A Courageous Heart

       

Evgeni Dinev @ freedigitalphotos.net

  Have you ever felt like you were standing at the edge of a cliff, ready to take the plunge over the edge into the unknown? I have. It was a hot summer day and I had been standing in line for what seemed like forever. There was a line of people in front of me and more behind me. I was with a couple of my friends and we talked and laughed as we waited and moved forward, slowly foot by foot, climbing upward. Despite the conversation and laughter I was nervous. At the end of the climb, I would take a plunge that I had never taken before and I could feel the butterflies swarming around in my stomach. Finally, we reached the top and it was my turn. I sat down on the little rubber mat they gave me and pushed off laying down as I had been instructed. I shot forward and plummeted toward the earth as I followed the path of the twisting, turning tube, pushed onward by the flow of water and gravity. At times I was frightened that I would flip over and get a nose full of water, at other times the rush of excitement was amazing. At last I landed in the pool of water below. I had finished my first water slide adventure. I had stepped into the unknown and although it was scary it was also worth it.

          I think Joshua felt like he was standing on the edge of a precipice when we meet him in Joshua 1. Moses, his friend, his mentor, his boss, had just died and God asked him to take over leading the people of Israel. He’d been with Moses for 40 years. He’d seen the miracles God has performed through Moses. He’d been up on the mountain with Moses.  He’d been Moses’ aide and he’d seen so much, but now it’s his turn. Now the responsibility to lead this people, this nation of over a million, into battle, into the land God has promised them is his. 

          What was he thinking as he faced a future without his mentor Moses? What was he thinking as he faced leading a group of people who had been less than cooperative and obedient? What was he thinking and feeling as he stood facing his step forward into the unknown? Someday we will be able to ask him those questions, but for now we can only speculate. For now, we can only imagine what he was thinking and feeling based on what we think and how we feel when we are faced with stepping out into the unknown.

          Joshua didn’t know what the future looked like. He knew where God was taking them, but he didn’t know just what the process for getting there would look like. Often we don’t either. God gives us a burden, a vision for a work He wants to accomplish through us, but He doesn’t give us all the details. 

          As we stand at this place waiting to step off into the unknown, we often experience fear, nervousness, doubt, and discouragement. God gave Joshua the prescription to counteract those feelings. God said, “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified: do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go” (Joshua 1:9 NIV).

          Be strong . . . not do strong or do strong things or act strong, but . . . BE strong. BE courageous. God doesn’t give us a list of dos and don’ts here, rather He tells us what to be, and what not to be. “Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, . . .” Then He tells us why we can be these things, “. . . for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.”  Oswald Chambers wrote, “We are uncertain of the next step, but we are certain of God.” 

          It is God who gives us the grace and the strength and the courage to step off into the unknown or to face the unknown when it is thrust upon us. We can be strong and be courageous when we are certain of God, when we are dwelling in Him, remaining in Him. 

          Brother Lawrence, a monk who lived a few hundred years ago, made it his mission in life to practice the presence of God. (There’s a book about him called Practicing the Presence of God if you want to know more.) He chose to spend every day as if God were walking through it with him, to focus his thoughts on God all day long, to pray continually.  By practicing God’s presence he made his dwelling place in God.

          “He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.  I will say of the LORD, ‘He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust’” (Psalm 91:1-2). We are not strong and courageous because we never face difficulty (we wouldn’t need to be strong or courageous then), but we can be strong and courageous IN difficulty because of our God who never leaves us or forsakes us.

          May you find strength and courage in the great I AM because He is strong and courageous.  May you be able to face each circumstance with strength and courage because I AM will never leave you or forsake you.

                                                                   

What's Simmering on the Back Burner?

Hi There! Thanks for stopping by. I've been working on a series about New Beginnings, but it's not quite ready to publish yet. In the meantime, I wanted to pop in and keep you in the loop about what's happening here at Emerging Butterflies.

If you've been following along, you're aware that I moved a few months ago and that adjusting to all the changes has been a challenge. One of the things I was working toward before the move was starting a new blog. That is currently still on the back burner. For now, however, I'll be here at Emerging Butterflies for awhile. When the time comes to move, I'll be sure to keep you up to date and to make the transition as seamless as I can.

You may have noticed that I recently made some style changes to Emerging Butterflies. One of them was to change the tag line: "Building a Life of Meaning; Leaving a Legacy of Love." This tag line encapsulates my desire for this blog and for the new one. I hope that you'll stop by often to see what we're talking about here.

Soon, I hope to have a brainstorming session to plan what I'll write about this year. I would love your help. "How can I help?" you ask. Well, one huge thing you could do is to tell me what you'd like to hear about and talk about here. What is one question you would like to have answered when you stop by? What is a conversation you'd like to be part of?

See you soon!!

8 Lessons from Necessary Endings

freedigitalphotos.net

On October 10, 2015 I pulled out of the parking lot of the apartment that had been my home for 18 years. The moving truck had left, my friends had pulled away, and tears threatened to run down my cheeks. It was the culmination of several necessary endings: a job, relationships, a connection to a specific place of worship, a home, and ministries. We all face endings in the course of our lives, some that we choose, some that we don't. How do we face those endings in a productive way?

Leave well. If you are the one leaving, do your best to leave well, to leave in such a way that people will be glad when you return.

Speak words of affirmation and appreciation to those you are leaving behind. Although relationships may not be ending, when we leave it changes the relationship. We no longer see each other as frequently or in the same settings. Speaking words of affirmation and appreciation let the other person know what the relationship has meant to us, the contribution they have made in our lives. This is part of leaving well.

Train a successor. If you are leaving a job, a ministry, or a role in the community, do your best to train someone to replace you. When you leave, it will leave a hole and the sooner a replacement is found, the sooner someone can be taught the ropes, the easier the transition will be.

Leave behind systems for success. When I began teaching, one of my colleagues challenged me to think ahead as if I would teach for many years and to establish systems that would make each successive year flow more easily. This advice caused me to establish systems not only in my teaching, but in other areas of my life. Established systems can help your successor to transition until they are able to make the job their own.

Accept help. Necessary Endings and New Beginnings, no matter how positive they are, are stressful. Accept help from others when they offer it. Without those who helped me pack, move, clean, and adjust, the path between the necessary endings and the new beginnings would have overwhelmed me.

Be present where you are while you are there. Leaving, moving, saying good-byes can be emotionally draining and the temptation is to disengage emotionally and mentally before you are gone physically. Part of leaving well is to be there until you are gone - to be a friend, to be a colleague, to be an employee as long as you are there.

Grieve the loss. Allow yourself time and space to grieve for what you have lost. Good or bad, what has ended has had an impact on your life, possibly for many years. Be gracious with yourself and create space for yourself to feel the pain, to weep, and to process the loss.

Let go when you are gone. After the ending takes place, after you have grieved, let go, move on, embrace the new beginnings. Make room in your life for new relationships, new jobs, new ministries, new ways of doing things.

What lessons have you learned when you faced an ending - chosen or unexpected?

The Gift of Presence

In 2007 I was going through a difficult transition, my life was changing and I decided that it might be time to get a pet. I had wanted one for some time, but my busy life wasn't conducive to having one. However, my schedule was slowing and I saw an opportunity to bring a pet into my life. After much debate whether bring a dog or cat into my home, I realized that a cat would fit my lifestyle much better. I prayed and asked God to bring along the right kitty for me. In just a short time, one of the girls in our youth group showed up one night and said that after youth group her mom was bring a new litter of kittens for us to meet. That night I met a teeny-tiny black and white kitten named Adirondack. I held him on my chest and he just snuggled in and slept easily over my heart. I fell in love. A few weeks later he came home with me.

Adirondack seemed like a big name for a tiny little guy and I wanted his name to be significant to the time of life I was in. I searched and searched and then finally find the perfect name. Dakota means "friend" and it has proved to be an apt name. He has been an excellent little friend.

On September 5, 2015 about 5:35 a.m. my sweet little Dakota passed away. It happened far too quickly in my opinion. I received a diagnosis of diabetes for him earlier that week, although the vet noted a possible problem with the liver as well. We decided to treat the diabetes and see if that was the primary issue. On Wednesday night I brought home his diabetic food and he dug right in and was acting quite normal. When I came home from work Thursday night, he had taken an unexpected turn for the worse. I was concerned and spent much of the night with him. When I arrived at the vet on Friday morning for a diabetic tutorial, the vet shared my deep concern. After a discussion of options, and many tears, I brought my little buddy home with IV liquids and pain meds. Over the next 19 hours I cared for him tenderly and was able to say good-bye.

Later I was talking with one of my sisters and she commented that I probably confided in Dakota a lot. I replied that I really hadn't. Although I talked to him constantly, my conversation with him was focused on him. As I tried to explain to my sister, I realized that the greatest gift Dakota gave me was presence.

When Dakota entered my life, I had lived completely alone for 10 years. After he came to live with me, I wasn't alone any more. When I came home, he often met me at the door. He entertained me with his antics - he had a big, quirky personality combined with intellect - and became the source of many a story. And he taught me that while I expected him to obey, I also needed to respect his likes and dislikes and take them into consideration. I learned to read his body language.

Over time we developed habits that created a connection and a pattern to our lives. Part of our morning routine was him jumping up on the bathroom sink for a drink. I'd turn on the water he'd take a drink and then jump down. I'd turn off the water and he'd come right back so I'd turn the water back on. After doing this two or three times. I warn him that "Mama's not playing this game anymore" and he'd take a long drink.

When I brought him home the first time, I was determined that I wouldn't kiss him and that he would not sleep in my bed. That first night I put him in a basket next to my bed and even though he was only about 4 or 5 inches long, he had sharp little claws and promptly climbed my dust ruffle and comforter so that he could cuddle with  me. I picked him up and put him back in the basket. He'd cry and then up the side of the bed he'd come. After doing this over and over again until 2 or 3 in the morning, I gave in and we both had a good night's sleep. Until Wednesday or Thursday morning of week he died, I regularly woke up to him on the foot of my bed. And as you can guess, I had come to kiss him regularly.

My last words before I left for work each morning were, "Bye, bye, my boy. Mama loves you. Be a good boy. No shenanigans today!" When I came home at night, often he'd meet me at the door and if he didn't I'd find him and we'd have a cuddle. He would follow me and want to be in the room I was in, sometimes close by, other times just watching me, seeing what I was up to. Of course he slept for hours every day, but even in his sleep he seemed to always know exactly where I was.

He was present with me. He was present when I found out my parent's house had burned down. He was present when my Dad passed away. He was present when I lost some of my dearest friends and my church exploded. He was present when I was working, when I was sick, when I was sleeping, when I was relaxing, when I was sad, when I was happy. The one time he wasn't present was when I got angry and he became my gauge. If my voice took on even the slightest sign of anger he'd run and I knew I needed to calm down.

Cat and Mouse (on top of the shower rod)

Petting him was calming. Hearing him purr was music to my ears. He was present with me. He was a sweet companion in times of loneliness. He was my travel companion back and forth to my parent's home on hundreds of trips. He was my playmate in the little games we played. He was comic relief that made me laugh over and over again. He was my protector from mice, spiders, and bugs. He was the writer of my Christmas letters. He was the subject of anecdotes. He was a source of connection with other cat lovers. He was a continual source of love. Above all he was present and he was one half of an irreplaceable relationship.

In time I hope to have a new kitty friend and I hope to have an amazing relationship with that little furry friend, however my relationship with Dakota cannot be duplicated because he was a living creature with his very own personality. He gave me many gifts, that collectively can be called the gift of presence.

Time to Catch Up

freedigitalphotos.net

Dear Readers,
Hi there! Well, it's been five months today since I last posted and many things have changed. In the coming weeks, I'll reflect on the deeper meaning of some of those changes, but tonight I'll catch you up on the big stuff.

Over the last several years as a family we've watched my mother's confusion grow and her ability to live on her own and care for herself diminish. Gradually, step by step, we've put measures into place to ensure her safety and well-being. Last year it became apparent that something more was needed. My sister, her primary caregiver, was burning out. I was traveling regularly to relieve her and to care for my mom and I was getting burned out. Something had to change if we were to sustain her well-being as well as our own.

After a great deal of prayer (my own as well as from family and friends), I accepted a new job which would allow me to move in with my mom and become one of three primary caregivers. I started my new position on October 5th and moved my belongings into my mom's house on October 10th. From the time I accepted the position in mid September until a couple of weeks ago when the holiday season came to a close, I felt as if I was living in a rapidly spinning whirlwind trying to make it from one day to the next. Now, four months into this life-turned-upside-down mode, I am beginning to establish new rhythms from day to day and week to week.

I have missed you, my readers. I have thought of you and longed for space to write again. As we forge ahead into 2016, I look forward to exploring some of the great themes of life: change, endings, grief, identity, ministry, pursuing dreams, and grace.

Looking forward to walking through this year with you. May you have a blessed and healthy 2016!!!
Dar

How do We Live in the Tension?

Photo by Praisaeng courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net

A few weeks ago I was intrigued by a Facebook discussion sparked by an article about the gay marriage issue. Many people weighed in, some agreeing with the article's position, others strongly disagreeing. As I read the comments and followed the debate, I wanted to have the perfect comment to end the debate, to resolve the tension.

I admit, I want an easy-peasy, straightforward answer. I want both sides to walk away at peace with the other. I want resolution. However, beliefs and opinions are strong and opposing. Longings are powerful. Pain is difficult to overcome. There is no easy resolution. So we end up living in the tension. How do we navigate that?

How do we live out a Christian faith in a post-Christian (sometimes it even feels anti-Christian) culture?

I wish I had an easy answer. I wish I had the solution, however at this point, I am left with a few things I know and lots of questions.

I know God loves humankind -- more than we can possibly imagine. I know that God wants people to choose Him and to obey Him. I know that God chose, at incredibly immense cost to Himself, to allow people to chose for themselves whether or not to obey Him and that I need to give them the same freedom He does. I know that God wants me to love and demonstrate grace in the same way He has to me (oh, how poorly I do this!!!). I know that God has standards of right and wrong that He established for our well-being.

Still there is this tension, this place where we live that has no simple answers. How do we both live according to God's standards of right and wrong and love those who don't? How do become involved, intelligent, gracious citizens of a country where we have the freedom to influence public policy on matters that involve strongly held, but controversial, issues of faith and morality?

I don't know for sure. Yet, if we desire to be authentic in our faith and draw others to Christ, then I think we must come together with those who hold opposing views with respect and honesty. I think we must ask the hard questions and hear answers that we may not like and still respect the one who has spoken. We must find a way, not out of the tension, but through it.

What does "In Jesus' Name Amen" Mean?

"Hello!  You have reached the Smith’s.  We’re not home right now.  Please leave your name, number, and a brief message and we’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”  Beep.  “Hi, this is Karla.  I got your message.  I’d love to go to the movies this Friday.  Shall we meet there at say, 5:15.  Wanna do supper after?  Give me a call.  You know the number.  In Jesus’ name, amen.  
Ummm (long awkward pause) I mean, ummm.  Bye.”  

Jesus told His disciples, “And I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Son may bring glory to the Father.  You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it.” (John 14:13-14 NIV) For many adding the words “In Jesus’ name I pray, amen” seems to be how we pray in Jesus’ name. Yet, for many, as the situation above so poignantly portrays, it has become a phrase that is attached to the end of our prayers that carries little meaning.  It almost seems to be a mantra that we spout without real thought our genuineness.

What does it mean to pray in Jesus’ name?  In recent years the phrase “What would Jesus do?” has been popularized, satirized, and by now often disregarded. Yet, the book from which it comes, In His Steps, raises a powerful question. If Jesus were here on earth, living in our world, working at our jobs, what would He do?  How would He handle things? I believe that this is the idea behind Jesus’ teaching in John 14:13-14. Although the name of Jesus is powerful, it is not a magic mantra to use to get God to give us our wish list. When we pray in Jesus’ name, we are embracing the God-man Jesus. We are embracing all He was and all He taught. John helps us to understand this in his first epistle when he says, “if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us.” (1 John 5:14b NIV)  Praying in Jesus’ name is about asking for the things that are consistent with Jesus and His teachings, which are consistent with His character. 

Praying in Jesus’ name is really about asking and answering the question, “What is God’s will in this situation? What does God want to accomplish?” and then aligning our prayers with the answer. Yet, that seems daunting. How can we know what God desires? Scripture gives us many clues regarding God’s will for His people. By searching Scripture, by praying Scripture, by listening daily for God’s direction in our lives, we become more tuned in to what God is doing generally which helps us to be open and receptive to what God is doing in specific situations. As we align our will with God’s, and begin to pray in His will, we also discover what it means to pray “in Jesus’ name.”

I would love to hear your thoughts about praying in Jesus' name. Things you've learned or questions you've had.

How would you explain "praying in Jesus' name" to someone new to prayer? 

Have you ever rotely used "in Jesus' name" in an awkward situation?

Remembering to Pray

Image courtesy of imagerymajestic
at freedigitalphotos.net. 

My day is filled with work, cleaning house, tending to people's needs and my time is full.  Then I read in 1 Thessalonians 5 to "pray continually" or as the King James Version says to "pray without ceasing" and I wonder how to obey that command.

I forget to pray sometimes. I want to pray for people I love, regarding hardships, asking for direction, and I want to obey Paul's instructions to us, but sometimes I just forget. Several years ago a woman in our community was diagnosed with very aggressive breast cancer and I committed to pray for her, but I was concerned I would forget. Then I remembered that I drive by her home every day on my way to work. I committed that each time I drove by her house I would pray for her. Her house has served as a reminder to pray, when I otherwise would have forgotten. Another friend asked me to pray for a specific situation, so I put a sticky note on my computer to remind me to pray for that situation. Then an ambulance passed by, and as I've made it a habit to do when I hear a siren, I prayed for all involved the rescue workers and those in trouble. Suddenly I realized that all of these things were reminders – simple little triggers that remind me throughout the day to pray for things that concern me and the ones I love. 

           

A few years ago a friend taught me another means to help remember to pray for someone. When someone shares a prayer request with me, even if it's by e-mail or phone, I pause and pray with them at that moment. If it's by e-mail I write the prayer in the e-mail and send it back to them. I was drawn to this idea for two reasons. First, because I knew I wouldn't break my promise to pray by forgetting.  Second, because the person hears the prayer and hopefully they are comforted and encouraged by knowing and hearing the prayer lifted up on their behalf.

I wish I didn't forget. I wish that remembering to pray was always my first response, not just my sometimes first response. I find these little reminders help me to move closer to praying continually.  If, like me, you sometimes forget to pray for the things you want very much to remember to pray for, give these little reminders a try. You can use something you drive or walk by daily; a note on the 'frig, computer, or mirror; a sound; anything that triggers your mind and heart to go before God in prayer throughout the day can lead us to more and more consistently pray continually.

What has helped you to pray continually? 

How do you remember to pray for specific requests?

A Foursome . . . And Then There Was One

For nearly 70 years the two couples were friends, family, a foursome knit together by common experience, by love, by friendship, by blood.

The two men, brothers, were born just 11 1/2 months apart. Arlyn, the older of the two was a sickly child. Although the two boys started school one year after the other, because of Arlyn's illnesses they were soon in the same class and remained so until they graduated from high school.

The girls, Dorothy and Jessie, met and became friends in 7th grade when Dorothy came to the "central school" in town from her one room country school. While in high school, the two girls worked together one summer in a laundry. They walked many--MANY--blocks from the house where they boarded with Dorothy's aunt and uncle to the laundry. On the way to and from work, they passed a Catholic church. The unfamiliar sound of the nuns chanting morning prayers unsettled them a little. At the laundry they each had their own set of duties, one ran a mangle that pressed the sheets and the other ironed uniforms.

High school passed quickly and graduation was before them. At their class night before graduation, they did a skit that showed Arlyn married to Dorothy and Floyd married to Jessie and living in a duplex. The skit proved to be a self-fulling prophecy. Floyd and Jessie married first and moved into half a house owned by his parents. When Arlyn and Dorothy married a few months later, they moved into the other half of the house.

While they were sharing the house, the two couples continued their friendship. Both women were pregnant during this season. Jessie gave birth to a son and later Dorothy to a daughter. They crocheted together, visited, and helped each other through the early days of marriage. Each couple created a home side by side with the other to care for their budding families. However, after a few short months their paths took different turns.

Arlyn worked on the family farm and Floyd and Jessie went to Bible school in preparation to go to India as missionaries. Although separated by many miles and different life experiences, when Floyd and Jessie returned from India, they settled again in the same small town where they were born. The two couples continued their long time friendship.

For about 2 weeks each year all four were the same age. Floyd was the youngest of the four and Arlyn was the oldest. Between Floyd's birthday and Arlyn's birthday all four would be the same age, then Arlyn would turn a year older and it would be another 11 and 1/2 months before they were all the same age again.

Life was busy with raising children and building their businesses. Grandchildren came along. The blessings and the hardships of life happened.

In their declining years the two women often talked on the phone about mutual interests and the men worked together to track their church's finances. When the Arlyn reached the end of his life, Floyd visited him often during the week he was in the hospital. Unable to drive that far, Floyd's son brought him faithfully. After Arlyn came home to be cared for by hospice and his children, Floyd and Jessie continued to visit, once bringing a yummy rotisserie chicken for Arlyn's family for supper.

As Dorothy faced the grief and loneliness of widowhood, Jessie called her with encouraging words and the comfort of her friendship until Jessie's voice became too weak to be heard over the telephone lines.

Now only one of this foursome remains. Arlyn, Jessie, and Floyd have been welcomed to their heavenly home, rejoicing to be with their Savior, rejoicing to be reunited with their loved ones. Dorothy remains, longing for her husband especially, missing the other dear ones who've gone before. One day the foursome will be reunited and together they will worship the Savior they loved all their lives long. Until then, Dorothy's family cherishes the days and hours they have with her.

A Trusting Heart

          ”Jump!  I’ll catch you.”

          The smell of sawdust and freshly cut lumber permeated the air. Mooing of cows provided a background symphony. My father and brother were building an addition onto our barn.  I was sitting on the edge of the hayloft, my eyes wide, and stubborn in my fright.

          Below me stood my brother arms outstretched ready to catch me. He is 14 years older than I am, and by this time he was a strong young man and fully able to catch me and put me safely on the ground.  I was afraid. I sat on the edge for several minutes.  He tried to coax me into his arms, I thought about it; I started to jump and then pulled back. I thought about it some more.  He was so sure, but I wasn’t.  What if he missed?  What if I knocked him over? What if . . . ? It was just too risky.

          I never did jump. Somehow we found a way for me to climb down which took much longer, I’m sure, but it was “safe.” 

          God says the same thing to us sometimes, “Jump! I’ll catch you!” He is big enough and strong enough and wise enough to call all the shots, and yet sometimes we don’t trust.  We wonder if God is really big enough, if He will really keep if promises. Bad things happen after all and God does allow them, what if . . .?

          Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego (nicknamed Rack, Shack, and Benny by Veggie Tale lovers) were up against a situation that required them to JUMP! King Nebuchadnezzar built a statue 90 feet high and decreed that everyone had to bow down to it. Rack, Shack, and Benny couldn’t. They were good Jewish boys who loved God and wanted to obey Him. Yaweh's law said that they could bow to no one save Him. They refused to bow to Nebuchadnezzar. 

          King Nebuchadnezzar was not a nice man. In the past when he was displeased with people he had chopped them up into little pieces and made their houses into dung piles. Going up against this man doesn’t sound particularly appealing. Why not just bow down? They could bow on the outside and make it look good, but keep worshiping God at home, right? No, they needed to obey God. God said, “Don’t worship any image.” 

          Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego didn’t bow down and others noticed and reported them to the King. He was angry, in fact the Bible says he was “furious with rage” and ordered them to be thrown into a fiery furnace that had been heated seven times hotter than usual. I love Rack, Shack, and Benny’s response, “O Nebuchadnezzar, we do not need to defend ourselves before you in this matter. If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to save us from it, and he will rescue us from your hand, O king. But even if he does not, we want you to know, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up” (Daniel 3:16-18).

          The King had them thrown in. The soldiers who threw them in were killed from the heat. Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were thrown into the furnace and later they emerged from the fire. Alive. The Bible says, “They saw that the fire had not harmed their bodies, nor was a hair of their heads singed; their robes were not scorched, and there was no smell of fire on them”  (Daniel 3:27).

          Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego obeyed God. They jumped when God said to and He caught them.

          In the distance you could hear the sound of waves, an ocean breeze hit our faces, the sun was hot overhead, and the screech of seagulls filled the air. Anna and I were at the playground at Harvey Cedars and her toy camera had stopped working.  She asked me to fix it.  Secretly I wasn’t sure I could, but hoped I wouldn’t disappoint this little 2 ½ year-old little blonde angel. I started to take the camera, but she held on. I said, “Anna, you’ll have to let go and let me take it if you want me to fix it.” Immediately she let go, and thankfully I was able to fix it. 

          I didn’t trust my brother to catch me. I looked for my own way out of my predicament, but I’ve always wished I’d trusted him instead. Rack, Shack, and Benny trusted God. Anna trusted me. 

          Job goes through loss and heartache and stress that we can only begin to imagine.  In the end God says, “Who is this that darkens my counsel with words without knowledge?  Brace yourself like a man; I will question you, and you shall answer me” (Job 38:2-3 NIV).  Then God proceeds to remind Job through a series of questions of just who He is.  He reminds Job of His power, His wisdom, His care of His creation, of His faithfulness, and His constancy. In the end, Job recognizes the sovereignty of God. He acknowledges God’s right to call all the shots. 

          Trust . . . are you willing to trust God? Are you willing to take the hard and difficult things of your life to God and place them in His hands? How easily we define God by how our circumstances look rather than look at the truth of who God is and seek to understand our circumstances from His perspective. 

          Are you willing to trust God with all of the stuff of your life – big and little, painful and easy? God doesn’t fix our lives until we place all the “stuff” that troubles us in His hands.

Jubilee List

A year ago, I faced one of those big birthdays, you know the ones that end in a zero. As the day grew closer and closer, I felt more and more distress. Then, through the influence of others, I made a choice to turn this year that I was dreading into one of celebration and trying new things. So, I made a list of 50 things that I would love to accomplish before my next birthday in 2015. I didn't finish all 50, but I did finish many of them.

1. I had red cake for my birthday.
2. I opened an IRA.
3. I launched a coaching practice.

4. I visited a butterfly garden . . . with my dear friend Anne.
5. I went to Friendly's with my Mom.
6. I met my dear friend Valerie at Cracker Barrel to catch up after too many years apart.

7. I received a book of memories and kind words of affirmation.
8. I had a steak dinner at Texas Roadhouse.
9. I completed a scrapbook of spiritual lessons I had learned over the last 10-ish years.
10. I had a free birthday meal at Denny's with my Mom.
11. I got a kinda smart phone (although it's turned out to not to be as smart as I thought it was :)

12. I found shoestring licorice (Not easy to find, but I found some at Yankee Candle Headquarters).

13. Saw the ocean also with my dear friend Anne.

14. I finished crocheting a purple baby blanket.
15. I went to Applebee's with my sister Karen. (Although we see each other often, it's rare for us to do something fun, just the two of us.)
16. Met my sister Lucy at my Mom's house for a visit.
17. Completed the Christian Coaching 201 course.
18. Watched the Gilmore Girls series from start to finish.
19. Completed a Grief Coaching course.
20. Had a Bones season 8 marathon with my twin nieces.
21. Replenished my supply of purple ink pens. (Not easy to find.)
22. Made apple towels for my kitchen.
23. Made patriotic towels for my kitchen.

24. Had a picnic and rode a carousel with 5 of my nieces.
25. Read the Kathy Reichs "Temperance Brennan" series through the last completed book (#17)
26. I learned to make a ripple afghan - baby sized.

27. I crocheted a brown and tan afghan for myself that I had wanted to make for years.
28. Had a Christmas party with some of my nieces.
29. Gave my wardrobe a style makeover.
30. I wrote an e-book. Now it needs to be edited and published.
31. I made a pot roast meal.

32. I learned to make spiral scarves.
33. Worked on my "Sometimes When I am Down" scrapbook.

The remaining items on my list, will be rolled over to this year, because they are still things I want to do. There are family members that I wanted to spend time with, do something fun with and didn't get to. There are changes I want to make, books I want to read, and projects to be completed that I still want to complete.

Even though I didn't finish all 50 items on my list, I am happy for the 33 I did accomplish, for the new experiences, for skills learned, for people I spent time with. My Jubilee List helped to add some spice and pizzazz to what had the potential to be a depressing year.

Onward and forward to finishing my last 17 items on this list, plus some others that I want to add on for the coming year.

What fun new thing(s) have you tried in the last year?

Yeah, Though I Walk - Making Meaning - Helping

In the summer of 2012 “Making Meaning” became deeply personal. My church—where I worked and the center of my spiritual and social life—went through a spiritual and relational 8.0 earthquake. As I went to work each day, I encountered the emotional, spiritual, and relational debris of broken relationships, betrayal, heartache, and anger. I not only wanted to find some good, some purpose in the loss of my closest friends and the flaying of my church, I NEEDED to find good and purpose. I needed a reason to go on.

I wanted to be a part of the solution, part of healing the damage done. I wanted to do what I could to prevent it from ever happening again. My life changed that summer in a way that it will never change back and I wanted and needed that change to be good, to have purpose, to help someone else, at least in the end.

Below are some stories of others who have chosen to make helping others a part of finding a path through their grief.

Brian Sager lost his teen daughter as the result of her deep depression. He has helped others by sharing the lessons he learned in a blog post. To read Brian’s story, click here.

Thomas Gray lived only six days. His parents made the courageous decision to donate his body for transplants and research. Click here to read the story of the difference Thomas made in the lives of others.

The Maria Fareri Children’s Hospital is a family centered hospital for children in Westchester, NY. To read about Maria and her family’s legacy, click here.

Rachel Joy Scott was a victim of the Columbine shootings in 1999. Her father speaks in schools and to youth challenging them to “start a chain reaction”—Rachel’s mission. To hear about it, click here.

Inheritance of Hope was founded by a young family whose mother received a terminal diagnosis. The foundation was set up to help other young families facing the loss of a parent. To hear their story, click here.

The Compassionate Friends provides support to families who have lost a child. Families can get involved to receive support or to help provide support to others.  To read more about this organization, click here.

  

Helping others manifests itself in many ways.  Here are just a few more ideas to help make meaning and purpose from the loss of a loved one by helping others:

• Establishing a scholarship to help a student headed into a similar field in which a loved one participated.
• Establishing or donating to a fund to help end a disease the loved one suffered with.
• MADD (Mother’s Against Drunk Driving)
• SADD (Student’s Against Drunk Driving)
• Donating a loved one’s body for research or organ transplants.
• Donating to a cause that was important to the loved one.
• Become involved in helping others who’ve suffered a similar loss.
• Participate in one of the many fundraising and awareness raising walks – cancer, MS, autism.
• Write a book, article, or blog post about your journey and the lessons learned.
• One woman created a workbook and workshop to teach people how to write letters of affirmation to their loved ones before it was too late.

What did I do to help others because of the summer of 2012?

I stayed when I wanted to leave. I stayed to help my church in its healing process. I took classes to become a coach, particularly a grief coach. I hope soon to begin a masters degree in counseling because I want to be both available and skilled in helping people walk through their grief and pain to find hope, healing, and well-being.

What suggestions would you offer? 

How can people make meaning out of profound loss?

Yeah, Though I Walk - Making Meaning - Impact

As we remember our loved ones and reflect on our memories, on the stories that keep their memory alive, we can see the ways that their life has left a lasting impression on ours. Maybe it is lessons learned. Maybe it is their influence on how we think or live. Maybe it’s the way they saw life and how they helped us to see it. Making meaning includes taking note of the ways in which their life made an indelible mark on ours.

Two stories that I did not share in this series are also two people who left a mark on my life that cannot be erased.

  

My dad died about a mile from the house in which he was born. In between he made his home within that one mile all of his life. He traveled from time to time, but he always came home to stay in the fertile green river valley. When I was young, I did not understand or appreciate my dad. As I matured I came to understand him more and as I understood him I appreciated him immensely.

I came to understand that he loved his family with a deep, enduring love – an unconditional love. I came to know in my heart of hearts that even if I did things he didn’t like or didn’t approve of, he would still love me. I knew that he would always love me.  I knew that he would always love each of his children and my mom. His deep love, his ability to “MacGyver” things, his dependability gave me a sense of security, of things being right with the world.

Now, in the years since he stepped through Heaven's portal, I have come to see that my view of men, of what makes a man masculine and a good man has been shaped by the kind of man he was. I find I notice first men who bear a physical resemblance to him - tall, broad-shouldered, muscular. However, more important are the things that made him who he was: hard-working, dependable, filled with deep faith, intelligent, stable, quietly witty, a dry sense of humor, uncomplaining. His abilities also come into play: his ability to fix almost anything, to build, to create. He was a man who could both laugh and cry, who was far from perfect, but big enough to say he was sorry when he messed up. He loved his wife faithfully, cared for her, provided for her, lived with her, laughed with her, and was her lover for over 65 years. Men, good men, masculine men come in many shapes and sizes with unique and individual personalities and this is good. Still, I am discovering that I am most drawn to those men who are in some ways a lot like "dear old dad." This speaks strongly to the love, respect, and appreciation I have for the man who was my dad. 

 *     *     *     *     *

The other story is of a kid, a young man in his early twenties who entered my life wearing a blue baseball jacket and blue baseball cap. My life was never the same after I met him. We are parted now, sadly, for over the course of the 20 years I knew him, I had come to love his family as if they were blood. Our lives had been woven together through a myriad of experiences – births, deaths, trips, celebrations, defeats, and the day-to-day little things that come with sharing life. All of that has ended now, but still he left a mark on my life that will never go away.

He entered my life after a season where my self-image and my faith had taken a major beating, a season where I came close to walking away from my church and seriously questioned God. He came as a 21 year old "kid" to lead the youth ministry in a small country church. It took awhile for us to trust each other and for a friendship to grow, but eventually it did. However, he did not come to that church to stay and after 9 short months he graduated college and left us to marry his fiancée and to live near her college so she could finish her senior year.

The night of his farewell party he gave me a gift. In a place where I had felt used, abused, and discounted, he treated me with love, grace, dignity, and respect. His simple act of acknowledging my humanity and validating it, was a gift no one had given me for a long time. Eventually, I came to serve in another church where he also served and here I met his family and grew to love them. In this church and in the sheltering love of this family, I learned about love, experienced affirmation, and also learned about grace.  Because of his openness to letting God minister through him, I experienced healing at a soul level. Old hurts and wounds were brought to the surface. Forgiveness, love, and grace were applied and I healed and grew and learned things about myself and about God and life with God I never imagined I would. 

I am thankful for these two and for each of the people in the stories in this series. Each one has left a footprint on my life, each one had an impact.

As you reflect on loved ones now gone, I’d love to hear how they have impacted you.

What lessons did they teach you?

How did they influence your perspective?

What one thing about them will you always remember? 

Each of the stories in this series, is the story of one or more persons who touched my heart, who left a footprint on the path of my life. For a time we shared the journey, we walked together, and then they were gone and emptiness settled where they had been.

How can a person cope in the face of profound loss? Life goes on when it feels like it should stop. Our world as we know it has ended, yet the earth keeps spinning on its axis. The sun continues to rise and set. Yet, it seems like it should stop. But, it doesn’t and we too must carry on. But how?

Each person will grieve in their own way.

I journal. I write about the pain, about the memories, about the joy that was and the sorrow that is and in time the hope of what might be someday. I look back at old journals, reminding myself of where I have been, of the obstacles God has brought me over, the trials He has brought me through. I meet myself as I was in younger years. I am reminded of forgotten little intimacies with loved ones. I tell our story and look at it from a variety of perspectives and I wrestle with questions and doubts.

In time, I come to a time and place where I am ready to do the work of “Making Meaning.”

“Making Meaning?” What’s that? We long for the life of our loved one to matter – to be remembered, to have value, to have made a difference. We long for our relationship with them to have mattered, to have made a difference. Making Meaning is our process of discovering how their life mattered and what we can do to remember it and to share it with others.

I’ve broken this final “Making Meaning” section into three parts: Remembering, Impact, and Helping.

This first part is “Remembering.” What can we do to help ourselves and others remember our loved one and the ways his or her life mattered?

Create a scrapbook. Share your favorite memories of the person or create an overview of their life. Preserve letters to them now of things you'd like to tell them if you could. Describe memories of a specific trip or event you participated in together along with pictures and memorabilia. 

A memorial website. Last Memories is one site that allows you to create a page in memory of your loved one. Pictures can be posted. Articles or letters about your loved one, your feelings, your processing can be written. People can respond with memories or words of comfort of their own.

Tattoo the person’s face or name on your body.

Facebook. Maintain the person’s already existing account or create a page in their honor. Here friends and family of your loved one can continue to post messages, memories, and updates.

A garden. Set aside a space for a garden as a memorial to your loved one. It might be one that incorporates some of their favorite flowers or a small pool or waterfall – a place of beauty as a reminder of the beauty of their life.

A special gravestone. A gravestone that has a meaningful picture etched on it. One family chose to have a picture of the family farm etched on the patriarch’s stone. Another who lost a young child had her picture etched on the stone. Other’s have the stone shaped in a unique image.

Plant a tree. Planting a tree is a living reminder of your loved one and is especially appropriate for someone who loved the outdoors or who was concerned about the environment.

Write a letter. Write a letter to your loved one. You might want to save them in a special box or scrapbook to be reread periodically. If you prefer to write privately and intimately, you may want to destroy the letter once it is written. The act of writing the letter can free thoughts and emotions that might otherwise be trapped inside. When you are wrestling with an issue that you would have discussed with them, writing a letter might help you to see from their perspective as you think about how they would have responded. 

A Christmas ornament. Whether you choose one special ornament to lovingly hang year after year or to add an ornament in their memory each year, this can be a way to continue to include a loved one in your Christmas traditions.

A piece of jewelry. You may want to have a piece of their jewelry reset or redesigned as a wearable reminder. Origami Owl and Keep Collective both offer custom made jewelry so that you can design your own memory piece.

Repurpose their clothes. I have heard of both pillows and stuffed animals being made from a loved one’s clothes. Often clothes retain the most powerful of all memory triggers – the scent of a person. These huggable items can bring the person close both visually and through fragrance. 

This is only a few ideas for remembering a loved one. 

I'd love for you to join the conversation and tell us other ideas for remembering a loved one.

I am not compensated in any way for the links provided in this post. 

Yeah, Though I Walk - This Cannot Be! - My Drummer Boy Student

He was a student in my eighth grade English class the first year I taught. He never stopped moving and he never stopped drumming on his desk. I watched him grow from a gangly, rather awkward young man that some compared to the old TV character Steve Urkle into a polished, debonair college man. He was full of humor and laughter, worked hard, and was a kind and generous young man. He was also honest and not afraid to speak the truth even to one of his teachers. I became a better teacher because he was brave enough to respectfully speak truth. 

I remember the day he came into class and told me his father (a leader in our church who I loved and appreciated) had died of a heart attack. He had me convinced this was true for several minutes until he ‘fessed up that it was just a prank. I also remember the times he was working in the school cafeteria and gave me my lunch for free and how he worked hard to gather donations to take to families in need in our community. A prankster? Yes. A heart of gold? Yes.

I came to school on March 28, 2007 and the mood was somber. One of the teachers pulled me aside and told me that My Drummer Boy Student had been killed the night before. He was out with some friends from Quinnipiac University and he got on his motorcycle and pulled out to leave. No one seemed sure what had happened, but he was thrown from the bike and died a few minutes later in his girlfriend’s arms. Oh, this could not be.

At his funeral we heard about other pranks he had pulled such as convincing a family during his college days that he was an Egyptian Jew while attending their Passover. Another time he sneaked past a friend’s driveway warning system and scared one of his friend’s brothers. We also heard stories of his ability to form and maintain friendships and the many ways he had touched the lives of others. He was particularly sensitive to the individual needs of his friends even from a very young age.

My Drummer Boy Student is missed deeply and by many. His parents established a scholarship at our school in his honor.

Oh, yes! And, he actually took drum lessons after that first year I had him as a student and eventually played as part of our worship team.

Yeah, Though I Walk - A Hesitant Farewell

         

I hesitated. People in dark clothes with somber faces stood in small groups on the gentle slope. In a nearby field of clover and alfalfa the sound of a tractor hummed and a hay bailer whirred. Overhead the sun was bright and warm; it seemed out of place. My eyes burned with unshed tears and I felt a lump in my throat. I did not want to bend down and pluck a flower from the bouquet. I did not want to lay that flower down. I did not want to say farewell.

Whimsical . . . warm . . . friendly . . . cheerful . . . caring . . . compassionate were all words I would use to describe Jill. I had come to this town alone several years ago to begin a new life as a teacher and youth worker. On the day I moved in, our youth pastor and one teen, a handsome young man named Kyle, came to help me carry in an array of boxes from the truck and arrange furniture in my new apartment.  Kyle was helpful, polite, a little shy, and yet personable.  My encounter with him as he lifted boxes and bundles, and rearranged furniture (until it suited me just right) left me with a warm, pleasant memory.  As I settled into my new life, I saw Kyle occasionally at church or youth group.  After a time, a pretty girl started coming with him. Before long it became apparent that Kyle and his blonde-haired, freckle-faced Jill had a very special relationship. I enjoyed watching them grow together and was delighted when eventually they were engaged and married. Although I didn’t see them often, I enjoyed talking with Kyle and Jill when I had the chance. They greeted me with smiles and hugs and plied me with questions about my life and I asked them about high school, then college, and most recently, their teaching jobs and new home. 

Although young, Jill was a cancer survivor. She had gone through chemo, hair loss, insecurity about relationships and love, and the fear of impending death. I think perhaps it was that close brush with death while she was still a teen that gave her that extra-special quality of reaching out to people, of seizing every opportunity, of facing life with energy and enthusiasm.

As I started to reach out my hand to pluck a flower and then pulled back, I remembered a moment three days before. I had been walking down the hall in our church, unsuspecting, when our pastor’s daughter stopped me.  Normally a bubbly, outgoing, happy person, Carrie seemed subdued.  She asked, “Did you hear about Jill?”

“No.  What happened?”  I replied, a sense of foreboding coming over me.

“My dad got a phone call last night to come to the hospital.  Jill was in a car accident.  She died.”

             Memories of Jill and Kyle flooded my mind as I tried to take in this news. I had just talked to Jill at church the week before. As always Jill’s face had been aglow with a smile that included her eyes, her cheeks, her eyebrows, even her nose.  Also, as always, she asked me a million questions about me and redirected the conversation back to me after she had briefly answered my inquiries about her.  Whenever I saw Jill and talked to her, I felt like I was the most important person in her world at that moment.  How could Jill be gone? She had been coming home from her graduate classes in a bad rainstorm. On a curve her car had gone off the road and she hit a tree. I heard the facts. I understood the facts. Yet still my mind and heart struggled to comprehend that Jill was gone. 

I hesitated.  I didn’t want to pluck a carnation from one of the many baskets.  I did not want to say farewell.  If I pulled a flower from the arrangement and laid it on Jill’s casket and walked away it would be real and it would be final, too final when I didn’t want to say farewell at all. I felt the pain of losing someone I didn’t know well, but who had touched my life. I felt the pain of losing the opportunity to ever know her better. I had thought I would have many years to build a friendship, but now I saw I never would. The chance had passed me by. I regretted every instance I hadn’t taken time to talk to her longer, all the opportunities I had missed to really get to know her.

I looked across the casket at Kyle, his face etched with pain, in some ways so like a lost, lonely little boy, in others so like the strong, mature man he had been forced to become overnight.  Kyle was surrounded by his family. His mother and grandmother were seated beside him.  His father and brothers stood behind the chairs. His father laid one hand on Kyle’s shoulder and the other hand on his mother’s shoulder. Jill’s family was there too. There was no way to disguise the raw pain they all were enduring.  The tears streaming down cheeks, the jaws set hard, the eyes so sad, the drooping mouths told the story of their pain. 

I hesitated.  I felt a strong resistance deep inside.  I did not want to say farewell, but really that choice had already been taken from me.  Jill was gone and no one had asked me if that’s what I wanted.  Surely no one had asked Kyle, his family, or anyone in Jill’s family. Yet, Jill was gone and we were left with her memory and countless questions all beginning with “why” or “what if”. We’d had no choice whether she lived or died, but in our love and grief we had all come together on this day to lay to rest someone we loved, someone who had made a difference in our lives.

I hesitated.  Then, at last, I bent down and pulled a flower from one of the baskets surrounding the casket.  I fingered the pink carnation for a moment; still fighting the struggle within, still loathe to say farewell.  Then I laid the flower on the casket as my heart whispered, “Farewell, Jill, you loved well and were loved well. Farewell, dear one, until we meet again one day.”  

Yeah, Though I Walk - Shock - The Math Teacher's Wife and Son

Tuesday, February 10, 2004 started like any other day at school. I was teaching Bible to high school students and thinking of things I needed to accomplish throughout the day. During my morning free period I walked through the gym to the church office to return a stapler. The secretary was on the phone. She motioned me over and held out a piece of paper for me to read. The words were simple . . . and terrible. “Math Teacher’s wife and baby--dead.”  She ended her call and explained what had happened. The Math Teacher’s Wife and Infant Son had been in a serious car accident. The Wife was gone, passed through heaven’s portal and The Son was being airlifted to the area trauma center. The Senior Pastor could not be found nor could she find the Youth Pastor. She asked me to find the Youth Pastor and ask him to go to the school office.  I looked in a couple of his favorite haunts before I found him.

He was in the computer lab, chatting with another teacher. Not wanting to disturb the classroom or be overheard, I whispered the news of what had happened and told him he was needed down in the school office to be with The Math Teacher.  He took a deep breath and headed downstairs.

Once again we gathered the middle and high school students in the sanctuary. I remember standing at the doors, directing the students into the room. Three of our senior boys stopped me--each of them either an EMT or volunteer firefighter--they wanted to know if it was another 9/11 situation and did they need to go serve? I was so proud of those young men, so proud.  I told them that no although this was serious it wasn’t another 9/11 situation and they didn’t need to go.

Our Science Teacher explained to our students what had happened. Again we spent much of the day in grief and prayer. Our Youth Pastor went to the trauma center with The Math Teacher and grief counselors from another church in the area came and met with our students. In a small school such as ours all the high school students knew the Math Teacher and many had met and bonded with his wife and son as well.

“Why? What will he do? How will he survive this? Why?” echoed over and over throughout the day.

The Math Teacher’s wife was killed instantly. His four month old son died at the trauma center a few hours later. We were a somber, sad, and mourning school. This was the beginning of a season of asking “Why?” as a school, of wondering what God was doing.

plamoya.com

Over the next two years we walked with The Math Teacher through his grief and loss and saw him marry again. He established a scholarship at our school in memory of his son, a scholarship for a graduating senior who planned to work with children. Each year the scholarship is given out accompanied by a stuffed Winnie the Pooh, the little guy’s favorite.

What kinds of things have you established as a memorial to a lost loved one? 

or 

What would you like to establish given the opportunity?