I imagine I'm going to get some rhetoric about this one. Halloween... the mere mention of that one word can divide people in so many ways. There is the one camp that believes it's a day to honor all sorts of evil and their day to shine. There is another camp that believes if you hide and just ignore it, it will go away. There are other camps that believe it's just a fun day and no harm done. There are some that are on the fence and can't decide what they're going to do or what they should do. And then there is the camp that I belong to - the one that refuses to give one more day to the devil than he already has.
I am not going to light a fire under a cauldron or worship dead people or skin animals alive or even give any mind to the sorts of evils that will merge from their dark holes tomorrow and try to recruit. But then again, I don't do that any day. Why should tomorrow be any different?
Like it or not, Halloween is not going to go anywhere anytime soon. We can either roll with it and use it to our advantage to further the Kingdom or we can stick our tails between our legs and hide. I am not a hider. I am not one to cower away from the darkness of this world. I don't go looking for it but I certainly am not going to run from it if it shows up. I know more about it's existence than most people do because I've studied it. Not because I want to be a part of it, but like any war, I want to understand my enemy so that I can come up with the best strategy to fight. And mark my words, we are in a war. We are in a war for souls, young and old.
Ok, here's where I'm really going to hear about it but here goes. I actually like Halloween. I like the fun side of it. I like to see the kids out and about and coming to my door. Some years I even dress up. I've been a myriad of things from Tweety bird, to a tube of toothpaste, to a pumpkin, to a clown, to a puppy dog, to Elvis, you get the picture. Does that make me a sliding saint? Perhaps in the pious opinions of some. I know my heart and God knows my heart and quite frankly, that's all that matters to me. I've been there as there have been connections made with children and adults alike because of a costume I was wearing. I've seen God use it to touch a troubled soul.
I've looked into the eyes of an abused child and shown them kindness and love as they've stood on my porch steps. I've gone to hospitals dressed up and gotten permission to go room to room to brighten somebody's day. Have you ever seen the look on somebody's face when you come into a room dressed as Tweety bird saying "I tawt I saw a puddy tat... did you see my puddy tat?" I've seen the look of confusion turn to a smile and a despondent, depressed person suddenly feel better. Is that the work of satan? I think not.
There are some that argue that it's disrespectful to God to have a sense of humor and a heart of compassion all at the same time. Are the horrendous things that happen to people, especially little children, something to laugh at? Absolutely not. But can God's love shine through and touch someplace inside of them and bring a smile into some of the most desperate situations? - you betcha! I hate to break this to you but Jesus actually had a sense of humor Himself and if we're to be like Jesus, well then by golly I want to embrace that side too. Here's just one example... Remember the story of the blind man that came to Him wanting to see? Jesus picked up some dirt, spit in it and put it on his eyes. Now do you honestly believe that there was some power in the dirt? Was it the spit that did it? No, it only took the word from Jesus to make it so. The rest of it, if you think about it, was really kind of funny.
I am not going to get into Theological debates with anyone on this or any other topic, because I admittedly am not as educated in that area as I would like to be. I'm still learning and will continue to as long as there is breath in me. Tomorrow is Halloween and even though I'm sure I won't have near the people coming to my door as in years past (because we're in the country) I will not hide away and ignore anyone who happens to ring my bell. I will open the door wide, smile and find some kind word to say to them so that Jesus' light can shine through the darkness and hopefully touch a still hidden place in their hearts.
So pardon me if I feel like looking like a pumpkin, or Elvis, or whatever, or nothing at all. I will stand straight and I will stand tall and I will stand up to the enemy who is trying to steal our kids and I will say "get thee behind me satan." I refuse to let him have any more power over me or anyone I come in contact with than he already has. Not tomorrow - not any day. Is there a dark side to Halloween - without hesitation I acknowledge that yes, there is. But I know there is light to be brought in and shone in the darkness and I will carry THAT torch tomorrow as much as I do every day.
I like Halloween. The more the enemy tries to come out of hiding, the more Jesus' light can shine on it and cause it to cower. The more the enemy shows his slippery hands, the more information I can garner and prepare for the battle. We all know there are spirits of darkness roaming around our cities and towns. If tomorrow draws them out of hiding - wonderful. We'll know where they are and be able to pray accordingly. Don't fool yourselves. They're all around us and amongst us. I ask you to stand with me - stand tall and do not hide away tomorrow or any day. Put on your armor (now there's a costume for ya) and be ready to withstand the onslaught. It's gonna happen... are you going to look away and pretend it's not coming? Are you going to hide in your homes with the lights off and let the enemy get a hold of one more child? I don't intend to.
Lord, use me to touch somebody, somehow tomorrow and every day that I am alive. May Your light shine through and even if only one person is touched and given that glimmer of hope that they too are loved by You, then I will take all the verbal and critical abuse of the saints that come my way. You know my heart so let's get this party started.
If I've offended you, I'm sorry. If I've riled you up - fantastic! The more riled up against the enemy we get the more ground we can gain for the Kingdom. I do not celebrate, nor have I ever celebrated, the dark side of Halloween, but I have embraced the "light" side and I've seen God move and I'm not about to stop witnessing it now. Oh yeah, Happy Halloween! ; )
Friday, October 30, 2009
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Learning to Receive
I was born with a servants heart. I am a giver by nature. I truly would think nothing of giving someone my very last cent, believing that they need it more than I do. God has always come through for me... not that it's always been easy. But the hardest thing for me to learn has been how to receive. Not that people haven't been there for me and not that God hasn't used people in my life in a number of ways through the years. It's just when it comes to receiving, I'm not very good at it.
I am always taken aback when someone says or does something nice - for me. I'm the kind usually looking over my shoulder to see who they're talking to if they pay me a compliment. I'm still learning how to just say "thank-you" without that complete look of wonderment on my face and sometimes I just can't even pull that off. God's been working on that with me especially in current times. Have you ever had one of those times when He brings something from your past up into your present situation and uses it to illustrate how stubborn and prideful you really can be? That's happened to me very recently. Let me share....
As most of you know, we're in a bit of a pickle. We moved to Tennessee last January and moved into our dream house. It's a lovely ranch that was newly built and truly seemed to have been built just for us. Our things fit in here perfectly and we didn't have to do one thing except move in (and sign a bunch of papers, of course.) Then at the end of July our perfect dream world began to show cracks. Our beloved dog, Igloo, was hit and killed by a car along with our neighbors dog, Sadie. I cried and cried. Somehow the excitement of living our dream just didn't quite seem the same, except that the people from our lives really stepped up to console and comfort us.
We had people from our church willing to make us meals, which at the time I thought really odd - it wasn't like Igloo was our main cook - and while I appreciated the offers, I declined them. We were fine, just a bit broken-hearted. I poured my heart out in my blogs on Facebook and Myspace and had friends from all over touching my heart with their kind words. It was a bit ironic how one year ago, when I needed people, all I had was my dog. And now when I lost my dog, I had all kinds of people there for me. The difference wasn't in the people, the difference was in me.
That difference was that I was able and willing to share what was going on in my life. Before I was always thinking that I didn't want to burden others and have the yucky things going on in my life touch theirs. If they had giving hearts, well, I figured there were always people more needy of their attentions and efforts than me. It was just easier for me to deal with it than have to deal with it AND worry about what others were thinking.
Recently Oliver lost his job. I put that out there as well. It came as a shock and we really don't know what the future holds for us. We're taking things one day at a time. There is the "old" part of me that wants to put up walls and retreat into my own little world until the storm passes and withdraw from people and life in general. Then there is the "newer" me that can put it all out there in a blog. It's a daily, sometimes hourly, struggle to keep those walls from going back up.
A week ago I got a call from an old friend from high school. We had been in the same youth group at church, seemingly back in the day when the Bible was still on stone tablets. We're talking almost 35 years since we last spoke. It really touched my heart that he and his wife called to offer encouragement and prayers. Funny thing is that when I first went to request them as friends on Facebook, I wasn't sure they would even remember who I was. Seems silly in hindsight but that's honestly what I felt. It was my own fault that we fell out of touch. My mom had died the day I graduated from high school in January, 1974, and most of my friends weren't graduating until June or some until the following year.
All of a sudden my world had changed. I was a young 17 year old all on my own, with my own apartment and the very grown-up responsibilities of life and handling my mothers estate. My friends were still in high school, worrying about what to wear on Saturday night and where to go after the prom. How could I touch them with the realities of my world?
As I talked with my friend a week ago, I was not only surprised that they remembered me, but that they remembered so many of the details from 35 years ago. I was surprised to learn that they always thought that I was "cool" because I had my own apartment. They were surprised to hear that I didn't abandon them because I thought I was "cool" but that I didn't want to burden their worlds. God showed me that although they couldn't have change one single circumstance of what I was going through, they could have been for me then as they are now - offering encouragement and prayers. Huh. Never even thought of that.
Today we were invited to a dear friends house for dinner after church and as per usual, I asked what I should bring... "nothing" was the reply and for the first time ever, it was ok with me. See? I am learning. Funny thing is that for all my life whenever I have invited someone over, I have never expected them to bring anything and yet because of the "way I had been brought up" I couldn't begin to think of going somewhere empty-handed. God has been showing me the double-standard by which I had been living.
At church, another lady came up and dropped something in my purse "to bless us with" and I graciously said thank-you - admittedly caught off guard and a bit puzzled. Yet God reminded me of how many times I had slipped little somethings in peoples pockets or purses through the years or had a special treat for someone on their porch. Sad to say, but I'm just now, at 53 years old, learning that without people to receive, then giving wouldn't be so special and that by refusing the gift, nice comment, a meal, whatever "it" may be... that you are actually refusing to let the giver receive their blessing from God.
Those that have been there for us - now and in the past - are going to be receiving blessings from God that I couldn't even begin to repay. It's all His to give anyway. He has used me in the past to be the giver and now He's showing me that there is no room for false humility in refusing to receive. It's been a humbling experience to say the least. I'm still learning how to not act so completely surprised that people think about us enough - because God has put us on their hearts - to even care about us. That's going to take a little more time.
We know He has a plan for us and we know that He will supply our every need, no matter what season of life we are in. We know that as sure as we breathe. And we thank-Him that He is teaching us how to receive in our hearts the love He has for us when He uses people to bless us in so many ways. We will not be down forever... When we are back on our feet, we will be continuing to give - that's how we were created to be - but next time it will be with a new understanding of the person on the receiving end.
May the blessings of God continue to pass from hand to hand, around from person to person, on this awesome planet we call earth. Oh yeah, and thanks God for allowing me to continue to learn something "new" everyday, even if it's something you've been trying to teach me my whole life.
Now excuse me while I go sweep up the dust from some of the bricks that have been falling from my walls. Thank-you and God Bless you...
I am always taken aback when someone says or does something nice - for me. I'm the kind usually looking over my shoulder to see who they're talking to if they pay me a compliment. I'm still learning how to just say "thank-you" without that complete look of wonderment on my face and sometimes I just can't even pull that off. God's been working on that with me especially in current times. Have you ever had one of those times when He brings something from your past up into your present situation and uses it to illustrate how stubborn and prideful you really can be? That's happened to me very recently. Let me share....
As most of you know, we're in a bit of a pickle. We moved to Tennessee last January and moved into our dream house. It's a lovely ranch that was newly built and truly seemed to have been built just for us. Our things fit in here perfectly and we didn't have to do one thing except move in (and sign a bunch of papers, of course.) Then at the end of July our perfect dream world began to show cracks. Our beloved dog, Igloo, was hit and killed by a car along with our neighbors dog, Sadie. I cried and cried. Somehow the excitement of living our dream just didn't quite seem the same, except that the people from our lives really stepped up to console and comfort us.
We had people from our church willing to make us meals, which at the time I thought really odd - it wasn't like Igloo was our main cook - and while I appreciated the offers, I declined them. We were fine, just a bit broken-hearted. I poured my heart out in my blogs on Facebook and Myspace and had friends from all over touching my heart with their kind words. It was a bit ironic how one year ago, when I needed people, all I had was my dog. And now when I lost my dog, I had all kinds of people there for me. The difference wasn't in the people, the difference was in me.
That difference was that I was able and willing to share what was going on in my life. Before I was always thinking that I didn't want to burden others and have the yucky things going on in my life touch theirs. If they had giving hearts, well, I figured there were always people more needy of their attentions and efforts than me. It was just easier for me to deal with it than have to deal with it AND worry about what others were thinking.
Recently Oliver lost his job. I put that out there as well. It came as a shock and we really don't know what the future holds for us. We're taking things one day at a time. There is the "old" part of me that wants to put up walls and retreat into my own little world until the storm passes and withdraw from people and life in general. Then there is the "newer" me that can put it all out there in a blog. It's a daily, sometimes hourly, struggle to keep those walls from going back up.
A week ago I got a call from an old friend from high school. We had been in the same youth group at church, seemingly back in the day when the Bible was still on stone tablets. We're talking almost 35 years since we last spoke. It really touched my heart that he and his wife called to offer encouragement and prayers. Funny thing is that when I first went to request them as friends on Facebook, I wasn't sure they would even remember who I was. Seems silly in hindsight but that's honestly what I felt. It was my own fault that we fell out of touch. My mom had died the day I graduated from high school in January, 1974, and most of my friends weren't graduating until June or some until the following year.
All of a sudden my world had changed. I was a young 17 year old all on my own, with my own apartment and the very grown-up responsibilities of life and handling my mothers estate. My friends were still in high school, worrying about what to wear on Saturday night and where to go after the prom. How could I touch them with the realities of my world?
As I talked with my friend a week ago, I was not only surprised that they remembered me, but that they remembered so many of the details from 35 years ago. I was surprised to learn that they always thought that I was "cool" because I had my own apartment. They were surprised to hear that I didn't abandon them because I thought I was "cool" but that I didn't want to burden their worlds. God showed me that although they couldn't have change one single circumstance of what I was going through, they could have been for me then as they are now - offering encouragement and prayers. Huh. Never even thought of that.
Today we were invited to a dear friends house for dinner after church and as per usual, I asked what I should bring... "nothing" was the reply and for the first time ever, it was ok with me. See? I am learning. Funny thing is that for all my life whenever I have invited someone over, I have never expected them to bring anything and yet because of the "way I had been brought up" I couldn't begin to think of going somewhere empty-handed. God has been showing me the double-standard by which I had been living.
At church, another lady came up and dropped something in my purse "to bless us with" and I graciously said thank-you - admittedly caught off guard and a bit puzzled. Yet God reminded me of how many times I had slipped little somethings in peoples pockets or purses through the years or had a special treat for someone on their porch. Sad to say, but I'm just now, at 53 years old, learning that without people to receive, then giving wouldn't be so special and that by refusing the gift, nice comment, a meal, whatever "it" may be... that you are actually refusing to let the giver receive their blessing from God.
Those that have been there for us - now and in the past - are going to be receiving blessings from God that I couldn't even begin to repay. It's all His to give anyway. He has used me in the past to be the giver and now He's showing me that there is no room for false humility in refusing to receive. It's been a humbling experience to say the least. I'm still learning how to not act so completely surprised that people think about us enough - because God has put us on their hearts - to even care about us. That's going to take a little more time.
We know He has a plan for us and we know that He will supply our every need, no matter what season of life we are in. We know that as sure as we breathe. And we thank-Him that He is teaching us how to receive in our hearts the love He has for us when He uses people to bless us in so many ways. We will not be down forever... When we are back on our feet, we will be continuing to give - that's how we were created to be - but next time it will be with a new understanding of the person on the receiving end.
May the blessings of God continue to pass from hand to hand, around from person to person, on this awesome planet we call earth. Oh yeah, and thanks God for allowing me to continue to learn something "new" everyday, even if it's something you've been trying to teach me my whole life.
Now excuse me while I go sweep up the dust from some of the bricks that have been falling from my walls. Thank-you and God Bless you...
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Times have changed....
We all know that times are changing. There's no doubt about it. Today was a reminder to me at just how much things in my life have changed through the years. Oh, it has nothing to do with the economic conditions, the president in the White House or even some theological rantings from a political puppet. Nope, it hits closer to home for me....
Today, while I was doing the mundane, but relaxing, duty of watering my plants outside, I heard gunshots fairly close by and didn't even flinch. Not one eyelash fluttered. I just went on about my business. We do live out in the country after all and we can hear guns go off for any number of reasons, but mostly during hunting seasons. Don't think we're in an active one right now, but you never know around here. Gunshot sounds are commonplace.
A few minutes later, a small plane flew overhead and quite frankly made me jump and I dropped the hose. A small plane. I had to chuckle. I grew up a mere few blocks from O'Hare International Airport where we would hear on a consistent basis all kinds of planes and jets. I may not have known what a bush hawg was when I moved to Tennessee (I do now) but I could tell you whether it was a Boeing 727 or 747 taking off and on which runway, which type of fighter jet was on maneuvers or whether it was a Piper or Cessna coming in for a landing, back in the day. Most kids would count sheep to try to go to sleep... we could count planes and they were really there.
I've only been down here less than 8 months. A lot has changed for me. Just 8 months ago, it would have been the gunshots that would have stricken fear in my heart and sent me running for cover. Certainly not the sound of some little plane flying overhead. We don't get many plane in these parts. I think this is only the 2nd, maybe 3rd, time I've even heard one since I've been here. A far cry from the constant sound near O'Hare and Midway airports. As a matter of fact, we don't even hear the constant drone of traffic. Oh occassionally, like maybe once a week or so if the wind is blowing just right, we might actually hear one of the trucks go by on the road about a mile down.
Nope, the drone sound we hear these days are the tree frogs and when the weather was cooler in the spring, the sound of mockingbirds and their mating calls. We hear birds on the loose and every once in a while, I'll hear the two little boys playing outside with their dad at the next house over, but that's only if I'm out in the yard.
We live in a town where the police chief was turned down for the funding to get a part time officer because our crime rate is too low. Quite the change from the town we lived in where a retired police sergeant is in jail for killing his third wife and suspected of killing his fourth. I even had to chuckle last week when the youth leaders at church were freaking out because one of the boys brought in a ring snake, a tiny little thing, in a box to show everyone. It actually was kinda cute so you can imagine how unintimidating it had to be for this Chicago girl to be in the same room with it. I think I have bracelets bigger than he was. Far cry from the youth groups up there where we had to be concerned with guns and knives being brought in.
Yep, things are changing.... and not one bit of it is due to any stimulus packages or political rhetoric coming out of Washington. It's been by the grace of God that we are where we are and we couldn't be happier with these changes. Life is slower, people are more laid back (ok, that takes some getting used to) and priorities in lives are family, friends and loved ones. We love this land and the people in it. A long way, baby, from the streets of the Bronx where Oliver spent his hey day and the streets of suburban Chicago that once held my dreams and aspirations. Quiet, tranquility, peace that has no words. Yep, times have changed... Thank-You Jesus!
We all know that times are changing. There's no doubt about it. Today was a reminder to me at just how much things in my life have changed through the years. Oh, it has nothing to do with the economic conditions, the president in the White House or even some theological rantings from a political puppet. Nope, it hits closer to home for me....
Today, while I was doing the mundane, but relaxing, duty of watering my plants outside, I heard gunshots fairly close by and didn't even flinch. Not one eyelash fluttered. I just went on about my business. We do live out in the country after all and we can hear guns go off for any number of reasons, but mostly during hunting seasons. Don't think we're in an active one right now, but you never know around here. Gunshot sounds are commonplace.
A few minutes later, a small plane flew overhead and quite frankly made me jump and I dropped the hose. A small plane. I had to chuckle. I grew up a mere few blocks from O'Hare International Airport where we would hear on a consistent basis all kinds of planes and jets. I may not have known what a bush hawg was when I moved to Tennessee (I do now) but I could tell you whether it was a Boeing 727 or 747 taking off and on which runway, which type of fighter jet was on maneuvers or whether it was a Piper or Cessna coming in for a landing, back in the day. Most kids would count sheep to try to go to sleep... we could count planes and they were really there.
I've only been down here less than 8 months. A lot has changed for me. Just 8 months ago, it would have been the gunshots that would have stricken fear in my heart and sent me running for cover. Certainly not the sound of some little plane flying overhead. We don't get many plane in these parts. I think this is only the 2nd, maybe 3rd, time I've even heard one since I've been here. A far cry from the constant sound near O'Hare and Midway airports. As a matter of fact, we don't even hear the constant drone of traffic. Oh occassionally, like maybe once a week or so if the wind is blowing just right, we might actually hear one of the trucks go by on the road about a mile down.
Nope, the drone sound we hear these days are the tree frogs and when the weather was cooler in the spring, the sound of mockingbirds and their mating calls. We hear birds on the loose and every once in a while, I'll hear the two little boys playing outside with their dad at the next house over, but that's only if I'm out in the yard.
We live in a town where the police chief was turned down for the funding to get a part time officer because our crime rate is too low. Quite the change from the town we lived in where a retired police sergeant is in jail for killing his third wife and suspected of killing his fourth. I even had to chuckle last week when the youth leaders at church were freaking out because one of the boys brought in a ring snake, a tiny little thing, in a box to show everyone. It actually was kinda cute so you can imagine how unintimidating it had to be for this Chicago girl to be in the same room with it. I think I have bracelets bigger than he was. Far cry from the youth groups up there where we had to be concerned with guns and knives being brought in.
Yep, things are changing.... and not one bit of it is due to any stimulus packages or political rhetoric coming out of Washington. It's been by the grace of God that we are where we are and we couldn't be happier with these changes. Life is slower, people are more laid back (ok, that takes some getting used to) and priorities in lives are family, friends and loved ones. We love this land and the people in it. A long way, baby, from the streets of the Bronx where Oliver spent his hey day and the streets of suburban Chicago that once held my dreams and aspirations. Quiet, tranquility, peace that has no words. Yep, times have changed... Thank-You Jesus!
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Yellow Butterflies
Most of you know that I lost my precious puppy, Igloo, just one month ago. It has been heartbreaking to say the least. But in the midst of the pain there have been bright moments. The day after he died, I was devastated and just going through the motions of life. I managed to water my plants outside and really not a whole lot more. I could not bear the thought of the plants dying too. While I was out there doing that chore, the cutest little yellow butterfly flitted by and made me smile through my tear streaked eyes. Following close behind, came a second, much smaller yellow butterfly. As I watched the two play in flight, I was reminded of how Igloo and Sadie used to play just like that. It was almost eerie but in their play, I did find some comfort.
For weeks now whenever I seem to get a bit overwhelmed and am really missing Igloo, I can look out the window and sure enough there would be the butterfly. Sometimes the smaller one is there, but most times it's just the bigger one. Occasionally he'll land on the screen and it seems like he's smiling at me. Oh I know what you're thinking... it's the meds... or grab the straight jacket. Trust me I thought that too, at first, but it has happened all too often. One day last week a friend stopped by and we were outside talking and the yellow butterfly came up on him, just like Igloo would have, to check him out. I didn't say anything, but I certainly noticed.
Yesterday I was mowing the jungle and it was hard. I had to mow right by the little area we have set up where Igloo and Sadie are buried. I admit, the tears started burning my eyes and then out of nowhere, the butterfly appeared and stayed around me the whole time I was out there, bobbing and weaving around me like he wanted to play. At one point I looked across the field between our house and our neighbors, the same field that we would see Sadie come bounding across and sure enough, here came the second little butterfly. Even I had to laugh.
It was just like old times only they were in the air and not in the line of fire of the lawnmower. There was a time when the heat, the tears and the emotions got to be a bit too much and I had to stop the mower in the middle of the yard. By this time it was just the one butterfly again and he came and sat on the steering wheel right in front of me. We just sat there staring at each other and I can't explain it but I felt this sense of calm. This sense that it was alright... not perfect, but alright.
I can go out on the porch and "talk" to Igloo and sure enough that butterfly will come out of nowhere. I think it has a mission, a mission to help me through. And I gotta say that it's doing its mission quite well. I still cry and my heart still hurts, but each day I move forward and each day I find a reason to smile and laugh. I know it sounds weird but just as Igloo helped me through before, I'm finding a little yellow butterfly and his friend helping me now.
As I look back through some of the deaths of people that I have had in my life, I have found that there have always been butterflies that have appeared in times of need. My sister-in-law last year, my best friend a couple of years ago, my aunt, my mother - although those didn't show up until spring but I didn't cry for her until then, so many more.... Not all have been yellow, some have been purple and even a bright lapis blue that was gorgeous. Coincidental? To my rational mind, yes. But somewhere in the depths of my spirit, I feel they are more than that. I am inspired by their freedom, entranced by their beauty and compelled to watch them and find a smile from somewhere deep inside me that I didn't think I would ever find again.
They say that God shows Himself in some simple ways... I believe He shows me that things are ok through butterflies. And I thank-Him for it. I miss my puppy terribly and it is still so very hard but I can see the beauty in life again and I owe that to the butterflies. One day I'll leave this life and I'll soar like an eagle into parts unknown and I pray that God will send butterflies to those who will miss me the most to remind them that I'm soaring and free. No more pain, no more meds, no more fears, no more tears, the struggles of this earth left behind. I'm a fighter and I have too many things yet to accomplish here but when my call comes, forgive me if I leave you for awhile and take my flight. Trust that God will help you through 'til we meet again on the other side of glory. In the meantime, you'll find me outside talking to a couple of yellow butterflies like a looney old woman. And that suits me just fine for now.
For weeks now whenever I seem to get a bit overwhelmed and am really missing Igloo, I can look out the window and sure enough there would be the butterfly. Sometimes the smaller one is there, but most times it's just the bigger one. Occasionally he'll land on the screen and it seems like he's smiling at me. Oh I know what you're thinking... it's the meds... or grab the straight jacket. Trust me I thought that too, at first, but it has happened all too often. One day last week a friend stopped by and we were outside talking and the yellow butterfly came up on him, just like Igloo would have, to check him out. I didn't say anything, but I certainly noticed.
Yesterday I was mowing the jungle and it was hard. I had to mow right by the little area we have set up where Igloo and Sadie are buried. I admit, the tears started burning my eyes and then out of nowhere, the butterfly appeared and stayed around me the whole time I was out there, bobbing and weaving around me like he wanted to play. At one point I looked across the field between our house and our neighbors, the same field that we would see Sadie come bounding across and sure enough, here came the second little butterfly. Even I had to laugh.
It was just like old times only they were in the air and not in the line of fire of the lawnmower. There was a time when the heat, the tears and the emotions got to be a bit too much and I had to stop the mower in the middle of the yard. By this time it was just the one butterfly again and he came and sat on the steering wheel right in front of me. We just sat there staring at each other and I can't explain it but I felt this sense of calm. This sense that it was alright... not perfect, but alright.
I can go out on the porch and "talk" to Igloo and sure enough that butterfly will come out of nowhere. I think it has a mission, a mission to help me through. And I gotta say that it's doing its mission quite well. I still cry and my heart still hurts, but each day I move forward and each day I find a reason to smile and laugh. I know it sounds weird but just as Igloo helped me through before, I'm finding a little yellow butterfly and his friend helping me now.
As I look back through some of the deaths of people that I have had in my life, I have found that there have always been butterflies that have appeared in times of need. My sister-in-law last year, my best friend a couple of years ago, my aunt, my mother - although those didn't show up until spring but I didn't cry for her until then, so many more.... Not all have been yellow, some have been purple and even a bright lapis blue that was gorgeous. Coincidental? To my rational mind, yes. But somewhere in the depths of my spirit, I feel they are more than that. I am inspired by their freedom, entranced by their beauty and compelled to watch them and find a smile from somewhere deep inside me that I didn't think I would ever find again.
They say that God shows Himself in some simple ways... I believe He shows me that things are ok through butterflies. And I thank-Him for it. I miss my puppy terribly and it is still so very hard but I can see the beauty in life again and I owe that to the butterflies. One day I'll leave this life and I'll soar like an eagle into parts unknown and I pray that God will send butterflies to those who will miss me the most to remind them that I'm soaring and free. No more pain, no more meds, no more fears, no more tears, the struggles of this earth left behind. I'm a fighter and I have too many things yet to accomplish here but when my call comes, forgive me if I leave you for awhile and take my flight. Trust that God will help you through 'til we meet again on the other side of glory. In the meantime, you'll find me outside talking to a couple of yellow butterflies like a looney old woman. And that suits me just fine for now.
Friday, August 21, 2009
McDonalds and a Braille Menu
It started out innocently enough. It was a nice, warm day in Chicagoland. The kind of day where people are out walking their dogs and milling about. The kind of day that just doesn't happen often enough in that part of the country. I had been at the church helping out with a conference and the pastors wife asked if I could take their kids to McDonalds and home until she was finished. No problem. Something I had done many times before. I love those kids and for reasons not clear to anyone else, they love me.
So I went and got them and we began our journey across town to McDonalds to get them their feast for the night. As we were driving along, we began people watching and were starting to have fun making up personalities and converstations to go with the people we were passing. It put us in a giggly frame of mind for sure. At one point we passed a blind man walking down the sidewalk with his red-tipped cane. We all drew quiet for a moment until we all remembered a sermon that a comedian had given at the church a couple of weeks prior. One of his "jokes" involved McDonalds and being able to ask for a Braille menu at the drive-thru. Hmmmm.
Ok, so I admit it, the kid in me came out and we decided to check out the sermons facts and see if it is true that you can ask for a Braille menu at the drive-thru. Since it was still a bit sunny out, I had my dark sunglasses on. They're really dark because the light hurts my eyes when I'm driving. We all figured that we'd just get a quick laugh and maybe an amusing look on the face of the worker and that would be it. None of us were ready for what transpired.
As it became our turn to pull up, I started lurching the car towards the window, um, perhaps a bit erratically for dramatic flair. Ryan, the oldest, was "directing" me from the back seat as to when to go and when to stop. Eric, the youngest, was by his side in the back playing his part to the hilt - like he was scared out of his wits. Renee, the middle child, was bravely up front with me. We finally got to the window (it was a slow night, no other customers behind us) and looking straight ahead, I asked THE question... "May I 'see' the Braille menu, please?" Without a second thought, the worker said "Sure, hold on a moment and we'll get it for you." "Thank-you"
She whispered to another worker who went off to find one, I assume. In the meantime, the kids were really starting to play this whole blind lady driving the kids around thing up. Renee blurted out something about a really pretty red car that passed by on the street when suddenly she "remembered" that I couldn't see it and began to tell me in great detail about the car. "Oh, Mrs. Peg, you'd love it if you could see it." Just like any other everday kind of conversation that you'd have while waiting. I gotta admit these kids were good. It was hard for me to keep a straight face but hey, we'd come this far, no backing down now.
The worker was listening to our conversations about things I couldn't see and by now had figured out that I was the one needing the Braille menu... or so she thought. Finally they produced said menu and I gotta tell you these workers had gotten some awesome ADA training. They were wonderful. Anyway, I get the menu and of course, I'm running my fingers over the little bumps and wondering in my head how awesome this tool really is. Eric pipes up from the back seat "Mrs. Peg, is the Happy Meal on there?" I get to one point on the Braille menu and tell him that yes indeed, it's on there. We handed back the menu and placed our order and thought that that was the end of it... Oh no... it gets better.
As I go to pay for it, I had Renee dig the money out of my purse and I just stuck my hand out the window, of course just a tad bit out of the reach of the worker. She didn't say a word. The kids all started directing me on which way to move my hands so that the worker could take the money. This took a while because I just kept missing her hand "by that much". Getting the change back wasn't any easier but mercifully neither of us dropped a dime. Then, Ryan in an animated, swinging his arms like he's directing traffic kind of way, "helped" me get to the next window. Lurch by winding lurch. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw two workers heads poking out - watching us make our way, painstakingly, to the next window.... not a smile on their faces. That's when the lightbulb clicked on in my brain... they weren't seeing this as a joke. Hmmm.
When we got to the next window, the assistant manager was there handing us our food and drinks. I played the same "missed it by that much" game with her until finally all the bags were passed over. I just kept handing them off to the kids because we weren't going to eat anything until we got back to their house anyway. Well, like most McDonalds drive-thrus, there was a turn at the end. With Ryan directing the way, we lurched out of there as we came in and finally, slowly, lurchingly, made the turn. As we were lurching along, I saw in the rearview mirror no less than six heads poking out of both windows watching us.
I managed to keep a straight face, as did the kids, until we made that turn and got out of their line of sight. Then I had to pull over because we all busted up laughing. I was laughing so hard, I thought for sure I was going to pee in my pants. I finally managed to compose myself after a few minutes and we drove home. Of course, we discussed it all the way there and it had been mentioned that we were surprised that none of them called the police, concerned that there was a blind woman driving with three kids in the car.
Once we got home and started rationing out the food, we quickly realized that we got way more food than we had ordered... like over $7 more in food. There were extra fries, nuggets and even flurries. The kids were thrilled. I felt guilty. Being that I didn't want to hustle them back into the car and make the trek back to McDonalds, I figured I'd just go in the next day and pay for the items that we got erroneously, and just enjoy the rest of the night with the kids. I gotta tell you, they were very good actors. Not that I was really surprised but they held the characters through the whole ordeal without so much as even smirking, which helped me do the same. We had a great night. It was a night I will always hold dear in my heart. Not that we didn't have a whole lot of other times that we had a ton of fun, but this one was super special.
The next day I went to McDonalds to speak with the manager and to pay for the extra food. I had a list of all the things we got "extra." I started to explain the situation to her and at first she thought I was complaining about the way that they handled me being blind. Um, I wasn't wearing my sunglasses at the time or even acting blind, but in hindsight, I could see where she got that idea - sort of. Anyway, I told her the whole story and assured her that her employees handled the situation with the utmost respect for the disability, that I really didn't have by the way. She wouldn't take my money. Once it sunk in that the whole thing was a joke based on a sermon, she finally saw the light and started laughing. She said that it made her day and was worth the $7 and something. Guess she had been having a few rough days of complaints in a row and that's why she thought at first that she was dealing with yet another one. I kept trying to pay but she just wouldn't take it. I did feel good that it made her day and that she was starting this new day out smiling and not frustrated from complaints. Go God!
So then I went on to work at the conference that was continuing at the church. Turns out that the conference speaker, Dr. Henry Malone, was staying at the pastors house and of course, heard the whole story from the kids before they went to bed. As we were gathered around the table for a leaders luncheon that he invited me to, he brought up the subject and had me share what had transpired. Reluctantly I did, but most people got a good chuckle out of it. Henry sure did, even more so than when the kids had told him I guess.
Someone in the group made the comment that I was teaching the pastors kids how to lie. Ouch! Never thought of it that way. Certainly wasn't my heart. I made sure that later on I did explain to the kids that I wasn't condoning lying under any circumstances, etc. Even apologized to the pastor, who incidently, did not take it that way. He knew my heart would never be to teach those kids, or any kids, anything of the sort. It was just a memory-making good time. A time that the kids and I will still bring up now and then and smile, even though two of them are out of school and the youngest is in high school... a drama student by the way and a very good one at that. No surprise on my part. The other two are using their God-given talents in serving the Kingdom as well.
I sit here and I smile when I think back on that memory. A simple "joke" in a sermon, carried out in real day life. A memory-maker for sure. I have a storehouse of memories of similar experiences of laughter and fun with many other people locked away in the recesses of my mind and each day I want to add to their numbers. Every day I wake up and I ask God, how are WE going to laugh today? What everyday thing are you going to let me see in a way that will bring a smile to my face and little happy flutter to my heart? And He does not disappoint. Try it. Ask Him to do the same for you and He will. Look for those memory-makers and take advantage of them.
Ryan, Renee and Eric, you all know that I love you with all of my heart. I look at the wonderful young adults that you have grown up to be and my heart fills with pride and happiness that I got to know you and have quality time with you through the years. Keep on laughing, keep on working for God's Kingdom advancement, and know that Mrs. Peg will be here for you always. I miss you but I know that one day we'll meet again and we'll sit down to eat and laugh at a memory that I, for one, will hold dear forever.
Go out and laugh today. Let God bring a smile to your face and if at all possible, bring one out on someone else's. It's rewarding, it's fun, it's memory-making, and it's a wonderful feeling. It's Kingdom-advancing. Um, just don't torture the local McDonalds... they really do have Braille menus at the drive-thru, trust me... let God show you a memory-maker of your own. Have a blessed day!
So I went and got them and we began our journey across town to McDonalds to get them their feast for the night. As we were driving along, we began people watching and were starting to have fun making up personalities and converstations to go with the people we were passing. It put us in a giggly frame of mind for sure. At one point we passed a blind man walking down the sidewalk with his red-tipped cane. We all drew quiet for a moment until we all remembered a sermon that a comedian had given at the church a couple of weeks prior. One of his "jokes" involved McDonalds and being able to ask for a Braille menu at the drive-thru. Hmmmm.
Ok, so I admit it, the kid in me came out and we decided to check out the sermons facts and see if it is true that you can ask for a Braille menu at the drive-thru. Since it was still a bit sunny out, I had my dark sunglasses on. They're really dark because the light hurts my eyes when I'm driving. We all figured that we'd just get a quick laugh and maybe an amusing look on the face of the worker and that would be it. None of us were ready for what transpired.
As it became our turn to pull up, I started lurching the car towards the window, um, perhaps a bit erratically for dramatic flair. Ryan, the oldest, was "directing" me from the back seat as to when to go and when to stop. Eric, the youngest, was by his side in the back playing his part to the hilt - like he was scared out of his wits. Renee, the middle child, was bravely up front with me. We finally got to the window (it was a slow night, no other customers behind us) and looking straight ahead, I asked THE question... "May I 'see' the Braille menu, please?" Without a second thought, the worker said "Sure, hold on a moment and we'll get it for you." "Thank-you"
She whispered to another worker who went off to find one, I assume. In the meantime, the kids were really starting to play this whole blind lady driving the kids around thing up. Renee blurted out something about a really pretty red car that passed by on the street when suddenly she "remembered" that I couldn't see it and began to tell me in great detail about the car. "Oh, Mrs. Peg, you'd love it if you could see it." Just like any other everday kind of conversation that you'd have while waiting. I gotta admit these kids were good. It was hard for me to keep a straight face but hey, we'd come this far, no backing down now.
The worker was listening to our conversations about things I couldn't see and by now had figured out that I was the one needing the Braille menu... or so she thought. Finally they produced said menu and I gotta tell you these workers had gotten some awesome ADA training. They were wonderful. Anyway, I get the menu and of course, I'm running my fingers over the little bumps and wondering in my head how awesome this tool really is. Eric pipes up from the back seat "Mrs. Peg, is the Happy Meal on there?" I get to one point on the Braille menu and tell him that yes indeed, it's on there. We handed back the menu and placed our order and thought that that was the end of it... Oh no... it gets better.
As I go to pay for it, I had Renee dig the money out of my purse and I just stuck my hand out the window, of course just a tad bit out of the reach of the worker. She didn't say a word. The kids all started directing me on which way to move my hands so that the worker could take the money. This took a while because I just kept missing her hand "by that much". Getting the change back wasn't any easier but mercifully neither of us dropped a dime. Then, Ryan in an animated, swinging his arms like he's directing traffic kind of way, "helped" me get to the next window. Lurch by winding lurch. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw two workers heads poking out - watching us make our way, painstakingly, to the next window.... not a smile on their faces. That's when the lightbulb clicked on in my brain... they weren't seeing this as a joke. Hmmm.
When we got to the next window, the assistant manager was there handing us our food and drinks. I played the same "missed it by that much" game with her until finally all the bags were passed over. I just kept handing them off to the kids because we weren't going to eat anything until we got back to their house anyway. Well, like most McDonalds drive-thrus, there was a turn at the end. With Ryan directing the way, we lurched out of there as we came in and finally, slowly, lurchingly, made the turn. As we were lurching along, I saw in the rearview mirror no less than six heads poking out of both windows watching us.
I managed to keep a straight face, as did the kids, until we made that turn and got out of their line of sight. Then I had to pull over because we all busted up laughing. I was laughing so hard, I thought for sure I was going to pee in my pants. I finally managed to compose myself after a few minutes and we drove home. Of course, we discussed it all the way there and it had been mentioned that we were surprised that none of them called the police, concerned that there was a blind woman driving with three kids in the car.
Once we got home and started rationing out the food, we quickly realized that we got way more food than we had ordered... like over $7 more in food. There were extra fries, nuggets and even flurries. The kids were thrilled. I felt guilty. Being that I didn't want to hustle them back into the car and make the trek back to McDonalds, I figured I'd just go in the next day and pay for the items that we got erroneously, and just enjoy the rest of the night with the kids. I gotta tell you, they were very good actors. Not that I was really surprised but they held the characters through the whole ordeal without so much as even smirking, which helped me do the same. We had a great night. It was a night I will always hold dear in my heart. Not that we didn't have a whole lot of other times that we had a ton of fun, but this one was super special.
The next day I went to McDonalds to speak with the manager and to pay for the extra food. I had a list of all the things we got "extra." I started to explain the situation to her and at first she thought I was complaining about the way that they handled me being blind. Um, I wasn't wearing my sunglasses at the time or even acting blind, but in hindsight, I could see where she got that idea - sort of. Anyway, I told her the whole story and assured her that her employees handled the situation with the utmost respect for the disability, that I really didn't have by the way. She wouldn't take my money. Once it sunk in that the whole thing was a joke based on a sermon, she finally saw the light and started laughing. She said that it made her day and was worth the $7 and something. Guess she had been having a few rough days of complaints in a row and that's why she thought at first that she was dealing with yet another one. I kept trying to pay but she just wouldn't take it. I did feel good that it made her day and that she was starting this new day out smiling and not frustrated from complaints. Go God!
So then I went on to work at the conference that was continuing at the church. Turns out that the conference speaker, Dr. Henry Malone, was staying at the pastors house and of course, heard the whole story from the kids before they went to bed. As we were gathered around the table for a leaders luncheon that he invited me to, he brought up the subject and had me share what had transpired. Reluctantly I did, but most people got a good chuckle out of it. Henry sure did, even more so than when the kids had told him I guess.
Someone in the group made the comment that I was teaching the pastors kids how to lie. Ouch! Never thought of it that way. Certainly wasn't my heart. I made sure that later on I did explain to the kids that I wasn't condoning lying under any circumstances, etc. Even apologized to the pastor, who incidently, did not take it that way. He knew my heart would never be to teach those kids, or any kids, anything of the sort. It was just a memory-making good time. A time that the kids and I will still bring up now and then and smile, even though two of them are out of school and the youngest is in high school... a drama student by the way and a very good one at that. No surprise on my part. The other two are using their God-given talents in serving the Kingdom as well.
I sit here and I smile when I think back on that memory. A simple "joke" in a sermon, carried out in real day life. A memory-maker for sure. I have a storehouse of memories of similar experiences of laughter and fun with many other people locked away in the recesses of my mind and each day I want to add to their numbers. Every day I wake up and I ask God, how are WE going to laugh today? What everyday thing are you going to let me see in a way that will bring a smile to my face and little happy flutter to my heart? And He does not disappoint. Try it. Ask Him to do the same for you and He will. Look for those memory-makers and take advantage of them.
Ryan, Renee and Eric, you all know that I love you with all of my heart. I look at the wonderful young adults that you have grown up to be and my heart fills with pride and happiness that I got to know you and have quality time with you through the years. Keep on laughing, keep on working for God's Kingdom advancement, and know that Mrs. Peg will be here for you always. I miss you but I know that one day we'll meet again and we'll sit down to eat and laugh at a memory that I, for one, will hold dear forever.
Go out and laugh today. Let God bring a smile to your face and if at all possible, bring one out on someone else's. It's rewarding, it's fun, it's memory-making, and it's a wonderful feeling. It's Kingdom-advancing. Um, just don't torture the local McDonalds... they really do have Braille menus at the drive-thru, trust me... let God show you a memory-maker of your own. Have a blessed day!
Sunday, August 16, 2009
The Winds of Change
Ah, the winds of change. They whirl and twirl all around us every day. Some days we notice, some days we don't. Some days we see them coming and other days they sneak up on us unexpectedly. But they're always blowing.
Today was hard and exciting, all in the same breath. We sent out into the world a lovely young couple with two darling children to go to China for a year where they will be teaching and ministering. We also sent four of our youth, including the pastors oldest daughter, to Oklahoma City for a yearlong internship. Others will be going to college. Still more will be leaving soon in service to our country. Some have had to say last good-byes to people they have held dear and others never had a chance to say good-bye and yet will see their loved one no more.
Sometimes it's just moving on and moving forward, sometimes it's leaving people behind. Sometimes it's both. It can be exciting and it can be scary. It can be peaceful and it can be overwhelming. Change. No matter how hard or tight you try to hold on to something, it will change. You will change, they will change, circumstances will change or all of the above.
We only have what is right now. We need to embrace it and love the moment but be willing and able to let go when the time comes. It's part of this thing we call the circle of life. As a parent it's hard to let your child go into uncharted territory and yet we find in doing so that we look at our own parents through a slightly different lens than when we made that trek in our own lives. There's an old saying - "let go and let God." Ah, much easier said than done.
But when it comes down to it, it's all a matter of either we trust Him - or we don't. It's as simple and as complicated as that. Change is going to come. If it hasn't hit you today, it will soon. Good change, bad change, it doesn't matter what shape or form the change takes... what matters is trusting the One who is the author and finisher of our faith and our life changes. I'm an emotional person. I am not a big fan of change... I've seen a lot of it in my life, but the one thing that does not change for me is my trust in Him. Tho the winds of change blow around me, still I will praise Him and trust Him.
Are the winds of change blowing around you? Grab the anchor that will get you through any storm that these winds of change might kick up at you. It's ok to visit the emotions, the pain - the excitement, the sorrow, the joy and everything in between - it's even healthy to do so, just don't stay there. Let Him bring you through. Be still and know, really know, that He is God and you will come through - stronger and hopefully wiser.
I wish them all well. My heart hurts a bit more because I will miss them, as I do so many others that have touched my life, but I trust that God will take care of them and there's always Facebook to keep them close. Blessings to my friends who are leaving and moving on to new and exciting possibilities and ((hugs)) to those you left behind. We're all in these winds of change together - in good times and in bad. Thank God.
"So, what do you want for dinner?" "I dunno..." uh oh, here we go again... I guess SOME things never change... lol. Have a good one. Love ya!
Today was hard and exciting, all in the same breath. We sent out into the world a lovely young couple with two darling children to go to China for a year where they will be teaching and ministering. We also sent four of our youth, including the pastors oldest daughter, to Oklahoma City for a yearlong internship. Others will be going to college. Still more will be leaving soon in service to our country. Some have had to say last good-byes to people they have held dear and others never had a chance to say good-bye and yet will see their loved one no more.
Sometimes it's just moving on and moving forward, sometimes it's leaving people behind. Sometimes it's both. It can be exciting and it can be scary. It can be peaceful and it can be overwhelming. Change. No matter how hard or tight you try to hold on to something, it will change. You will change, they will change, circumstances will change or all of the above.
We only have what is right now. We need to embrace it and love the moment but be willing and able to let go when the time comes. It's part of this thing we call the circle of life. As a parent it's hard to let your child go into uncharted territory and yet we find in doing so that we look at our own parents through a slightly different lens than when we made that trek in our own lives. There's an old saying - "let go and let God." Ah, much easier said than done.
But when it comes down to it, it's all a matter of either we trust Him - or we don't. It's as simple and as complicated as that. Change is going to come. If it hasn't hit you today, it will soon. Good change, bad change, it doesn't matter what shape or form the change takes... what matters is trusting the One who is the author and finisher of our faith and our life changes. I'm an emotional person. I am not a big fan of change... I've seen a lot of it in my life, but the one thing that does not change for me is my trust in Him. Tho the winds of change blow around me, still I will praise Him and trust Him.
Are the winds of change blowing around you? Grab the anchor that will get you through any storm that these winds of change might kick up at you. It's ok to visit the emotions, the pain - the excitement, the sorrow, the joy and everything in between - it's even healthy to do so, just don't stay there. Let Him bring you through. Be still and know, really know, that He is God and you will come through - stronger and hopefully wiser.
I wish them all well. My heart hurts a bit more because I will miss them, as I do so many others that have touched my life, but I trust that God will take care of them and there's always Facebook to keep them close. Blessings to my friends who are leaving and moving on to new and exciting possibilities and ((hugs)) to those you left behind. We're all in these winds of change together - in good times and in bad. Thank God.
"So, what do you want for dinner?" "I dunno..." uh oh, here we go again... I guess SOME things never change... lol. Have a good one. Love ya!
Monday, August 3, 2009
I just don't understand
Why is "normal and happy" such an unattainable place for me? All my life that's all I've ever wanted and every time I get some little bit of happiness, something happens to take the joy right out of it. It's been a pattern that I have not been able to break since the day I was born.
Of course, you all know that most recently the pain is from losing my dear, sweet Igloo. He was my everything. He was by my side, or more appropriately in my face, pretty much on a constant basis. The only times he wasn't when was he was sleeping, eating, or in Olivers face. The three of us did everything together. We'd go for rides in the car just to check out this beautiful area that we've moved to, with Igloo barking hello to everyone he saw. We'd play in the yard and of course, in every area of the house. Everywhere are memories of good times with Igloo. He was a lifesource for us, a bright shining beacon of hope in a sometimes scary world.
Every day we thanked God for our blessings and for the first time in my life, I can honestly say that I wasn't looking for "the other shoe to drop." I basked in the glow of a full heart and complete and utter happiness despite the physical challenges that I face. I had hope. In an instant, in a twisted act of fate, a true accident, all of that changed. And with that change, I not only am feeling the pain of losing him, but also wondering why it is that I can never have more than a fleeting moment of true happiness. Even the big moments in my life have been tainted by angst and pain.
My first field trip in school. I was so looking forward to going to the dairy farm up in Northern Illinois. We had talked about it for weeks and the anticipation was almost too much to bear for me. I was so excited. Instead I spent that day in the hospital getting my tonsils out. Of course, not only that day but quite a few more because my throat wasn't healing like it should and I kept spitting up blood. So much for the first field trip. Graduating from high school. Should have been a happy day and one filled with excitement and anticipation of a bright future. Mine was shadowed by the death of my mother that very afternoon and filled with funerals and estates and bills. I had prayed so hard that she live 'til my graduation day. It meant so much to her that I was graduating. She did. God answered that prayer to a "t". Then I've spent the next 35 years beating myself up because I didn't ask for more time with her, for a longer life for her, for complete healing, etc.
Getting married. My father, rest his soul, couldn't be bothered to even come, let alone give me away. Can't tell you the roller coaster ride that relationship was in my life up until the day he died. Fortunately we were able to hash most of it out in those months before his death, so that helped. It really wasn't personal. It had more to do with the bitter divorce between him and my mother. Still it hurt me.
The birth of my son. I get the flu a few days before going into labor and I'm deathly ill when the labor starts. We get to the hospital, in the middle of a snowstorm no less, where I spend the next couple of days in labor, watching mothers come in, give birth and go home with their babies. All the while, I'm in labor. Finally they take me in for a c-section and still I can't be happy. There were complications with the surgery and my body went haywire, so I spent the next month in the hospital, clinging to life by a thread. I didn't even get to hold my son until he was a month old. Kinda sucked the joy out of that moment.
That same son, who is now 29, isn't talking to me and I'm not even sure why. That seems to add to the pain. He knows how much Igloo meant to me, and his dad, and not even a phone call or an email. We know he knows, Kim has emailed me. But that is another pain that weighs heavy on my heart. I pray for him and pray that God shows him that we are his parents who love him and have sacrificed for him all our lives. I continue to do so today. I'm going through all the stuff at Vanderbilt that I am, not for my life - but for his and for Eli's. My mom was my age when she died, under similar symptoms and if there is some way to find out why and stop it, then I'm pursuing it so that Dan and Eli can stay ahead of it. Him not caring really hurts too.
I have not one, but two brothers that have ridden off into the sunset of their lives and I have no idea where either of them are. My oldest brother has been missing for almost 40 years and to this day I do not know whether he is alive or dead. My younger brother chose to walk away and not look back. Neither had an offense towards me personally, but that doesn't mean their choices haven't effected me or caused me pain.
I've lost many friends that have died under sometimes long illness circumstances and sometimes in the blink of an eye, unexpectedly. I know all too well how our days are so precious and that none of us are promised tomorrow. I've seen it firsthand way too many times in my life. That's part of why I try to live each day to the fullest, enjoying each small, quiet, "normal" moment that I can. I try to never take anything for granted.
Some of the other stories, I've mentioned in other blogs. My life has been peppered with major life experiences out-shadowing the moments in my life that should be "normal and happy." I just can't seem to get a break. And yet each day I wake up thinking that surely this time things will work out because in the end of all the stories, good outweighs evil. Right?
Igloo was my prince in white fur. For a short time I actually got to experience the unconditional love and pure joy that he brought to my life. And I will be forever grateful for those times. I don't need to wonder if he knew he was loved - he did. We showered him every day with our love and affection. That's part of what makes this so hard. There will be no more opportunities to do that. I look around the house and all I see are glimpses in my mind of what was and what will be no more. I go outside and see the same. I go for a drive, and the streets that made me smile and feel so at peace less than one week ago, tug at my heart and cause me to cry. We know he loved us - more than anything, except maybe Sadie. Still it hurts and the tears keep flowing.
I am grateful for the friends who have understood and I really do understand the thoughts of those who don't. My life is not lacking for love at all. It's not that. It's an old turmoil that unfortunately has been churned up too often in my life. Is it a curse? Shouldn't be, I've gone through every thing I can to break any curses that might have been placed. Am I running from it and bottling it up so that I don't have to deal with it? Hardly. I'm feeling it with every fiber of my being and trying so hard to see what it is in the lesson that I'm missing.
Oh I've been through this enough to know not to say I will never smile again or find a reason to laugh. I know I will - it's part of who I am. I laugh hard when I'm happy and cry hard when I'm sad. I feel. Some say I'm oversensitive and they're probably right. But I would rather be that than not feel at all. As long as I'm feeling, be it pain or joy, I know I'm still alive. I know that there is still love in my heart and that despite my best efforts to wall it off, someway, somehow, someone or something will sneak behind the walls and capture it. They always do. But I have to admit that few get to that place easily.
Every day I see people treating each other badly and I want to go up and shake them sometimes and tell them not to do it. To tell them that it's moments like this that will replay in their minds over and over again when there are no more moments with that person in their lives. I want to ask them "if this were the last day of your life, is this how you would like to be remembered? And if this were the last day in the other person's life, is this the moment you want to remember?"
I know I am not unique in experiencing the things that I have. Not by a longshot. And I know that there are people who have experienced things far more horrific than I ever will, or at least I hope not to. I know the pain I'm in now and the tears that I'm shedding are not going to last forever. I know that one day these memories that cause me to cry so hard now will bring a smile of peace and remembrance to my heart. I know that somewhere amidst this dark cloud, the sun still shines and life will go on.
I just want to ride out the rest of my life "normal and happy" but I just can't seem to. I thought I was going to. I know there's some reaon to all of this that I just don't understand... I KNOW all that in my head, but I just don't understand why I can't get my heart to.
Of course, you all know that most recently the pain is from losing my dear, sweet Igloo. He was my everything. He was by my side, or more appropriately in my face, pretty much on a constant basis. The only times he wasn't when was he was sleeping, eating, or in Olivers face. The three of us did everything together. We'd go for rides in the car just to check out this beautiful area that we've moved to, with Igloo barking hello to everyone he saw. We'd play in the yard and of course, in every area of the house. Everywhere are memories of good times with Igloo. He was a lifesource for us, a bright shining beacon of hope in a sometimes scary world.
Every day we thanked God for our blessings and for the first time in my life, I can honestly say that I wasn't looking for "the other shoe to drop." I basked in the glow of a full heart and complete and utter happiness despite the physical challenges that I face. I had hope. In an instant, in a twisted act of fate, a true accident, all of that changed. And with that change, I not only am feeling the pain of losing him, but also wondering why it is that I can never have more than a fleeting moment of true happiness. Even the big moments in my life have been tainted by angst and pain.
My first field trip in school. I was so looking forward to going to the dairy farm up in Northern Illinois. We had talked about it for weeks and the anticipation was almost too much to bear for me. I was so excited. Instead I spent that day in the hospital getting my tonsils out. Of course, not only that day but quite a few more because my throat wasn't healing like it should and I kept spitting up blood. So much for the first field trip. Graduating from high school. Should have been a happy day and one filled with excitement and anticipation of a bright future. Mine was shadowed by the death of my mother that very afternoon and filled with funerals and estates and bills. I had prayed so hard that she live 'til my graduation day. It meant so much to her that I was graduating. She did. God answered that prayer to a "t". Then I've spent the next 35 years beating myself up because I didn't ask for more time with her, for a longer life for her, for complete healing, etc.
Getting married. My father, rest his soul, couldn't be bothered to even come, let alone give me away. Can't tell you the roller coaster ride that relationship was in my life up until the day he died. Fortunately we were able to hash most of it out in those months before his death, so that helped. It really wasn't personal. It had more to do with the bitter divorce between him and my mother. Still it hurt me.
The birth of my son. I get the flu a few days before going into labor and I'm deathly ill when the labor starts. We get to the hospital, in the middle of a snowstorm no less, where I spend the next couple of days in labor, watching mothers come in, give birth and go home with their babies. All the while, I'm in labor. Finally they take me in for a c-section and still I can't be happy. There were complications with the surgery and my body went haywire, so I spent the next month in the hospital, clinging to life by a thread. I didn't even get to hold my son until he was a month old. Kinda sucked the joy out of that moment.
That same son, who is now 29, isn't talking to me and I'm not even sure why. That seems to add to the pain. He knows how much Igloo meant to me, and his dad, and not even a phone call or an email. We know he knows, Kim has emailed me. But that is another pain that weighs heavy on my heart. I pray for him and pray that God shows him that we are his parents who love him and have sacrificed for him all our lives. I continue to do so today. I'm going through all the stuff at Vanderbilt that I am, not for my life - but for his and for Eli's. My mom was my age when she died, under similar symptoms and if there is some way to find out why and stop it, then I'm pursuing it so that Dan and Eli can stay ahead of it. Him not caring really hurts too.
I have not one, but two brothers that have ridden off into the sunset of their lives and I have no idea where either of them are. My oldest brother has been missing for almost 40 years and to this day I do not know whether he is alive or dead. My younger brother chose to walk away and not look back. Neither had an offense towards me personally, but that doesn't mean their choices haven't effected me or caused me pain.
I've lost many friends that have died under sometimes long illness circumstances and sometimes in the blink of an eye, unexpectedly. I know all too well how our days are so precious and that none of us are promised tomorrow. I've seen it firsthand way too many times in my life. That's part of why I try to live each day to the fullest, enjoying each small, quiet, "normal" moment that I can. I try to never take anything for granted.
Some of the other stories, I've mentioned in other blogs. My life has been peppered with major life experiences out-shadowing the moments in my life that should be "normal and happy." I just can't seem to get a break. And yet each day I wake up thinking that surely this time things will work out because in the end of all the stories, good outweighs evil. Right?
Igloo was my prince in white fur. For a short time I actually got to experience the unconditional love and pure joy that he brought to my life. And I will be forever grateful for those times. I don't need to wonder if he knew he was loved - he did. We showered him every day with our love and affection. That's part of what makes this so hard. There will be no more opportunities to do that. I look around the house and all I see are glimpses in my mind of what was and what will be no more. I go outside and see the same. I go for a drive, and the streets that made me smile and feel so at peace less than one week ago, tug at my heart and cause me to cry. We know he loved us - more than anything, except maybe Sadie. Still it hurts and the tears keep flowing.
I am grateful for the friends who have understood and I really do understand the thoughts of those who don't. My life is not lacking for love at all. It's not that. It's an old turmoil that unfortunately has been churned up too often in my life. Is it a curse? Shouldn't be, I've gone through every thing I can to break any curses that might have been placed. Am I running from it and bottling it up so that I don't have to deal with it? Hardly. I'm feeling it with every fiber of my being and trying so hard to see what it is in the lesson that I'm missing.
Oh I've been through this enough to know not to say I will never smile again or find a reason to laugh. I know I will - it's part of who I am. I laugh hard when I'm happy and cry hard when I'm sad. I feel. Some say I'm oversensitive and they're probably right. But I would rather be that than not feel at all. As long as I'm feeling, be it pain or joy, I know I'm still alive. I know that there is still love in my heart and that despite my best efforts to wall it off, someway, somehow, someone or something will sneak behind the walls and capture it. They always do. But I have to admit that few get to that place easily.
Every day I see people treating each other badly and I want to go up and shake them sometimes and tell them not to do it. To tell them that it's moments like this that will replay in their minds over and over again when there are no more moments with that person in their lives. I want to ask them "if this were the last day of your life, is this how you would like to be remembered? And if this were the last day in the other person's life, is this the moment you want to remember?"
I know I am not unique in experiencing the things that I have. Not by a longshot. And I know that there are people who have experienced things far more horrific than I ever will, or at least I hope not to. I know the pain I'm in now and the tears that I'm shedding are not going to last forever. I know that one day these memories that cause me to cry so hard now will bring a smile of peace and remembrance to my heart. I know that somewhere amidst this dark cloud, the sun still shines and life will go on.
I just want to ride out the rest of my life "normal and happy" but I just can't seem to. I thought I was going to. I know there's some reaon to all of this that I just don't understand... I KNOW all that in my head, but I just don't understand why I can't get my heart to.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)