Arrival

Following is a paragraph I wrote on a sleepless night last summer.

I imagine when a person enters Heaven, it is similar to when a baby is born here on Earth. Family and friends are preparing for the new arrival. They know the time is drawing near, but don’t know the exact moment when their loved one will appear. Just as we on earth prepare for a baby’s arrival from the moment me know it’s on the way, so do all the hosts in Heaven when word of a loved one’s impending arrival is announced. The excitement grows as the time draws closer. It seems as though the day will never arrive. Then suddenly the moment is at hand. The gates burst open and all rush forward for the long anticipated reunion. Just as on earth we marvel at a newborn’s tiny fingers and toes, so in Heaven, all are in awe of the new glorified body God has given the latest arrival. 

The Valley of the Shadow of Death

A while back, I read a quote that said “grief is like staring at a dark shadow and failing to see the abundant light behind me.”  It made me think of the verse in the 23^rd Psalm about walking through the valley of the shadow of death.

Anyone who has ever lost a loved one has walked through that valley. Yet the valley is different for everyone and for every loss.  Some valleys are short with a relatively straight path. Others are long, with many paths to choose from. Some people run quickly through the valley. Others take slow, deliberate steps. Some wander around, walking in circles. Still others sit down and stay awhile. There isn’t a right or wrong amount of time to spend there.  Sometimes you feel like you are on the right path and nearing the exit, only to find the path twists back deeply into the valley once again. Yes, each valley is different, but they each have something in common as well: shadows. That is the nature of valleys.

As we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, it isn’t the valley itself that we fear.  It’s the dark shadows that reside there that bring us pain.  After all, they are the shadows of death.  Each shadow reminds us of what we have lost. We’ve lost the one we held so dear. We’ve lost the chance to ask the questions and say the things we should have said. We’ve lost the person who could always make us laugh. We’ve lost the person who would always listen and encourage us. We’ve lost a friend or neighbor or aunt or brother or grandpa or child or mother. We’ve lost a piece of ourselves. Each shadow painfully reminds us of this.

But if we change our focus, things look differently. If we look up to the sky, we notice the reason for the dark shadows. It is the beautiful bright sun shining on the hills that casts shadows down into the valleys. It is the life we had with our loved one, the joy we had with them, the light they brought into our lives that is casting the shadow. If we hadn’t known their love, there would be no shadows now that they are gone.  But then, there never would have been the sunshine either.  There would only have been cloudy days, the days where no shadows are found. I think it is better to walk through long valleys of shadows than to never have felt the warmth of the sunshine on your face.  

The best part is to realize that this whole life really is the valley of the shadow of death.  That probably sounds depressing or even morbid, but it really isn’t. Don’t get me wrong, I love my life and family and friends. I love the beauty of nature that surrounds me. But this life has shadows. It has pain and suffering, heartache and loss. One day my focus will change. I may notice my focus slowly changing or it might happen in an instant when I least expect it. When it happens, I will look up and see the most incredible Light ever. It will be so brilliant that the sun will pale in comparison. And this Light will cast a shadow so deep and dark onto the earth that I will focus only on the Light itself. At that moment I will know that I have finally found my way out of the valley of the shadow of death.

Be Still

"Just keep still." I wonder how many times I heard Daddy say those words over the years. It was his way of reminding us that in many instances, it's better to not say anything, because if you say what's on your mind, you will later regret it. There is excellent advice in those simple words. I can still hear his voice saying it. "Just keep still." Unfortunately, I sometimes hear the words after saying something that I immediately regret. On other occasions, I remember the words in time to save myself from a guilty conscience later.

Our Heavenly Father also offers us lots of wonderful advice. My favorite bible verse is Psalm 46:10. "Be still and know that I am God." A few years ago I even bought a little pocket sized stone that had those words on it. Actually I bought two because one side of the stone had the words "Be still" and the other had the words "And know that I am God". I know that it doesn't take much effort to turn the stone over, but I sometimes need to see the whole verse at once.

On Tuesday, June 14, 2011, I picked up the prayer shawl (I previously mentioned this in another entry) from church and started my 3 hour drive to LaCrosse to spend a few days with my mom. We knew she had cancer and that the prognosis was "weeks rather than months." These drives alone had become a time of prayer and talking to God for me. There was a specific thing I'd prayed for concerning my mom for a very long time. It had nothing to do with her physical health, but rather with her peace of mind. In the past, when I'd prayed about this I often suggested to God my ideas of how to accomplish it. This day my prayer was different. I don't know if it was knowing that Mother was dying or that I was physically and emotionally exhausted. I'd like to think that I "wised up" but it may have been as simple as finally giving into the fact that I didn't have all the answers. But my prayer was simple: "God, you know what Mother needs and what is best for her. Your will be done."  And I immediately heard a response. "Be still and know that I am God." I didn't hear an actual voice saying the words, but I most definitely felt them in my heart. And I knew God was speaking to me. I should mention that in the past, I heard others say that God spoke to them and I wondered what they were smoking to think they heard God's voice. So if you think I've lost my mind, I understand. But when it happens to you, you just know. And for the record, I wasn't smoking anything or drinking anything either.

Not long after I arrived at the hospital, Mother started mentioning the situation she needed peace with. It was obvious that it was the most urgent thing on her mind. She was worried that she wouldn't get that peace "in time." I told her that the peace she wanted could only come from God. I remembered hearing the words, "Be still and know that I am God" on the drive down. God did have a  plan and things started happening. Before noon the next day, I became a firm believer that miracles still happen. I swear that I witnessed a miracle or two that morning. And it was more beautiful than any of the suggestions I had given God. Mother wasn't suddenly healed physically, but she had the peace that she needed. I asked her a few of times in her final days if she was at peace and she always said yes.

Just as I sometimes forget my earthly father's advice of  "Just keep still" until after words slip out of my mouth, I don't always seem to remember my Heavenly Father's advice to "Be still and know that I am God" until I am frustrated and ready to give up hope. But at some point the words of advice come back to me. And they bring me the peace of knowing that I don't have to have all the answers. God has a plan and things are starting to happen. And the result will be more beautiful than my own ideas. God's will be done!

Writing My Soul

I’ve heard from several of you who read my blog. Thank you for all your kind comments.  Honestly, I’m just writing my feelings. I am a thinker. Many times I over-think things to the point of dwelling on the littlest of details. Writing helps me sort all those thoughts out. There is no mystery in what I write.

At one point in my life, I thought about a career in writing. In fact, when I graduated from college, my dream job was to write Shoebox Greeting Cards. My quick wit and sarcastic sense of humor seemed like a perfect fit to me. My degree was in marketing and I also considered working in advertising, maybe writing commercials. But some how, I ended up doing collections. There wasn’t much need for my wit and sarcastic sense of humor in that job, although I may have made a few sarcastic comments after hanging up the phone from some of my collection calls. 

After I became a stay at home mom, the only writing I did was “to do” lists and grocery lists. I’d occasionally write down funny things my kids said so I could embarrass them with them years down the road. In fact, one of those funny things had to do with a grocery list. When Danielle was probably three  years old, she and I were grocery shopping. She was sitting in the grocery cart, holding my list for me. She knew that we bought whatever I had written on the list. She looked at me and said, “The list says ice cream.” I knew full well I hadn’t put ice cream on the list and that she couldn’t read. But it made me chuckle that instead of just asking me to buy ice cream, she told me it was on the list. In case you are wondering, I bought ice cream. I figured I was rewarding her creativity. And I love ice cream!

As my mom got older, she commented that she never really did a lot in her life. I didn’t understand how she could say that. I thought about all the work she did to keep our large family running. I wanted to write her something telling her how much she really had done over the years. I tried several times to sit down and write something to give her for her birthday or Mother’s Day.  I’d write a few words, but could never get the writing to come together. A couple days after she died, I knew the time was right. I sat down with paper and pen and the words just flowed out of me. I shared the tribute I wrote about her with Pastor Tim at our church. He told me that it was beautiful. He also said that my soul needed to be written and that I should listen to it and write it. I wasn't quite sure what he meant or how to go about it. It had taken me years to write that tribute. Well, maybe it was years of trying and about a half an hour of actual writing.  The thought of trying to write anything else seemed like more than my grieving heart could handle. Yet, on those sleepless nights, when thoughts were racing through my mind and I was reliving Mother’s last days, I decided to jot down some of them. Usually it was just a word or two. But by writing it down, it was as though I was giving myself permission to put the thought aside until a time when I could better deal with it. I’m not even sure I saw it that way at the time, but looking back, it is obvious to me that is what I was doing. Other times, my emotions formed  sentences and paragraphs that flowed onto the paper.  Perhaps that was my soul writing itself. As the one year anniversary of Mother entering the nursing home approached, I knew the time was right to do more writing. Why I decided to write it in a blog is a bit of a mystery to me.  It really is out of character for me to put myself "out there" like that.

Another strange thing is that when I started writing, my intent was to write about my mom. I didn’t intend to write a lot about God and my faith. Even though Pastor Tim told me that my soul needed to be written, I didn’t think that necessarily meant writing about my faith. But it just happened. I saw things happen with my mom and God’s presence was obvious.  At times there was no denying that His fingerprints were on the way things came together.  It is impossible for me to describe, other than to say that I just knew.  When you have an experience and know God is involved, it’s nearly impossible to keep it to yourself.  There is an amazement and comfort so powerful that you feel a need to share it.

I miss my parents terribly, especially my mom since her death is more recent. But my faith has been strengthened from the experiences I had during their illnesses, deaths and since then.  I know that Mother and Daddy would be happy to know that my faith has grown. Nothing would please them more.

Thanks again for reading along and going on this journey with me.  I know the next couple of weeks will be very emotional ones for me. Yesterday was the last day of school for my kids. We made our annual last day of school trip to Dairy Queen. As the kids sat eating their ice cream and chatting with friends, I found myself remembering our trip there a year ago. I remembered the table we sat at last year. I remembered the fear I had of how my mom’s test results would come back. I remembered that the next morning I heard the word cancer and that two weeks later we buried her.  But I also remembered that God had answered my prayer of not hearing bad news before school was out. I remembered that I was able to spend Mother’s final days with her. I remembered that God was there with us and continues to be. While the next weeks will be emotional, I will get through them. And in the process, it’s likely that my soul will pour out onto the keyboard. Now that I’ve started writing my soul, I’m not sure I can stop.

Twenty Years

Twenty years ago today, on June 6, 1992, Eric and I got married. I should probably start with how we met. It was in January of 1990 in the lingerie department at JC Penney in Rochester, MN. Yes, you read it right: We met in the lingerie department. I could stop there and let your imagination run wild, but I'll explain. I was living in Rochester and working a temporary job in the mortgage company where my sister, Kathy worked. On the same floor of the building, but working for a different company, was a guy named Scott. Our receptionist wanted to set me up with Scott. Scott told her that he had a girlfriend, but told me he had a brother that was my age. I heard about this brother for months, but never met him. One day, several months later, after my temp job had ended, I stopped by the office to go to lunch with Kathy. I ran into Scott and he asked where I was working. I told him I was at JC Penney. A few nights later when I was working, in walked Scott with the brother I'd heard about. So that is how I met Eric in the lingerie department. I will be totally honest and tell you that when I went home from work that night, I told my roommate that I'd finally met Eric. I went on to say that I was sure we had nothing in common, but if he asked me out, I'd go because it would be a free night out. (Of course I now like to say that I've been paying ever since!) Eric came back into Penney's a few days later and basically asked me out in front of my boss and the store manager. He didn't know who they were and I pretty much just quickly said yes to get rid of him before I got in trouble with my boss.

On our first date, Eric picked me up in his dad's car. We went out for a drink and in talking with him, I found that we had more in common than I thought. We also went to Silver Lake to feed the geese, but they were afraid of us. On our second date he brought his own car. Apparently he didn't feel a need to impress me any more! He drove a little orange, poorly running Datsun, that my roommate and I quickly dubbed The Pumpkin Car. We joked about how that whole car could fit on the hood of the LTD II that I drove. This morning I was looking through things from our wedding and came across some things from when we dated. I found a bar napkin with directions to his parents house. I vaguely remember him giving that to me and inviting me to a party he was throwing when his parents were out of town.

After about a year and a half of dating, Eric proposed. We had talked about marriage and I had told him that if he proposed, I wanted him to have a ring when he popped the question. But he also knew I'd want to help pick out the ring. So on Labor Day weekend of 1991, he pulled out a ring and asked me to marry him. He quickly explained that this was "A ring" not "THE ring". He had borrowed a cubic zirconium ring from his sister in law, Noreen so that he "A ring". After I said yes, I asked if I had to actually wear that ring! He said no and we quickly went shopping for "THE ring." After we got the real ring, we went down by the Mississippi River in St. Paul and he proposed to me as a thunderstorm was rolling in. Our families were happy for us, and no one was surprised that we'd gotten engaged.

In looking through things this morning, I found a little swatch of fabric that Mother had sent me of the outfit she found to wear to our wedding. I also found the handkerchief she gave me to carry on my wedding day. It now has a few fresh tears on it. One of the most precious things I found was a letter that Mother gave me on the morning of my wedding day. In it she told me how much she and Daddy loved me and how proud of me they were. She told me that they were so happy for Eric and I and wished us many years of love, health and happiness. The letter also talked about how pleased they were with the young man I was marrying and how they felt they were giving him one of their best. This letter could have something to do with the fresh tears on the handkerchief.

Caledonia is a small town and 20 years ago, the only place to stay was the Crest Motel. It was nothing fancy, but it was adequate for the wedding guests. The only problem was that the farmer directly behind the motel decided to empty his slurry tank just before our wedding weekend. For those not familiar with farming, the slurry tank holds liquid manure and when it is emptied, the smell is undeniable. I found it funny that Eric brought his tux out to my parents' farm so that it wouldn't smell like manure. All these years later, people still talk about the smell at the motel.

When I left the farm for the wedding, I dropped something as I was getting in the car. I hadn't gotten far up the road when I realized I had dropped it (although today I don't remember what it even was). I quickly turned around and drove back in the driveway. As I pulled up to the house, I saw Daddy standing there. I jumped out of the car and said, "I changed my mind!" He never missed a beat and replied, "You'd be a damn fool if you did!" I guess he approved of Eric!

I had both Mother and Daddy walk me down the aisle. As I think back now, I wonder if anyone walked my mom down the aisle on her wedding day. Her parents were both gone by then. I wish I had asked her. Maybe one of my siblings will know.

Our wedding was at St. John's in Caledonia. It was a very traditional wedding in a WELS church. The word "obey" was in my vows. I didn't actually have to say the word, just agree to it. I tell people that I crossed my fingers when I said yes to that, so it doesn't count. The wedding went smoothly and we were soon husband and wife. We were then off to Good Times for our reception. We still frequent Good Times when we are down that way, but I don't think I've been in the basement portion since our reception.

Twenty years seems like a long time. The time does fly past. I'm sure it didn't seem to Mother and Daddy that they could have really been married for 63 years. I don't really remember celebrating their 25th anniversary as I was pretty little, but there is a picture to prove we did. I remember we had a party for them on their 40th. As their 50th anniversary was approaching, I remember my dad making comments about himself not making it that long. (This was nothing new for my dad to talk like that.) My mom told him that he better be there, because she was planning to make it! For their 50th, all Mother and Daddy wanted was for all of us to go with them to church and then go back to the farm for a meal together.

My mom wrote each of us (including grand kids and sons and daughters in law) a beautiful letter that she gave us on their golden anniversary. I found both mine and Eric's today. I smiled when I read Eric's. My mom told him they couldn't have asked for a better son-in-law. She said they considered him more son than in law. How very sweet and also true. I always teased them that they loved Eric more than they loved me. (Another blog entry for another day.) In my letter, my mom told me again how much she loved Eric and me and how she knew they could count on us for anything. She also mentioned something that I didn't remember being in the letter. She wrote about that day when I was little and went upstairs in the morning looking for her and she was in the bed next to mine. I wrote the poem "Mama's Gone" about that experience. I'm not sure I saw much more of what was in the letter after I read that. The tears were clouding my vision a little. Eric and I didn't have any of our kids yet when Mother and Daddy celebrated their 50th. But when each of them was born, Grandma sent them each their own special letter. What treasures they are now.  

I learned a lot about marriage by watching my parents. They loved each other and it showed. They rarely had the chance to be alone with all of us kids around. They didn't give each other extravagant gifts. But they took their vows seriously. They experienced better and worse. They experienced sickness and health. They experienced richer and poorer. But the true richness they had was a love for each other. A love that never ended. One of the things that my mom said to me on her last day was, "I love him." When I asked who, she said, "Daddy". (They called each other Mama and Daddy most of the time.) I told her that he loved her too and she said, "I know he did." I told her that he still did and that he was just loving her from Heaven now. In those hours before her death, she was thinking of the love of her life. I'm pretty certain that he was waiting for her to join him so he could show her all the glory of Heaven.

I just looked back at the letter my mom gave me on their 50^th anniversary. She ended it by saying that Daddy had given her a Christmas card the year before they got married. After all those years, she still remembered the verse and said it expressed her love for her family:

I love you Dear

I always will

With a love that faileth never.
I wish you everything that’s best.

Today Dear and forever.

That was the way they lived their marriage, with an ever enduring love for one another and for their family. May we all love like that.

My parents were right that I chose a nice young man for my husband. We have experienced some of life's greatest joys together. We've also experienced great heartaches together. But the key is that we've experienced them together. Even on the days when we drive each other crazy, we know that together is where we are happiest. I am glad that I was only joking when I told my dad that I'd changed my mind about marrying Eric. Because my dad was right: I would have been a damn fool if I had. Happy 20^th Anniversary to the love of my life, Eric.

And since I mentioned in an earlier blog post that we got married on my sister, Linda’s 40^th birthday, I have to add one more thing.  Happy 60^th Birthday Linda!

First Love

I will never get over my first love.

Though I’ve been happily married for years,

There is another for whom my heart still yearns.

The one who first held my hand,

Gave me my first kiss.

The first one to say, “I love you”,

Who cherished me always,

Saw only the best in me.

The one who encouraged me to

Discover myself,

Yet was always there for me.

The one who I could always turn to,

Could always run back to.

The one who taught me the meaning of love

Through living, not mere words.

The one who loved me before we ever met.

The one I long to meet again.

I will never get over my first love,

My Mother.

A Step Ahead

Growing up, I went to St. John’s Lutheran Church in Caledonia. There, as students were confirmed, each chose or was assigned a bible verse. My verse was John 15:5 "I am the vine, ye are the branches: He that abideth in me and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit: for without me ye can do nothing."

As each of his grandchildren were confirmed, my dad started a new tradition. He would make a beautiful wooden plaque with a cross on it. He then would have the local jeweler engrave their confirmation verse on a thin piece of metal and attach it to the plaque.  As my dad got older, he knew it was unlikely that he would live to see all his grandchildren confirmed. Still, he wanted the tradition to continue, so he made sure that he had enough wooden plaques made ahead of time. He told my mom that if he died first, she needed to get the verses engraved on the plaques and make sure they were given to the grandkids on their confirmation days.

After my dad died, my mom told me many times that I needed to have my kids pick their confirmation verses. I mentioned it to Danielle, but it seemed much too soon to expect Lauren and Evan to pick theirs. Every time I saw Mother, she would ask me if they had picked their verses yet. In Early 2011, Danielle found the verse that she liked. It is Psalm 55:22 “Cast your cares on the Lord and He will sustain you; He will never let the righteous fall."

I received an e-mail from Jo one day that the local jeweler was retiring so I should make sure Evan and Lauren picked their verses as well. When I asked Lauren and Evan what verses they would like, they had no ideas. I teased them that if they didn't choose verses, then one of them would get John 11:35 "Jesus wept."  Evan asked what Grandpa’s favorite verse had been. Lauren asked what Grandma’s favorite verse was. They wanted those verses. I didn’t know the answers so asked my mom. She thought Grandpa’s was John 14:6 “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father but through Me.”  My dad had this verse hung up in his work shop. Mother told me that her favorite verse was Isaiah 12:2 “Surely God is my salvation. I will trust and not be afraid. The Lord, the Lord is my strength and my song. He has become my salvation."

It wasn’t much longer until my mom was in the nursing home and then the hospital. When we went down to see her the weekend she was diagnosed with cancer, I took my bible with me. On that Saturday while I was visiting her, I told her that I had brought my bible along and was writing down my kids' confirmation verses to give to Jo. Even though the jeweler was retired, he had told Jo that he would still do the engraving for the plaques. I read Danielle’s verse to Mother. She liked it. As I found Evan’s verse, which was Grandpa’s favorite, I told my mom that I noticed the verse was in the same chapter as the verse that Daddy’s funeral sermon had been based on…."In my Father’s house are many mansions…" After I said that, she told me that she wanted her funeral sermon to be based on her favorite verse, the one Lauren had chosen for her confirmation verse. I was surprised as she had not mentioned to me that she thought or knew she was dying. I forced myself to keep the tears inside, and simply told her, "OK." Even then, I had no idea just how soon her funeral would be.

The first time that Pastor Wolff visited Mother in hospice, he read Psalm 23 to my mom before he left. My mom was drifting in and out of sleep at that point, but I just broke down in tears hearing that old familiar Psalm. Not so many weeks before, one of the pastors at my current church had done a sermon based on that Psalm. I had found that sermon to be very interesting and it all came rushing back to me now. The part of Pastor Tim’s sermon that I had most been fascinated by was the meaning of “He prepares a table before me in the presence of my enemies.” He said that shepherds would go ahead of their flocks up to the tablelands to be sure there were no predators that would harm the sheep when they arrived. He said that just like the shepherds, God was always a step or two ahead of us, preparing the way, making it safe for us. While I had always loved the beauty of the 23rd Psalm, I had never thought too much about those specific words before. Now, the meaning of them brought me great comfort. In the days to come, I told Mother that those words meant God was already a step ahead of her. God’s timing had been perfect in other things in her life and she agreed that was true. I told her that God had a plan for her. He was ahead of her and and was already in the place where He was leading her.

When Pastor Wolff left my mom’s room that day after he read Psalm 23, I followed him in to the hall and talked with him. I told him that Mother had told me what verse she wanted her funeral sermon to be based on when the time came. He told me that he already knew that was her favorite verse and that he would make sure that when the time came, the verse would be used for her funeral. The next time that he came to visit Mother in hospice, he read that verse (Isaiah 12:2) to her and talked about it's meaning. I repeated the verse to her many times over the next days. When she seemed agitated I would tell her, “Surely God is my salvation. I will trust and not be afraid.” I was telling myself the same thing. I knew we were losing Mother and it scared me to think of life without her. But if I expected her to trust and not be afraid, then I better as well. In her final hour, I repeated the verse to her several times.  And while I was sad and heartbroken when she died, I was also at peace. I trusted that God knew what he was doing. He was one step ahead of her. The way was safe. There were no predators. The Lord was her shepherd, her strength and her salvation. He had led her Home. There was no reason for me to be afraid. There was no reason to despair. He had a plan for me as well and was already a step ahead of me. But I also knew it was alright for me to be sad and to mourn. After all, even Jesus wept.

Danielle will be confirmed next October. Not too long ago, she asked me what would happen with  her confirmation plaque, since Grandma was no longer with us. I told her that she would receive it on her confirmation day. It warmed my heart to know that she was thinking about it. I know she will treasure it. I also know that as each of my kids are confirmed and receive their plaques, I will feel a little tug in my heart since Grandpa and Grandma won't be there. But I also know I will feel a little hug from Heaven as I remember that Grandpa and Grandma thought ahead and made sure that they would in fact be a part of all of their grandkids confirmation days. I guess they were a step ahead of me too.