Not abandoned

We heard a soul searching sermon yesterday at church. What part of our heart have we not given completely to God? I like to think that I am good with God, but realized yesterday that I have been harboring a fair amount of Job like anger and distrust of Him and His purpose and plan for me. Us. It has been hard to pray about our situation without sometimes feeling as full of as much spiritual poison as chemo poison. Last night, while pondering how I could apply the sermon to my life, I read 2 Corinthians 1:8-11. It goes like this: "I think you ought to know, dear brothers and sisters, about the trouble we went through in the province of Asia. We were crushed and completely overwhelmed, and we thought we would never live through it. In fact, we expected to die. But as a result, we learned not to rely on ourselves, but on God who can raise the dead. And he did deliver us from mortal danger. And we are confident that he will continue to deliver us." I realized I was not giving God my whole heart. Not for a long time. It had become hard and bitter in the places where I needed Him the most. He is speaking to me about trust and faith and love, and I am turning away. Yet, I am in mortal danger, and He is my only hope. I am not abandoned, or doomed. I am loved, I will be raised to life. Open up, o heart, and sing again.

Poolside

It was a lovely day to swim in the pool. When I arrived there this morning, the water was glassy, the chairs empty. I was the only one there, and drifted in the perfectly clear, perfect temperature water for some relaxing minutes, enjoying my private reverie. Then I began to long for the click of the gate, and friendly footsteps of family bringing fried chicken, potato salad, a little red headed girl. I was lonely for laughter, and music, and silly splashy pool games. The empty chairs held the promise of a glorious afternoon, but no one was expected and no one came. I ate Collette's stale goldfish quietly and drank my iced tea, knitting,  remembering family days this summer. We had many of them, each one filled to the brim with the things that make life so wonderful, the joys of loving and being loved. I imagined them back to life, and was restored by the memories. Our lives, so close, so far, moving so fast, taking the time to slow down. Each goldfish cracker was a testament to car rides and bike rides and walks to the park. Each empty pool chair held a wet towel, swimmies, mommy and little girl shoes. I looked up at the clouds and felt the sun, and heard the laughter, and loved the life I am in. So full, so loved, so blessed.

Good Haircut, Part Two

For the second time in 4 years, my hair has fallen out. The first time, I was astonished at the process, mourned my loss, and over the months of baldness, developed a fondness for tiedyed bandanas, handknit and newsboy style caps. I had a wig that I detested, it was a style cut that was too old for me, and the color was a washed out blonde...but it was only $18 and hey, I wasn't going to need it long. I sold it 2 years ago, gratefully saying goodbye to a time in my life that I was glad to be past. Now I am here again, no longer astonished, but still mournful, unsure if I will ever have real hair on my head again. I remember well meaning cancer survivors coming up to me in my bandana days, offering me hope and encouragement, a promise of healthy future when those days passed. I am not in that healthy future, yet, and my vanishing hair is evidence of that. So I have a better wig now, one that matches the hair color of my youth, with highlights. And without the pesky waves. I will wear it all the time, because I don't want the brave cancer survivors thinking I am a newbie, and finding out the scary truth. I will keep my happy face, because I want to, I need to, I have to. When you see me, see the fight, not the wig. It still is my hair, paid dearly for, after all.

Vantage Point

One look at the newspaper today, and one could think things couldn't get much worse on our blue planet. This then poses a familiar question...why does God allow suffering? Lately I heard the best response to this question...why do we? It would seem that most of the suffering we read about today is a direct result of mankind's unkindness, not God's. Our indifference to others, our closed circles of influence, our metered kindness unbalances the world, and sets dangerous and dark sequences into motion. Sequences that lead to stealing, killing and destroying. Shining light on suffering, and bringing relief to those who suffer, sets another sequence into motion, one of redemption, hope and, ultimately, love. From this vantage point, it is easy to see that one person, deciding to bring relief to another person's suffering, for even one hour, would create a dynamic that would bring balance back into the world. For the relief of suffering would extend not just to the one person, but also to their family, friends and community.  What would happen on our blue planet if each one of us decided that this would be the last day that we would close our eyes to the suffering of someone else, that starting tomorrow we would make it our business to relieve that suffering, even for one hour.  Show me who, God, show me how. Everyday, it will get better for us all.

No Reason Not To

Life has lots of hoops, hurdles, detours to jump through, over and around. Over time, we get tired and come up with reasons not to do things, or even hope for things. We might have reasons why we should keep doing and hoping, but the reason not to seems more powerful, ominous, even if more abstract and unnamed. It stops us before we start, this unnamed reason, because it sets us onto a path of fear and anxiety. We can't see where it goes, we don't know how long it will take, we hear growls in the forest and imagine wild beasts ready to tear us apart. This is the opposite of the way we are instructed to think about things in the Bible. We are instructed to put our hope in God, to not worry about our lives, to think about good reports. We have no reason not to hope for God to bless us, to help us, to heal us, to save us, to deliver us from imaginary wild beasts. We have no reason not to hope that the cancer will go away, that we will have enough money to stay independent, that our children will be successful, that we will be useful to others. We can look back at how far we have come, the hoops and hurdles jumped, the detours navigated, the blessings from every event in our lives that opened us up to people and places that have inspired and encouraged us. We have no reason not to hope, only reasons to keep hoping, in a God who loves us all.

Amy1

I have another friend in heaven today. She actually went there yesterday. She was 36 earth years old. Sometimes having friends younger than you does not guarantee that they will outlive you, and you may still have to deal with the hole that is left in your life when they are gone. She and I had the same doctor, and almost the same disease. She was brave and funny and full of faith. Sometimes we would talk on the phone late at night and she was not so brave, or funny, or full of faith. That's what made her wonderful and a good friend to me. We could take off our happy faces and look squarely at the reality of our situation, wrestle it to the ground together, and keep going. It makes things easier when you have a friend like that. She was able to be that friend for many people at the same time, but I would be glad to be able to be that friend even just for one other person. She left so many gifts for those of us who knew her that it will be a long time before we fully realize that she is not with us still. Maybe we don't have to miss her so much, maybe we can just open the card again, as if we just received it in the mail, and read the sweet inscription. We can put the ribbons in our hair that she gave us, and buy the biggest ice cream cone we can find and lick every tasty drop and hear her laugh. Save me a cupcake, Amy, one with vanilla icing.

Friends Younger than You

I did a stint for my company visiting folks on Medicare, assessing their health needs and how to best address them, whether financial, physical, or emotional. I learned 3 things that seemed to me to be vitally important to being healthy during our senior lives. Number one is to have friends younger than you. If you don't, then, as your friends start to die, you will be left sadly alone. If you do, then you will be continually stimulated by these younger ones facing life challenges, and may even be important to them as a guide and encourager as they travel the path behind you. We have such friends in Chuck and Donna. They are just beginning the journey of empty nest, as their son heads off to college next month. We listened to them talk about the financial burden of tuition, the challenge of impressing their son with the need to get a job, manage his work/student life, get good grades, plan for his future. They also have a new puppy, so we knew their anxiety of a losing a member of their tight knit family to the big world. It was a blessing to talk about this journey, so different than the one we are currently on, full of hope and promise, goals set and life tasks accomplished. We are grateful to have passed through that time successfully, and can encourage them. We can be encouraged to set our own goals, too, full of hope and promise for the road ahead.