THE DREAM

I tend to dream a lot.  My dreams are very vivid.  They’re filled with people I recognize, colors I remember later, and ridiculously small details that I often can’t believe found their way in there. Usually, I don’t even try to assign any significance to them.  They’re entertaining to relate to my family in the morning, but no more.  But there was one dream I had many years ago that I do recall often, because its message seemed profound in a way I couldn’t, at first, figure out.

In the dream I was coming home, but “home” wasn’t the split level home in the suburbs in which I currently lived with my husband and children.  “Home” was a three story walk up in a sleazy looking tenement style building in a row of other tenement style buildings.  I was aware that no one else, my husband and children included, knew about the place.  I was keeping it a secret.

 I walked up the three dimly lit flights of stairs to a small landing and unlocked the door to my apartment.  Like one of the homes I lived in when I was a kid, this one also had railroad rooms, where you entered into the kitchen, made a right and went from one room to the next, like cars in a train.   

My dream “home” was just like that.  I entered through the hallway door into the kitchen and then went down the hall through bedroom after bedroom.  As I walked I noticed that the rooms were sparsely furnished, with the beds unmade. On the floor in the corner of each room was a small mound of a white powdery substance I recognized as mouse poison.  Obviously, my apartment had 4 legged “guests”.  I remember wondering why I would ever have a secret apartment like that one.  I felt ashamed of this place.  It was dark and dingy and it had mice!  No wonder I kept it secret!  I could never invite anyone there.

And then I reached the last room, the living room, and was taken completely by surprise.  I faced a wall of windows and the view was amazing!  It was a cityscape, twinkling with a million tiny lights.  It revealed a view to take your breath away.  All by itself it made this apartment worth keeping.

I looked around.  Not only was it beautifully furnished, but everywhere I looked there were things that I counted as treasures.  Beautiful statues and paintings of things I thought to be lovely were everywhere.  Jewelry, not of much real material value, but rich with sentimental value, was lying out on tables, to be admired. Articles of clothing I loved, like my favorite dress in second grade, and the camel coat with the faux fur collar my dad bought me one Christmas Eve, were displayed on racks or laid over furniture.  Photos that had special meaning were on shelves. 

No one entering the apartment by the kitchen door, or walking through the bedrooms would ever have suspected that such a room, or such treasures, even existed. My heart was overflowing with joy as I looked around that room.  It was so beautiful that I could cry!  And then I woke and the dream was over.  Some dreams, although I think I’ll remember them the next day, are quickly forgotten, but not this one.  I spent a lot of time thinking about it in the days ahead, sensing that there was a message in it for me. 

In order to understand how I found meaning in this dream, you need to know a little about me.  I tend to be a quiet, private person.  I had always envied people who seemed to make friends so easily while it took me forever.  I love people and I love having friends, but I spent a good deal of my adult life hiding behind quietness and insecurity, afraid that when people knew me better they might not like me.  And then I had the dream.

Eventually God used that dream to help me to understand something about myself.  The “home” which I was keeping secret from everyone else – even some of those closest to me – was ME.  As I saw it, it wasn’t a pretty place – it was dark and stark and unkempt – and it had mice!  I was ashamed to have anyone in for a visit.  God helped me see that every time I kept someone at arm’s length, every time I related only on a superficial level, I was attempting to hide from them those areas of my life that embarrassed me.  Like my less than perfect mothering skills, or my rampant insecurities about my abilities, or my often present  feeling of being “less than” other women whom I thought of as prettier, smarter, stronger, more likeable than I.

Eventually I also began to understand the meaning of the beautiful living room, hidden away at the end of the house, full of precious treasures.  The “home” that was me, wasn’t only full of things I’d rather others not see, there were also treasures I was hiding! This was a revelation because I never thought of myself as having treasures worth sharing!  Over time God has helped me to see that the compassion He’s planted in my heart – for the dying, for the developmentally challenged, for foreigners living in the country for the first time, for teens – all of these are treasures.  He’s helped me to value the sense of humor and adventure He’s planted within, and the gift of teaching and all the opportunities to use it that He’s given me.

He helped me to see that while I was hiding the things about me of which I was ashamed, refusing to share them with anyone else, I was also hiding the treasures.  Potential friends I allowed in might move through the rooms of my “home” that I wasn’t so proud of, but if they stayed with it long enough, they’d also share my treasures.  And there WERE treasures to share!

Over time I’ve come to embrace what God showed me.  I no longer hide my dark “rooms”.  When I’ve had the courage to share what’s in them, my failings resonate with others who’ve faced similar things and I find myself blessed with new and lasting friends who “get” me even as I “get” them.  I have the courage now to live my treasures as well as share them – like the adverturesomeness of zip lining, the craziness of dressing up for April Fool’s Day with my granddaughter and posting the photos on Facebook, the blessing of saying YES to a mission’s trip at the age of 61!

I’ve dreamed a lot of dreams since that night long ago, and I still chuckle over most of them with my family, but none have had the impact on my life that that one had.  I’m so grateful for the lesson the Lord taught me through it.

WHAT IF JESUS HADN'T COME?

 On Sunday our pastor read part of a letter from a missionary family.  They recounted some of the challenges they were facing, challenges that would tax any of us.  At the end of their letter they asked this question:  “What if Jesus hadn’t come?” 

Well, what if He hadn’t? 

As I reflected on how I might answer that question, one thought came to mind:  life would be hopeless.  

If Jesus hadn’t come I’d still be working furiously in an effort to win God’s approval with my works, and never, ever, really knowing if it was enough to balance out my faults and failures.

I would never know the wonderful assurance that I had been forgiven – not because I deserved it – but because Jesus made it possible.  Instead I would be consumed by my guilt and fearful.

If Jesus hadn’t come, joy would remain elusive.  Oh, there would be happiness in happy things – people, birthdays, new jobs, new babies – but the joy that comes from knowing Jesus, even when life holds no joy, would be absent.

When life brought despair through deaths, divorces, disease, tragedy – there would be nowhere to turn for true and lasting comfort.  Only a “cross your fingers and hope for the best” dream to hold onto.   The promise that “all things work together for the good to those who love God” would be absent.

Without Jesus, God would remain “out there”, seemingly distant, indifferent, removed from the suffering of us humans.  

Without Jesus I would go on thinking of God as the heavenly policeman, ready to smack me upside the head every time I stepped out of line.  I would never understand His love, a love that would sacrifice its BEST, had Jesus not come.   

There would be no intimacy with my Heavenly Father, no sweet awareness of His nearness.

BUT Jesus HAS come and His coming fills me with a CONFIDENT hope!

Living within me by His Spirit, He fills me with peace, comfort, the companionship of His presence, power for living a godly life.  I never again need to walk the tenuous balance between doing good, and not doing bad, to gain God’s approval.  I already have it.  It was made mine thorough faith in the death and resurrection of Jesus.  Forgiveness for the sin that still so easily besets me, is just a prayer away.

When the sorrows and challenges of this world threaten to overwhelm me, I can rest in God’s sovereignty and trust His promise that “ALL things work together for (my good)”, because He is FOR me.

All my guilt has been removed.  Jesus has paid for my sin IN FULL.

This world with its joys, and also its heavy sorrows, is not my final destiny. Heaven is my home.  On the day that I enter its gates, the presence of sin – in me and in my environment – will be a thing of the past.  The Lord Jesus will rule in righteousness and I will know fullness of joy when I SEE Him face to face!  On that day, when I leave this life for the next, Jesus will welcome me home! 

One day, my body, which has been so ravaged by sin will be glorified.  No sin, no sickness, no death, no crying, no sorrow!   The sting of death, and its victory over me, has been won by my victorious Savior! 

Jesus HAS come and His coming has made ALL the difference in my life.  Confident, expectant hope is the hallmark of my faith! 

I'VE GOT THE JOY, JOY, JOY, JOY

Oh my goodness!  For a reason unknown to me I have been trying since September to access my blog, without success.  But today, with the help of my WONDERFUL husband, I am finally back!  I’m so thankful!

It has been a whirlwind of a month, and we still have two and half weeks to go!  In early December I had to have an angiogram for a possible blockage in my heart.  With heart problems on both sides of my family, and a younger brother who had a heart attack, this caused a bit of anxiety.  However, the test was false positive!  Rejoicing all around!

Then, just this week we were hit with a family problem which has disappointed and upset us and increased all our anxiety levels.  It’s not likely to be over quickly either, so the forecast is still - angst ahead. 

In response to a request for prayer which I sent out this week, a friend replied, “Don’t let this rob you of the joy of anticipating the birth of Emmanuel – ‘God with us’”. 

Even when things are not going the way we wish, even though there is anxiety and stress – we can still experience the joy of the Lord, which is our strength, and I certainly want to do that at this sacred time of year.  Despite the stresses of the month so far, joy also abounds!

On Tuesday of this week, after I taught my last lesson in a 10 week-long series on the life of Joseph, the son of Jacob, from the book of Genesis, one of the women attending spoke to me.  Her words were, “I wanted you to know that the study of Joseph has profoundly changed my life.”   On that day I had graciously received a gift card, a candle, and a cross to hang on my wall – but it was THAT gift that filled this teacher’s heart with joy.  Transformed hearts is what Bible teaching is all about, so when it happens, all those hours of preparation for teaching feel so worthwhile.  Transformed hearts bring me great joy!

After class I went to visit one of my hospice patients (I’m a hospice volunteer).  My patient was sound asleep and remained that way through my entire visit, despite my gentle efforts to wake her.  However, she happened to be sitting right next to a 7 foot, decorated Christmas tree, in the nursing home where she lives, which gave the room such a festive air.  Gathered around her were a half dozen or so other residents in various states of memory loss, simply sitting and staring. 

As it happened, the lady I sat next to was clapping and humming to an old song from the post war days that I remember my mom singing.  So, I began to sing what I remembered of the words and noticed that others in the crowd of previously almost catatonic residents had begun to tap their feet, hum, or wave their arms to the music. 

With this suddenly very attentive audience, we began an impromptu sing-along of seasonal favorites.  

What a blessing it was to see people who just a moment before seemed totally disengaged with the activity around them, suddenly perk up.  We had a blast and I found my heart FULL of the joy of the season, the joy of showing the love of Jesus to these folks, and the joy of watching music bring them to life.  It was a sweet moment of celebration.

Then it was Wednesday.  Usually on a Wednesday morning I can be found at my town library meeting with four lovely foreign ladies who are my “English as a Second Language” (ESL) students.  But last Wednesday we had decided that instead of our usual meeting, we would drive together to a church in a neighboring town for a Christmas concert in which two of our group were singing.  The music was wonderful! 

The biggest blessing for me, other than being with my students, was to hear carols so familiar to me sung in Japanese.  I couldn’t help but think of heaven, when all believers in Jesus – from every tongue and nation - will sing His praises together.  I don’t know if we’ll retain a knowledge of our earthly languages, but it just might be that we’ll have the thrill of singing the same praise songs, in beautiful harmony – each in our own earthly tongue.  What a sound that would make!  Joy, joy and more joy!

Later that afternoon I had the blessing of having tea with another friend.  Elizabeth is from Kenya.  She left two sons back home so that she could come to the US to make more money than she could make in Kenya and send her boys to university.  Elizabeth is the home care aide for another of my hospice patients.  Early on we discovered that we both love Jesus – instant friendship!  We had a lovely time learning more about one another and praying together, her black hands entwined with my white ones.  Another taste of heaven – and fullness of joy!

Then yesterday, Friday, I hosted a Christmas brunch for my ESL students.  I try to have a brunch every 4-6 weeks in my home as an opportunity for us to enjoy one another’s company in a less formal setting.  Since everyone contributes food, we can also sample foods familiar and not so familiar.  Lots of conversation is generated over a table laden with food.  We look forward to these brunches like little girls anticipating a tea party! 

This time I planned a surprise.  In addition to my ESL students, I also invited 6 of my own American friends to join us, but I didn’t tell my students.  I knew they would be terrified!  The instructions I gave my friends was to speak slowly, ask questions, talk less and listen more, in order to give my ESL students a chance to use their English.  What a wonderful morning it proved to be as the conversation, interspersed with laughter, flew back and forth across the tables!

Once again I found myself full of joy, praising the Lord for putting it into my heart to volunteer to be an ESL tutor.  I know that all I’m doing to help my students become more adept at English is blessing them because they tell me, and I can actually see the improvement in their confidence level. 

What has really blown me away though, is the HUGE blessing I receive!  These lovely women have added so much richness to my life with their sweetness and kindness.  Our relationship together is about so much more than just tutor and students.  They share the concerns of their mothers’ hearts, the warmth of their friendship, and their challenges of living here in the United States with me.  For my part, I not only help them with English, I serve as a kind of surrogate mother, cheerleader, and friend.

So, while this month had a little more than its share of angst, my cup is overflowing with gratitude to my Lord for all the ways in which He has filled me with His joy.

Someone once said that happiness comes from happenings and I’ve had plenty of delightful happenings to bring me happiness this week.  However, there is something so much better than happiness, something deeper that fills my heart when happy happenings are hard to find – and that “something” is the joy of the Lord.  I can have that any and every time – even in the anxious ones – when I think about Jesus and all the ways in which He’s blessed me.

THE LOVE OF JESUS SHED ABROAD

A number of years ago when I was training to become a Bible Study Fellowship teaching leader I was told that my aim would be to run a tight ship and at the same time, be a tender shepherd to the leaders and women and children who attended our class.  I knew immediately, because I was totally at home with rules and regulations, that I would have no trouble running a tight ship.  Being a tender shepherd, on the other hand, I knew would be a massive challenge. 

The Lord made me an introvert, quiet, shy, reserved, happy keeping my own company.  I have never really been a people person.  When I was growing up, if I had a choice between being with people, or reading a good book, I’d choose the book every time!  When I reached adulthood I would tell people that I would rather give a lecture to a room full of people than have lunch with 4 people I didn’t know.  When it came to people, I always felt love “challenged”. 

So, it did not completely surprise me when after dinner one night during that training week, we were each given a Bible verse, chosen especially for us by the director of BSF, that mine “happened” to be this prayer of the Apostle Paul’s for his Ephesian readers:

“I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge – that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.”   Ephesians 3:16-19

I knew that the difficulty I had in loving others was rooted in my lack of understanding of God’s love for me.  By faith, I knew that the Lord loved me.  There was plenty of evidence of that in God’s Word – beginning with the death of Jesus on my behalf, but in reality, I didn’t see any reason for Him to love ME.  Paul’s prayer was one I wanted the Lord to answer for me as well.  Over the next four years as I served as a teaching leader, the Lord would do exactly that.

Week one of writing weekly lectures and planning weekly training sessions for leaders, plus all the other administrative responsibilities of being a teaching leader, was just the beginning of my realization of just how much out of my depth I was!  The task was WAY too big for me!  Daily, I found myself on my knees crying out to the Lord, acknowledging that I could not do what He had asked me to do unless He helped me every step of the way.  What I wanted was to “feel” better immediately.  What I found myself doing more and more over time was simply worshipping Him.  It was in that way that I began to experience His power, wisdom and love, and begin to grasp, as I focused on HIM, and not my own inadequacy, just how much Jesus loved ME!  I did run a tight ship (as any of the leaders would have told you!), but during those years of waiting on the Lord for what I needed, I was taught by the Holy Spirit Himself to be a worshipper of the Lord in a way I had never known before. 

Miraculously, the more I understood how much Jesus loves me, the more I began to see others the way Jesus saw them.  He loved them too and because His love abided in me, I could love them too.

This week my stint as an English tutor, with the English as a Second Language program offered by our town library, began again.  This year I have 4 Asian ladies. One is continuing on from last year, but the others are new to ESL and very new to the U.S.  These lovely young women really want to become fluent in English, to help their children with their homework and to be able to navigate the phone, shopping, and relating to Americans in their everyday lives.  

Yes, I will be their English tutor, but in MY heart and mind, my role is so much bigger.  I find myself also wanting to be a friend and encourager.  I admire them for accepting the challenge, nearly always due to a husband’s job change, of moving to a country where you do not speak the language.  I don’t know if I could do it!  What an opportunity it affords me for demonstrating the love of Jesus to them, even if I never get to talk to them about Him.  Where did this new love for strangers come from?  Well, from the Lord, of course, answering my prayer to know His love and then giving that out to others.

In my volunteer role with hospice I also received a new assignment this week.  What a blessing to visit this man and his wife, to simply be a companion and give comfort for the brief time I am there.  And then, to have the added blessing of sharing some moments of talking about the Lord with their home care aide, a lovely Christian woman from Kenya.  A few years ago I never would have dreamed I would be comfortable walking into the home of seriously ill people to bring some companionship.  Where did this new ability and love for the dying come from?  I guess you know by now – from Jesus – who shed His love abroad in MY heart through His Holy Spirit.

In thinking back over the last 10 years I realize that I’m not the person I was back then.  The years of being a BSF teaching leader were stressful and anxiety filled, but how faithful the Lord has been to me to make those verses from Ephesians 3 a reality in my heart.  I’m grateful to have had experiences that were so outside my ability and comfort zone that I had to rely totally on the Lord.  In the process, I have learned so much more about just how high, and wide, and deep, and broad the love of Jesus is and in so doing, I’m now able to demonstrate His love to the others He brings across my path.

 

 

 

A SURPRISING CHANGE OF HEART

If you have been following my blogs then you know that Jim and I are planning a move to Florida, hopefully early next fall.  Due to life circumstances, back when the economy fell a few years ago, our daughter Becky, her husband Nathan, and our now 17 year old granddaughter, Emma, have been living with us.  With the advent of Emma’s last year in high school, the time has come to think seriously about a move.  We’ve already started cleaning out filing cabinets and getting ready for the first of many garage sales.  But a move wasn’t always something I anticipated with happiness.

Jim, God bless him, worked hard for more than 40 years for Deloitte, and saved for retirement.  Florida, that income tax free, low property tax, senior friendly state, has been calling his name since the day he closed the door to his office and never looked back.  While he was imagining his stress free life in that “stretch your retirement dollars as far as they can go” mecca, I was digging in my heels in good old New Jersey soil!  I did not want to go to Florida!

All I could think of were the losses.  I would have to leave the state I have called home since I was a baby.  The celebration of the joys of the changing seasons would be a thing of the past.  My loving, supportive, and much loved church family would be left behind.  We’d have to say good-bye to my brother and Jim’s, all still living here in New Jersey.

And then there was the weather!  I hate hot and humid.  My very own internal flame causes me to break out in a sweat in a sub-zero blizzard in January, how would I ever manage when it was ALWAYS hot and humid?

My daughter, Becky, who LOVES Florida in any season, and who plans to move there herself, would give me pep talks whenever I would give verbal vent to my doubts.  She’d remind me of how much better it would be as I got older never to have to shovel a sidewalk again, or tread lightly on ice.  She would remind me that there were also churches in Florida and we would find one and make it home, as we’d done before right here in New Jersey.  And she’d encourage me that before I knew it, I would be making new friends, teaching in a church, or attending a Bible study, or doing something else I loved here in New Jersey – only in Florida.

I grappled with all of it for a long time without letting go of my resentment.  Until I finally took it to the Lord.  Essentially, I said: “You know, Lord that I don’t especially want to go to Florida, but Jim does.  So, Lord, if this is something You want me to do, You’re going to have to change my heart.”

It didn’t happen overnight, but gradually I began to stop thinking only about me and start thinking about Jim.  It would be hard, I think, to find a more hardworking and faithful man when it comes to preparing for the future.  Jim worked long hours at Deloitte, with a 3 hour a day commute for many of the last years and he saved, and saved.  How could I now refuse to consider a move that would enable those retirement dollars to sustain us for even longer because I just didn’t want to go elsewhere?

When my eyes shifted from ME to Jim, my resentment left, and I began to think differently about a move.  I will still find it hard to leave my church family.  I love serving the Lord with them and worshipping together on Sunday.  They will be greatly missed.

It will be hard leaving family behind and maybe having to find new ways to celebrate family holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas.

I will most definitely miss the change of seasons.  I’m sure that will take a few years to get used to, but I was there once in February when it felt like May here in New Jersey.  I think Februarys that feel like Mays might just be pretty easy to get used to.

Then there is the heat and humidity.  Thank the Lord for air conditioning!  I’m hoping for a lot of help from the Lord for that one!  However, I did see my mom, who originally hated the heat of Florida, adapt.

I thought it was especially funny when today I received an e mail from Becky, who is currently vacationing in Florida.  She and her family also plan to move to Florida next fall.  This time it was SHE who was having doubts about moving to Florida and I giving the pep talk! 

Lord willing, this time next year, all of us will have made the move.  In the meantime, we’ll be savoring all the delights of fall, winter, and spring, alongside all the New Jersians we know and love, right here in our good old home state. 

 

 

THE ANNIVERSARY OF A LIFETIME!

Yesterday some friends were here for lunch when one of them turned to me and said, “By the way, Happy Anniversary”.  Jim and I celebrated our 44^th wedding anniversary back in July so I thought that’s the anniversary she had in mind.  It wasn’t, because she followed it up with, “the anniversary of your kidney surgery”.  Since the other guests at the table wanted to know more about it, I found myself reliving that event all over again.

It began with a Facebook link to an organ donor site, posted by Jennifer, a woman from my church.  She had just heard that the disease which affected her kidneys had progressed to the stage where going on dialysis would probably be only six months away.  At the urging of her daughters, she posted the link to the donor’s website with a, “it can’t hurt to get it out there” attitude.

I had known for some time, along with all the members of our church, that Jennifer had her name on a transplant list, but it wasn’t until I saw the link and realized the reality of a kidney shutdown in her not too distant future, that God began to speak to my heart about being her donor.  I visited the site and began to consider what to do next.

I had always admired Jennifer as a vibrant, spunky women.  She’s written a book, writes columns for local papers, travels into New York City by herself all the time, sightseeing or showing friends around, a woman diseased kidneys just can’t keep down!   She has an exuberance for life that makes her fun to be around.  I thought, if I could help this woman to get more years out of the life she lives to the full, despite diseased kidneys, then I was willing to do it!

So, I checked my blood type, which “happened” to be compatible with Jennifer’s.  Then I went into the city to New York Presbyterian Hospital for the cross match testing.  By this time, through far too many seeming “coincidences”, I was so confident that the Lord was leading me, that when Jennifer called to say we were a match, I said, “Well, of course we are!”  What followed was more than a year of further testing before I was finally approved as a donor and the surgery was scheduled.

Jennifer and I checked into the hospital for our surgery on August 14, 2013.  If you have ever been sure of the call of God on your life and determined to follow where He leads, then you KNOW what that morning was like for us.  We knew surgery and it’s recovery period, with the resulting discomfort and fatigue, lay ahead for us.  We knew the risks as well.  So there was some anxiety, naturally, but mostly we were flying high on adrenaline and the Holy Spirit!  We had a host of prayer support with us, plus our praying brothers and sisters in Christ from all over the country, and pray we did!  And the Lord was completely faithful!

Jennifer and I came through the surgery with flying colors!  We were interviewed just a few days later by television newscasters and we even made it on local TV where we had a wonderful opportunity to talk about the Lord and how He had led.  I know for me, and I can probably speak for Jennifer as well, it was a HUGE mountaintop experience for our faith!

A year has come and gone, with our kidneys continuing to work at optimum performance!  Jennifer has had a new lease on life, although she still faces other, equally serious, health challenges.  What a blessing it has been for her to have one huge one removed!  For me, kidney donation was a piece of cake!  Okay, so maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration!  It is true that apart from the usual post-surgery discomfort, it wasn’t long before I was back to the gym, living the life I’ve always lived, not even noticing the absence of a kidney.

There have been a few other situations in my life (job opportunities, mission trips, teaching Sunday school, even a cancer diagnosis) where the Lord clearly spoke to my heart, suggesting some avenue of adventure in which to follow Him.  I always did some thinking and praying about it before I followed, because each opportunity came with a risk, plus accompanying anxiety, as is true whenever the Lord asks us to venture into the unknown.  I wanted to be sure each time that I was willing to see it through to the end before making a move.  However, the assurance of the Lord’s will and the constant comfort of His presence, as well as the overarching sense of anticipation and excitement, gave me the courage to take the first step, confident that where He was leading would always be far better than anything I might have planned for my life. 

He has never disappointed. 

 “Not to us, O LORD, not to us but to Your Name be the glory, because of Your love and faithfulness.” Psalm 115:1 

 

 

HOW I SPENT MY SUMMER VACATION

Being a great lover of mysteries, I had just finished the latest in a series of mysteries set in Quebec, and suddenly found myself with a burning desire to visit.  A trip to Quebec immediately went on my bucket list!  So when we were on a one day bus tour recently and saw that the tour company was offering a summer trip to Quebec, we signed up.  We just returned from what was one of the most enjoyable, plus relaxing and refreshing vacations, we have ever taken.

The first pleasure was not having to drive the eight or so hours it would have taken us to make the trip in our car.  On a bus, we could nap, read, do crosswords and play games to pass the time without having to think about navigating the traffic.  Someone else made the hotel reservations, planned the meals, and the places we would visit.  It was glorious!

When we arrived in Montreal we were delighted to find such a large city with so few people.  As we age, we don’t do as well dodging crowds of people.  Here we could walk on big city streets with few pedestrians, and it felt safe.  What a delight to look out our hotel window and see the huge dome of a church right next door in the foreground, ringed around by the stone, metal and glass modern skyscrapers!

While in Montreal we visited two huge cathedrals.  The grandeur of these churches was breathtaking, yet the guide said there were perhaps only a few hundred people there on Sunday in a cathedral that could hold thousands.  It made me sad that no expense had been spared on such opulence, yet few visited it anymore to worship God.

It took a little time before I realized something that made its presence felt by its absence!  The noise level was lower!  Everywhere we went in Montreal and Quebec City there was music, but not the blaring, loud rock music we so often hear in the US in shopping malls, elevators, hair salons, and restaurants.  In this part of Canada we noticed street musicians everywhere.  In the town square, next to an outdoor restaurant, at a street market – all playing soft music.  It was absolutely delightful, creating an atmosphere of culture and quiet that we loved.

We’ve never been to Europe but being in Quebec City felt as if we were.  The walled city has horse drawn carriages, street after street of outdoor restaurants, and narrow cobblestone streets to walk, flowers in window boxes, street performers, and beautiful parks and town squares.  Everywhere I looked there was something beautiful to see.

I found myself thanking the Lord over and over for the beauty, the quiet, the wonderful time together with Jim, the sunshine, the modern and the old side by side, the food, the grandeur, the sound of the French language being spoken, and the chance to rest and be refreshed by it all.  All that He has made brings Him glory.

THE INVISIBLE ELDERLY

I’ve often said that if I believed in reincarnation, I’d want to come back as an Italian.  I know lots of Italians and they really know how to turn a fabulous dinner into a social occasion.  They love food – and what’s not to love about Italian food – but they never hurry the eating of it.  When it comes to food, my motto has always been, “Eat to live”, while theirs clearly is “Live to eat”!  I envy their ability to take a wonderful meal and make it an occasion to laugh and talk and enjoy one another.

But now that I’m in my 60’s, I just might prefer to come back as an Asian, and it has nothing to do with food.  Asians have a whole different attitude toward the elderly from us Americans.  When I visit the local nail salon run by Asians, they treat me like I’m a fragile, but revered, visiting dignitary.  They take my purse, hold my arm, and lead me cautiously to the nail dryer. 

Then it was a couple of young Asian girls, a few years ago when I was working in a retail clothing store, who told me I was beautiful and they hoped their moms aged as well.  Only my dad ever said I was beautiful.  It did wonders for my ego and made me long to be Asian once again!

So why am I wasting “paper” on this topic, you might ask?  Well, I’ve begun to notice lately, especially when I’m out with my 30 year old daughter Becky (who does happen to be blond, blue eyed, and easy on the eyes – and THAT may have something to do with it) that I seem to have become invisible to most people under 50.  She’s the one the waiters and salespeople address first, me second, if I’m addressed at all.

I wasn’t having an easy time aging anyway so being invisible isn’t playing well with me.

My mother in law, who turned 92 this year, relates her frustrations with invisibility every time she visits.  She is not a wall flower by any means, but she complains often that few younger people even notice her or engage her in conversation anymore.  That makes me sad.

My own mom, who never graduated from high school, but managed to rise to the rank of vice president of a savings and loan, and who had the BEST sense of humor, was just the patient in room 210 after a stroke made understanding her difficult.  It broke my heart that people continued to care for her body when inside her mind there was still a funny, intelligent person waiting for someone to listen and try and understand. When the doctor found that her false teeth had slipped off the side of the bed, she asked, with a twinkle in her eye, if he also happened to find the salami sandwich she was eating at the time still attached to her teeth.  That was just a sample of Mom’s humor he’d have missed if he hadn’t listened carefully! 

The problem of the invisibility of the aged is one of the reasons I became involved in hospice as a volunteer.  I wanted the elderly people I visit to feel that they still have value, they’re still worthy of being known, even though their memories aren’t what they used to be, and they’ve lost much of their independence.  Whenever I visit one of them at a nearby nursing home, I eventually find myself in the center of a little cluster of folks in need of a smile or a kind word, or a hand to hold.

So I make it my habit now to go out of my way to relate to the elderly, and I have been blessed to meet some pretty amazing people!  I’ve met a 90 year old who fought in a revolution in Cuba in her youth, another with a doctorate in chemistry, another who was an English lit professor in a college and another who was still commuting to her job in New York City at the age of 81! Before I got to know them, they all fell into the category of “grandma types", but there were really interesting women inside those aging bodies just waiting for someone to notice them.

So my plan to fight invisibility in the lives of the elderly I know is to look them in the eye, smile, and ask some questions, like: So, tell me about yourself; your family; your childhood; the work you did, etc.  With a little coaxing, I know they’ll be off and running and my time will have been well spent.

And in my own life, if I can't be Asian, at least I can continue to seize what life the Lord has yet in store for me and really LIVE it.  So the next time you see a gray haired lady climbing walls at the rock climbing center, or hang gliding from the Palisades, or helping to lay sidewalk in the Bahamas, don’t walk on by, and don’t tell her she’s too old to be doing that stuff – just wave and say hi, it just might be me! 

And someday, if you happen to be visiting a nursing home and you see someone sitting in a wheel chair looking lonely, look her in the eye, smile and say: So tell me about yourself - and I will!

Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young and Ringing Phones

Jim and I went out to dinner tonight.  About half way through the meal the familiar strains of Crosby, Still, Nash and Young start going through my mind:  “If you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with.”  I probably went for years without the words to this song going through my mind – until the age of the cell phone.  Now they come into my mind all the time.  Like tonight at dinner. . . .

Jim and I are quietly chatting and eating our meal when a phone rings.  For a minute it only registers as incongruous.  My mind asks itself: Why is a phone ringing in a crowded restaurant dining room?  And then I remember, it’s the age of the cell phone. 

But the phone didn’t just ring.  The person at the next table, who was sharing her dinner with two children and an older lady I assumed was her mother, answered.  For some reason the person on the other end of her phone didn’t answer back right away, so the lady felt she had to ask three times, “Who is this?”, before hanging up.  I could feel myself becoming crazed!  It wasn’t long after that another lady at a table nearby also took a phone call, and left her husband to eat his dinner in silence while she chatted away.  All of a sudden, there they were again, Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, with their familiar strains of: “If you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with.”

Before cell phones, we would have thought it BEYOND rude to ignore the person on the other side of the table at dinner so that we could talk to someone not even in the same room, sometimes even when they refused to answer back!  We would just have loved the one we were with!  Do you know what it says to me when a person interrupts their time with me to respond to a ringing phone?  It says: “Sorry, but this call is SO much more important than YOU.  I have to take it.”

I often meet people for some informal counseling.  Usually these meetings last for an hour or an hour and a half.  Do you know what I do with my phone?  I shut it off, or I leave it in the car.  If I have to take it with me, I keep it on vibrate and only CHECK the name of the caller if I have to do so.  If I suspect it’s not important I silence it.

When you’re with ME, I want to convey that you are the most important person in my life at that moment.  So, like Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, I’m going to choose to love the one I’m WITH and not the one on the other end of the phone.

When I’m with YOU, I want to feel that I have YOUR full attention.  I want to feel that I’m the most important person in your life at that moment and your time with me has value.

So, the next time I meet with you, you can take that call, but it had better be IMPORTANT, or I just might grab your phone from your hand and submerge it in the nearest liquid available.  You’ve been warned!  :)

REMEMBERING DAD ON FATHER'S DAY '14

My dad died back in 2000.  It has been a long time without him.  As I was sitting in church this morning, listening to several men talk about their dads, I thought about mine.  I feel sad when I think about my dad because it seemed he spent so much of his life either unhappy or angry.  However, I do have some great memories that make him special to me.

When I was in late elementary school, Friday nights were spent with my dad.  We’d have dinner at home and then we’d do something, just us two.  Sometimes we’d go to a movie.  I clearly remember the time I convinced him to take me to see a movie called, “Adam and Eve”, a story right from the pages of the Bible!  The actors were wearing full length body stockings designed to make them look as if they weren’t wearing any clothing.  For years my dad talked about how embarrassed he was to be seeing that movie with his daughter!  As I got older and he told that story, I just thought it was funny!  We always finished up the night at 2 Guys in North Bergen where he’d treat me to at least one 45 RPM record.  (Okay, now I’m dating myself!  Anyone younger than 60 probably won’t know what I’m talking about!).  I loved those nights out with Dad.  They lasted until I reached an age when I didn’t want him to hold my hand anymore.  He was devastated.  I was your typical 14 year old!

Occasionally, we’d travel with the family to visit my mom’s sister Joan who owned an inn in Rehoboth Beach, DE.  Because we were both introverts, we could only take so much visiting, so when we had our chance, we’d sneak off to the boardwalk for some Thrasher’s Fries, and we’d take a long walk.  One of the things I loved about my dad is that because we were both quiet, we didn’t have to talk on these walks.  We simply walked and enjoyed one another’s company.

My dad had a pet name for me, Dossy.  No one else has ever called me by that name, and I’m glad.  It’s dumb. . . but most of all, it was my Dad’s name for me, and his alone. 

My dad frequently told me I was beautiful.  He was prejudiced, and off the mark, but it was kind of him to say so.

It was my dad who gave me such a clear sense that it was okay to be me.  Yes, I was quiet, but so was he.  It’s not easy being quiet in a world where extroverts dominate, believe you me, so Dad’s loving affirmation of me, just the way I was, was probably the most loving thing he did for me.

I was retelling my spiritual journey to someone the other day when I remembered, it was Dad who encouraged me in that.  He and Mom had sent my brother and me to a church just a few doors from our house when I was somewhere between 2^nd and 6^th grade.  They stayed home.  Before that time, we had never attended church. 

Eventually, we moved away from that church, and when I was in middle school, I began to ask my parents to take us to church.  So began the quest, with my Dad, to find a local church.  I remember trying several churches of different Protestant denominations, before we settled on one just across Washington St. Park in lower Union City, New Jersey.  We were both moved by the passionate heart for Jesus that the young pastor of that church had.  From that time on, we went to church as a family and my parents continued to attend churches even after they moved to Florida without us.

I wish I could say that my dad was a believer in Jesus, but I don’t know for sure. He could be moved to tears by a sermon.  He would think about God and read his Bible, but mostly only when he was in ill health, which was on and off for the last 20 or so years of his life.  I know I never saw him experience the joy of the Lord in all his life, however, I still hope he is one of those who greet me when I get to my heavenly home.

On this Father’s Day, I miss him and the connection we always had because we were so much alike.  Thank you Dad for being my dad.

EXPANDING THE KINGDOM THROUGH E MAIL ONE PERSON AT A TIME

When Jim and I were in Florida back in April I had a phone call from someone whose name I didn’t recognize.  He was from an organization which sprung out of Campus Crusade for Christ and which endeavors to share the gospel all over the world.  I had completely forgotten that about 2 years ago now I had expressed an interest in volunteering.  And then, life intruded, as it has a way of doing.  Now, however, his call reactivated my interest.  Within a couple of days I had filled out the application form, including references, and sent it in.  I’m into my fifth week of hands on training and I am in awe of what the Lord is up to in this world in which we live! 

Each day an e mail comes into my inbox from some far flung corner of the world from an individual who has logged onto our website. There they can find lots of information about the gospel of Jesus Christ, including how to have a personal relationship with Him, plus discipleship information for new believers.  When they respond with a decision, or even just interest, or they have a specific prayer request, their e mails come to us volunteers and we respond.

In these few short weeks I have had about 30 opportunities to share the gospel, and it has been AWESOME!  All over the world there are people who are hungry for Jesus and asking for help to know Him – even in places where doing so might have dire consequences for them. I have been asked to pray for them to resist temptation, for family members to come to faith, for help in growing to know Jesus and walk with Him. And I have been asked questions about heaven and how to recognize the voice of God and the work of the Holy Spirit in someone’s life.  This is amazing, satisfying, kingdom expanding, God glorifying work. 

If you have ever become discouraged about the spiritual state of the world, let me tell you, the Lord is at work, powerfully, in ways we cannot yet see. 

If you’d like to know more, contact me via Facebook.

 

 

MY 97 YEAR OLD ROLE MODEL

If you’ve been reading my blogs then you know that last June I trained to be a hospice volunteer.  Two things came together to move me in that direction.  The first was the truly blessed experience I had with my own mom in the last 5 weeks of her life, the last few days of which she spent in a hospice home in Florida. By itself, that may not have been enough to move me to volunteer, but the Lord was at work in my heart in a way that moved me to do so.  I’d been convicted some time before about how nearly all of my ministry was centered in my church with my brothers and sisters in Christ.  I knew the Lord was moving me to change that.  So, when I saw a flyer at my church from a local hospital’s Visiting Nurses Association advertising hospice training, I signed up.  The rest, as they say, is history.

Since I began I’ve been blessed to serve many people at the end of their lives.  Some were in their homes, others in nursing homes or other care facilities.  As is usually the case, I volunteered to bring THEM comfort or encouragement or companionship, but in the process I am the one who receives the greatest blessing. 

A few weeks ago, an Alzheimer’s patient I’d been visiting for more than 6 months, died.  Although communication with him was difficult, even at the beginning, at the end it was almost non-existent, yet communicate he did.  Once, he affectionately brushed my face with his hands, another time he blew me kisses when I was leaving.  Often he implied, in perfectly lucid speech, that I surely had better things to do with my time than visit him.  As his condition deteriorated, it was enough just to sit with him and speak to him, even though he rarely responded.  I was sad when I heard the news that he had died.

Currently, I’m visiting with a 97 year old woman.  How I love those visits!  We talk about our families and we chat about her life experiences.  As I was praying for her on my way to my weekly visit, I thought about what we might talk about.  What I wanted to tell her is that when I grow up, I want to be just like her!

One of the things about aging that really bugs me is that the older we get the more our conversation tends to revolve around getting old.  While we may once have talked about world affairs, books we’ve read, places we’ve gone, now we talk about our ailments, our medications, our doctors, our surgeries.  Where we once may have experienced the joy of being alive, now we talk about all the physical trials we have on the way to being dead.  We’ve all been around elderly folk who do nothing but complain about all this – as if it’s somehow a surprise.  I don’t want to be that kind of elderly person.

My 97 year old friend is not like that and that’s why she is my role model for aging well.  For one thing, I have never heard her criticize or complain about her family.  She’s so proud of each one and freely brags about them and their accomplishments.  Her lack of complaining puts me to shame for all the complaining about people that I do! 

She is experiencing all the limitations of age, but instead of being taken by surprise by them, or lamenting over all she’s lost, she accepts them as part of the process.  She makes the best of what she’s still able to do by taking advantage of all that her living situation offers.  I can’t tell you how much complaining I do over the most minor annoyances!

She is never cranky, cantankerous, or edgy.  She is cheerful, gregarious, funny and wise, often giving me advice on what is to come!

Whenever I’ve tried to tell her how much I appreciate the way she has accepted the aging process and how much it encourages me, she brushes me off.  I love that about her too.

My day is coming and I already realize many of the negative qualities in myself that just might make me the kind of elderly person I don’t want to be!  But my friend is teaching me, it doesn’t have to be that way.  I can refuse to complain about my losses, my illnesses, my medications, my dependence on others.  Instead, I can choose to accept the process and in so doing I can be an encouragement to those around me, even when I’m 97, should the Lord choose to give me that many years.

If you’re reading this blog and you and I happen on one another in the years ahead and I begin complaining about aging – feel free to smack me upside the head!

 

DOGS, CATS, AND AUGUST ADVENTURES

I was reading a previous blog this morning entitled, “I’m sorry Mrs. Elwood, but you have cancer”, when it came to me: August has often been the Lord’s chosen month for revealing His glory to me through some amazing faith adventures!  It was in August, 2004, that I was diagnosed with cancer.  It was the end of July into August that I went on my first mission’s trip to New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina.  And it was in August of last year that I donated a kidney.  Interesting, huh?  That leads me to share a book.

 “Dog and Cat Theology”, by Bob Sjorgren, was featured in a workshop I attended at my yearly Tuscarora Retreat earlier this month.  The author begins by describing dogs and cats like this:

·        A dog says: “You love me, you feed me, you take care of all my needs – YOU must be God”.

 

·        While a cat says: “You love me, you feed me, you take care of all my needs – I must be God”.

The author also cites something I had never heard, but those who have had dogs or cats as pets might confirm:  Dogs have masters.  Cats have staff.  Funny, huh?

As I write this our cat Pippin is sitting at my feet boring holes in me with his eyes.  He’s trying to get this member of his staff to provide “something”, although I haven’t figured out yet what it is.  It’s too early for his dinner, too late to share my lunch, so what else could it be?  I have no idea, but I’m sure it requires MY doing something for HIM. A dog would undoubtedly just gaze up at me with complete adoration.  Back to the book!

The interesting part of the book is when the author ties in his observations about dogs and cats to Christians.  He explains that some Christians are more like dogs.  They recognize all that the Lord has done and they become worshipers - completely enamored with the goodness and greatness of the Lord.  For them, it’s all about HIM.

Other Christians are more like cats.  They also recognize all the Lord has done and they are blown away by those things.  For them, its proof that God’s blessing is all about THEM.  Not a wrong view, says the author, just an incomplete one.  And he says, accurately, I think, that many of us are much like cats, but we long to be dogs.

Thinking about those August revelations of God’s glory reminds me of how much I want to be a DOG!  I want to look at those experiences and recognize God’s greatness!

What did I learn about Him in our August adventures?

·        His strength is made perfect in weakness.  When I am most physically, emotionally or spiritually weak, and yet, I carry on – it’s God’s strength on display! 

·        He is Jehovah Shalom, “Prince of Peace”.  He “owns” peace.  His peace transcends the natural.  His peace is supernaturally activated in those places where our natural default would be FEAR.   Who could DO that but God?

·        He is the God who Sees.  He sees those we often overlook and invites us to BE Jesus to them so they too can see His glory.

·        He is omniscient. He knows where to find the kidney of a 35 year old in a 66 year old person and then He calls that person to share it with someone else.

·        He has a voice and He calls His own by name.  Sometimes He calls them on “not to be missed” adventures. 

·        He allows His children to go through deep valleys so that He can reveal Himself to be the Almighty One, Comforter, Ever Present Help, and Healer.

When I act like a cat, I think He did all those things just to bless ME.  When I’m acting like a dog, I realize, He did all that so He could bless me, but more than that, He did all those things so that I might SEE and WORSHIP HIM and BRING HIM GLORY!

I wonder what new glories of God’s work and character He will reveal THIS summer.  I can’t wait to see, so I can share them with YOU!