December passages

Who could have foretold I would lose both parents just one year apart! Just as I was moving on from a year of mourning Mom's death, I got a call from Gracie the day before I was to go to see Dad for a visit. Dad was failing quickly. Larry re-booked me and within 20 minutes of Gracie's call, I was out the door.
God's ways were already becoming clear - I had completely packed that morning and was ready to go. When the flight was delayed a half hour, I didn't panic; I knew I was in His hands. When we had to sit on the tarmac for 30 minutes, I was at peace. When it took 45 minutes for my bags to come, I still knew I'd be on time to see Dad. It was part of the plan.
The limo driver drove 85 miles/hour in freezing sleet on the empty toll road and I was there at Dad's side in 35 minutes from Midway.
He was already in that sleep that would last despite any attempts to waken him so I was free to hold him and cry. He had changed much since I visited in August, thinner in the face, sunken in the eyes. He was already changing, leaving his body.
Gracie and I sat holding his hand through the night with Gracie taking a nap in the early morning hours.

In the early morning hours, as I sat alone, I pondered the lamp post outside his window as the snow drifted gently down. Like Narnia. Dad was stepping through the door to another world. Aslan was on the move, coming to find him. Dad's winter of life was ending. Summer - heaven was about to begin.
As the sun began to rise, we noticed changes in his fingernails as they turned blue and his face grew pale.
His feet became purple and cold.
His breathing changed, slowed.
He coughed and stopped breathing several times.
And then he stopped breathing.
We kissed him; we held him. We spilled our tears on him. We sang over him and thanked God for such a man who was our father, who showed us God.
Alberto came in minutes later. He, too, held Dad and wept. "Rodney! Oh, my American Father. Oh, friend."
Dad was godly and brave and faithful and gallant and honorable and true and quiet and strong and wise and funny and loving and tender and good.
He loved God's word more than anything and had much memorized which he would recite on his many many walks.

Hospice told us that though Dad was often unresponsive in these last days, they would sit and read to him from his Bible. He would stir. The Holy Spirit was active and ministering to his spirit though he couldn't communicate with anyone. He knew his God and was known by his God and for that we are grateful and have peace.
Dad, thank you for giving us life; thank you for living life so well; thank you for the beautiful life you gave us.
Thank you for showing us the love of God and bringing us to His Son, Jesus Christ.
We will miss you forever, Dad. You and Mom were the best.

December 2012

December.
December has begun.
I've been reluctantly anticipating this all year.
It was a year ago yesterday that Valerie, little Julian and I hurriedly left for Chicago.
Mom had taken a turn for the worse and within hours we were on a plane to be with her.
In 10 days it will be a year since she left us.
In 10 days it will be a year since she realized her life-long dream to see her Savior and enjoy the great party in Heaven.
I have worn black since November 12.
I have worn a piece of Mom's jewelry since November 12.
I have let myself cry all year, and it comes more frequently and more easily only lately - a curious thing to me.
December 13 will mark the end of a year of mourning.
December 13 will begin a new year.

you've got to crush the grape to get the wine

No, we aren't tending a vineyard.
But we have been crushed. Ground. Shattered. Demolished. Decimated.
The business is falling apart.
Pride is being exposed.
Sin is laughing in our faces.

There is nowhere to go but to God.
He is there.
He has always been there.
He is forgiving.
He is healing.
He is picking up the pieces.
He is making all things new.
We are not standing yet but we are not down and out.
We have been humbled and hope to stay there - standing tall - under His grace.
"A bruised reed He will not break And a dimly burning wick He will not extinguish; He will faithfully bring forth justice." Isaiah 42:3

why all the angst

My delay in booking a ticket to go to Chicago in mid-July resulted in having to go the following week as the ticket price had tripled! I arrived the following Thursday Gracie and I worked all Friday morning going through Mom's things - choosing some for storage, some for giving to others, some for the "circular storage bin". It was really hard to look at letters, mementos kept 60 years which seemed insignificant to us, useless or unwanted - yet hard to toss. These were things that have mattered to her over the years. How could we be so cavalier to toss them! We spent a long time lingering over some of the decisions.
Later that afternoon, we sat in the front lounge with mom, Dad and Alberto. It was a busy day; people coming and going through the front doors. We were singing and laughing and visiting. I suggested we move to the rehab lounge which would have been quieter and more private. No, Mom wanted to stay there.
Not much later, an old lady, soaking wet from the heat and humidity of the day, struggled through the front door, banging her walker in her efforts to get in and over to the front desk. We heard her tell Madre, "I'm so confused. I'm lost and don't know how to get home." Madre asked her where she lived. Gracie heard - it was not far from where she lives - over an hour away in the afternoon traffic, not accessible by freeways.
Madrew led her to sit with us and called for nurses to come take her blood pressure and listen to her heart as well as bring juice and food. Poor Helen had been to the Dr. an hour from where we were sitting - about 2 hours from her home - and had had to fast 36 hours for some tests. Now, hungry, dehydrated and lost some 40 hours later, she sat with us in tears.
Gracie and I looked at each other. We knew we had to take her home. Over her protestations and armed with a map from Madre, Gracie drove Helen's car and I followed. The story unfolding in the car in front of me began in Latvia 88 years ago. WWII came and the Germans rescued Helen's family from the Russians. Helen landed in W. Germany where she became a Dr., married and had two sons. Her husband died early. Once her sons became adults, they came to the states and she followed some years later. She was churched as a child but after marriage, never went back.
Helen tried to pay Gracie for our troubles. Gracie refused. When Helen asked why we would do this for her, a stranger, Gracie had the opportunity to tell her that we wanted her to feel the love of Jesus through us but even more, to know the love of Jesus for herself in her own life. Helen's tears came but there was no more response.
On the way home, Gracie told me all about Helen's life and the conversation that ensued. Phone numbers were exchanged and Gracie said she would call Helen for her birthday (they are going out this week!).
As we talked, Gracie and I realized that if I had gone the Thursday I had originally planned, we wouldn't have been sitting in the lounge that afternoon. And if we had moved to the other lounge, we wouldn't have been sitting in the lounge that afternoon. We thanked God that He was leading us in these seemingly inconsequential decisions.
Gracie's husband, David, joined us for dinner with Mom and Dad. David and Gracie planned to stay in Mom's apartment in the midst of all the stuff we still had to organize. A roll-away bed was being delivered. I asked them to come with me to the home in which I was staying. Gracie has stayed there before; it is very lovely and comfortable. She and David thought on it but in the end, opted for the apartment. As they were falling asleep, there was a pounding on the wall and a feeble voice calling, "Is anybody there?" Twice this happened. Concerned, Gracie ran down the hall to get a nurse, thinking that the neighbor had heard talking in what should be an empty apartment. The nurse found that the man had fallen and couldn't get up. Again, what seemed to be an inconsequential decision to stay in the apartment that night turned out to have great consequences for the old man.
Application?
Trying to put together the Latin schedule the past two weeks has been difficult at best. Some families, back out, others don't answer emails, others change days and times repeatedly. How should I apply what I learned in Chicago? God is ironing out a perfect schedule for me and for my students. He is choosing with whom each student should study. It is like watching him play a board game!! So I can sit back and watch what He is doing and when the dust settles, I'll have His answer for me. I hope I carry this lesson into the more difficult situation that are bound to come.
Thank you Lord, for graciously teaching me what I need to know.

things we spend

Time and money.
We spend both of these.
But only the money we spend can be earned back; the things we buy can be returned.
Time, once spent, is gone.

a monumental day

I became a grandmother at 8:11 a.m. for the first time!!
I became a doula at 6:15 p.m.
I am posting my 100th post.

reflecting on a Job well done

"Job never receives an explanation for his suffering. Job loses his family, his material prosperity and his health, yet God never tells him that he was being tested by Satan, nor is the reader told why God wants Job to endure such testing. For much of the book, Job is left without any tangible response from God. When God does speak, He essentially tells Job that he does not understand, but that He, God is good and sovereign. God answers not by changing Job’s situation right away, but by showing Job that he has not been abandoned.
In the end, Job receives a double portion of blessing; his health is restored and he has more children. Yet, even though this story has a "good ending" of sorts because Job is blessed for keeping his integrity by refusing to curse God, it leaves the reader unsettled. Job does not receive his children back. Job is never given an answer from God except, "I know what I’m doing, trust Me."
The book of Job emphasizes that man cannot understand God’s purposes and calls man to trust that God knows what He is doing and will bless those who take refuge in Him. In essence, there is no purpose to questioning God. God is good and God is in control."
This makes me think of Orual's situation. "Are you answered?" asked the gods of Orual. "Yes. You yourself are the answer."
Read the whole essay here - it includes commentary on Till We Have Faces.

why it's called a blog

I wonder if it is because it has the word "blaaaahhhh" in it. So when you are feeling that way, you can work it out through writing about it..........
I remember the saying,"Not only do our beliefs change our behaviour, but also our behaviour changes our beliefs."

I'm struggling with polarically opposite feelings about something that happened to me and I can't quite seem to sort them out.




Maybe I don't have to. Maybe the answer is to say - it happened, God caused it and He will somehow weave this into beauty in and for me (and perhaps for others) and that is enough for me to know.
The feelings are real but shouldn't be the focus of my thoughts. Perhaps that is where He wants me to come to rest. So in my ongoing quest to accept the sovereignty of God in my life and find grace and peace there for whatever He sends my way, perhaps feelings are overrated in priority. They must submit themselves to truth - and the truth is - God loves me and does all things for my good.



So blaaaaaahhhh just turned to blog.
Thinking better; feeling better.
First things first!

(see myself at http://thisismarcisworld.blogspot.com/2010/09/darkenss.html)

hands

A woman does so many things with her hands.
A mother does a few more: caresses her husband, cares for her children, cooks, cleans, cultivates, comforts, creates. (I promise, I didn't try to alliterate.)
My mother has "the Johnson hands". So do I. So does Lydia.
There are times when we have wished for longer fingers - octaves seem bigger to us; rings look nicer on long fingers. But God gave us "Johnson hands" and I think we are all at peace with that now. Perhaps even proud.
So when I posted a crumby picture of my mother kneading bread, my friend, Sarah, who hasn't taken a crumby picture in - well - forever, asked to do a similar photo shoot.

My mother's hands have aged. They have spots and wrinkles. They aren't as strong as they used to be. But during her visit here, I've seen her hands working to lighten my load, make a baby blanket, cook and chop and knead. Her hands still do what they have always done - extend love in various creative ways.

Our "Johnson hands" work as well as all other hands of grander proportion and physical beauty. The real beauty is in what our hands do. And these are precious, beautiful hands.

stay thirsty, my friends

"The Reformation was a time when men went blind, staggering drunk because they had discovered, in the dusty basement of late medievalism, a whole cellar full of fifteen-hundred-year-old, two-hundred proof grace–bottle after bottle of pure distillate of Scripture, one sip of which would convince anyone that God saves us singlehandedly. The word of the Gospel–after all those centuries of trying to lift yourself into heaven by worrying about the perfection of your bootstraps–suddenly turned out to be a flat announcement that the saved were home free before they started…Grace was to be drunk neat: no water, no ice, and certainly no ginger ale…"

- Robert Farrar Capon - The Ragamuffin Gospel
via Andy Jones

humble pie was the key

Last Sunday, I was sitting in my pew, minding my own business. Things have been going well. Our children seem to be in good places in their lives - learning through struggles, enjoying successes. Larry and I are fine. Things have been humming along.
One of the pastors approached me about 20 minutes before church was to start and said the organist would not be there that morning and could I play piano for church. Just that morning, as I was driving in to Sunday School, I had thought to myself how I haven't played the piano at home in over a year and that I should really dust off both it - and myself!! God seemed to be saying that the time to start was right then!!
I quickly practiced in another room. Things didn't sound too good but the clock ticked right to the last moment. Time to go!!
As I sat up there, a bit nervous, a bit trembly, I realized - once again - that God owns me. He was doing just what He wanted to do with me. He wanted to humble me. He would use my complete weakness and total imperfection to humble me. The morning progressed better than the practice session earlier that morning but my playing was far from perfect, far from good, maybe just OK. But somewhere during the acapella of the first hymn, I asked God to take my hands and make them His to do whatever He wanted. More than that, I asked Him to take my attitude and make it His, as well. No one likes to be embarassed. The potential for that was high on the embarass-o-meter. I chose to score high on the willing-o-meter that day.
I'd like to say I played better after my change of heart. I didn't. But I did manage to calm down. I managed to stop shaking. I managed to sing several of the verses. I managed to let God do whatever he wanted to do with my hands. He let them play, He let me be humbled, He let me enjoy the morning.
It's easier to see God when things are out of my control, and out of control things were!! And so, I saw God work in me Sunday morning.

end of the year

It is the end of the year and I am feeling a bit reflective.
I recently returned home, having been in Chicago for a few days; this time to finish helping move Mom into assisted living.
I sense she is rather reflective these days, thinking about all the changes she has experienced in the past several years. She and Dad sold their house and bought a condo which they loved. Within a few years, they sold that and moved to Covenant Village, the graduated care facility in Northbrook where they now live. Dad moved to the secured Alzheimer's unit in March; we just moved Mom to assisted living December 2. The loss of independence has caused her to feel unsettled, displaced, confused, uncertain. One can hardly blame her! She thinks back to days not long ago when she could roll over to see Dad there next to her in bed; they companionably watched TV together at night; ate breakfast together. Now they live those intimate moments alone. And she thinks about it.
So do I.

What I think about is all the wonderful years they have loved each other. I am particularly aware of it when I visit and see Dad struggle to stand when Mom slowly walks down the hall toward him. She arrives to greet him and he wraps her in a hug and beams at her, tears occassionally coming to his eyes. He tells her he loves her. He tells her how beautiful she is.
He usually knows who she is but there are times when he confuses her with his mother or his beloved first wife who died long years ago. But he knows one thing for sure; he loves this woman mightily.
When I see this scene, I reflect on how their love is alive at a mitochondrial level. No function or malfunction of his mind has touched his love for her.
As for Mom? She rarely misses a moment to sit with him. Each day, all day, she is there with him. She doesn't always understand him when he tries to talk. His eyes are not always open. He has no news to share with her, no idea to add to the conversation. But she loves him as he loves her. Just being together is enough now.

So I reflect on these things at the end of this year of great change. I think about how I have been privileged to see that love when it was much younger and exuberant. I think about how I have been "programmed" to want their kind of love. I think about how blessed I am to get glimpses of a deep, abiding, secure, faithful, mature love near the end of its days.
And I am thankful.

to err is human; to forgive is... nearly impossible

I was reading another blog this morning. It was about how hard it is to apologize. So true. To admit I am wrong is against my human nature. I want to be right. I want others to know I am right!
Then I remembered a study done on forgiveness. I posted this in response to the other blog:
I think forgiving is much harder than apologizing. Forgiving is releasing the offender from the load they carry for the wrong done and taking it on myself. It is caring for the person who offended me. There is almost never a way to make the situation better once an offense has occurred. Only forgiveness does that. And the wounded one bears the load.

That is why the cross is so wonderful. I can't carry the load I just took PLUS the wound the offense gave me. I MUST take it to the cross where I am forced to remember that Jesus took ALL my sins/offenses and died for my freedom from judgment, guilt and shame.
Forgiveness is harder than an apology - but true forgiveness refreshes my perspective on who I am in Christ.
And so, an apology must be made with the awareness of what it is one is really asking the other person to do for you - take your offense for you.

my back is back

Sometimes living daily life is dangerous. Was it the vacuuming that did it? Was it reaching for that weed behind the flowers? Was it struggling with the flax leaf that wouldn't come loose?
What ever it was, a disk slipped and a nerve got pinched and I went down in pain.
We are fragile creatures, taken down by little things.
It is humbling to be human - both words finding their root in the Latin word for earth. And so I am reminded that I am dust - dust that is, nevertheless, headed for heaven. In this earthen vessel lives an eternal indestructable spirit!! Even this dust will be made new and everlasting.
Being down these last 5 days has given me plenty of time to reflect on the curious reality of holding eternity in a temporary,fragile, earthen vessel.

it's like looking at my face in a mirror

In one more month, I will be leading another group of friends in a discussion of C.S. Lewis' powerful story "Till We Have Faces". I have said it before - aside from the Bible, it is my favorite story.
Orual is perhaps the most complex character crafted by an author. Her self deception, self transformation, self destruction are disturbing to read. I often feel like shouting at her!

The other day I was reading the part where she sees Psyche's new home, the mansion on the forbidden side of the mountain. She sees it, and denies she sees it. Right in front of her yet not there!!! It makes me want to slap the snot out of her. (My college roommate used to say that to me!!)
Then I remembered that Orual represents me in the story. God puts Himself in my path all day, every day. I don't/won't see Him!!
Lewis has slapped me.
I am snotless.

if it isn't one thing, it's the same thing

So if there isn't enough to keep one's mind occupied, now I have to worry about the pH of my body.
A new friend and I were talking about this. She tests herself every morning and maintains a healthy pH. I was sent home with a roll of pH paper and challenged to test myself.
I have work to do!! 'Nuf said.

David needed a shepherd

The Lord is my Shepherd. So David wrote.

He would know what that meant. Being a shepherd himself he would know what it meant to call the Lord his Shepherd.

Sheep are needy creatures. They fall down and don't know how to get up. They charge each other and butt heads and deliver wounds in the head because their wool causes them to sort of stick rather than graze off each other. They foolishly follow each other - not always to good and safe places. If they wander off, they can't find their way back to the herd. No wonder the shepherd needed to help those who were cast down and couldn't get up; anoint heads with oil so the butting heads wouldn't cause injury but rather slide off each other; stay close to the sheep to keep wandering off to a minimum; leave the sheep to search for the one who got lost.

They are quite helpless creatures. David knew this.

So to compare himself to a sheep was quite profound. To call God his Shepherd was quite lovely. David once wrote, “Yet I am poor and needy; may the Lord think of me. You are my help and my deliverer; O my God, do not delay.” We all need guidance. We all need direction. We all need help, in this life. It is a good thing to recognize one’s neediness, for this realization puts one in position to be guided, directed, and helped. Only the needy know they need a shepherd. Only those who realize their need for guidance can be guided.

Falling down, wounding myself and others, getting lost. Sounds like things I do. I, too, need this Shepherd. And He is mine!!!

How Shall We Then Live?

Having to miss church this morning due to ongoing strep throat, I was listening to a sermon on the radio. The preacher was talking about "How Shall We Then Live" - spinning off of Francis Shaeffer's book of the same title. One of his points had to do with redemption. These are my musings from the sermon point. I can't read or listen to someone who is articulate without thinking about the words being used. (There is a difference to me between words used and words said - I think words are often tools and not merely said but used.) And being a Latin teacher, I hear derivatives and think about root words. Redemption. It's root word is emo, emere, emi, emptus - to buy. With the prefix stuck on it - we understand redemo... to mean: to buy back; to recover. These are two of the dictionary definitions of the word redeem. So what!! To buy back from what? Recover what? Well, if redemption in the biblical sense has to do with the payment of the blood of Jesus which He made to God with for our salvation, forgiveness, ownership, putting us in sonship with God, then our redemption means we are made perfect in God's sight. He sees us as he sees Jesus. Are we then back to the condition of Adam? Was he perfect? I don't think so. Perfect is another Latin derivative. It comes from two words which together mean thoroughly done, thoroughly complete. Adam was not thoroughly done. He had to pass the test, resist temptation. He didn't; He was never perfect. He was created sinless but not perfect. No. We are better off than Adam was. If God sees us as He sees Jesus, we are perfect. We are not sinless but we are perfect. In Adam, we failed. But now that we are in Jesus, hidden in Him, we pass!! We pass the test because we are in Him! There is nothing left to be done to be in relationship with God. As Jesus is in relationship with God, we are in relationship with God. God bought us back from Adam's condition. We had once been - in Adam - sinless. That wasn't enough for God. He wanted for us the perfection of Christ. And so, through Christ's blood sacrifice, we were bought back to God, beyond sinless, all the way to perfect. Profound. We are not sinless but we are perfect. We are redeemed. The question then is: How shall we then live?

lost right in front of us - but oh! so found

Dad's Alzheimers is overtaking what is really precious now.
His little blondie, Gracie, seems to be lost to him.
"Where did you grow up?" he asked her the other day.

"Dad, I'm your blondie, Gracie. I grew up in your house with you. I'm your daughter."
"No one told me that!"
He's so lost in another world, yet there sits that once wonderfully active, strong and handsome body.
He's pretty much gone.
Why does God leave him here?
What is left to us?
Whenever Gracie reads Scripture in the garden or gets out the old church hymnal to sing or asks Dad to pray, Dad is unnervingly in the moment. He is coherent, accurate, quotes Scripture, full of praise, aware of family names and needs.
Why does God leave him here with us?

So that we can see God in all His glory in this disease-ravaged, imperfect and broken vessel we still lovingly call "Dad".
A few weeks ago - maybe even as recently as this morning, to be honest - I would have said that Dad wouldn't want to live like this - in a nursing home, unable to go where he wants to go, be home with his dear wife of 56 years, drive his car, watch TV in his own family room, feed the birds, take a walk. But he is living how he has always lived - giving praise to His dear Savior.
Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. 2 Corinthians 4:16-19

here and now

I read this in a blog this morning and want to remember it.

Do you realise that the only time in our lives when we like to get old is when we're kids?
If you're less than 10 years old, you're so excited about ageing that you think in fractions.
'How old are you?' 'I'm four and a half!' You're never thirty-six and a half.
You're four and a half, going on five! That's the key.
You get into your teens, now they can't hold you back. You jump to the next number, or even a few ahead.
'How old are you?'
'I'm gonna be 16!' You could be 13,
but hey, you're gonna be 16!
And then the greatest day of your life ...... .
You become 21.
Even the words sound like a ceremony.
You become 21.....YES!
But then you turn 30. Oooohh,
what happened there?
Makes you sound like bad milk!
He TURNED; we had to throw him out.
Then you're PUSHING 40.... Whoa!
Put on the brakes,
it's all slipping away.
Before you know it, you REACH 50 and your dreams are gone
But wait!!!
You MAKE it to 60.
You didn't think you would!
You've built up so much speed that you HIT 70!
Crash!
After that it's a day-by-day thing.

You get into your 80's and every day is a complete cycle.
And it doesn't end there.
Before you know it, you are into the 90s, you start going backwards;
'I Was JUST 92.'
Then a strange thing happens.
If you make it over 100, you become a little kid again. 'I'm 100 and a half!' May you all make it to a healthy 100 and a half!!

Some things to remember - no matter how old you are:
1. Throw out nonessential numbers.
This includes age, weight and height. Let the doctors worry about them. That is why you pay 'them'
2. Keep only cheerful friends.
The grouches pull you down.
3. Keep learning.
Learn more about the computer, crafts, gardening, whatever... Never let the brain idle. 'An idle mind is the devil's workshop.' And the devil's name is Alzheimer's.
4. Enjoy the simple things.
5. Laugh often, long and loud.
Laugh until you gasp for breath.
6. Tears happen. Endure, grieve, and move on.
The only person, who is with us our entire life, is ourselves. Be ALIVE while you are alive.
7. Surround yourself with what you love.
That means family, pets, keepsakes, music, plants, hobbies, whatever. Your home is your refuge.
8.Cherish your health:
If it is good, preserve it. If it is unstable, improve it. If it is beyond what you can improve, get help.
9. Don't take guilt trips.
Take a trip to the mall, even to the next county; to a foreign country but NOT to where the guilt is. And don't travel alone if you can help it.
10. Tell the people that you love them, at every opportunity.
AND ALWAYS REMEMBER : Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.