Now, What Did You Say Your Name Was?

It was a beautiful day. Bright, sunshiny.  Even the slight humidity didn't bother me.  I hopped on my lawn mower.  It is my happy place.  I know I've talked about it before.  I'm going to be like the guy in "You've Got Mail" who keeps writing columns about his typewriter . . . But its one of the few places where I can be sitting and accomplishing something at the same time.  Its a place where I can send my thoughts and prayers heavenward. 

Its funny.  I thought I knew what I was going to be thinking about during my quiet time. Yes, even the sound of an engine can be less invasive to my thoughts than my four children and husband!  I was going to tweek the schedules I'd made out for me and the kids, think about my classes, the kids new classes, my painting projects, the adorable photo boards I'd planned on making with the kids this very afternoon.  But . . . someone showed up.  Someone I hadn't seen for a little while .. . or at least like this . . . .  And plans changed.  

You see, I've been thinking about Grief for some time now almost like a person.  I know its not, REALLY.  But it sorta shows up like that. Like a companion.  I kind of want to give it at least a capital for the first letter of its name. This might sound funny, but I wasn't expecting it to look like this today.  I have come to understand a little something about Grief.  I never thought a year ago I would have any perspective at all.  And now, I don't know,  I'm no expert, by any means.  I just have some experience, you know?  Anyway, like I was saying, I've learned something about Grief.  I don't think its something that ever goes away.  I think it just looks different.  It changes faces.  And it looks different on different people.  Grief can be felt on the sunniest of days.  And it can express itself even in a smile and a happy recollection.  Grief can be in laughter and enjoyment of holding sweet pictures (or scrolling through them as we do these days.)  Its just there.  Dressed differently today than yesterday.  Grief can be bold and strong, giving you all the more reason to fight for the next.  It can be tired, very, very tired.  

And today, it showed up very much dressed just the way I'd first encountered it.  It took me.  It really shook me.  I mowed and mowed and mowed.  I cried.  The tears streamed and the sun beat on my face.  And I don't know exactly what it was that moved me.  I don't know what makes today so different than yesterday.  I can't forecast what tomorrow is going to look like based on today.  That's just the way it is.  And that's just the way its going to be.  

A good friend recently described to me that its like learning to live with the person you've lost in the "sidelines of your mind."  This said it well for me.  My own experience is that I can continue to be productive.  I can think, I can focus.  I have laughed. I have been sad and frustrated over other things.  You may think it is an exaggeration for me to say that I don't know if there has been a second that Pam has been out of my mind.  But I don't think it is.  I'm trying to think.  It doesn't mean I'm always sad.  Grief doesn't always look like today.  It doesn't always hit me in the stomach and double me over.  But it is always there. Pam is always there.  And I wonder how long it is going to be like that.  And I wonder if I even want it to ever change.  

So I can mow the grass for twice as long as needed, because I need to, and think about Pam.  And then I can put the mower and my thoughts in "park" and take the kids to the movie, "Planes," like I did today.  But I can't help wondering if she'd sneaked a Heath Bar into the theatre the last time she went.  Heaths were one of her favorite candy.  And I guess that's just how it is and how its going to be.  "So, this is what you look like today, huh?  And what did you say your name was?  Grief.  Yes, I recognize you now."

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted

    and saves those who are crushed in spirit. Psalm 34:18

Where Do You Want the Couch?

God has given me some very good gifts these past couple weeks.  I've been thinking about funny stories of Pam.  (I like the funny ones especially). So . . . I've been trying to write them down.  I remember when we were new to the school (Valley Christian School).  We were new to everything as we had just moved from Minneapolis to here in April 2004. The school was the first place we made friends.  And Pam was my first friend.  Like I said, we were new to the school and the house.  We didn't even have a lot of furniture.  It was pretty sparse.  But I was happy because we were getting a couch and chair for what we now affectionately call, "the piano room."  I really don't know how this topic came up one morning as she and I scooted Emily and Michaela off into Ms. Wilson's class, but somewhere between the pre-school room and the front doors, exchanging details about what the next seven hours of our day might look like until we met again at 3:00 she learned that I planned on re-scheduling our furniture delivery because it conflicted with Elisa's or Isaac's well check-ups. I know I keep repeating this, but I didn't know her well yet.  I had just met her.  But then she (like I would soon find out was her way) had a solution to the problem.  "I can come wait at your house for the couch while you take the kids to the doctor."  I must have been thinking, "Um.  Okay.  Could you repeat that?  People don't just offer to do things like that for people they just meet."  I really can't remember more of the conversation, but . . . . . somehow, Pam ended up at my house, I believe in my front door for the first time.  I set her up.  I probably made her coffee.  I don't know.  But I was off to the doctor's with my kiddos.  In retrospect, had I known her better I would have sent her to the doctor's with the kids and I would have stayed and waited for the couches!  She would have done it . . . I'm sure.  Well, anyway . . . I was just down on my hands and knees washing the floor around that couch and thought of it.  It made me smile . . . and cry a little . . . mostly smile  . . . and she was pregnant too, with Paige.  And she had Logan.  He must have been so little.  I wonder if he just played in the living room while she waited?  So, the end of the story is that I came home and my couch and chair had been delivered and Pam was on her way back to Canneday Court.  I love that couch.  Pam and I have had a lot of coffee and conversations on it since that very "weird day."  :)  I sure miss her a lot.  And life is sure different now.  But I still love her.  And just thought some of you wouldn't mind a story.  I hope it makes you smile too.  

If You Want to See the Kingdom . . . Spend It All.

 A few weeks ago our senior pastor, Gary Russell, began a series on the Beatitudes.  As soon as I heard, "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven" my heart quieted and I kind of said to myself, "hmm, there's treasure here."  I've read the Beatitudes many times and often pondered over that first one.  I'm sure there are many who have unraveled this long before me, but when something comes alive to me for the first time I just get very excited.  And since I'm pondering this again this morning, I thought I'd just ponder right here, in a note.

     He talked about the deficit we all have without Christ, and how we are born poor and in need of him.  I loved that.  I thought about that and recognized the truth in it.  But something was also was stirring in myself. What is that?  When you hear a message, but God has a treasure in there for you in that moment?"  Pam had just been talking about that . . . . What did she call it?  That girl had been digging into the Hebrew and Greek . . . goodness . . . . she found something . . . . wish I had written it down . . . 

     Well, as I sat there listening, I just kind of told God, "I'm spent.  I'm not discouraged.  I'm not without hope.  I've seen you move and I expect to still see great things, but I am empty again.  I realize all you've given me in these last few months . . . but I've spent it all . . . . "

     And that's when I heard him kind of tell me, that its okay. He wants to fill us back up again, but sometimes it requires our emptying, or using up every last drop of what he has given us for this day.  And then he will give us more.  And not an equal amount, but twice, three times, even ten times what we had before.  In other words, spend yourself spiritually . . . live from paycheck to paycheck because we might be poor, but he is rich and willing to reward those who steward all he gives, all he teaches, and all he reveals.  So hope more, believe more, have a little more faith, even in disappointment.  

     I have seen his kingdom come, demonstrated in loving kindness and power.  But my heart's desire is to see more.  When you get the chance to see someone encounter His love you really do become poor over and over again in the sense that you recognize His profound goodness and many times your own inadequacy.  I am void until He gives me more of himself for this day.  Looking back at these past several months, I can recall so many times that I have witnessed his power, in Pam, but also in others.  People are being delivered from depression, and others oppression, marriages are being restored . . .  "Father, I've seen your heart.  There's so much more you want to do.  But so much is required, perhaps more than I have . . . so give me more of yourself.  Tell me, talk to me, teach me, position me.  What I have is not enough.  What is required is all you you.  So that's what we want." 

     I guess I'd just like to add the verses that brought me back to these thoughts this morning.  They were in Psalm 34 where previously I had made verse 18 my home for the week, "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit."  But I read the whole chapter again and settled on verses 4-6 and thought about how there is no shame in being at the end of yourself and telling Him that you need more of him for this day.  In fact, that is what might be required.  Set pride aside and be destitute for a minute. I don't have have it all together, but I have his Word.  

      "I sought the Lord, and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears.  Those who look to him are radiant; their faces are never covered with shame.  This poor man called, and the Lord heard him . . . . "   And you can call too.