One year ago today I was in the ER barely clinging to life. Many of you know my story of double pulmonary embolisms a year after a car accident that has left me with some issues from a traumatic brain injury. All of this is intermingled with caring for my elderly father for seven years, his worsening dementia and my inability to continue caring for him. Placing him in a nursing home was one of the hardest things I have had to do. Have I been happy with all of this? No. But through these past two years when I have been broken in body and spirit, I have found what JOY is by becoming more intimately acquainted with the Author of my life. He is the Author of my story, and my burden is not so heavy when I trust Him with it. Is this easy to do? No. But when I daily, sometimes multiple times a day, communicate my frustrations, anger, depression to God, there is that flicker of Joy that awakens and burns within me. God did not do these things to me, but they have been allowed in my story, and everyday there is something that I am able to see and understand with new eyes of who I am now. The colors and sounds of nature are so beautiful, the sound of the voices of those I love are music to my soul, the faces and smiles of my friends are priceless gifts.  As I was rolled out the front door of our home on a gurney last Dec. 9th, my thought was I am dying. I will never see this doorway again, never set foot in my home again. Never see my family again. Now, everytime I go through that front door I remember that and I am so thankful for life. When our family was all together for Thanksgiving, my heart was full of gratitude and thanks for another holiday to be together. But with that is the realization that anyone of us may not be at the next one. Our days are numbered. Our lives must be lived out with love and those we love need to hear it. Rid your life of grudges, petty arguments, unkind words. I had an elderly relative that at 85 years of age was still talking about a grudge held for 65 years! What a waste. My life story is unique to me, and many of you have endured far more suffering in your story. Maybe the loss of a child, abuse, being paralyzed and the list goes on. I certainly do not have the constant joy mastered. It is a lifetime of taking those moments of being still and listening to the whispers of God all around us.  But understanding that true Joy has nothing to do with our circumstances lightens our load and eventually our countenance will be that of joy. Eternity starts when we are born, and a very small part of it is our earthly journey. Make it a journey of joy. If you are reading this and have a heavy burden, my prayers for you are carried with this blog. We are all on this journey together.

This week I attended a memorial service for a 34 year old man. He was a son, a brother, a husband, a father of 3, and a friend to many. There were complications from what should have been an out patient routine surgery. Why do things like this happen? Why has my best friend buried 2 of her 4 children? Why did my 6 month old niece go to bed with sniffles almost 30 years ago and die during the night of a fast acting pneumonia? Why did my friend lose her 6 yr old son to a brain stem tumor. There are no answers to these questions, on this side of eternity anyway. The Bible tells us that our days are numbered, and that in itself should give us pause to evaluate where we are in life. And to those who do not believe in God or heaven, you still know that one day, when you least expect, you will kiss this world goodbye. December 9^th of last year, I was given a second chance at life. The odds of surviving were against me, but each day since is a gift. At the memorial service this week, I watched a family in pain. Everyone who loved this man had a broken heart and many tears were shed. But they knew he also had loved them, and to my knowledge there were no big regrets or things left unsaid. I left there determined to love my family, friends and those I come in contact with each day to know without a doubt that they have all left an imprint on my life. I do not want my last breath to have any regrets of not having said what I want to. I want my children to pause and think about if that would have been their sibling in the casket, would there be regret? I want my friends to ponder this thought with their own families, their friends, siblings. What petty things have come between us, what gossip has been shared, what pride has kept us from making the first move of reconciliation? These are the kind of questions we CAN find answers to. And these are the burdens we can release from ourselves and others. Two things we know for sure in this life, a time to be born and a time to die. Love each other fiercely, put pettiness aside, forgive even if the offender has not repented or asked for it. Life is short. Let’s make it as sweet as we can.

What Is Your Fragrance?.

See You Later Mom!.

The clock had never moved so slowly. I looked around the waiting room; so many people yet I felt like I was lost with a group of strangers. Even though I was hoping for the phone to ring, I still jumped every time it did. Each time was another progress report, chest opened up, blood pumping through the machine now, valve replaced. The sky was getting darker, more from storm clouds moving in than from the sun going down. A few rumbles of thunder in the distance, and then a loud crash of thunder that accompanied a flash of lightening. My son, standing at the window turned to look at me, and within minutes that phone rang again. The words were painful to my ears.

“I am sorry, we just cant do anymore. Her heart won”t start pumping on its own. We will be out in a few minutes.” My face and tears told everyone in the room what the verdict had been. The aortic dissection had won. My mother had died. My mind could not comprehend those words! My beautiful mother had died. Never again would I hear her sweet voice on the phone., or see her toddling across the street to my house with a rhubarb cake and a smile on her face. Or hear her laugh as we played word games around the table.

Robotically, I called who I needed to. Her sister, my brother and sister who were still hours away. The surgeon came out to talk to us. He looked so tired, and I wept as he knelt by my father and told him he was sorry he couldn’t do more. I kept hoping I was in a bad dream, but the reality of it felt more like a nightmare. I wasn’t ready for this!

Just hours ago she wanted me to bring her purse to the hospital and be sure her kitty had food and water! When I left to do those duties, I never thought that would be our last conversation.

Then a kind woman in a soft, pale yellow sweater appeared and asked if we would like to see my mom. Of course we do! I want to see my mother now!

The swinging door creaked as we shuffled into the small room. In the center was a white sheet covering all but my mothers head and her lower arms and hands. Her beautiful hands. I held them, still warm and soft as I always knew them to be. Memories of those hands stroking my head as a child, hands teaching me to play the piano, hands cradling my own children, and hands that were there for 3 great-grandchildren. Hands that folded in prayer to the God she loved and was now in the presence of. I nestled my face in her hair, never wanting to lose her scent, never wanting to leave that room. For 53 years, she had been there for me. She was my first love, she taught me how to love, she taught me how to live. As tears fell on the white sheet, I kissed her lifeless face good bye, and I knew what a broken heart felt like. I was part of her, and the pain of our earthly separation was deep.

Then the battle began within me. How could I want her back to this life on earth when she was now in the presence of the Lord? Verses she had taught me as a child battled with the reality of the rest of my life being without her? Was I selfish? What was wrong with me?

I wish I could say it took a few days to rejoice for her home going. But for eleven years the battle goes on. Jesus said to the thief on the cross, “Today you will be with me in Paradise”…”To be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord.” I do rejoice for her, even on the days I smell a honeysuckle bush and tears come to my eyes as it reminds me of her. Or the days I see the familiar handwriting on a birthday card from years ago and the sting of tears reappear. The grief is not as painful, but it still washes over me at times. Her absence seems to scream at times, and other times her presence is with us. My children and grandchildren are all a little part of her.

I have come to accept that the real tragedy would have been if I did not have the relationship with my mother that I had. The relationship that makes me miss her because I loved her so, and I knew she loved me. And my tears are temporary. Someday it will be me under the white sheet, but it will be only the lifeless body that my soul once lived in. I will be rejoicing in the presence of the Lord with my mother and all who have gone before me.

This is the mystery of time. Ecc. 3:2 says there is an occasion for every activity under heaven; a time to give birth and a time to die.” This is the common thread of all humanity. We rejoice at the birth and mourn the loss. As I stand at the cemetery headstone of my mother, and look across the hill at all the graves, I imagine the tears moistening the ground at each grave, tears of loved ones mourning the one to go before them. Yet through all of time, this has been the sure thing for each of us, a time to be born and a time to die. Let us all be mindful to be prepared for that time to die, as the Lord is the only one who knows that day.

My 2nd Chance at Life.

There are many sign posts in our life which move us to a spiritually deeper place. The entry of each of my children and grandchildren have all done that in my life. December 9, 2013 is a day that has given my heart new eyes to see and love. The day dawned as a typical day, but within minutes of waking I was in the clutches of what could have been the last moments of my earthly life. I knew I was dying, and as I looked through my house, my main focus was to get to the bathroom and not die in front of the Christmas tree. My vision tunneled and shadowed, as if there was a shortage of light bulbs in the house. I must have been on wings of angels to arrive in the bathroom, and hear my cell phone ringing there. It was my husband, who called for an ambulance. As I was rolled out our front door on the gurney, I remember looking at the ceiling and thinking this is the last time I will go through this door. The 20 miles to the hospital in the ambulance was filled with multiple attempts to start an IV, but I was in a conversation with God. “Please let me live, forgive me for not wanting to join you yet” over and over again. All I could think of was my family. I just didn’t want to leave them yet. The rest of the time and the arrival at the ER is a dreamlike recollection of more IV attempts, faces of my family, doctors, nurses and then the large hands of an EMT attempting to start an IV in the jugular vein in my neck. As I turned my head to the side, I don’t even remember the puncture and IV, but my mind went to a beautiful beach scene, warm, water gently lapping at the sand. I remembered words from CS Lewis about death being like leaving one shore and heading toward another. I wondered with no fear if this was my shore of departure. Fading in and out, I was told I had pulmonary embolisms in both lungs, my heart was enlarged trying to do its job, and I had clots in both legs. My husband was told there was a good chance I would not make it. Eventually I was taken up to ICU with an IV bag of liquid clot buster (don’t know the professional name of it) going into my veins. All of this time, I felt dreamlike, floating in a warm cocoon of what I now know was the peace of God that surpasses all understanding. To make a long story short, I am alive! I have been given a second chance for life, for joy, for love, for everything! There is not a day that goes by but I think about this could be my last day, or the last day of a friend or loved one. When the day comes that I am just a memory, I want my life to have been a fragrance of love and friendship to those whose path has crossed mine. And as I keep on this journey, I ask that God continue to do His work through me in loving others, and to do so with a grateful heart. So, just as you , moment by moment, day by day we continue on this path of life. There are still mountains and valleys, but we are never alone as we make our way to our day of departure.

Seasons of Life.

As the trees and foliage begin to display their glorious autumn colors, I am reminded that our lives are measured in seasons as well. We are energetic and full of optimism during the spring and summer of our lives. Childhood, teen years, to years of young parents raising children are busy, bustling years of happiness and endless activity. But then just as summer flies by and tips of trees start to glow in color, we find ourselves in the autumn of our lives. I am convinced that a time warp of some kind happens to us. There are days when I long for the fun of being at the center of a growing family again, cooking for eight at every meal. And I wish I had treasured that time more as it was happening instead of getting caught up in the busyness of life. But there is much to be thankful for in this season of life now too. Grandchildren dancing through the door bringing smiles and joy to the day, as well as being the partakers of a cookie or two. Another blessing is that of having adult children who have their own lives but still want to be a part of ours. Time is plentiful now, and it is a positive time for reflection, friends and new opportunities. A time to learn more about others, myself, and my God. A time to be able to hear the whispers from God as we learn and have time to be still. We all hope to go through all four seasons of life, as we look ahead to the impending winter. But should a season be cut short , I would want my legacy for my family to be that of love, to continue to love one another, and love the Lord with all their heart, soul and mind. “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways, acknowledge Him, and He will direct your paths.” Prov 3:5.6

In My Heart.