Rest

I like to contribute.  There have been times in my life when I could not.  After surgeries, when I was sick, things like that.  During those times, at least once my Mom would say, "Carol Ann, there is a time to do for others and a time to have done for you.  This is your time to rest."  And she was usually the one to do for me.  One time I received the following article from her:

"Into a Desert Place Apart."  Matt 14:13

     There is no music in a rest, but there is a making of music in it..  In our whole life melody the music is broken off here and there by "rests"  and we foolishly think we have come to the end of the tune.  God sends a time of forced leisure, sickness, disappointed plans, frustrated efforts, and makes a sudden pause in the choral hymn of our lives and we lament that our voices must be silent, and our part is missing in the music that ever goes up to the ear of the Creator.  How does the musician read the "rest?"  See him beat the time with unvarying count, and catch up the next note true and steady, as if no breaking place had come between.
Not without design does God write the music of our lives.  Be it ours to learn the tune and not be dismayed at the "rests."  They are not to be slurred over, not to be omitted, not to destroy the melody, not to change the keynote.  If we look up, God himself will beat the time for us.  With the eye on him, He shall strike the next note full and clear.  If we sadly say to ourselves, "There is no music in a "rest", let us not forget "There is the making of music in it."  The making of music is often a slow and painful process in this life.  How patiently God works to teach us...  How long He waits for us to learn the lesson.    Ruskin

Thanks, Mom.  Sometimes I still need to hear that lesson.

Linda

Today I would like to honor a dear friend and mentor.  Of all the people I have been blessed to know and love, she is one of the best.  I asked her several years ago to be my spiritual mentor.  She is totally committed to God.  I got to know her when we joined Young Life.  She, Ron, her husband, along with the Bowmans invited us, supported us, lead us, taught us... Linda was intentional.  She never threw things together.  When she prepared a devotional for a leaders meeting I felt honored to be there.  She listened intently, when I needed to talk, was humble about advise she gave, prayed believing, and, what I loved most about her, stood for what she felt was right.  There was no back up to Linda. Yet once, during one of our meetings she said something that offended the men.  Especially one who didn't say much.  That week each of the men received a letter of apology for her lack of wisdom.  She just was so intent on standing for good and right.  When YL thought of getting rid of people from our church because we weren't conservative enough she wrote letters, and rallied for us.  Without her we would probably not have been able to continue.  She loved us and she also believed in us.  I trusted her so much.  She was strong, intelligent, a learner.  She was not afraid to stand against  a principle even if she was looked down on.  She told me once that she had 3 sisters.  One was known for her beauty, one for her athletic ability and she was known for her intelligence.  She was not bragging, even kind of apologizing for not being a beauty.  She was intelligent and used her intelligence coupled with her faith and in line with the Holy Spirit to do what was right.  I was in a Bible study in her home for awhile with other Methodist women.  What a treat!  She was so well prepared.  Once she even used a set of tapes by Barbara Higdon on Peace for her study with us.  I loved that she was so open to whatever was valuable regardless of the denomination.  I asked her once why she was so open like that.  She said she guessed she had traveled and seen too much to be any other way.  Linda loved nature, watching her birds, taking care of the earth, hiking, finding joy in life. If someone was hurting she spent much of her valuable time taking in food, visiting, taking them to Dr appointments. I feel like I wish I could write a beautiful tribute to her but I just don't have the words.  I am crying today because I loved her so much.  I am writing like she has died and , in a way, she has.  Maybe about 5 years ago Linda was diagnosed with Alzheimers.  In the past few weeks her disease has progressed to the point that her family is having to put her into a home.  She and her husband have a marriage that is strong and lovely and good.  The kind of relationship where they could say anything to each other, share everything and they loved doing most everything together.  Ron has been amazing with her.  But now her mind is completely gone and he can no longer handle her.  Please join me in praying for this dear family this week.  I hope she can go Home soon and be with the Savior she loved, lived for and would like to be with. I am thankful for the blessing of her in my life and for what she has passed on to me.  I am a better person because of her. 

Mom Reiff

I have not written much about Terry’s Mom.  I called her Mom or Mom Reiff.  She was a strong woman and because I did not know how to be assertive with her I did not accept the fullness of her goodness.  But there were many times when we were very close and I loved her deeply and miss her sometimes so much.  I wish we could talk now and I hope someday we will be able to again.  I have little doubt we will.  There was one time when we were especially close.  When she was about the age I am now, she got cancer.  I’m not sure of it’s name but it was a bad one and it had gone to her lymph nodes.  At the time there was a 50% chance of survival.  She and Dad Reiff had come down to see us in Mississippi as they did at least twice a year.  She had found a lump in her groin and asked Terry to check it out.  She told her she should go to her doctor in Independence where they lived and have it examined there because it was suspicious.  Judy told me it was 7only the second time she had seen her Dad cry.  The other time being when their son Mike was killed in Vietnam.  We were busy with our little family then but they were in our thoughts and prayers often.  When they came to visit she had lost all her hair and wore a wig.  Mom Reiff was not one to speak openly about her faith but she was a woman of great faith.  I sometimes did not recognize that.  Somewhere in my keepsakes I have a testimony she gave at church during that time.  She had been deeply moved by a scripture at church.  It is the familiar one, “They that wait upon the Lord will renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run and not be weary; and they shall walk and not faint.” Isaiah.  I believe God confirmed to her heart that this scripture could be true for her.  I know she clung to it.  During that time I was in a bible study and came upon another scripture, “O rest in the Lord.  Wait, wait patiently for Him and He will give you the desires of your heart. Commit to God all of your goings, and place in God all of your trusting…”  I  wrote both of those scriptures on a board  with a picture of an eagle on it. And gave it to her.  Another woman we knew died during that time of the same kind of cancer.  Terry’s Mom had  a hard struggle.  She fell a lot because of the chemo and how it affected her legs.  She was sick a lot.  But she made it through and she and Dad had many years together after that time.  Many good things happened as a result of her cancer.  She and my Mom got so close.  For awhile my Mom wrote to her every day.  But that’s another story.  I think it’s the true meaning of the scripture that says that all things work for good for those who are called according to His purposes.  I love you Mom .  I’m looking forward to our talk.

I would like to introduce you to our newest addition, Angel.  Angel is a girl golden retriever.  She is smart - already retrieves a ball and is learning to sit.  She is 7 weeks old and was from Jamie and Logan's litter of 11.  She misses her siblings and her mother but I love her today because she slept through the night for the first time last night.  And this morning she whined to go out to do #2.  She is a chewer, biter an most puppies are so we are in constant need of a chew toy.  Some are asking about poor Zip.  Zip is still around and not particularly happy about this new addition.  She does let Angel eat her food if she is finished.  But she does not like her chewing on her ears. Terry is now living in a house of 3 girls.  He is not complaining.  Thank God for the joy of little ones.

Why I love puppies

When have I experienced the Generosity of God?

Oh Lord, as I look around at the harvest of fall I see your generosity: apples, squash, tomatoes, more.  I stand outside at night and wonder about the galaxies and how you made things so beautiful and perfect.  When I see the Sandhill Cranes fly or do their mating dance I smile and am in awe of You.  I wonder how the birds know to fly south and the squirrels know to build nests.  I watch the sunsets and am amazed by Your creativity.  I pick my Sweet Peas and the smell reminds me that you created life in a way that would bring us joy.  Each spring I am delighted by the perennials that surprise me in spite of their consistent return. The shapes in the clouds; the winds and the storms - all a part of your gifts to us.  I could fill a book with all you give so freely.
And even as I am aware of the generosity in creation I undersrand why the Psalmist says, "What is woman that you are mindful of her."
I come to You empty and beg for Your Spirit.  You faithfully fill me.
I ignore you and go about my life as though your existence didn't matter and when I remember to turn back to You, You receive me and bless me.
When my wanderings take me far from feeling You and my life becomes complicated, I come to You and You help me simplify and center.
I say to you, "Lord, I don't feel love for You.  You have become a duty to me. I don't even know how to make Love happen."  That very day You show me how.  You have someone give me a book, just the right one. You slow me down so I have eyes to see and ears to hear Your Love.  Your generosity amazes me.  Your love is better than life, better than all I have come to want or think I need.
In the darkness of the prison I have made for myself, You give light.  When all seems to fall down around me, Your presence makes it all worthwhile. I love You - help me to love you more - no matter what it takes.

listen

I remember a scene in a movie. The woman was looking out her window at the street below. She had just lost a loved one. "Why are people moving so fast?" There is a time, following the death of someone you love, during the time of grief, that is a precious time. It is a time to listen. Not with your ears only but with your whole being. It is a time to walk slower, to be silent, to wait. It is not a time to hurry, to begin new things or hurry into old ones. It is a time when we are open.
It is a time when we hear cries of pain louder; when we are tender toward those who are marginalized, when we cannot bear to see someone hurt or left out. It is a time when we see things more accurately; when we have a heart like the heart of God.
It is a time to listen and be still. It is not a time to push past or stuff down. It is a time to listen to God and to all that God has created. Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.

brothers and sisters

Bitter sweet. Dennis Keith, Susan Jean, Carol Ann, James Dale, Rand Lee, Kenneth Floyd, Kerry Lon, Brian Todd, Diane Marie. I love my siblings. We are all not perfect. But each is such a gift to me. Nothing they could do would stop that love. We get together at funerals. I love them deeply and dearly. Each has their own lives now and I am amazed at what they find to give to our family with the burdens they each carry. They heal me. As we laugh, hug, cry, talk, I am blessed. Thanks, Mom and Dad. They are the best gift you ever gave me.

My siblings

 

Gone

I prayed that I could be with Dad when he died. This summer because of being in Virginia, having grandkids here, reunion, etc., I was not at Dad's as much as usual. My other siblings did so much then. It had, in fact, been 3 weeks since I'd stayed there overnight. The day before he died we came to see Dad. He was so miserable. I can't really explain his eyes but I could tell her was not doing well inside, I mean mentally, emotionally. He had told me a few days before that he had thought it would be his last night but he woke up so... I think he wanted to go but he hated to leave everyone. And he was very tired of life as it was. We had to go take a friend to the hospital that Sunday afternoon. When we came back Dad was very sick. He kept spitting up and sometimes vomiting. I offered to play pinochle with him to take his mind off of it all but when we tried he couldn't hold the cards. I told him to forget that idea and go rest in his chair. He did willingly. He was not walking well, very feeble. He wanted to sleep in his small bed in the living room. He never went back to the hospital bed that was near it. Marlene thinks he didn't want to die in it. He fell immediately asleep but woke up shortly coughing. Each time he fell asleep it was the same. I strongly suggested he sit up in his recliner. Terry came out and suggested Marlene give him some morphine under his tongue. It seemed to help. Dad went to sleep and so did everyone else. Sometimes Terry stayed up with him but T had a bad headache and I wanted to sit in the chair next to Dad. I sat up so I would hear him if he needed me. I fell asleep and slept for a few hours. Maybe around 2:30 his coughing/choking woke me up. It was loud and gurgley. As I turned to him he was very red in the face and seemed to be choking. I ran for Terry and then he said to go get Marlene. We couldn't do much. Dad got over that spell but we all knew something was wrong. He didn't seem coherrant. Yet when we talked about him he said a few things that let us know he knew what we were saying. His color was back to normal and then as we watched he changed. I don't know if you'd call it a coma but he seemed to be gone from us. At first Terry couldn't get a pulse. Then it came back. His face sagged. He began that breathing that Mom did when she died. We all just watched. Marlene stood behind him and patted and rubbed his head and cheeks. I knelt beside him and held his hand and stroked his hairy arm. Terry sat nearby. It was hard for him, knowing he should and could do nothing. I wanted to touch Dad's skin and be with him as long as possible. I consider it a privilege that I was there; that I could stay with him and support him until he was gone. And then he was...gone. I wondered if he was floating out of his body like some people say they do or if he was walking to the light or if he had Jesus' open arms around him. When Mom died I didn't care, I just wanted her back. With Dad, I was so tired of seeing him hurt. And I just wanted him to know, to know that the things he hoped about God were true. Loving, forgiving, welcoming. All my life I have prayed that Dad would let God take over his life. I prayed Dad would be able to receive that Love. I believe there were times when he knew it, like when Gil annointed him in the hospital at Billings or when certain people prayed or spoke words that hit the target of his heart. Early on during this last 6 months Diane called and suggested we pray before Dad went to sleep. If we forgot, he would say, "You haven't prayed with me." He often would cry and tell me how much those prayers meant to him. I believe Heaven is like that...a place where we can feel that peace and joy all the time. I believe Dad is knowing now what he longed for here. "For now we see through a glass darkly, but then face to face." I miss you, Dad. I'm so thankful you are there.

Intimacy interrupted

I was in high school. It was one of those perfect days, 70's, pleasant and sunny. I came home into the quiet of the living room. Mom was lying on our orange couch on her back. Dad was on the floor sitting next to her. They were both smiling. Both were fully clothed, her in a cotton dress. I'm not sure what he wore. What impressed me most was that his hand was resting on her dress over her breast. It was an intimate moment for them but he did not attempt to move his hand. To move at all would have ruined the moment - both for them and for me. I wanted to freeze it. I wanted it to never go away. I was sorry I had interrupted them. For a few moments I felt the peace of the love they shared. That was over 45 years ago and I still treasure that memory.

Roller Coaster

I do not like myself. I am not doing life well. I am impatient, anxious, and lack self control. I cannot focus. Sometimes I'm angry with Dad and the next minute I'm so in love with him that I think I can't bear the tenderness. I'm irrational. Things that meant so much 6 months ago seem worthless to me. People annoy me. I can't talk to people for over a minute without wishing they would disappear. I fake alot. I want to be alone but I am depressed if I'm alone very often. I feel like running and running until I fall exhausted. I have no creative ability. I love to be with my siblings but I only want to be with them and not speak. When I'm away from Dad for very long I'm anxious and need to be back near him. When I'm there I don't care if we talk. I just want to be close. And after awhile the intensity of the love I feel drives me away as surely as it brought me there. When the phone rings I have an anxious moment, wondering if it's about him...he's gone? he's had a spell? I want to drawl up on the bed near him and just hold him. I'm falling off a cliff but I never seem to hit bottom.
the other day I was expressing to a friend how frustrated I was with myself. She said, "Do you have to hit your 3 pointers all the time?" It was a good thing for me to hear. Do I have to be perfect when my Dad is dieing? Do I have to be nice? Do I have to like people? Do I have to be responsible?
I find myself being angry at people who don't understand my grief. I'm mad when people are not sad or compassionate for Dad but it's ok if I feel that way myself.
I feel tired all the time. I feel selfish and self-centered.
The other day someone expressed their amazement that I'm not taking this all in faith. "Don't you know he's going to heaven?" It seems the least of my worries. I felt annoyed that she does not know how hurtful those kind of statements feel.
I'm also annoyed if people try to comfort me. I feel like shoving people away. I'm mad no matter what people do.
When I was little I prayed Dad would never come home. Now I don't know how to feel. I want him here and I want him to die.
Sometimes I feel so connected to his dieing that I feel like when he dies I will die too. In his mortality I am experiencing my own. I sometimes feel like life will never be anything but what it is now. That I will never hold my grandchildren again or climb a mountain and enjoy the view or laugh at a silly book.
I am afraid to write all this because I don't want people to worry but I'm needing so much to express myself and hope someone is listening. Just listening, not judging or fixing or even completely understanding.
Because I've experienced it before I know it's grief and I will get through it. And I know there is a God who is silently watching and crying too. A God who expects nothing from me right now. Who just holds me...

The Very Life of Life

I woke this morning to the feel of your kiss on my cheek when you left for your men's group. I lay still to enjoy it's memory. A part of our routine. The kiss, then you lock the door and leave. I laid there and thought about those kind of habits...packing a lunch and meeting at Dairy Queen at noon during our school years, listening to Paul Harvey New and Comments; walking hand in hand, praying before a meal holding hands around the table; on your shoulder at bedtime, then flipping to a spoon to sleep; the "done" prayer before sleep; reading mail together at lunch; switching positions at the sink as we brush our teeth; leaving you notes;you sending me flowers; reading to you as we drive; greeting you at the door with an 8 second kiss; working together outside; going to church together early to set up, no words, just listening and preparing; watching NCIS; calling the kids; devotions at noon; making the bed together if we're both home; watching the animals; Zip's good night hug under your chin...I don't know who wrote, "Look to this day for it is life, the very life of life."

First Love

I am doing "the Love Dare." Today the message is about unconditional love. I wish every married couple would read it. And live it. I didn't at first. It took Terry to start it. Several years ago he watched one of the videos we ask our couples to read when we work with them in marriage prep. It was on making a decision to honor your spouse. The man in the video said his wife was miserable in their marriage and when he asked her why he said it was because he put everything in his life ahead of her. That video impacted Terry greatly and he made a decision that day to honor me for the rest of our lives. Each day he would ask himself how he could honor me. Obviously he did not remember that every day. It was not easy. At first I didn't realize he was doing it. But soon I began to feel the blessing. And it made me want to respond. It made loving him easy.
Sometimes, when Terry and I will have a spat in public someone will say something like, "Hey, I thought you were the "marriage enrichment people." It surprises me. We do marriage enrichment because, like every couple, we need it. We want our marriage to be good. We work at it every day.
This morning when I was reading the Love Dare I found myself wondering if I would be able to love Terry if he had not made that commitment so long ago. A part of me wanted to find out. But, the very sensible part of me said an almost outloud, "NO!" I love being married to a man who is committed to not only staying married to me but making our relationship special. It is one of the greatest blessings of my life. It challenges me to be better. Thanks Ter. You are truly a man I admire, respect and love.