spaces in my siblings who have simply been present, daring to walk right into the face of death and carry patient, gentle, exhausted, enduring, no-matter-what love.

I see thin spaces in my children – who climb in bed beside Granny and rub her head and, in their quietest “library voice” tell her about their day, with absolute tenderness and “naturalness” – even though she doesn’t respond. “But, mom she can still hear us.” I see thin spaces when my children sing “Up above my head…I see Jesus in the air…and I really do believe there’s a heaven somewhere.”

I see the thin space between heaven and earth in the choreography that my husband is doing (laundry, cooking, cleaning, homework) – just so I can spend all the time I possibly can in this inexplicably peaceful place – where love is truly, truly being embodied…heavenly…Heavenly…HEAVENLY love.

Mostly, of course, I see the thin space between heaven and earth in the way my father is with my mother (not really much different than he has always been)…wise, gracious, tender, faithful, gentle, intentional, courageous, open, encouraging, soft, strong.

 

The Hospice Social Worker told us, earlier today, that Mom has about 12-48 hours left in this place.

We are all (my mom and dad and brother and sisters and I) together…Walking mom into resurrection. Letting go as she walks first through the narthex of heaven and then through the thin place of separation and finally into perfect, total no-matter-what, the-end-amen Love.

Peeling Paint, Splinters, and Thanksgiving

My family and I were on vacation a couple or three weeks ago. We had saved and saved and saved money every month for more than a year so that we could rent a place at the beach (I am learning more and more what a luxury it is to actually be able to save money!). We’d packed up on Friday and Saturday (check list in hand) and had the truck loaded, bikes on the rack and were ready to head out as soon as worship was over on Sunday.

Spirits high, kids happy, sun and fun and beach ahead, we drove and sang along to the radio…very lovely!

Three hours later, spirits still high, we pulled through the gates of the beach “community,” and – filled with anticipation – got directions to the address of our place-for-the-week.

We pulled into the driveway and parked…And before we even entered, my head went “What the what, what?!?! You’re kidding me!!!”

Paint peeling, cobwebs dangling, wood on the steps just waiting to impale its splinters into my children’s, or worse my feet!

My jaw obviously clinched, and my husband patted my hand.

When we opened the door and went inside, it just got worse (Anybody remember the Deena Carter song: “Did I Shave My Legs for This?”…That’s how I felt!)!

Now…You need to know that I pride myself on being a “responsive” person (frustratingly so according to some folks who would rather I be more “reactionary”), but all thoughtful responsiveness flew out the door, and my reaction was pretty immediate and somewhat/pretty/quite negative. For a couple minutes, I refused to unpack anything…“We’re not staying here!!! Did you walk across the floor??? The wood is coming up!!! One of the kids is going to fall through!”

It was so bad, that my husband did something that I don’t remember him ever doing before…He took me into the nasty, cramped, dark kitchen and said, “You have got to get it together!”

“Well you’d better call someone, or else I will!” I said.

“I’ll call,” he said.

I stayed in there and fumed for a few moments; then hollered at the kids to get down to the truck and start hauling things up…They did.

I very reluctantly unpacked a few things and threw them (literally) into cabinets, trying to ignore the peeling shelf paper.

When I finally came out of the kitchen, Cliff and the kids were standing there with their bathing suits on.

“Come on Mom! We’re going to the beach!” I shot lasers out of my eyes straight at my husband…the kind that say, “I am not ready to not be fuming!!!”

While I got dressed, they went outside and found the bike helmets and pumped the tires up.

When found our way to the beach (which, I noted loudly, was farther away than advertised), one of the kids said, “Mom, can we get in the water!” I grunted at them, unfolded my chair, slammed it into the sand, opened my book and promptly buried my snorting nose in it.

Needless to say, before I could even start reading, two soaking wet, squealing, sand-covered kids ran up to me and said, “THIS IS AWESOME!!!!”

Perspective (haven’t I already posted a blog about that?).

I told someone the other day that I am tired of learning life-lessons…You’d think that, by the time I’m as old as I am, I’d have learned them all!

We came to know the maintenance folks for the “house” pretty well (they had to come every…that’s right EVERY day to work on the AC…eventually just putting in a window unit and bringing more fans!)…And, yes, we did get a hunk of our money refunded. But, it would have been so easy for me to miss out on love and laughter and “awesome” and blessings and grace and on and on and on.

My friend Kelly B. took on someone’s 7-day gratefulness-challenge (or something like that). Quite honestly when I hear about these “gratefulness” challenges, I always think they’re a little hokey…a little Pollyanna-ish, you know? But, maybe there’s something to it.

Perspective…Maybe a little more thankfulness…Maybe a little more focus on the presence of love and blessings and God’s kingdom even in the midst of peeling paint and worn, splintering (dare we say, “cross-shaped”) wood.

Mustard Seeds and St. Bernards

Most of you know that we have two Saint Bernards in our family – both rescued dogs.

Dinah was rescued from the pound (I know…a real, live Saint Bernard in the pound!).

We brought her home about 1 week after our first Saint Bernard (Tendai) died…after swearing that we would wait at least 6 months – okay – 3 months – okay – one month before we got another dog! It’s just that Tonka (our other living Saint Bernard) was soooo lost after the first dog died.

So, in our home are two giant throw-rugs of dogs!

I’m fairly sure we spend more money feeding the dogs than we do the kids (on the good side – and there are several good sides – at least their shedding hair…the dogs’ not the kids’…gathers in clumps so large it creates hazardous conditions around the house, which force me to vacuum on a fairly regular basis, thus maintaining my image of not being a completely worthless housekeeper!!)!

They are getting older though – for dogs so large.

Tonka – the surviving member of the original twosome, is about 8 ½ or 9 years old (we adopted him from a St. Bernard Rescue thing. His owner was being deployed overseas with the military and couldn’t take Tonka with him). He’s had an ongoing urinary tract infection (now, THAT’S an experience!!!!). Trust me, it is no small puddle that a dog that size creates when he just can’t hold it any longer…Think small to medium sized pond.

The only thing worse than bolting out of bed in the middle of the night at the sound of dog-urine hitting the thankfully hardwood floor, is the surprise of having slept through the deluge, and stepping into it as soon as you get up in the morning!

Tonka recently finished another round of antibiotics. I took him back for his follow-up urinalysis (God love the vet tech who gathered that!), only to receive a voice-mail the next day stating that there was a mix-up in the transfer of his urine sample to the lab!!!! Could I bring him back so they could get another sample (I drive a PRIUS for goodness’sake!)?

Urinalysis re-taken…Infection gone…But his kidneys are not functioning as they should be. He’s getting older…slowing down.

When we told the kids (3 ½ years ago) about the first dog’s death, Lucy literally wailed. Henry wept and walked around aimlessly.

I’m not really sure why I share this…Maybe to be reminded that everybody is dealing with something. You and me and that annoying person you work with…Some relatively small “somethings,” and some pretty big “somethings.” But all of us have something going on. And none of us knows all the stories of the hearts of those around us. And all of us are seeking some control of some aspect of our lives…and these constant pee-puddles (or whatever the equivalent is in your life) force us to realize that any control we may assume we have is really just the illusion of control. So, we need to be gentle with each other.

This upcoming Sunday’s gospel lesson includes the parable of the mustard seed…It was a nuisance plant…a weed…like kudzu, you know (the mustard plant). That it was sewn in a field is a result of its seed being so small and indiscernible mixed in among the “proper” seed. So, no one expected to see the plant growing. The Kingdom of God can be a nuisance sometimes (ala the Mustard plant/weed). Way easier to be cynical and judgmental with others – rather than being gentle and “open.”

I focus, sometimes (more often than I like to admit) only on what I expect to see…I don’t sleep well, and am exhausted…worried that a UTI-infested dog may wake up and need to be rushed outside (that’s what I expect…okay, so it may not be the beautiful field of pure crop that the scripture alludes to – but it is what I expect) and so in my frustration, I miss the grace-lessons that this very frustration offers. Maybe an analogical stretch – I’ll grant you that – but even in this frustration, I am being prepared to have patience with others who are also exhausted for whatever reason. I am being prepared to care for those who are aging and losing control of their bodies. I am being prepared to raise children who know love and inevitable loss and care and gentleness.

Mustard seeds and dog-pee…The presence of the Kingdom can be inconvenient…The lessons of grace – even when others have to help us discern those lessons – remind us that God grows in us and brings us to places of peace and compassion and love.

 

The Kingdom of God in Bojangles Coliseum

About a minute-and-a-half after the athletes started coming in, I wanted to knock Ethan out…He’s our Minister of Youth & Families.

He was standing right beside me, and his constant “whoop-whooping” poured down on me from his 6’2” height and echoed throughout the entirety of the Bojangles Coliseum.

 

A bunch of us from the church went to support Ben – St. Luke’s own  Special Olympian (check out www.especiallyben.com ).

 

Anyhow, Ethan’s excitement and enthusiasm were, quite honestly, more than a little annoying – at least at first.

I’m fairly certain that every person there could hear him…which, of course, was the point.

 

He made sure that every Special Olympian processing during the Opening Ceremony on Tuesday knew that they were supported, respected, seen, and cheered for. And before long everyone around, including me, took up his cause – whooping and whistling and shouting and waving for every single athlete (all 1,200 + of them) – like a bunch of crazy, star-struck fans just hoping that one of the athletes might look our way!

 

At one point, I realized that I was laughing out-loud at the same time that tears were rolling down my cheeks…

And I know this sounds a little “hallmark-ish,” but I was experiencing (if that’s the right word), or sitting in the middle of, or being overwhelmed by irresistible and inexplicable joy (truly, truly inexplicable – so, please forgive this feeble attempt at making it explicable)!

 

There, right before my eyes, the Kingdom of God took shape in Bojangles Coliseum.

There, the world was turned upside down.

There, the ones society calls the least and last, were now the first - the heroes and stars and champions.

And we just wanted to be part of it! The love and joy and excitement were palpable.

 

There was not the slightest hint of misplaced sympathy or condescension in the air – not one utterance of  “that poor child,” not a single insinuation of pity.

 

There was just Ethan (who recognized the Kingdom faster than I did) jumping up and down, waiving furiously, whooping until we all could not keep from joining in – celebrating the love and the joy and the inclusion of us all together in the presence of the Kingdom.

 

I Didn't Think Anyone Was Paying Attention...I Was Wrong

I didn’t think anybody was paying attention (You have to hear that with the “pitiful,” “woe is me” tone with which I felt it.).

I was wrong.

 

My secretary (okay – let’s be honest…my “brains”) is over-run with allergies, which are threatening to become bronchitis.

Her name is Sandra, and I can’t afford to be without her…So, on Monday when she started “hacking,” about 5 minutes AFTER she was supposed to go home, I hollered:

“Isn’t it time for you to get out of here…in a loving Christian way?” (I figure, if I end comments or questions with “In a loving Christian  way” then I get a “bye.” Kind of like when southern folks say “God love her,” or “Bless her heart,” as a license to make – hmm….how to say it…”pointed” comments).

She responded by saying:

“Yes it is.

By the way…Isn’t it time for you to get something to eat...in a loving Christian way?”

I just smiled and laughed.

And then I said, “Yes it is. Thank you.”

 

Most days, she is the one who keeps me sane.

She feeds me information on who is where and needs what.

She reminds me what I can and cannot do for people…helps me stay strong in my resolve to say “no” when that is the faithful thing to do, and is a constant resource to help me figure out how to make the “yesses” actually come to pass (I’ve needed her to bail me out on that, more than once).

She takes things “off my plate” when my pile is too high.

And she makes sure that I eat, as she feeds me a steady diet of love, accountability, God-talk (she is better at this than I am), grace, coffee and the occasional “something” that she just baked at home and thought we – in the office – might like.

She puts warmed up left-over-from-the-youth-group pizza in front of me and makes sure that I know when the soup is ready for the “Soup and Study” group – and tells me: “You’d better get in there and get some before it’s all gone!”…And she’s not even Lutheran!!!

 

Without meaning to (or maybe she is aware of it), she reminds me that I among the sheep that Jesus shepherds…That I need to be fed…That I am one of those he calls to who is “Weary and carrying heavy burdens” (Matthew 11.28). That I need to go and hide sometimes in a deserted place without feeling guilty or like I am not doing my job or being productive.

 

As we head toward Good Friday and the cross next week – may we ALL die to the illusion that we are any better than Jesus (who went away to pray or just be alone well over a dozen times in his ministry – and those are just the ones that are recorded!). And having died to that illusion, may we allow ourselves to sit in the silence and soak in the presence of the One who sits with us in the tomb of our “deaths.” May we allow ourselves to be fed (left-over pizza or communion bread) by those who are being Christ to us and who are paying attention, even when we feel like no one “sees” our tired-ness.

And may we all know that none of us has to accomplish everything by ourselves…

May we all know that we are loved and precious and sheep of the shepherd. And may we all be blessed with a Sandra (who is feeling much better, Thanks be to God!).

It's All About Attitude

A couple Saturdays ago, our daughter, Lucy (Lou), had her first audition for a play!

It was for the Jungalbook (the stage adaptation of Jungle Book). I wasn’t allowed into the actual audition. But, when the director came out afterward, she said, “Oh my word! She is soooo creative!”

I said, “I know, right?!”

She said, “I definitely want her in this play!”

I said (in my most nonchalant voice), “Cool.”

 

When Lou got a call-back for the part of Mowgli, she just about lost her mind!

 

And while I did do the good mother thing of helping her understand what a privilege it is just to be part of the play, regardless of what role she might get, in my mind I thought…HOLY COW my child is going to get the starring role in her very first play!!!

 

The next morning, she decided to take her “script” with her to church. “No offense, Mom – but I don’t actually pay a lot of attention in church…I can practice my lines.”

 

Cliff took her to the call-back because I had Confirmation that day.

I got the blow-by-blow when I got home.

She and a couple others read for Mowgli (in my mind – again – I thought, “Others?!?!? Why in Sweet Betty’s name should any other child read for my child’s role?!?!”).

 

The cast list was promised to be emailed by 7:00 that evening.

 

Needless to say, 7:00 came and went.

So did 8:00 (at which point, Lucy was in bed).

And 9:00.

Around 10:00 my email “ding-ed”…It was the cast list.

 

There it was right, first name on the list, written right beside the character name MOWGLI…SOME OTHER CHILD’S NAME!!!!

 

I couldn’t believe it!!!

I was heartbroken.

I kept looking down further and further on the cast list.

Surely they wouldn’t send this to me if my child didn’t make the play at all!

 

Finally under “snake,” there is her name – one of FOUR parts of the snake!

Then, there is her name again – under “vulture.”

And then a third time – under “monkey.”

 

The next morning, Lucy sat up in bed, and the first thing out of her mouth: “Mom did you get the email?”

Oh…how to break it to her?

I’d been worrying about it all night.

I took a breath.

Sat down beside her on the bed.

Pulled her up to sit on my lap.

And just came out with it: “Lucy, you are part of the snake, a vulture, and a monkey.”

Immediately, she leapt down from the bed, spun and jumped and squealed…

”NO WAY!!!! I get to do THREE costume changes!!!!”

“Let me see…let me see…let me see!

Oh Mom…Look! There’s my name! THREE TIMES!”

“And look, Faith got the part of Mowgli. I’m so happy for her. She did such a GREAT job!”

 

There are about a dozen kids in the play.

Lucy has already started designing a sock doll (her current crafting specialty) for every person in the cast – a doll that looks like whatever role they are playing.

I guess there are some kids who will get three different dolls.

 

So, please don’t throw away your old socks…Send them to us.

 

If it’s all about attitude (and I suspect it is), then I have a lot to learn from my daughter.

“If one member is honored, all rejoice together with it” (1 Cor. 12.26b).