Wondering, Wandering, and Writing

Grief is weird.  SO weird.

(Our twelve-year-old just said, “No, it isn’t.  I had some of that when my dad didn’t come home.”
I asked, “When he died?”
“No, after a fire sometimes mom wouldn’t go and he went there [the station] instead of coming home.”  I think that proves my point.  Grief is weird.)

For all we’ve been through, I think that with counseling, friends, family, and prayer, I’ve processed things …. Okayily.  (Yeah, I made up that word.)

And then yesterday happened.

I have a friend who is going through a tough situation.  It’s tough.  She’s sharing and friends are praying and helping out.  But yesterday afternoon I just started crying over it.  Couldn’t help it.  Tears streamed down my face.  My heart literally ached.  Why?  Why them?  Why this?  Why me? Why am I reacting like this?  Empathy is one thing but seriously?!?!?!!

And then thoughts from my past inched their way to the top of my thoughts.  The similarities of trying so hard to do the right thing, having no clue what to do next, searching for answers, crying out in prayer, reaching out for help, sifting through advice, knowing that God will carry us through but having NO idea or vision of how it will happen.

Life can be hard.  The pains of the past, even those we think we’ve dealt with and left behind, can sneak up and twist the knife again.

I’m okay this morning.  I’m writing in case anyone else finds themselves hanging on by a thread – crying out for divine help for self or others.  God is able.  God is willing.  The path may not be what we hoped.  It probably won’t be what we planned.  But, God is good and he walks with us.

Be kind to each other. – Ephesians 4:32

#bgwww24

Some go like the crash of a waterfall.

Others ease out of sight, so slowly we barely perceive it – like the trickle from a calm pool by the side of a river.

people

businesses

jobs

events

relationships

abilities

Every loss leaves a hole.

Some big.

Others small.

Some seen by many.

Others by a precious few.

Still, the pain can be deep and sharp and long.

It takes work to keep going.

To find employment.

To mend family relationships.

To allow new friendships to form.

To find a new place to eat or shop or share a drink and a story or to vacation.

To learn different ways to accomplish everyday tasks.

To accept that the future is going to look very little like what we had envisioned.

One thing is certain –
    whether drops tumbled over an outcropping, fell through the air, and crashed onto rocks below

    or it floated lazily by the bank of a wide, slow river –  it is gone.

Gone.  Not coming back.

So what to do?

Follow it to the ocean, of course.


#bgwww24

This is a few days early, but I have the time and inclination so I’m writing now.

We’ve all seen the social media posts about “We’ve been together xx years and been through a lot, but we’d do it all over again.”  Well, I’m here to admit, as Chuck and I have admitted to each other, that we’re not so sure we would do it all over again.

Yes, you read that right.  After 44 years of marriage, and being content with where we are, neither of us is real sure that if had we known even half of what we would face, that the evening back in December of 1976 would have gone the way it did.  But he did buy a ring.  And he asked me to marry him.  And I said yes.  And we told Daddy it was just a promise ring. Just over a year later, for my 18^th birthday, Chuck gave me my real engagement ring.  Four months later we said “I do” in front of family and friends.

Fast forward through two children, a business that folded, craziness at church, and an accident that nearly took Chuck outta here a few times, and we end up in January, 2004.  I couldn’t handle our marriage situation any longer and I left.  Several weeks later a mutual friend convinced me to give the marriage another chance.  And, in June, just after our wedding anniversary, we were back together. 

It was the best-case scenario.  God blessed us with the ability to truly start over with blank slates.  That kind of forgiveness and renewal is truly a gift from God.  We have our history – the good, the bad, the ugly, the precious.  We have a better relationship since getting back together than we had ever had during our first quarter century together.

We’ve dealt with several things that typically end in divorce. We’ve often wondered if we handled things correctly (some we did, some we didn’t). And yet, here we are – twenty years after starting over – facing the challenges of the day, doing the best we can with the information we have at the time, and looking forward to another bunch of years.

There are times to throw in the towel and quit.  There were a lot of times we could have.  I’m thankful we’ve picked it up together.

#bgwww24

We have heard some stories today.  We’ve laughed and cried. We’ve spent the past week reminiscing over the times we have spent together and with Randy.  And now, for just a moment, I want each of you to come up with one sentence to describe Randy’s importance to you or the community.

Now, in an inside voice, tell someone sitting near you.

How many of you included the word leader?  Motorcycle? Patriot? Insurance? Daddy? Politics? Medical knowledge? Radio? Evangelist?

What? No one chose evangelist?! Well, that’s not really surprising.  Randy was not one to Bible-thump on a street corner nor stand in a pulpit.   He lived out his beliefs more than he talked about them.  Although he did, a few times, expound upon some scripture during an episode of Good Morning Upcountry.

Some of you here today have great comfort in knowing that Randy is walking the streets of gold and enjoying the company of Jesus and loved ones who have gone before.  Some of you are comforted by the knowledge that Randy is at rest, awaiting the Great Resurrection Day when we will all join Jesus.  Randy might have had a discussion with you about that, but there’s no falling out over which of those you believe.  He did, however, want to be sure people he knew and loved KNOW that there is more than this physical life, and the choices we make matter both in the here and now and in the eternal.

Let me tell you a little story about Thomas (not his real name, but he was a real person).  Randy loved Thomas.  The fact that Thomas lived in the Blue Ridge Mountains and rode a motorcycle didn’t hurt anything.  They would ride and share a meal and sit around a campfire and tell stories and maybe even pass a bottle to have a sip. Then, Thomas was diagnosed with cancer – one of those “you ain’t got real long left, buddy, get your stuff in order” kind of situations.  Randy thrived on helping people. The help Thomas most needed was spiritual.  Thomas was an atheist. This life is all there is.  There is no God.  There is no afterlife.  You’re born, you live, you die, you’re done.

This combination of Thomas’s belief and his cancer spurred Randy to make a visit specifically to talk with Thomas about spiritual matters. Randy’s part of the conversation went something like this.

There is a God, who created the universe and us.

There is an afterlife. This physical life is NOT all there is.

There is a judgment after this physical life ends.

You get to spend eternity with God in a new heaven and earth or you burn. You get to decide which.  Jesus lived, died, and was resurrected so that we can be with God forever.  If we believe in Jesus and follow his teachings, accepting God’s grace and forgiveness, then we get to spend eternity in heaven.

Well, Thomas still said there was no God and basically that all of that was hogwash.

  Randy concluded with a story like this.

You know what gravity is, right?  That invisible force that holds us to the earth so that we don’t float into outer space?  There are a lot of people who don’t understand gravity.  There are people who don’t believe gravity exists.  It still works.  Gravity still holds them to the earth.   And all of this about Jesus, God, an afterlife, and having a choice is like gravity.  You can’t see it.  You don’t have to believe it.  It’s still the way things work.

#bgwww24

            The terrible, awful, rotten, no good, I-never-want-to-do-this-again! church service happened right here on June 16, 2019. 

            Yes, I will get to today’s theme, but it will take a few minutes.

            In late May, 2019, I decided it was time to drive less than 30 minutes (and past a dozen churches) to go to church.  So, I came up with a list of 5 or 6 churches to visit and see how they felt.  Lucas and Welcome are the closest; that narrowed down the choices for the first visit.  I started with Lucas.

            I had attended Bible studies led by Connie Post.  The boys had attended VBS and Easter Egg hunts here.  I let Connie know we were coming because she knew our story and that it could be an emotional day.  1 – Visting to find a new home church. 2- My daddy had died a few years before and it was Father’s Day.  3 – Our son, the boys’ daddy, had died the previous October. Still, I was under-prepared for the emotional roller-coaster ride.

            At 11am, we sat near the back of the church as the service started. 

            By 11:20, my wiggle worms were really wiggly.  But – children’s church should start soon.

            At 11:30, the boys were moving the entire length of the pew and crawling under the pew.  I gave up trying to get anything out of the service.  I prayed others could ignore the disruptions.

            11:35 I was so embarrassed I was ready for Scottie to beam us to another planet. Through gritted teeth I told the boys if they moved one more time we were leaving.

            Before 11:40 we were headed out the door to wails of, “Please let us stay,” “But we’ll be good, I promise,” and “Don’t make us go!”

In the parking lot, I texted Connie, “Obviously there has been some miscommunication and there is NO children’s church.  I can’t do this.”     

She quickly replied, “This is the last song before Children’s church.  We’re going to my backyard.  Bring the boys.”

I left the boys with her and drove to McDonald’s for iced tea.  I was so thankful for her compassion.  I was so embarrassed I wanted to face no one else.  When your child’s different abilities cannot be quickly discerned because of physical appearance, the general assumption is that you are a bad parent.  I know better, but that morning I felt every sideways glance and imagined more.  I felt completely inept.  I should probably throw in the towel and drive off, alone, into the sunset.

Instead, just after noon I picked up the boys.  Of course I saw people in the parking lot.  And bless your hearts – sincerely! – you spoke to me.  I’m sorry I don’t remember who it was.  Two women (at least) made time to apologize for the longer than usual time before children’s church and to ask me to please give the church another chance.  Others reached out through facebook and texts.    To have a morning go so terribly wrong and still feel compassion and acceptance – THAT is the power of the resurrection.  That is the Holy Spirit working through a family of believers – working to counsel, encourage, and generally minister to a hurting family.

            We all like big things: big events, large crowds at church, lots of decisions, a hundred likes on social media.  However, the power of the Spirit shows up every day in small ways that can make a huge difference to an individual.  The power of the resurrection enables a believer to send a text, make a call, sit quietly (or not so quietly) over coffee, watch children, deliver a meal, read a story, sing a song, contribute toward a mission trip, pray daily for our leaders, attend a memorial service, clean up messes, teach a class, decorate, and a hundred other things.

            Please do not undervalue the power of the Holy Spirit – the power of the resurrection – in the little everyday things you do.  You just may be the Balm of Gilead to a hurting soul.

(This was originally presented Sunday, March 31, 2024 at Lucas Avenue Baptist Church as one of five testimonies about The Power of the Resurrection in Our Lives.)

#bgwww24

The Background
            My sister and I decided to get away for a couple nights.  Just us.  No children, no dogs, no spouses.  Just us.  And our spouses agreed!  Yay!  (You probably understand that’s the only way we can get away with no children.)  The plan?  None.  Well, of course we’ll eat. Sleep.  Play Scrabble without keeping score.  Nothing exciting or stressful.  We booked a place that seemed to fit the bill and is halfway between us.  We probably paid too much, but I’ve been known to do that from time to time.

The “Coffee Pot”
            The first morning, I awoke first.  I had my usual cup of hot tea.  After a while I decided to make a pot of coffee so it would be ready when Nancy awoke. Well …… this coffee machine also makes expresso and froths milk or whatever and operating it turned out to be above my pay grade.  Finding where to put the coffee grounds took a minute.  “Open” is barely visible on the front of that compartment.  I pushed there and WHALA, I could put the coffee grounds in place.  Now … water.  I searched on the front, on the top, and on the sides.  I pulled a tab on the back and a plastic ruler-looking thing came up.  I put it back.  FINALLY …. I saw a symbol of three drops of water on the top.  I pushed there, and like magic a space for water appeared.  I poured in the water and put the carafe under the grounds-holder. I pushed the “coffee on/off” button.  Nothing. Well, it does help if the thing is pulled in.  Plug it in.  Push the button.  Go sit on the sofa and sip my tea.  No sounds from the coffee pot.  That’s a bit odd.  So, I check out the situation.  There is nothing in the carafe.  What the heck?! 
            Thank goodness for the internet and instruction manuals.   While looking for instructions I see this machine is only $349 on Amazon.  Yeah, we’re in a place above my usual lifestyle.  I’m all for the economy coffee pot from Wal-Mart or Dollar General.  But, I’ve digressed and we still want coffee.  The instructions look incredulous.  I’m supposed to pour a full pot of water into this little space beside the coffee grounds and I can’t find a way the water can get from that little space to anywhere else?  I fill the carafe again.  I slowly pour the water into this small space that seems to have no outlet, expecting to clean up a puddle.  I am amazed that the water gurgles its way into the reservoir for the coffee maker.  I put the grounds back in place, then the carafe, push the button, and wait.
            A few minutes later we had coffee. 😊
            The reservoir for the expresso is still full, and probably will be when we leave.
            Later that day, we tried to use the dishwasher.  That’s another story.

#bgwww24

Time heals all wounds.
Eh.
Sorta.
Kinda.
No, not really.
Well, maybe.

Healing can be a subjective thing, especially when you think of a lot of kinds of wounds.

Many scratches and cuts leave barely a trace of the injury.  A little scratch left uncleaned can turn into a mess and a forever-lasting scar. Surgery cuts leave anything from no trace to a lumpy, bumpy eyesore. Then there’s internal cuts and tears and repairs.  One neat little scar shows on the surface, meanwhile a mess of scar tissue causes havoc on the inside.  Burn scars are treated in a variety of ways to make them look better and feel better and that area of the body to function better.  Without special garments, physical therapy, and massage, burn scars can greatly inhibit physical movement.  The emotional pain caused by the scarring creates a different set of limitations on daily functioning.

I suppose it’s the invisible scars that are the easiest for others to forget and the hardest for us to deal with.  Heck, it’s human nature – out of sight, out of mind.  We all do it to some degree.

But that saying about time.  Does it heal all wounds?  No, it doesn’t.  Does the scarring change over time?  Oh, yes.  Just like a physical scar on a leg or arm or stomach or face changes as the skin is replaced year after year, so are our emotional scars changing. 

I’ve heard it said that trials in life can make you better or make you bitter.

Perhaps, it takes a bit of bitter before it gets better.

The Holiday Season is upon us.  Our family and church gather for fall events, Thanksgiving, and Christmas.  ‘tis the official brownie – baking season. The season holds a lot of mixed-up emotions for me.  Wonderful, cherished memories! So many happy memories a book could hardly hold them all.  Heartbreaking memories of loss and struggle. Not as many of these (thankfully!) but they are so very deep.  So, every year I live with this bubbling cauldron of emotions.  Some days I have no idea which will erupt in the bubbles bursting forth.

You know what?  I bet most of us deal with this.  We want to be happy and celebrate all the good things happening around us – even if we have to search hard to find that one happy thing.  We want to rejoice in the goodness of God.  And right smack in the middle of all that desire for joy, bubbles of grief and angst and dread burst into our celebrations.  I pray we all grieve well.  I pray we are able to let the tears flow when necessary, to let a frown rest upon our lips for a while.  I also pray we laugh!  There’s usually something around to laugh at – if only we open our eyes to see it.   

Thank you for reading and sharing some melancholy moments.

Hug those you love.

Hopefully soon I’ll write something a little more upbeat.

#bgwww23

“It can’t be that hard.”

Yeah, right.  Anyone who has done ANY little project around the house knows that it is ALWAYS more difficult or more time-consuming or generally all-around more frustrating than you originally thought it would be.

The list of waiting projects here is a little long.  One little task that hasn’t even made the list lately is to switch the dryer door so that it opens from the other side.

Yes, we knew when we installed the dryer that it was wonky.  You have to step past the door into the corner, open the door, and unload the clothes without really having room to stoop down and get the clothes from the back of the dryer.  These gyrations did not bother me for months, maybe a year or more.  But the last few months ….. every time I opened that door, I got a little more aggravated with the situation.  Did I tell my husband?  No, I did not.  Why didn’t I?  Well, it seemed so trivial compared to some of the other things we want done.

Then, today.  The boys are sick enough to stay home (fevers) but not so sick I need to have an eye on them every second.  And today, I decided I had opened that door in that direction for the last time.  Oh, by the way, hubby is working today.  Yes, on a Saturday.  People in maintenance get to do that on holiday weekends; it comes with the job – rebuilding equipment while everyone else is off work.  But I’ve digressed.

Anyway, how difficult can it be?  Seriously?  The holes are pre-drilled for installation to open from either side of the dryer.  All you need is a Phillips-head screwdriver, and I have that. I have one because it’s mine and I’m mean about it and if anyone borrows MY tools they put them back.  Period.  Even the husband. Ah, I’ve digressed again.

So, I take off the door.  That’s simple  Four little screws.  I remove the tape from the predrilled holes and put it over the holes where the door used to be attached.  I get a kid  to help hold the door in place while I put in the four screws.  I remember to move the latch on the dryer to the other side and use the cover plate to cover that little square hole. Wha-la!  Done!  I start to close the door and it won’t close.  MMMM … what have I done?  OH!  Silly me.  I left one of the screws only partially screwed in.  Fix that.  Door still resists closing past half-way.  Geez, what now?  Well ….. if only I had been as observation as I was tired of which direction the door opened, I would have noticed that in turning the door around so the hinges were on the other side, I also turned it upside down.  Not a problem at all from the front.  Oh, but the inside!  The bottom of the dryer opening is straight.  The top is curved.  And now, the part of the door that goes into the dryer a bit …. The top is flat and the bottom is curved.  Houston, I have a problem.

But everything is MADE to install it easily on either side.  I just have to figure it out. 

And I did.  I turned it this way and that and figured out the door is in two pieces.  In addition to the screwdriver, I needed a table knife to pry the two door pieces apart after removing half a dozen more screws.  Turned the pieces so they were 180 degrees from where they were and screwed them back together.  Then I saw, silly girl, that the latch on the door needed to be moved to the other side.  I used the knife to pop out the two-piece latch and the cover plate on the opposite side of the door.  Put them back where they needed to be. And ….. the door closed just fine.

And the clothes are drying.

Y’all have a nice day, now, ya hear?

#bgwww23

O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name!

Oh how easy it is to sing those words during a quiet morning after a (mostly) restful night’s sleep.

The sunshine is peeping through a light layer of clouds.

Roosters are crowing … one toward the east and one to the southwest.

A bird whose song I should recognize is chirping among the oak boughs.

Dogs bark all around.  Once one starts, they all have to say “Good morning. I’m on duty, too.”

A boy child quietly passes me to play in the “tadpole pond.”

The air …. eh ….. not so great. Nary a breeze to be felt.  Fall pollen and temperatures that didn’t dip close to seventy degress ….. but still this is so much better than it could be.

A truck engine rumbles to life, a prop-driven plane passes overhead, and the day slowly becomes busier and noisier.

When the day gets loud and hectic (and the odds are it will!)  may I take a moment to remember with the psalmist, “Oh Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth.”

#bgwww23

If you’re around a group of Christians very long at all, you’re bound to hear, “My favorite verse is _____________”

 Often the favorite is John 3:16, “For God so loved the world he gave his only begotten son that whosoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.”

Someone who is in the midst of a struggle will often quote Philippians 4:13, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”

Music leaders tend to like Psalm 100:1, “Make a joyful noise unto the Lord.”

My favorite is Lamentations 3:22-23, “The faithful love of the Lord never ends! His mercies never cease.Great is his faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each morning.”  (NLT) Yes, my favorite verse is from a book that is about lamenting – sadness.  However, the verses focus on the goodness of God in spite of the sorrows. 

On the flip side, I don’t know that I have ever heard anyone mention a LEAST favorite verse.  Maybe we have too many we don’t really like to hear (especially when directed at us).  Perhaps we dare not let slip from our lips that words exist in sacred scripture that we don’t like.  Well, if you believe in the Bible and in God, you know he already knows you don’t like it; you might as well fess up.

So …. What is my least favorite verse? The gist of it is that God shows mercy and compassion to whomever he chooses, and that good and bad happen to people who follow him and those who could not care less if he exists or not.  It turns out those are two separate verses.  In Exodus, toward the end of the desert wanderings and very shortly before Moses’ death, Moses asks to see God’s glory.  God says, “I will make all my goodness pass before you and will proclaim before you my name ‘The Lord.’ And I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and will show mercy on whom I will show mercy.” (Exodus 33:19 ESV). Centuries later, during his longest recorded sermon, Jesus tells us to love our enemies (a very familiar verse) and continues with, “he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust.  (Matthew 5:45b ESV)

Why don’t I like these verses?  I blame it on being human. There are some people that I think God should strike with lightening and burn them up.  Sometimes I’ve thought a big rock should fall on some folks and oh so slowly squish the life out of them.  Or maybe that person who hurt my child should slowly rot with a terrible disease. Or the person who talked bad about us should have paralysis of the mouth and spread no more ill will. Somewhere in the midst of my grumbling to God about how these bad people should be treated, he (thankfully oh so gently) reminds me that I have done those things.  Not exactly the same acts, but with the same end result.  I have done things that hurt people.  I have said things that were harmful. And that means that I deserve that same punishment, if I’m to be fair, and don’t we all want more fairness in life?

And then God reminds me of another verse.  It’s sandwiched between a favorite of many people, “Judge not,” and a very funny verse about a plank sticking out of your eye.  Given the times the verse was written, Jesus may have been telling people that to honor God they needed to be fair in their business practices. He may have been telling us, again, to treat people the way we want to be treated, and that includes judgement and mercy.

Judge not, that you be not judged. For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you. Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when there is the log in your own eye?  (Matther 7:1-4 ESV)

#bgwww23