Hope, God's presence, God's nearness, God's goodness

"And not only this, but we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance' and perseverance, proven character' and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us."
 

This is where I am hanging my hat today, God.  On your word of truth-on hope in You alone.  I have put my hope in so many other things lately-mom getting better, Christina's situation getting better, our church family, life calming down, feeling joyful again, friendships, ministry, everything but You, God.  I think when we define better, good, well, etc....we have such a different image and such different goals than You.  Your goal is the glory of Your name and our holiness which ultimately brings glory to Your name.  Our goal, oftentimes, is comfort, relief, release, change in circumstances, favorable outcomes for us.  What is more favorable than the deep intimacy of Your presence that can only be had through pain?  What is more glorious than character that has been tried, refined, and proven?  Hoping correctly does NOT disappoint.  Our only hope is You.  "For I put my hope in Your unfailing love."  That is all we have.  "And now, Lord, for what do I wait?  My hope is in Thee."  "Why are you in despair, O my soul?  And why are you disturbed within me?  Hope in God, for I shall again praise Him, the help of my countenance, and my God."   If our hope is in You, God, there is no despair.  "But as for me, I will hope continually, and will praise Thee yet more and more."  MORE AND MORE.  That is what I want.  That is what hope produces.  The more life presses you down, the more people disappoint you, the more injustice done-more and more praise to You, God.  You never change-You just ARE-perfect and good and holy and full of hope and grace.  There is so much beauty in that. "But as for me the nearness of God is my good."  Your nearness God-that is what is true goodness-not life going my way or people who love me, not to be fully understood or for justice to happen but YOU.  You are good alone-I just need to fix my eyes on You.  "Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen."  Those "things" are nothing in this world-it is You, God-our hope is in You. We have assurance of You alone, and Your unfailing love and unchanging character and gracious salvation.  That is our hope. And it anchors our soul.  I am ready for storms to come and for Satan's worst-every time I think it cannot possibly get worse, it does, and it does and it does.  But my hope is in God alone-He is best every single day and as I get nearer and nearer, the hope of His presence is better and better.

DeClove

I miss my little dog of 12 years.  She was my girls' childhood dog and the bearer of so many good memories.  Now one girl is grown, almost married.  The other is almost grown.  The passing of Clover signifies the passing of time.  I have never been good at this.  Here goes, Dee:

I remember driving out of Austin to get you as a puppy from a breeder-Rachel researched carefully and we had to have a pure bred Border Collie.  The man was  a rancher and was a little rough with you but you were so sweet and I believe the only girl.  We chose you-or maybe you chose us.  You were covered in mud with nasty ears and worms.  Eric promptly bathed you when we got home and we got you to the vet and all taken care of.

Right away we knew you were going to be a handful-Border Collies are very intelligent and high strung.  We wanted a smart dog.  Eric and I would wake up at 5 am. discussing whose turn it was to get up and take care of you.  It was like having a newborn all over again.  You ate our kitchen table legs-yep, that's right.  We had to put chicken wire around our baby trees out back and set up electric fence around all our flower beds.  We called it the DMZ.  We did not take it down until you were around 6 years old.  You were a wild thing-tried to herd everything in sight-us, other dogs, whatever moved.  You were bred for it.  We always talked about finding a random field of sheep and letting you loose in it.  I wish we had done it.

The girls were young, so we finished school around noon.  They would leash you up and run out the front door screaming "THE HILL".  The hill is now covered in houses.  But it was open and magical back then and we let you off leash to roam freely.  You would run full speed, pulling the girls behind you and we would roam the hill and let you be free for a while.  I remember one day we found a piece of pipe that the construction workers had left out and I put you and both girls in it and rolled you down the hill and the girls screamed and you peed all over them.  It was a wonderful memory.  They also used to leash you to their scooters and let you pull them down the sidewalk.  Probably not the brightest idea.  The first time we took you out on the boat, we put you on while Eric was backing it into the water and you promptly jumped off the back of it into the lake-no fear of the water then!  We took you to the lake many times-once you got in, you loved to swim.  We even took you to a hole in the neighborhood that filled up with water after a rain and you swam around like crazy.  Don't know why it was funny, but it made me laugh.  We used to take you on the nature trails and Turkey Trail-you just loved being outdoors, smelling all the smells, soaking it all up.  So did we.  The girls used to sneak you into the neighborhood pool late at night so you could go for a swim.  That was bad, but I let them do it anyway.  They loved you so much.

One of the big things they used to do was set up obstacle courses for you in the garage-boxes, etc...for you to work your way around.  It was pretty funny.  When you were smaller, they would get a big blue tub from the garage, get in their swimsuits and give you a bath.  You had such a good life, little dog.

You loved your squeaky ball and we probably threw it way too much, contributing to your arthritis.  However, in our defense, we could not even sit outside without you squeaking it mercilessly until someone threw it.  You loved it so much.

There is no possible way to record 12 years of life here but some random memories are:

Taking you upstairs (a big "no no") with a bow around your neck for Rachel's birthday.  Bringing you in the house and putting a Santa hat on you for Christmas pictures.  You and Daffodil playing through the broken screen-you sticking your nose in and her swiping at it with her paw.  Daffodil attacking you when you would come in at night.  You getting impaled on the fence-ugh, that was awful.  Our African American nicknames for you and Daff:  DeClove and FoDill.  All our silly songs we used to make up about you.  The girls will know.  Taking you to Colorado-that is probably where you got your death tick-but you loved it so-the cabin (Squirrel!!!)-the snow-the bears-the stream-all of it.  Oh my gosh!!!!!  The very first time we took you to Colorado and we had you in the cage in the back of the Expedition and you had a HUGE blowout right in the middle of a construction zone where we could not pull over for about 30 minutes-we had all the windows rolled down with our heads out!!!!!!!  You trying to eat the water that came out of the hose, or sprinklers-snapping at it over and over again.  The girls hiding your ball in all the leaves they raked up and making you look for it.  Making you homemade doggie biscuits from a kit I got them for Christmas-like I said, you had a good life.  They loved you so much.  They used to bring the neighbor dogs over so you could have friends to play with.

I know the girls will remember so many more things about you.  They spent much more time with you than I did.  But the one thing that melts my heart that I will miss more than ever is looking into your loyal, loving brown eyes.  You could get me to do anything with those eyes.  I miss you more than I can say, Dee.

Venus

I looked out the window early this morning and saw your star in the sky.  It broke me.  You have been taken out of this world.  You were such a beautiful person.  You taught me so much about life and family and loving Jesus with all your heart.  I still remember our very first conversation at Real Life Group when we were talking about how we wanted to set up our group and the topic of whether we should have food or not came up.  We both agreed that our food should be Jesus-that our focus should be Him and why would we have silly, superfluous things when He was there for the taking?  I remember laughing and being amazed that someone else felt the exact way I did about it.  I remember you.  You made such an impact on me that night and from then on.  You never complained-about anything.  You did not tolerate me complaining either.  The day Rachel left for Nepal I was so full of fear.  I emailed several friends about it.  They all consoled me-all except you.  You put me in my place telling me "she has kingdom work to do" and to basically snap out of it.  I loved you for that.  You always had God's perspective on life-always an eternal mindset.  I can still see your smile and you shaking your head and your beautiful heart spilling out of your eyes-your heart of love for the Father.  I will never forget you and Steve's testimony of how Jesus saved you, your heart for your family, your love for the Persian people.  I remember our lovely dinner at the Persian restaurant and the times you had us over for dinner.  I remember the night we invited the Iraqui couple over and the girls hid upstairs, spying over the railing to hear Steve share Jesus with them.  I remember every time I left you, you told me you loved me-and I know you did-I saw it.  You loved my girls like they were your own. The pink whisps of morning clouds are in the sky now and your star is gone-like you, my friend.  I will never forget you and the beautiful, passionate way you loved our Jesus.  I got a message from your sweet daughter last night-just like you-resolute, focused on Christ-gentle and sweet.  What a legacy you have left.  Dance with Jesus, my friend.  You are home now.

Fall

Hi Mom-First rain of the fall-first promise of cooler weather coming, of a break in the heat.  Corresponds to my heart-this is the first week I have felt a small break in the agony of losing you and although I know it is a permanent wound, it hurts a tiny bit less this week and hey, I'll take it.  I still think of you all the time, in so many small and large moments of each day.  Yesterday I decorated my house for fall-a season you taught me to love with all its colors and cool weather.  You taught me to make my home a sanctuary of beauty and peace for my family and I will honor your memory in this.  Christina has been having a hard time lately.  Last night I took her to a movie, just to get her out and get her mind off of things.  I thought about you and what an advocate you always were for your kids and grandkids.  That is something you would have done.  You always entered into our sadnesses and tried to bring light.  I love that.  Thanks for that example, mom.  I live it every day.  So....happy fall, happy relief, happy that you are where you are even though I miss you here like crazy.

Souvenirs

"Here's to the twilight, here's to the memories, these are my souvenirs, my mental picture of everything......I close my eyes and go back in time, I can see you're smiling, you're so alive......."

I have so many souvenirs, mom, of your time here on earth-physical, mental, emotional and spiritual.  I carry them with me.  They are my memories of you and at times they overwhelm.  This morning was our first cool morning of the fall-I sat out on the patio and happened to glance up at the clouds-they were glorious!  Rays of light were bursting through, shouting their presence and I wondered where you were-"up there", "out there".  What does that even mean?  You are no longer in space and time.  Your soul is safe with Jesus but man, I miss you down here.  Life is NOT the same at all.  Never will be again.  A huge rip in the fabric of life-an irreparable one.  So I will treasure my souvenirs of our time together-I will hold to things you taught me and the person that you were and the love you gave me.

Bask

Dear Mom-  It doesn't seem right that you are not in this world.  I go about my day, unaware, distracted and then this overwhelming sorrow starts in my gut and moves up until it overflows through tears out of my eyes:  you are gone.  Really gone.  I won't see you on this earth ever again.  I try not to let it overwhelm me but it is sad and I miss you.  Every day.  Really miss you.  Life is hard and people are mean and sometimes I just need my mom.  However, I am so thankful you are where you are.  I would never ever want you back here. The only light here is Jesus-everything else is darkness.  Even with Him, some days, I just don't understand life at all....or people......or why things have happened as they have and why my heart is sad all the time.  No, mom, you are better off where you are.  So bask in it-bask in God's glorious presence.  And I will be happy for you.

The Last Night That She Lived

Oh mom-last night I was sick and my nose was plugged up and I could not breathe so I had to breathe with my mouth open and my throat got sore and I was so miserable.  All I could think about was your last 3 days and how you labored, with your mouth open too, and dehydrated, and how miserable you must have been.  But then, "death is swallowed up in victory."  That is what it is, mom.  You are free.  Your trials are over.

I found this Emily Dickinson poem last night upon planning Christina's school for the week.  It took my breath away and I had to reread it several times.  I cannot believe how almost perfectly it describes that last night with you.  Here goes:


The last night that she lived
It was a common night
Except the dying-this to us
Made nature different.

We noticed smallest things-
Things overlooked before
By this great light upon our minds
Italicized-as 'twere.

As we went out and in
Between her final room
And rooms where those to be alive
Tomorrow were-a blame

That others could exist
While she must finish quite
a jealousy for her arose
So nearly infinite.

We waited while she passed
It was a narrow time
Too jostled were our souls to speak
At length the notice came.

She mentioned, and forgot
Then lightly as a reed
Bent to the water, struggled scarce-
Consented, and was dead.

And we-we placed the hair
And drew the head erect
And then an awful leisure was
Belief to regulate.

Wow, just wow,  mom.  This says it so well from our perspective.  I wonder what your poem would be like from heaven?

Tears

It is Sunday, mom.  I will go to church again and cry this morning.  Tears, always tears.  I remember you did the same thing for years and I used to get annoyed with you.  That was before I understood.  Oh, mom, I get it now.  I am sorry I did not before.  I hope I never showed impatience with you.  I get it that your heart was breaking and your spirit was worshiping  all at the same time.  I get it that you wanted so many good things for your family and you were wrestling with trusting God  to give His best.  Was your heart breaking over sin and your own unworthiness?  Were they tears of gratitude and relief that your spirit understood it was all going to be ok in the end?  Tears of pain over years of unanswered prayers?  Tears of grief over missing people that had gone on before you and just wanting a few more moments with them?  I don't know, mom, but I have a feeling I am close.  I get it, now.  No more tears for you in heaven so I will shed them for you here as well and Jesus will keep them in a bottle-He says so.  Not sure what He will do with that bottle but I trust Him and am glad He holds mine and yours and that you are free to shed no more.

You Again

Hi mom- Last night I had another dream about you.  I am so glad you have not disappeared in those quite yet.  This one was very cool.  I was at Campbell's trying to pick out some roses for the girls and you were there with me-it was clear that there was something wrong with you physically-you had a hard time walking or you walked with a limp or something.  But mom-you were completely YOU again-laughing with me, telling me stories, remembering things, helping me make decisions, talking to people.  It was amazing.  I thoroughly enjoyed having you there, having you present in your total capacity.  Waking this morning, I feel much more connected to the real you-the one that slowly started going away years ago.  Maybe I got a little glimpse of you in heaven.  I know you are in your full capacity there, enjoying every "day", "moment"-even though time is not measured there-or maybe it is and it just goes on forever and ever, each day as bright and wonderful as the last.  I can't wait.  I love you mom and miss you every single day.

Absence

Well, it happened last night.  I dreamed about Christmas, as I often do.  We were all there as a family, making a feast-there were even these cool mini-zucchinis that looked like baby carrots-random.  It was festive and decorative and alive with people, except you weren't there, mom.  First dream where you were absent.  I hate that.  I had hoped that I could interract with you still in my dreams.  They have been so vivid these past years but now with your passing, even that has ended.  Again, I hate it.  Instead, there was some strange air force friend of dad's who was bossing everyone around and rearranging our living room and kitchen cabinets and I was so angry at him for intruding on our family time.  Then I saw the advent calendar-remember, mom?  The one you so carefully made with all the little colored birdies-we each had our favorite color.  It was there, in the living room with all these delicate chains hanging off of it and I was fingering them, and thinking about you.  And you were not there.  I dread Christmas this year without you.  I know it is about Jesus and I know it will be beautiful and special because of Him, but you always made it magical for us and I will miss your presence more than you know.

Remembrances

It is difficult for me to remember you, mom.  Not because I can't, but because it hurts so much to do so.  It reminds me of the incredible loss of not having you in this world with me anymore.  I had so many dreams and plans for us but God had a better plan-He wanted you with Him and you are much better off.  I am glad.  But it is already fading-your passing, your funeral.  I do not want you to fade-ever.  So here goes with just a few of my memories of you, not what other people have told me or what I have seen in pictures, but what I remember:

You and I playing tennis, laughing so hard we could not breathe-making fun of ourselves because we looked like we were catching butterflies.

You getting your black glove caught on my braces in church and then us busting out laughing when the organist dropped the hymnal on the organ during the prayer.  You were always so proprietous in church but this undid even you.

You cutting my grapefruit for me every morning in high school and me hearing you and dad pray for me each day when I walked down the hall-made me so mad in my rebellious state but gee, thanks so much, mom.  I sure needed it.

You patiently helping me sew when I would get so upset and pitch a fit because I had no patience at all.  I still see your fingers running the fabric through the machine.  Your sweet little fingers.

You coming into the living room when I had broken up with a boyfriend and was distraught, rocking away my sorrows listening to "Tragedy" by the Bee Gees.  You looking so lost saying that you wished you could make it better.  I get it now.

You picking me up from school because I just walked out because my friends were being mean.

You dressing up as Mary Poppins for our youth group Halloween party.

The choir parties you always let me come to- "behind the barn he doth lurkey".

Singing with you in choir-"There'll be angels singing everywhere, their voices fill the evening air."  I still remember it.

You crying when I bought my first Black Sabbath Album.  I threw it away.

You getting a yellow pollen mustache from smelling the flower a little too closely at Campbells.  "The perennial with the yellow mustache."  Only we will know, mom.

Us hearing the myna bird in Fox's-"wee, wee, wee, wee, wee, wee, wee"-up and down the scale.  We laughed so hard.  We laughed a lot together, mom.  I am so glad.  Not everyone knew your funny, silly side.  But I did.

You making the frozen macaroon ice cream treats in the cupcake holders that I loved so much.  You knew all our favorite foods.  You made life magical, mom.

Dancing

Hey mommy-What is it like in heaven? I wish I could talk with you and know. I asked God to tell you "hi" last night. I miss you so much. We were all with you to usher you into Jesus' presence. It was both a horrifying and holy moment. We all layed our hands on you and talked with you. I think you knew we were there. It was the best it could have been but it still stinks. It is not the way it was ever supposed to be. I don't like being in this world without you.

Final Moments

Hi Mom- there are so many memories of you scattered about in my head.  They all got the memo that you are no more on this earth and decided to visit me.  It is a gift.  I think that while a person is alive, we do not need their memories, because we have them.  When they go, the memories flood in to take their place.  At least that is what is happening to me.  I want to relate some of the sweet moments of your passing and then memories that have come my way in the past week since you have been gone.

You telling us "I love you all so much" while crying-one week before you went.  Those were the last words I heard you speak and I will treasure them always.

You lying in bed, gasping for air, parched for water, while we sponged you, sang to you, prayed with you, massaged you, turned you, wetted your lips, put vaseline and lotion on you and tried every other possible thing to keep you comfortable in a desperate situation.

Dad kissing you and calling you "mama" and his tender grief-Jeff says he has been cut in two.  That describes it so well.

The grandgirls coming in at various intervals to sing to you and pray with you.

Elise and I singing you to heaven-that last day-together and seperatly-did you sing with us in your spirit?

Jeff and I setting our alarms to get up in the middle of the night to turn you-you had NO wounds on your body-we took good care of you, mom.  We love you that much.

Your almost-shut eyes, milky, roaming and then at the end-opening up big as day, dark, aware-searching for dad's face, then Jesus'.  You trying to talk.  What would you have said?  It must be glorious.

All 10 of us on your bed and around, saying our final good-byes, urging you on to go be with Jesus and free of pain, telling you we would be ok, that we  were all there with you to the very end.  Your last breath.

Elise and I curling your hair-for the very last time-so you would look good-it was important to you.

Me asking "what do we do without her?"  and Annett answering "you love each other."  Yep, we will.

Dad telling you that you would always be in his heart and relating all your memories together.  He loved you well-until the bitter end.  He loves you still.

There are so many other memories and thoughts I have that are not for publication.  Even these seem to much.  If I ever thought anyone read my blog, I would not post them.  Some things are for family only.

Your beautiful celebration ceremony:  Cindy surprising me by showing up, picking out your "Trenton" casket (you would LOVE this), burritos with dad, Jeff, Elise-all of us feeling a little lost-singing "Soon and Very Soon"-we kept our composure, seeing the limos pull up and not wanting to have them there-seeing the hearse and not wanting it to take you away-seeing your sweet face for the last time and not wanting to not ever see it again-seeing your casket with the beautiful pink and purple flowers that all of the girls picked out for you and not wanting them to put my mommy in the ground-realizing that you are gone, dancing with Jesus and around the throne, that we don't have to worry about you any longer-you are safe, free, at peace.  But I still want to see you, and don't really want to live the rest of this life without you in the world. 

Jeff, Elise and I playing Songburst and chasing everyone else out of the room with our obnoxious singing.

Oh mom, what a family you have raised-you were the family flagship, as Jeff said.  We are all a little lost without you.

Passing

You are going, mom. I am home. I walked into your room and saw your fragile form lying on the bed and I knew we did not have long. It is hard-to be in this house, with you yet not with you. You are everywhere-your paintings, cross stitch pictures, your plate collection, crystal, piano, pictures, sewing-everything, everywhere. It is all you-your house-the house you and dad built and you made a home. But you are not here-just your form. You did not recognize me but burst into a huge smile and then tears when you saw Rachel. Something about your grandkids touches deep places in your heart. Dad said he loved you and you said "I love you all so much." And then you went away again. You are barely eating and drinking-we syringe Gatorade into your mouth and try to shove some food in but it is rather barbaric. Why are we trying so hard to keep you here? Dad said it best: we are selfish. I told you it was ok for you to go-to go be with Jesus, and see Gram and Gramps and maybe Ves and Eva. God knows. I told you we would follow you there-save a place for us at the banquet table. Elise gave her permission before she left as well. I think you are waiting for Jeff before you go-there are some loose ends there-years of loose ends. I am praying he can talk with you. Then maybe you will feel free to fly away home. It is hard to watch you in this condition-so hard to see someone you love starve to death. It is hard to be with you and not with you. To be in your house, surrounded by evidences of your love-ghost house. It is hardest to see dad-to see his heart breaking and the depth to which he misses you already.

Inheritance

Christina was talking about her last memory of you as you today. She said it was when we were watching Madagascar and the song "move it" was on and you got up and started dancing. I am so glad my girls have those memories of you-the "improper" ones of you displaying your inner goofball for all to see. I know she is there because I know you well but you so often hid her for fear of not being proprietous(how I despise that word and even more what it stands for). Rachel said she remembered you and Gramps playing Wii golf. That was only 2 Christmases ago. I can't believe it, mom. Like Christina so aptly and sadly put it: "It is strange how quickly people can go away." You have gone away mom. You go a little further each day. One more way we can't reach you and you can't reach us. We are both trying: to reach each other. It is a frustrating game we play. But I am so thankful my girls have these memories and so many others of you. You were always so particular about saving things for your grandkids, making sure they got things that belonged to you and to your parents-you did not want to be forgotten by them. I don't think you ever realized that what they would remember about you would never be your things but so many moments like the ones mentioned above. They will never forget you-not Sammy Squirrel or silly songs, dances and sewing, painting and piano, jokes and your fake anger at dad's irreverent jokes when secretly you were laughing inside-your cooking and goodies and the way you made everything magical and every booboo better. Your songs about Jesus, favorite verses, passion for the Jews, stories about your family and our ancestors. So many things-none tangible, but all unforgettable-like you will be, soon, mom. You are part of us and always will be. Christina is just now playing the piano like a wild woman-just like you used to. She loves Chopin just like you. Rachel is painting her dresser right this moment with your old paints-she is an artist just like you. They both have you in them-the best part-your heart for Jesus. Now THAT is an inheritance. I love you, mom.

Fly Away

Hi Mommy- I don't think I have you for long. I think you are going away very soon. You are having a hard time swallowing-one of the last things to go. My heart is oh so sad and heavy for you. I just want you to be free-to fly away home to Jesus where you can rest and be at peace. I don't want this for you but God has seen fit to keep you here for His purposes and I know they are always good and right. I am not ready to lose you. I do not want you to stay like this so fly, mom, but not until the girls and I come in a few weeks. Can we see you once more, please? Can we talk with you and pray with you and make you laugh and hear your voice? I am selfish. I just want one more time. Then you can fly away home, mommmy.

Void

I dreamed about you again last night, mom. This time it was not good. This time I am hoping God is not speaking to me in my dreams, for you were gone. We were all at the table for some holiday-all the family together-and everyone knew, except me. Dad told me and I burst into tears. I could not control my crying. I was gasping for air. It was so real. Then I had to tell the girls. I saw the look of sadness on Jeff's face and I kept wondering what was going to happen now. Then suddenly you were at the table, in your purple sweatsuit and you were reclining on me and you told me you loved me. It was amazing. Maybe it was our table in heaven. I know this is coming, and sooner than later. I want you to go, mom, go be with Jesus, be free of this nasty disease and all its constraints. But I don't want to lose you-at all. It is a conundrum. I want you to go for your sake, I want you to stay for mine. I know when you go, there will be a void here on this earth. Not only an entire history will be wiped out, but my lovely mom will be gone. You are already gone in so many ways-the grieving has been gradual-but I can still hear your voice. I am not ready for you to miss Rachel's wedding, Christina's graduation, your great-grandbabies. Not ready at all for you to not be here anymore-even in your confined state. I still want to tell you my stories, even if you do not respond. I still want to hear you say "I love you." Maybe that was why it was in my dream. I still need that from you. God knows. And I trust Him. His timing is always perfect and His ways are good. I think about you so much. I made banana sticky buns this week-one of your favorites that you passed on to me. I had wished you were here to devour them with me. The girls used your paints and brushes last night to decorate their dressers. You would be so proud that they are getting good use. You were such a terrific artist. I thought about you when I had our Korean students over. How you and dad used to host so many students-all the parties we had and how they all loved you. It must have been so fun and brought you so much joy. I get it, now. You have influenced me so much more than I ever thought. I love you much mom.

Hope

"And hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us." Notice what this verse does NOT say: hope does not disappoint because everything in this life will work out the way we think it should or desperately want it to. Our hope is not anchored on what might be, or what should have been or what could have been had we not screwed it up but only what IS: God's love poured out graciously and abundantly in our hearts. And that is enough. His love. It's enough. I don't need for all of my messy relationships to end up neat and tidy. His love is enough. I don't need to be understood or to understand every misunderstanding. His love is enough. I don't need for people to like me, pursue me, think of me at all. His love is enough. I don't need to right all my wrongs, or even wish God would. His love is enough. That is the anchor of my hope. When I embrace this, I can let go of all the hurts, the anger, the wrongs, the misunderstandings, the assumptions, the regrets, the wishes, the "what ifs", the sadness, the pain....and I can embrace Him, and finally, others. Even the ones who have wounded me most deeply-especially those. If God's love is in my heart and I am to "keep myself in the love of God" and God can "direct our hearts" to His love, and "nothing can separate us from the love of God", then whatever it takes, I am ABLE, through God's power, to love even the betrayer, the wounder, realizing that I, too, am one. I am able to love completely, without reserve, without need for approval from man, without being understood or recognized. I am able to be wounded, and my hope remain intact. I am able to walk through life with much untidyness, being at peace with all men "as far as it depends on me", but at the same time realizing that it may well NOT depend on me and I may NOT always be at peace with all men-even believers, especially believers. And that is ok. I still have hope. God's love does not change and hope does NOT disappoint. I have always thought as a believer, that any uncleared relationships were sinful. At Hope we always had to have all relationships cleared up before we could take the Lord's supper. Well, what if the other person does not want to clear it up? What if they run from you? What if they hide for years? What if God's love, through you, can't get through to them? What if they are on their own path that only God knows and for a time, there won't be peace? Maybe even until heaven? What if THAT happens? It has now happened to me so many times that I am questioning the biblical wisdom of "you should always be at peace and reconciled with your brothers/sisters in Christ." What if you can't be? If that was true, there would be no need for the Romans verse "as far as it depends on you." We are only responsible for OUR part. I can't make someone else be reconciled to me. I can love them to the death. And they can still reject me and rebuff my love. That is THEIR part. This is such a freeing and astounding truth to me. I am free to love and free to walk away, and hope does not disappoint. I can't force people to want to be reconciled. That is the work of the Holy Spirit in their heart. All I can do is do my part and continue to love, even at a distance-if only through prayer. So....for all of you untidy packages in my life, I love you. I really do. I would be your friend this instant if you wanted it. Until that day, even if it is not until we stand before Christ, I will pray for you, and hope in God's love to reach you and speak to your hearts. And no matter the outcome, I won't be diappointed. It's a promise from God.

Nails

My favorite day of the year. The MHMR of the Concho Valley Spring Festival. The day where I get to meet new friends and observe some very special and amazing people-the mentally handicapped. Times have changed so that term is not even PC anymore but to me, they are just people whose minds work in a different way than mine-and I find that totally refreshing. This year Christina and I got the nail painting booth. Best booth of all. As I sat down, I noticed there were rubber gloves at our station. Thinking about painting nails all day and having no idea what types of nails I would come in contact with, I donned the gloves. My first "customer" came. I painted her nails while we chatted. After she left, I looked at my hands, the gloves, the people walking by and it hit me (or God convicted me) that I needed to dispose of the latex barrier-I needed to touch them: every one of them. The gloves came off. As I took each hand in mine that day, I carefully observed the nails: most were yellow, scraggly, half-eaten, completely chewed, split,dirty,

unhealthy nails. Nails were not a priority in their lives. As I carefully took each finger and painted it, I realized what an intimate thing it was-holding their hand in mine-making their nails beautiful-talking to them-making them laugh-listening to their stories-learning about their lives. Each one chose a different color: "red is my favorite color", "I like pink", some just pointed. Each choice unique, like their hearts. Thank you, God, for letting me have a glimpse into their lives through painting their nails.

FREEDOM

What does freedom conjur up in your mind? The ability to do whatever you want? Being released from bondage? Being under the control of no one? Spiritually speaking, we are all under the control of someone: either God or Satan. It is that simple. Spiritual freedom means being released from Satan's control via our flesh and being freed to be a child of God-"for you have not received a spirit of slavery leading to fear again, but you have received a spirit of adoption as sons by which we cry out 'Abba, Father.'" We are free to be God's children-it is not a law, it is a relationship! The spirit of slavery is the law and our complete inability to keep it. "For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has set you free from the law of sin and of death." "For what the law could not do....God did!" The law could not save us, so God did, by sending Jesus. The law could not bring us freedom, so Christ did on the cross. We are freed from our inability to keep the requirements of the law-we now have the Spirit of God indwelling our very being, enabling us to keep the law. But now it is not an act of compulsion or fear but an act of divine love of the One who indwells us and indeed, gives us our very life. James calls it the law of liberty. How can a law be liberating? Isn't the law to restrain us? Hold us back? Deny us things? What exactly is God's law? "The law of the Lord is perfect, restoring the soul." "Bear one another's burdens, and thus fulfill the law of Christ" Gal. 6:2 "Therefore whatever you want others to do for you, do so for the, for this is the Law and the Prophets." Matt. 7:12 "And He said to him, 'You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.' This is the great and foremost commandment. And a second is like it, 'you shall love your neighbor as yourself.' on these tow commandments depend the whole Law and the Prohpets." Matt. 22: 37-40 Wow. Love God and love people-do to others what you would want them to do to you. Bear each other's burdens. Have you ever done that? Has anyone ever done that for you? That, my friend, is true FREEDOM. There is nothing like being filled with God's love to the point that it spills over onto your fellow man-your undeserving enemy, your dearest friend. There is no freedom like the freedom from having to sin-the freedom of the soul to bask in God's forgiveness and be rid of all guilt. It is a small slice of heaven and you simply cannot explain to someone what it is like. They just have to experience it for themselves. Freedom from being bound to a law we can never possibly keep, freedom from the condemnation that comes therein-"There is therefore no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus." Romans 8. Freedom from the punishment that goes along with said condemnation. Jesus took it for us-He bought our freedom. Now we are free to love from a pure heart, free to fear no man, free to forgive our enemies and not be held captive by their hatred, free to love the unlovely, knowing full well that God's love is always enough. Free to do what is good and right-not under compulsion, but out of love for our Redeemer. And we are free to love freely, with no concern for our own welfare or repayment, "For you were called to freedom.......through love, serve one another." Now that is freedom.

Today

I know that 5 years from now, there will probably be an entire neighborhood behind my back fence. But for today, I am going to enjoy the beauty of the trees and field with the sunrise bursting through. I am going to sit on my patio and soak in the view-today. I know that Rachel will probably be married soon and move away for good and I will see her less and less but for today, I am going to be my mom and wave at her as she drives away to school. I am going to relish the smell of her perfume wafting through the house, reminding me of her presence here-today. My mother-in-law is moving in and I have no idea what all that will hold but for today, I am going to enjoy the freedoms I have, Christina asleep in her bed, spending time with her and with Eric and not worry about the rest-today. "Each day has enough troubles of its own." I am going to focus on today's troubles and tackle them one at a time and not worry about all the "what if's", for they may never come. I will enjoy what this day brings-what God sees fit to allow in and be grateful for all He keeps out that I will not know until eternity. Today.

Jesus all by Himself, part 2

We are on such power trips in our culture, and in the world. We rely on our military power, our freedoms, securities. Our heroes are powerhouses-soldiers, great sportsmen, politicians, musicians-all people with power and influence. Jesus had ultimate power and influence. What, exactly did He do with it? He set it aside. He counted it as nothing. He submitted Himself to suffering. Now that has my attention.

"Good Friday reminds us that we are not going to be helped by power, only by God's laying aside his power for love of us. Power forces us to change' only love can move us to change. Power affects behavior' love affects the heart. and nothing on earth so moves the heart as suffering love." Brennan Manning

We get so caught up in legislating morality-trying to change people by force. You can change behavior this way, but never the heart. The heart is what Jesus is all about. Suffering love-such a lovely but lost art. When is the last time you experienced someone give up their rights for you? Even let you in front of them in line? Held a door open for you? Better yet, when have you, or I, done this for someone else? Such small acts. Jesus gave his whole life-the living part and the dying part-for us. Suffering love. What am I willing to suffer so that people can know Him?

In our country, we are all about freedom, capitalism, free enterprise. Brennan Manning calls it the trinitarian god of consumerism, hedonism and nationalism. We worship these things, but these things are not what God values. We are greedy consumers-we must face it. The human heart is insatiable. What am I willing to give up? Even my freedom? No one can take my freedom in Christ. It is all I need. Why do we fight so hard for our freedoms that can be taken away? Why don't we fight for the one that can't? Freedom from sin. Why are we so caught up in politics and the economy? As if these things have ever saved us or ever could. "There is nothing new under the sun." Don't waste your breath-spend yourself for what really counts.

Albert Camus has said: "The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very act of existence is an act of rebellion." There is nothing more maddening to the world than a free man or woman in Christ Jesus. (Brennan Manning). Wow. Think on that. Why are believers maddening? Because they are freed from the constraints that so bind the world: quest for money, power, position, freedom, rights. We can gladly give all these things up and STILL win. That must be maddening. Oh, that all would experience that level of freedom.

On Discipleship: "How did you respond to needy brothers and sisters? This is the reliable measure of discipleship." This was preached in our church this week. This is one of the reasons I love our church-they preach the word, truth, God's opinions-not man's. How do we respond to need? To the hurting? To the lost? To the messy? To the ones that make us uncomfortable?
"The heart of discipleship lies in commitment and worship, not reflection and theory." (Brennan) We are all about learning, studying, analyzing. But what do we do with it? Does it change the way we live? Our day to day actions? Our worship and knowledge of God?

"When a disciple lives his or her life wholly for God, walking hand in hand with Jesus for whom God is everything, the limitless power of the Holy Spirit is unleashed. God breaks through, miracles occur, the world is renewed, and history is changed."(Brennan) Then he goes on to say something that will ruffle the feathers of all who consider themselves American. Abortion and Nuclear Weapons are two sides of the same coin. Think long and hard about that. One kills babies. One kills everyone else. How can we as Christians stand up against abortion and not against war? Stepping on toes, I know. My dad was in the military. This is heady stuff but it needs to be said. Jesus was all about peace. There is a time for war-but only God's war-only on His terms and led by His army. He has only called us, His believers, to love, peace and the laying down of our lives for others. My oldest daughter went so far as to say if someone broke in and attacked her, she would not kill them if she could-they may not know Christ-she would not want them to die and go to hell-she would rather die, knowing full well where she is headed. Now, that is Jesus' love-right there.

I wrote in a facebook note about the beautiful Dominique Voillaume. I will not relate his story here but it had me weeping. This man knew how to love like Jesus. "His simple witness lay in accepting others as they were without questions and allowing them to make themselves at home in his heart." (Brennan) Oh my goodness. Lovely. Make themselves at home in his heart? I could chew on those words for a long time. What, exactly does that look like? The woman at the well? The leper Jesus touched? The woman with 12 years of bleeding (read the Jewish laws on uncleanness)? The woman caught in adultery? The disciples, even Judas the betrayer? All made themselves at home in Jesus' heart-His HEART-the seat of all love! Such a beautiful concept. I want that so much. To have people feel that they have a home in my heart-no matter what baggage they bring along. Oh my.

Dominique never tried to impress anybody' never wondered if his life was useful or his witness meaningful. He never felt he had to do something great for God. (Brennan) "If God wants it to, my life will be useful through my word and witness. If he wants it to, my life will bear fruit through my prayers and sacrifices. But the usefulness of my life is his concern, not mine. It would be indecent of me to worry about that." (Dominique). Indecent. When I concern myself with the usefulness of my life-it is indecent. To even consider it is self-focused. This man had seven thousand people attend his funeral. His life was indeed useful and he was not even aware.

Lastly, "There are certain questions every Christian must answer in utter candor. Do you hunger for Jesus Christ? Do you yearn to spend time alone with him in prayer? Is he the most important person in your life? Does he fill your sould like a song of joy? Is he on your lips as a shout of praise? Do you eagerly turn to his memoirs, his Testament, to learn more of him? Are you making the effort to die daily to antying and everything that inhibits, threatens, or diminishes your friendship? The call of Jesus,is not 'Come to a prayer meeting', but 'come to ME.'

Jesus all by Himself-part one

God, why do we always try to add to you? Why is the Great I AM not enough for us? What do we possibly think we can bring to the holy table of your amazing grace and sacrifice? "In my hands no prize I bring, simply to Thy cross I cling." What more could we ever do than has been done on the cross? "It is finished". That says it all. Jesus, I want to know YOU-only YOU. Not religion, or good deeds or morality or laws or rules or even other people or ideas about You, just You-in your lovliness and glory and completeness. Can I have that? Can I just have YOU? All else is emptiness-utter worthlessness, even my own life-especially my own life.


The Signature of Jesus, by Brennan Manning

"To follow Jesus is to take the high road to Calvary. Littered along the Calvary road will lie the skeletons of our egos, the corpses of our fantasies of control and the shards of self-righteousness, self-indulgent spirituality and unfreedom."

Let's unpack that for just a minute. The road to Calvary is the road to death. Jesus bids us come and die-follow Him to death. That is not a comfortable, easy existance, but it is glorious. Every word in the above statement has to do with trash and death: littered, skeletons, corpses, shards. What we think is our commitment to Christ and the Christian life is trash. It is self and self is what we must die to. Reminds me of Paul:

"But whatever things were gain to me, those things I have counted as loss of the sake of Christ. More than that, I count all things to be loss in view of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them but rubbish in order that I may gain Christ, and may be found in Him, not having a righteousness of my own derived from the Law, but that which is through faith in Christ, the righteousness which comes from God on the basis of faith, that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection and the fellowhip of His sufferings, being conformed to His death in order that I may attain to the resurrection from the dead."

That sounds a lot like death-loss, rubbish, suffered, sufferings. Paul says whatever things were gain to Him. What things are gain to me that God is calling me to die to? My own righteousness (derived from keeping the law), my reputation (Paul was a zealot among Pharisees), my physical well-being (Paul suffered stonings, beatings, hunger), my freedom (Paul was imprisoned multiple times), my own agenda (Paul was relentless with preaching the gospel-he did little else). For me lately, God has called me to give up money, time, sleep, my rights to let others know how they have hurt me-nothing like Paul, but hard nonetheless. And I am sensing Him leading me to even greater sacrifices-things I have held dear for a long time. Am I willing? My prayer right now is "Lord, make me willing." For I know that even the willingness to be willing is from Him-His work of faith. Even that small thing, I cannot bring-I do not have. I have nothing.

"We have to abandon the cankerous, worm-eaten structure of legalism, moralism, and perfectionism, that corrupts the Good News into an ethical code rather than a love affair."

Who, if given the choice, would choose to keep a check-list of do's and don'ts when you could enter into the most amazing love affair of your life? Who would do that? Yet, that is exactly what we do when we make it about keeping rules instead of loving our Law Giver. When you love someone, and love them madly, it is so much easier to want to please them and do what makes them glad. Our main problem is not with our sin so much as not loving our Savior.

Prayer from a Pastor in Zimbabwe-he clearly loved his Savior with a passion I only hope to have someday:

"I won't look back, let up, slow down, back away or be still. I no longer need preeminence, prosperity, position, promotions, plaudits or popularity. I don't have to be right, first, tops, recognized, praised, regarded, or rewarded. I now live by faith, lean in his presence, walk by patience, am uplifted by prayer and I labor with power. My face is set, my gait is fast, my goal is heaven, my road is narrow, my way rough, my companions are few, my Guide reliable, my mission clear. I cannot be bought, compromised, detoured, lured away, turned back, deluded or delayed. I won't give up, shut up, let up, until I have stayed up, stored up, prayed up, paid up, preached up for the cause of Christ. I am a disciple of Jesus. I must go till he comes, give till I drop, preach till all know and work till he stops me."

Can I get an AMEN???????.....to be continuted

Cabin Fever

Hi Mom- It is hitting me so hard today-all the facets of loss. I am thinking about the cabin and realizing that you will never, ever be able to go there with us again. I have known that for a while but it just settled on my heart today. It makes me so sad. We have had such good times there and made so many memories and it will never be the same without you. Another facet: not only will we not be able to enjoy it with you, but maybe not dad again, either. He does not want to leave you right now even though you have good care. I understand and I appreciate his loyalty to you but it breaks my heart for him, and us. You both loved that place so much and even last year, we could still get you there in your wheelchair. That has all changed now. So....here goes.....remember?

Waking up and having our early morning coffee on the deck-47 degrees. You wrapped in a robe with 2 sweaters over you and a blanket-me in my T-shirt. "Aren't you cold, Cindy K."? "No, mom, it feels so good to me, I have to soak it up to take back to Texas with me." You chuckling at me like I am crazy. Listening to the jays, nuthatches, grossbeaks. Watching the squirrels coming for their morning feed. Sky so blue, air so clean, such a scent of pine-so peaceful. Dad inspecting the bear damage, seeding the birds and filling the hummer feeders.

Going to the stream with the girls-sitting by it in our fold out camp chairs while they play-damming up the stream with rocks, screaming at the cold water and getting splashed-getting each other wet. You and I, talking, about everything, sometimes doing an acrostic, sometimes crosstitching, always talking. I miss that so much.

Lazy afternoons on the deck-watching the girls swing in the swing dad and Jeff built for them. Doing a puzzle, being ever so careful not to drop the pieces through the slats, Iced tea and lunch-dad napping in his chair-us once again talking, always talking. Can it get any better than this?

Taking hikes in the evening-you and dad telling me everything about everyone that lives in Rye-family history-gramps' stories-looking for deer, bears, foxes, skunks. Watching the dusk-the alpin glow-feeling the cool come on and the darkness.

Coffee again or tea, on the deck, the stars peeping out one by one-making their glittery appearance. I swear the sky is simply blanketed with them up there. Thinking we hear animals and flashing the flashlight to make sure. Looking all around for bears and getting creeped out.

Inside-playing games for hours-Phase 10 or Hearts or Sorry or Catch Phrase or whatever else we had up there. Watching all of Anne of Green Gables, or Winds or War or some other amazing Hallmark movie. Popping popcorn and having Mint Chocolate Chip Ice Cream.

Praying with the girls before bed, telling them Sammy Squirrel, listening to them giggle in their room.

The night we sat out back with Jeff (you were not here for this) and rubbed our arms across the table, watching with admiration the static electricity light show that danced before our eyes. We were so enthralled-a 19 year old, 15 year old, 47 year old and 52 year old alike. I will never forget that night.

Listening to Christmas music as we watched it snow outside, eating icicles, sledding, hot chocolate with marshmallows, more games, movies-Red Boots and Wallace and Grommit. The girls being buried in the snow and in their winterwear.

Cooking dinner in the kitchen-always a team effort-bringing it all out on the deck cuz who wants to be inside when you have such an outside?

Mom-I will carry all this and so much more in my heart the rest of my days. You made it so special and when I am up there now with my family, I will try to do the same. I love you and miss you so much.

7D

God, I was not ready for that news. I have known it in my heart for a long time but to hear it said out loud was crushing. Mom has been evaluated by hospice and declared a level 7d of Alzheimer's. This is out of stages 1-7, levels a-e. There is only one level to go. Is it bad for me to pray she never gets there? Is it wrong to hope that before the level where she is all but a vegetable, she will find herself safe in the arms of Jesus, free of pain, healed? That is what I want for her-relief and release. She still knows us, can still smile, can still communicate a bit. I can't imagine more of her being gone. Please, no more levels.

Remember

I had another dream about you last night, mom. I am trying to get it down here as quickly as I can before I forget. We were at your "place", out back, on a deck, overlooking a pretty river/pond. I asked why you and dad never came out there. You did not answer me. You were alert, talkative, upright, dressed nicely-we were having a nice conversation. You said something sad, can't remember what. I told you there would not be days like that in heaven and that you only had a little time to wait. You hugged me. We stood there and were friends again-communicative ones. It was great. Then I switched gears to a space dream as I often do. I bet Freud would have a good time with that. I was backstage of some play creating huge sun fireballs-it was so unrealistic but so real at the same time-just like you being whole. I thank God that I can still interract with you lucidly in my dreams. It is a sweet gift, mom, and someday in heaven-there will not be dreams. It will all be real. I love you.

Faith, not sight

When we walk by faith, it means we live and act like God is real. He is there and will keep His promises, provide, come through, act, answer our prayers, even if we don't see it or experience it-especially if we don't see it. Faith, not sight. So I give money I don't have in my bank account. Dumb? Or faith? I go minister to someone when I am barely holding it together, trusting the Holy Spirit to give me the words I just cannot come up with on my own. Lack of preparation? Or faith? I send my daughter into a hostile country, with deathly transportation, to live in a village with disease-in a very disease-ridden household, in the middle of nowhere-but God is there. Foolishness? Or faith? If faith is the conviction of things not seen, why do we always have to see first, then act? Why don't we jump off the cliff more often, fully expecting God to catch us? What would life look like if we did? Dang exciting!!! THEN we would "see" God-in His full glorious action-AFTER we leap-THEN we see!!!! Like Frances Chan said "we live in such a way that even if God does not come through, everything will work out." NO!!!!! The ONLY way for it to work out is if God comes through. If He does not, we have not risked-and that is sight, not faith. God, enable me to live this way. Grant me opportunities day by day to jump off the cliff. And yes, I am aware of what I am asking. I am asking for a scary life-in the world's eyes-I am asking for uncomfortable situations and the anticipation of things I cannot see, and uncertainty in everything this world is about but You ARE certainty-I AM. You are able to keep me from falling, to present me blameless, to meet all my needs, to fill me up, strengthen me, cause me to stand, uphold me, bless me, keep me,hold me up by your hand, pour love into me so I have some to give to others, keep Your promises, prove my trust. Give me a heart of risk-to not demand to "see"-to not live as if I can possibly plan it all out and have it all fall into place apart from You.

ATX forever

Back to Austin for about the 20th time at least since we moved over a year ago. As we wind our way around 71, I get that same old longing deep in the pit of my stomach-a longing for home: the cedar smell, the brown slowly turning to green, the limestone appearing. Then we hit Lakeway and it all comes back to me: the views, the beauty, the food, the folks, the fun, our life. I have to remind myself that my life is "hidden with Christ in God" and not in Austin, Tx. It is hard. I love this place so much-it is so much a part of me and me of it. It resonates with me in so so many ways unlike any other place I have lived. We enter Steiner and it always gets quiet. Home, but not home anymore. Part of my heart is still here but not as much. So many memories leap out at me from behind trees, cul-de-sacs, bends in the road, houses of people we know, trails we walked, places we biked and swam and had coffee and wine and ice cream. Memories of our sweet life here-thank you, God-our life of growing up and innocence, like Christina said-before all of "it" happened. I drive around town like I still own it-know all the back roads by heart-take my friend down my favorite street, Rosedale, where all the storybook houses are-where I lived so much of my life for so many years-yeah, I know this place: Pacha, Austin School of Classical Ballet, Feats of Clay, Phoenician Bakery, Half Price, Upper Crust. Upper Crust. I walk in, smell the coffee/bread/cinnamon combination and my eyes flood with tears. Will I always long for this? SO many memories: laughing with my girls-making people stare at us, devouring cupcakes before ballet, spring rolls with my sis and my niece and nephews, meeting friends over coffee, people watching, tortilla and lentil soup with Rachel before ballet, doing school with both girls. A homeless man with huge plastic sacks of cans rides up on his bike: yes! Typical Austin-I love and miss my homeless friends so much. Knew so many of them by name. On to Central Market-I walk into the produce section and want to just do a happy dance all over the place: so many varieties of fruits and vegetables. My peeps-healthy, hippy, Austinites all over the place. I smell the apples-used to smell them all-every species. I hand pick my strawberries and text Rachel that I am in this place we know and love so well. She texts me back to shut up because she craves it! Down the bulk isles-remembering how I used to love choosing treats to take home to the fam on a Friday night-I would drop Rachel at ballet, go to CM and pick up yummy dinner and treats and go home for family movie night. One of the best memories in my head. The last time we passed our house, Rachel said "mom, I would just give anything to go in there and watch a movie all together like we used to on Friday nights." Me, too. I drive down the drag-look at all the funkyness and realize why I feel so out of place where I am. I am funky. I am weird. I love uniqueness and strangeness and distinctiveness and my lovely city has all that. I remember the Continental with Cindy, playing ping pong and laughing so hard-and the Snack Bar and Matt's (membah?). Ate at Torchy's Tacos this time-a new place. Items on the menu like fried avocado tacos, Trashy Trailor and Nookies-creative. I love that. Driving out of town, on our way home. We stop to drive around the lake-by our favorite 2 mil. dollar houses-the lake has all but disappeared and I stand and stare. So many memories there,too. Our boat, Oasis, drives around the lake-Christina and I with the windows down, hands out, bellowing out praise music-watching the sunset. I think Rachel was away at camp for the first time and we were lonely. We take a few pics for posterity then head off over Mansfield Dam. I said "Christina, I have 2 memories of that dam and I bet you have the same 2". Yep, she did. Back through Lakeway and onto 71 again. We are quiet. My heart is heavy. Christina falls asleep and I try to blink back the tears at leaving.

The Dark Night

This is it, God, isn't it? The dark night of the soul where everything I have leaned on is wrenched away until all I have is naked trust. I am terrified. Of what? Of pain for me or of displeasing You? O God, I hope it is fear of displeasing you but I am far less noble than that. I am wallowing in my own filth and sorrow. I am afraid of the hatred in my heart and of being disqualified from Your kingdom and of losing some things I love dearly. If you need to take them, then do. If it means I can know You more-take my church, my friends, even my family, if it will bring me closer to you. Desperate-that is what I was in my closet last night when I was faced with my epic failure to love.....and the victory Satan was having at that moment. All I could do was cry "help me, God", over and over and over. This is a dark night. But I know joy comes in the morning. I think I am also afraid of the night being too long.

Better

Dear Mom-I dreamed about you again the other night. They are so vivid, these dreams. I was in the bathroom and we were getting you ready for bed-you were in the bedroom and all of a sudden you were all over the place-flopping around, standing, walking, it was crazy. I was so afraid you would fall-your mind was still not good but your body was its old self. You were not healed, but better. Then it flashed to outdoors, a tree, you walking, holding onto Jeff's arm-then he turned into dad-but you walking, stiffly, unevenly, but walking nonetheless. You had a nice pants suit on like you used to wear-and you were not healed, but better. I think part of the grief of this disease is that here on this earth, you will never be better. Some days are better than others but it is always a downhill slide and I hate that. You get better-my hope soars-my hear rises-then I remember that it will not last. I have to remind myself to adjust my focus-to look ahead to heaven-where you will be, not better, but HEALED.

Just One More

Every day I get to talk to you is one more....one more time I get to hear your voice, to have you say "love you, honey", to recognize who I am, to listen to stories about my day....one more. That is all I want every day.

Houses and Life

We are settled into our house in San Angelo, yet not settled at all-not our hearts. I can't help comparing this house to our house in Austin but it is not a fair comparison. A house is not a building, it is a lifetime and Austin was a different lifetime-our house in Austin housed my growing children-our homeschool times together, Catalis, our boat, ODA and BSF and Awana and church, Mother-Daughter bake days, Ballet and Choir-all the things that are no more. I can't duplicate it here-don't even want to. It is yet to be seen what this house will contain-it will be different-one child is gone, another much older. We still do school but not in the same way-we have different activities, different lives, it will be filled with different people. I have to tell myself it is not better or worse, just different. But Austin house will always hold a special place in my heart-it is where my kids grew up-where we made memories by the bucketload-every day-as fast as we could and now they are spilling over in my mind like a flood.

Time

Dear Mom- Looking back at Christmas pictures from just one year ago and realizing how much can change in one short year. Last year you were standing, walking, playing Wii, smiling, interracting. You looked happy, enjoying your family. This year what a difference. You can't walk, can't feed yourself, don't communicate much. We will never again have Christmas in the basement-you can't get down there anymore. You still smile sometimes, occasionally laugh but many days don't track at all. What in the world happened in one short year? One year ago you were in the hospital for a broken hip-that was the beginning of the end. At least a couple of strokes sneaked in and stole parts of you during that time and the recovery time and the time beyond. You are still there-but a shell. This year seems like just a day. And yesterday you were still you.