A Generous Heart

     "There is little chance for a meaningful recovery." That's what the doctor told my family about my Aunt Mary. She had a massive stroke.Her eyes were fixed and dilated. The family kept her on the ventilator until I arrived from Utah. We said our goodbyes. We prayed. We allowed her physical body to depart and we were confident that her soul had already begun its journey. Instead of dwelling on Mary's departure, I would like to share something about the way she lived.

God is light; in him there is no darkness at all. (1 John 1:5)

      She was a career woman in a time when very few chose that path. She worked for the high speed advertising firm, J.Walter Thompson in New York City. It was a glamorous business and the firm decorated the offices of their movers and shakers. Aunt Mary was a facilities manager. She coordinated the purchase and placement of draperies, artwork and furnishings. She had gone to school for business but was blessed with an innate sense of color and composition.
     She was always interested in people. Mary would tell us stories about how people dressed and what they did. I remember her telling me the details of an Indian wedding that she attended. I was fascinated. On the surface, she appeared to be an insulated woman, but she was actually quite well traveled and cosmopolitan. She took her nieces and nephews on eye opening trips abroad. But it is her understanding of connection that impacted me the most.
     When I was small, she lived in New York and we lived in Georgia. We would alternate visits. In between she sent cards for every occasion. I remember colorful cards loaded with a dollar's worth of dimes. People love to be remembered and children even more so. She was generous with her possessions but even more so with her heart. I bless her for teaching me what it takes to be a good aunt and good soul. Heart connections are the most important thing we make in this life and the only things we carry with us when we leave. Blessings on the journey Aunt Mary. You made a difference.
     

The Early Lamb

     I am driving past my neighbors sheep and suddenly I see something out of place. A new lamb! A new lamb in January! I was surprised and delighted. Typically we start seeing the lambs in March. This was an early lamb.

The angry ewe and the early lamb. The ewe kept stomping her feet at me.

     The old and new testaments are rife with references to lambs as sacrifice. The Messiah is often referred to as "the lamb of God." Lambs are symbolic of new beginnings and hope. But what does an early lamb mean?
     Human beings are linear, tangible creatures. God exists outside of time and space. He is "the great I am." While we use terms like early and late, God exists in a space where time is not a factor. The Israelites waited upon the Lord in Egypt. No doubt they waited longer than they thought humanely possible. This is the key: humanely possible. The creator of the universe has more than our earthly convenience in mind. Proverbs 19:21 reads: "Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is the Lord's purpose that prevails."
     About 6 months ago, I stopped flailing. I stopped telling God what I needed and I started listening. Since then, I have seen many good things come from unemployment and illness. If someone had told me this, I would not have believed it. Hebrews Chapter 11 reviews the trials and victories of the Israelites and states "These were all commended for their faith, yet none of them received what had been promised. God had planned something better for us so that only together with us would they be made perfect."
     If I walk on faith then maybe I can really "run with perseverance the race marked out for us."(Hebrews 12:1) Lambs, like blessings and opportunities, are not early. They are perfectly formed and born in God's time.

Humble Pie

     My husband and I leave each other messages on a dry erase board. The other day we had a day of teenage angst and moodiness in our home. I found this message from my husband when I returned from running errands. I said, "I like it; I am not sure what it means." Not being a man of mystery, he replied, "It means just what it says." He was referring to my ability to handle our teen. After a good night's sleep, I had gathered the stamina for a frank, but kind, talk with our son.
     The fact that I could inspire humility in anyone is clearly a God thing. Those of  you who know me, understand what I mean. I am all about harmony, but only up to a point. I have an underlying conviction that I know better. I lose my patience with foolishness and I have been known to hound the Almighty with my opinion of how things SHOULD be.
     Yet, the Lord has a habit of using people's weaknesses for his greater purpose. 2 Corinthians 12:9 reads: " My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." The God of the universe is a God of contradictions. Noah was not keen on building the ark. Moses was one reluctant senior citizen when he led the Israelites out of Egypt. The Messiah took the form of a vulnerable baby born in a lowly setting.
     The Lord knows our weaknesses and our strengths. I know that one of my strengths is my love for my son. One of my weaknesses is impatience. With my son, I am more patient than I dreamed I could ever be. The context of love gives me the opportunity to work on my weakness.  It's a gift to practice patience with a dear one first, and then move outward to those unknown to me.

Isaiah 40:31 reminds me that:
 "He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint."


     Any parenting success that I enjoy is born of grace. The very same God who grants me the grace I request, uses me to inspire and help others. I am not humble or patient and yet I am a vessel of these teachings. This astounds me. He is the God of contradictions and miracles. There are no small miracles. May you trust in His grace in the New Year.

What The Juggler Knew

     This is a wonderful time of year to catch old movies on TV. The other day I saw a short called "The Juggler of Our Lady." In the movie, a juggler, played by Boris Karloff, is saved from a severe snow storm by a group of French monks. The monks feed and shelter the visitor until the mountain pass is clear in the spring.

Painter Marc Chagall understood the beauty of juggling.

     During the winter, the monks spend their free time preparing gifts for the Blessed Mother. Some brothers carved candlesticks while others painted intricate icons. The juggler is touched and wants to give two of his beloved juggling pins as an offering. Some of the monks look down on the gift. The abbot kindly tells the juggler that they couldn't possibly accept the pins because they don't want to deny the man his livelihood.The abbot then invites the man to stay for the procession of the gifts before setting off on his journey. The juggler accepts.
     The festival day arrives and the camera shows a procession of gift bearing monks entering the chapel of our Lady. To their collective horror, the juggler is juggling in front of the Blessed Mother statue. Then suddenly, the abbot hits his knees and blesses himself. The statue has come alive and is reaching out benevolently to the juggler. The remaining monks kneel in awe.
     The juggler knew that we are all given different gifts. He knew he couldn't paint or carve or even sing. He knew that he could juggle and he juggled his best for the smiling Blessed Mother. In the movie Chariots of Fire, Eric Liddell says,"God Made me fast and when I run I feel His pleasure." When we are authentically ourselves, and not a copy of someone else, I do think it pleases the Lord.
     There have been times in my life when I've felt that I had nothing special to give. I don't think this is a failing on God's part. Rather I believe it to be smallness of vision and lack of gratitude on my part. Many times I have often taken my gifts for granted. I have wasted time coveting the gifts of others, rather than being grateful for my own.
     Every gift is equal in God's eyes: A fluffy biscuit, a soaring aria, the ability to bring laughter, a calming demeanor, a beautiful painting and yes, a superb juggler. It's not what we do, but what's in our hearts that makes all the difference. Oscar Wilde said, "Be yourself everyone else is taken." God specializes in variety and abundance. The holiday season is the perfect time to praise him with your best. He is worthy.

A Loan and A Perfect Gift

    "Your son is on the very seriously ill list," said the doctor. My son was born full term but with the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck. I sat up in bed the entire night. I watched the clock move from 12 midnight to 6 AM. I cried until my tears were gone and all I had left were gasps. How could God have me carry a my baby for 9 months only to lose him at birth? I turned this around in my mind all night. Around 4 AM, I had my answer: It was God's baby and he was on loan to me.

     The baby was gradually weaned off the respirator. When he was two weeks old, I held him for the first time. This early brush with death made every day of parenting a gift to me, even the rough ones. My son's birth and life have made me a better person and I am humbled by God's trust.
     As a mother, the Christmas season is a perfect time to meditate on the significance of the Christ child. The sacrifice of the firstborn is a recurring theme in the old testament. In Genesis 22 God instructs Abraham to sacrifice the life of his only son, Issac.  An angel stays his hand to prevent the sacrifice. In Exodus, the Israelites are spared when the first born sons of Egypt are struck down.
     In the New Testament, the Christ child parallels the old testament sacrifice of unblemished lambs. The only son of God is set apart as a sacrifice for all. I am stunned by the rich symbolism and reality, of sacrificing a first born son.
     At Christmas I remember Mary, the Blessed Mother. She was called by God and she said, "I am the Lord's servant (or handmaiden)". I am in awe of her enduring faith when I remember that she later witnessed her son's Crucifixion.
     Jesus lived as a man. He knew both joy and suffering. He was born in the most humble of circumstances; this was no accident because his kingdom is not of this world. His first guests were the shepherds and he IS the lamb of God. The wise men knew who he was because they were book smart AND heart wise.
     My son's birth changed my very ordinary life. Jesus' birth changed the very fabric of heaven and earth. Handel's Messiah states: "The kingdom of  this world is become the Kingdom of our Lord and of His Christ." The song "O Holy Night" says "He appeared and the soul felt its worth." May you feel your soul's worth this Christmas and be blessed by the light of His presence. Merry Christmas!

A Christmas Prayer

     My son wrote this prayer for me as a Christmas gift a few years ago.  I think it is a powerful and lovely prayer. A dear friend who is a theologian termed it "theologically robust." I hope that it blesses you as much as it has blessed me.

Mom's Christmas Prayer

     For I will not forsake his coming, for the Prince of Peace, Savior of the peoples has come to wash away my sin committed against thee. In Him, and in His trust, I will not question His forgiveness.
      He is the vessel of the people of God and in their trust, even unknowingly, He will save them from the void beyond. Let us acknowledge and put forth our understanding in his kindness and purity.

Give thanks, Amen

The Memory Keeper

     We all have gifts. One of mine is being very visual. When I was a little girl, I learned to spell by the shape of words, not by phonetics. Later in life I learned physiology by drawing pictures and flow charts. I illustrated my notes in nursing school to create mnemonics. I love puzzles and can find tiny details quickly. If something is lost, I can usually find it. If I meet someone I may forget their name but I don't forget their face. While all of these uses are quirky, and even useful, its my memory for events that makes me the family memory keeper.

      There have been times when my son and husband don't get along. My son will make a point of saying, "Dad did this or that and it made me angry." But as a memory keeper I can reply, "Yes, I get that you're annoyed but when you were a sick baby your Dad would sleep on the floor in your room just in case you needed him." That image comes right to the front of my mind when I think of my husband's goodness.

     When my husband says,"Teenagers are selfish," I agree, but I then I remember a time when my husband was deployed. I had an upset stomach and was laid out on the couch. My then 3 year old got a chair climbed on the kitchen counter and brought me ginger ale and crackers. I still remember asking him, "How did you do that?" "Got a chair," he said simply.

Consider how the lilies grow. (Luke 12:27)

      My paternal grandparents are long departed, but I remember their garden like I just left it. It was full of pear trees, pansies, tulips and the most gorgeous roses I have ever seen. It was the most glorious place for a child to play.  I filled a roasting pan with water and sailed a little boat. I was the happiest girl ever.
     Naturally a visual memory can be a burden too. I remember facial expressions, exchanges and events long after they are done. Herein lies the importance of framework. If I look at life as a work in progress, then the hurtful things don't have as much staying power. They are pieces of a mosaic, but not the whole work.

     The things we do while we're on earth matter. Each soul is here to improve and learn. The Lord is the the ultimate memory keeper and His memory is not colored by time or emotion. He will hold us accountable for unkind words spoken and kind deeds left undone. 

He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. (Jn 10:3)

Addison Road's song "My Story" speaks to this:

There's just too many times I only think of me
Cause I get so consumed with my opportunities
When my last breath brings me to the feet of God
I want to hear him say I lived for his glory

Each day is a chance to improve on the the previous one. Blessings on your journey.