I’m not grieving

A couple of weeks ago, Dad died. I am not grieving. I haven’t cried yet over his death and I doubt that I will. 

When I was growing up, Dad was a hard drinker. All the grieving I should do now at his death was done then. I grieved when he was home, and I grieved when he was coming home. I gauged my grieving by how hard his truck engine ran as he barreled down the dusty county road after he turned off the highway. I could hear the truck two miles away and knew that if the truck was racing, he was furious.  I didn’t know what he would be furious about, I just knew that when he pulled into the yard, all hell would break loose. I would either have to hide behind something or get out of the house as the torrent of foul language and yelling rained down on Mom, when she was home.

But she wasn’t home a lot. Mom had to work. She didn’t want to, she had to. She was a registered nurse so her days or evenings were spent at the nursing home taking care of the elderly and trying to keep the lazy nurses aides on task. 

If Mom had not worked, we would not have eaten, so it was a done deal.  I was left alone in our far too small trailer house most days in the country with only a cousin to call on the phone or hang out with. But she was the youngest of five and her family was functional. She had family. I had me.

My grieve not only included living with Dad, but it included living without a Mom to do things with. If I were to tell her this now, she would double over in sorrow and false guilt because she too grieves that she could not be a Mom at home. She carries a mountain of memories and anger that all wives of alcoholics carry and not being able to be home for her children is one of them. 

Sixteen months ago Dad was placed on home hospice care. He was not expected to live half a year, but he beat the odds and lived three times that long. Heart problems and kidney problems were to blame. 

For 16 months, Mom nursed him, made sure he had all his medications, went everywhere with him, and stayed always at home with him. A year ago my husband and I moved back next door into the house I built there years ago. We came back to do the same, to take care of Dad and to take care of the caregiver. 

When Mom was sick in the hospital this summer, someone had to be there for Dad so I nursed him, made sure he had all his medications, bandaged his rotting legs, and stayed close by when I wasn’t at the hospital with her. 

My husband took over cutting all Dad’s firewood so that Dad could maintain the stove in the basement. Earl became a favorite coffee companion and someone to shoot the breeze with while sitting by the stove. Stoking the stove and drinking coffee with us and close friends were Dad’s last pastimes.

While living next door and being there for the patient and the caregiver, I was able to see through my dad’s eyes that he finally saw me as someone worthy of attention. He saw that I was strong, because I could load, haul, and stack his firewood. He saw that I could get work done around the place because I did. And he saw that I was loved and cherished because my husband loves and cherishes me.

When he saw that affection shown me, he started to demonstrate, in small and almost undetectable ways the same to Mom. She did not recognize these demonstrations and when she was told, she attributed them to a certain drug’s side effect or as a misinterpretation of his intention. Her mountain blocked her view much of the time so she kept to her pill counts and bandage changes.

In the last months of his life, Dad became more resigned to his impending death. He started to pray in his own way over meals whenever my husband invited him, and he would listen to Mom’s favorite radio Bible program with her. But mostly, he would sleep in his living room chair and say how nice it was to have peace and be with Mom. She did know that, that he cherished peace and being quiet with her next to him.

Now he’s gone and I don’t grieve. God gave us the gift of holding him in our arms as he passed away in his hospital bed in the living room. When Dad breathed his last, Mom had rubbed his back and was taking care of the results of an enema that had worked. He was in our arms. He gave two short fishy gasps, and a slight grimace and he was on his way across the river. 

Appreciate the you God has made!

My mother tells me I’m clever.  She has expressed this notion more times than I can count.  But with this statement she also says that she is not.  It goes something like this.  “Sherida, you are so clever,” as she looks at a piece of clothing I have sewn or has heard a goofy comment I’ve just made.  “I don’t know where you get it, but it sure wasn’t from me,” she finishes.

After listening to this for years and years, I finally decided to chime in and say, “Yes, Mom, when God was passing out the good stuff, you happened to be in the bathroom.” Everyone laughs and that’s the end of it.

My mother has no reason to make such statements about herself.  Of all the women I know, she is the best and most compassionate Registered Nurse, and now caregiver, I have ever known.  She was good at her job and the nurses aides who were lazy did not like her very well, which means she was really good at her job. She now meticulously cares for my dad and he is happy. She is a good mother and a good wife in every way and we all in the family are very blessed.

Everyone is a product of the God of Heaven and everyone has something unique to share, especially those folks who suffer great physical or mental hardship. Hidden underneath the suffering is a wealth of gifts that can be dispersed to their fellow man. 

All you have to do is look at the many amazing stories people share on Facebook, or the stories that are broadcast at the end of a television news hour about those who have overcome great odds or have exhibited extraordinary care for someone else. 

We love to hear these uplifting stories, and we all can be an uplifting story!  Our day to day encounters with people can be exercises for us to show kindness, compassion, humor, and patience.  We can brighten someone’s day and bring out the good that may be hiding under a weight of care and worry. 

Instead of beating ourselves up because we don’t think we are talented or clever we can do something better.  We can be Jesus to someone today.

Take to heart the words of the Psalmist when you start looking down on yourself: I praise you (God), for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.  Wonderful are your works; that I know very well. Ps. 139:14

How to recognize God watching you

Do you believe that God is too busy to pay attention to you? Do you think He doesn’t know you exist or that He doesn’t care because there are so many other “more worthy” people to look after and interact with?  I think we all have entertained these thoughts. If you are troubled with such notions, maybe this will help.

“Recognizing God’s Presence in Your Life 101”

1. Is this it?

You may have all you need and then some.  You may live a life of fun and adventure,  have all the toys you could ever want and have need of nothing yet you wonder, “Is this all there is?” or, “There must be more than this.”  This is a void speaking in your heart which has been placed there by God and nobody but God is allowed to enter it.  It is reserved for Him and when He has not been invited there by you, you feel its emptiness.  The only way to find the answer to “Is this all there is?” is to give God what He wants: His place in your heart.

2.  It’s just a few bucks.

On the job, do you fudge the books a little, or take a few pills from the med drawer?  Do you spend the work day on the phone with a friend or produce less widgets than you could? You reason that your boss can afford it, but your conscience tells you that what you are doing is dead wrong.  This is not a case of scrupulosity, but the Holy Spirit trying to correct his naughty child.  God is telling you He loves you and wants you to behave.  He sees every nickel you take and every minute you waste. If He didn’t care about you, you would not feel the guilt.

3.  I don’t know why I feel lonely.

If you have no reason to be lonely but you have this ever abiding feeling of loneliness, it is your heart and soul yearning to be Home with the Lord.  You don’t necessarily want to die right now, but you pine for the time when you will be where all tears will be wiped away and all will say “Let us go into the House of the Lord!” It is also God pining for you and for the day when you will be with Him and see Him as He is!

The perks of obedience

Every day I struggle with putting aside my own wants for this or that to happen and my desire to make plans for the future. And most every day those things I think  I will do are things that God puts aside in order for me to do what He wants me to do.  

When the day is through, I recall what was done and say, “Thank you Lord for helping me do what You wanted done today.” And if I haven’t scratched and clawed for my way but instead in calm obedience done what was assigned for me, the day will have gone like clockwork. It is amazing.  When I give God what He wishes, my obedience, I not only live in peace but I truly gain my life.  

I recently came across a story written for a publication by a friend of my husband. This amazing woman, now in her late 60’s, chose to forsake all the world had to offer her when Jesus came to her and redirected her back to a calling she accepted when she was a young girl. Driving her car on the highway to somewhere, He came and she instantly fell “madly in love with the Lord”.

She immediately drove to her downtown office, resigned from a lucrative career as an executive secretary to one of the biggest television networks in the country.  In this, she gave up world travel, a boyfriend, and even a chance, at Steven Spielberg’s coaxing,  to be cast as the Bionic Woman in the late 1970’s show with the same name.  She gave it all up to become a hermit nun who prays daily over a mountain of prayer requests that come to a hermitage in southern Minnesota where she and a handful of other nuns live and pray.

I don’t list her accomplishments and opportunities to impress but to illustrate that one can have the world at her fingertips and still feel there is something missing. For her, giving up all the tinsel of Hollywood was easy because Jesus knocked her off her feet and assured her that there is something better and something far more important to live for: Him and the work of helping Him save countless souls.

Reading this story helps me stay focused. During my stay here I should not be focused on accumulating stuff, hoarding stuff, or saving stuff so that there’s plenty of it when I die.  I should not be focused on making a name for myself. And I should not strive to be like friends who seem to be able to turn everything into gold. 

These things to not bring peace and in them I do not gain my life.

Whose resources will I trust?

Many years ago, my children and I would visit a couple of nursing home residents once a week. One of these ladies was a Finnish woman who would tell us stories of her years on the family farm, her marriage, and her careers throughout her life.

The most frequent subject matter in these many conversations was the financial matters of the farm and the family. It didn’t take long before I knew how much it cost to build her stone garage, and how much it cost to buy their flood insurance, and how much she earned delivering fresh milk, etc. etc.

This lady was a very godly woman and very financially savvy as well.  Every cent was accounted for, every dollar was watched over with care. I don’t know if that was a quality developed because of the Depression or if she, like most Finns I know, think a lot about money and where it’s going to come from.

Being in this group of most Finns I know, I too am all too concerned about money and where it is going to come from.  I watch the accounts like a hawk, and hold on to my dollars with a death grip. Sometimes I see Jacob Marley when I look in the mirror.

Fortunately, my husband is quite the opposite.  He knows and practices the belief that God will supply our every need.  He doesn’t worry when something unexpected comes up and he doesn’t hold back help when someone else needs help.  When there isn’t much meat left on the bone, he just looks to heaven and eventually heaven responds to our needs.

To be as worry free as he is, I evaluate my miserliness in this way: I can trust only in what we visibly have and worry, or I can trust in God and His resources knowing He “owns the cattle on a thousand hills”, in other words He owns all the meat, and not worry.

If I don’t worry, I can open up the death grip and become a cheerful giver. I can broaden the measure I use to give and in turn the measure God uses to bless us is also broadened.

Luke 6: 38 says, “Give, and there will be gifts for you: a full measure, pressed down, shaken together, and overflowing,will be poured into your lap; because the standard you use will be the standard used for you.”

How gentle a Savior

I think my greatest weakness in this journey is for me to stay calm when inanimate objects do not cooperate with me. For instance, a couple of weeks ago, I had baked some pumpkin bread for a bake sale and I was attempting to wrap plates of sliced bread with Saran Wrap.

From the get go, that stuff would not do what it claims, “Wraps tight without a fight.” Well, it not only fought, it attacked and nearly killed me.  After several attempts to cover the plates without completely encasing the bread in crumpled messes, the floor was littered with great balls of plastic wrap, large drops of blood, and in the air hung a heavy cloud of dicey language meant for only Saran to hear.

As soon as I started forming this cloud, my guilty conscience overtook me and I began to sob as the foul language echoed across the walls of the dining room. Oh, I had failed again to pass this test. 

Several hours later I was still lamenting my setback and I said, “Thank you Lord for not striking me with a bolt of lightening.” Immediately, I heard in my spirit a very quiet, gentle, “I am not like that.” 

Oh, the tears flowed again as I realized how kind and understanding He is to me. 

A stigma to embrace

Since it is almost Christmas, I have been thinking a lot about the predicament Mary found herself in after she, without skipping a beat, accepted to play the role of the Mother of our Lord. I imagine how she broke the news to Joseph and how he may have initially responded. 

The Christmas story reveals that he acted as a man who knew the rules of his faith, but that he did not want to follow them to the letter. Instead of having Mary stoned to death for being unfaithful as the law required, he chose to quietly divorce her before the town found out what was going on. 

Fortunately, since he would play a key role in the plan of salvation, the Angel of God explained to him his beloved’s new role. He became convinced that she was carrying the Lord. The two married and he became the earthly father and protector of the baby Jesus. Good man.

Surely the town found out about this development and tongues began to wag about this “hussy” and that “illegitimate” pregnancy. She, Joseph, and all the family were probably looked down upon by those who enjoyed the feeling of superiority when “sharing” with others this “sad” news. 

“Oh, those poor, poor, parents.  How they must feel having spent all their years trying to raise a good girl, and now look at her.”   “Tisk, tisk, it’s such a shame, and blah, blah, blah...”

Because scripture says that Mary pondered everything in her heart, I believe she never told anyone, except her family, about the angelic visitation, or the overshadowing of the Holy Spirit, or all the miraculous events thereafter. She kept all to herself at the cost of losing her reputation and maybe some of her family and friends. 

I bet the stigma of this pregnancy was attached to her her whole life.  And I bet when Jesus took his ministry to his hometown, thirty years later, a lot of that stigma found its voice and judgement and fueled the townspeople with desire to push him off the cliff outside of town after he made the audacious comparison between them and two Gentiles of the Written Torah whom God favored. Luke 4: 21-30 

Even though Mary knew that she would be treated most unfairly, looked down upon, and become the gossip of the town for years to come, she did not hesitate to accept the Lord’s plan for her life.  Let us do the same.