Twelve Twelve Twelve

I should be in bed.
I'm not.
I'll pay for this tomorrow.
But today, it's OK.
I'm up living the last of some history...
12-12-12.
I like it that I'm squeezing out some of the last bit of this historic time frame.
In addition to being up,
I'm also going to celebrate by making a decision,
A very important decision,
A big decision,
A remarkable decision.
Give me a minute.....
......................
..............................
.............
....................................

.........................

........ 
.................................... There. Now. I did it.
I made that very important decision.
Very important....on 12-12-12.
Now I can get ready to go to bed.
Gotta get some sleep
So I can begin to start moving forward 
With my decision beginning on 12-13-12.
Remarkable.

Even though it was four years ago,
some days you're like,
"What happened? Hey....anybody....what happened?"

You saw it with your own eyes.
You experienced it with your own life.
You were there when everything changed.

But still
When you least expect it,
When you are goofing around
Or just lying upside down on the sofa,
You wonder to yourself and to the world,
"What happened??"

And then you get up,
Go back to eating,
Or playing,
Or sleeping, 
And get on with the mission of living.

December 7, 1935 -- November 24, 2008

Shirley Armistead Hardin Neville . . .my beloved Mom

“Death—the last sleep? No, it is the final awakening.” ~ Walter Scott

Four Years Ago Pre-T-giving Week

Four years ago this week
            We were talking about the meal
                     And planning what you'd make

And what you were going to buy from the grocery
        And what I'd make when I got there.
                                   You always got excited about Thanksgiving.

Me too.

Love you. Miss you. Thankful for you.

 

A Tear and a Smile


Everything is fast and loud and busy and full.

Except when I pause

And admire the amber light of dusk--your favorite time of day--

or

Enjoy the first little decorative Christmas trees for sale in our gift shop that I know you would be tempted to buy 

or

Run my fingers over the little diamonds in your gold cross necklace that you never took off from around your neck
or

Drop away into an imagined conversation of what I’d say if we could talk on the

phone while I drive home from work
or

Snap awake again to the steel-cold reality of my life and heart reshaping
from the inside out
and from the outside in
after you died.

I go at a fast pace a lot, enjoying the thrill of ministry connectiveness, problem solving, and being used in healing moments.

The mixture of
work and busyness, 

loss and grief, 

reinvention and spiritual renewal, 

and the sheer fact of missing you 

and missing our family togetherness 
is so vividly present during this season.

No matter. . .
I smile and am grateful to God so very often
because you happened.

I love you, Mommie.

Quote from Dr. Seuss:

“Don't cry because it's over,

smile because it happened.”



Remembering my beloved "Mommie" 12/7/1935--11/24/2008



"You created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb."  --Psalm 139:13

 

Jesus said, "I am the light of the world" (John 8:12). 

He is the Dawn-Breaker for any weary pilgrim on life's path.

“Pray

 that your loneliness

 may spur you

 into finding something to live for,

 great enough to die for.”

                          ~ Dag Hammarskiold (Swedish diplomat, economist, and author - 1905-1961)

“Heaven goes by favor.

If it were by merit,

You would stay out

And your dog would go in.”

~Mark Twain

Good-bye Beloved Chloe

9/23/12

“Until one has loved an animal,

A part of one’s soul

Remains unawakened.”

~ Anatole France

Pajama Pants and Home

God has favored her.

  Gigs to speak.

  Times to teach.

  Songs to sing.

  Writings touching hearts.

  Lives are trained.

  Hearts are changed.

God has favored her.

  Friends surround.

  House is sweet.

  The Lunch Bunch teases.

  The cat cuddles.

God has favored her.

  Writing.

  Painting.

  Singing.

  Playing guitar.

  Wishful drums.

God has favored her.

  Not a lot of money

  But car is good.

  Clothes are bought.

  Savings grow.

  Projects are accomplished.

  Trips are taken.

God has favored her.

  But she left her pajama pants

  By mistake

  In the hotel room

  In the other state

  Where she grew up.

  They are mailing them COD

  To her.

  But how, how

  Can they return

Mt. Juliet, Tennessee

  Her longing

  For her home?

She is favored and so blessed in one place

While her heart loves and longs for another….

The House of Cards

The last one or two cards still stand

But only for a short while.

This card house is almost down.

Gone.

Chapters and book closed.

Her pain throbs because

She knows

This deck of cards

Will never be again.

Yet it's a few, old cards from her past, who,

With a twinkle in their eyes and 

Holy laughter in their hearts,

Feed her raspberry pie

and advise, “Move forward." 

How did they know she was stuck,

Aching for what was behind;

Empty with what is;

Afraid in what might never, ever be?

She grabs the last of the boxes,

Loads a piece of furniture,

Rescues a recipe or two.

Makes polite conversation.

Then says a silent good-bye to the few cards left standing

Before the door is closed,

Before those last cards fall

For good.

And that, that . . . is her hope.
             

"Surely . . . goodness, mercy, and unfailing love 

shall follow me all the days of my life 

and through the length of my days 

the house of the Lord [and His presence] 

shall be my dwelling place." 

~ Psalm 23:6, Amplified Version

The Brimming Edge

Bending down I touch her arm.

She holds her gaze towards her baby

In the hospital bed.

What can I do? I ask.

I’m OK she says.

I believe it.

She’s had to be.

How else could she have taken care of

Her baby

For all these decades.

Now her child is slipping away breath by breath

While she waits

Sitting in perfect posture in the straight back chair

In her little suit.

Stalwart.

Full of prayer and trust

In her God.

Not just God but her God.

Through all the years of suffering and trial

She has become familiar with God.

With a groan I push myself up from a squatting position.

I speak a short prayer,

And she whispers “in the name of Jesus” throughout my little words.

I’m self-centered enough

And insecure enough

To wonder if this little, old saint

Knows how shallow I am.

Regardless, 
I am with her,

With her grown baby,  

With the presence of God

At this brimming edge of loss.

by Candace K Hardin

Thank you, Lord, for the much needed rain!

"Some people walk in the rain. 

Others just get wet."  

                                                     ~ Roger Miller

I hope to be walking in the rain soon . . . .

Staycation Day 9 and Non-Vacay Days Following....

Bathroom finished with everything back in place  . . . and a few new things as well. Whew!

Had a meltdown about Zach the Cat. He's been puny for days. Looked like he was repeating his sick self on Staycation Day 9 the same way he did over Memorial Day weekend when I took him to the emergency animal hospital and signed over my car to them as a down payment. (Only kidding . . . I simply took out a second mortgage.)


But as I was calling my vet on Staycation Day 9 to try to get Zach in for an emergency check-over, Zach suddenly perked up and began swatting his play mice around the house. I canceled the appointment and hoped he wouldn't die over the weekend. 
So far so good. He's actually 
seeming much better. He's 
eating, playing, exploring . . .
just like the old, mischievous 
Zach. As for me, I need to see a 
cat counselor 
or whatever......


After I stored my bathroom paints in the shop and got over I'm-scared-my-cat's-dyin' cryin', I met a couple of friends for supper. What a joy. 


So grateful for friends, an improved cat, an improved bathroom, and time to enjoy my home and life.


Even though the Staycation is over, 

it will live on 
in my newly painted and decorated bath and, 
hopefully, 
in my l-i-f-e!


Grateful.

Staycation Day 8

New paint colors are on my bathroom walls! Yea!

One more coat tomorrow! (sigh)

Then I'll put the bath back together again...

shower curtain up, 

towels out, 

silk flowers arranged, 

rugs down,

wall hangings hung. Yea!

But tonight . . . 

tonight is the next to last night of my staycation.

It's almost over.

I already miss it......

Staycation Day 7
I've painted four different color places on the bath wall. 
Trying to decide.
Ceiling is painted. Needs one more coat. No roller. Had to use a brush. 
Neck hurts.
Tape is up and ready.
Drop cloth is down.
But which color?
Maybe I will know in the morning.....

Staycation Day 6

Scraped on my bathroom plaster walls and ceiling today. Then spackled. 

I used to love to spackle. 

After the awful spackle job I did on the walls, 

I can't remember why I loved it. 

The spackling was going so badly 

that I stopped and went to the computer 

and Googled "how to spackle a wall." 

Watched two videos 

where I understood I was supposed to "feather" 

the spackle outward so to avoid lines and thickness.

Let's just say my drying spackled walls remind me a bit 

of Vincent van Gogh's "Starry Night" Impressionistic art.

I'll get to sand a lot on Staycation Day 7.

Staycation Day 5

This morning 

I sat out on my deck 

drinking coffee 

and watched a turtle 

amble across my back yard

towards the wild, ivy-jungle section

which makes a nice turtle home.

Good times.

Love Wins

The following is an excerpt from the blog of Deacon Lex. He speaks insightfully to the heartache of  suffering and of God's presence.

Monkey Butt

           If God really loves us so much why does he allow bad things to happen?

*

        Before retiring, I worked at Hackensack University Medical Center. At least once each day I would ride the elevator in The Tomorrows Children Building. Frequently I would share that elevator with young children who were very sick. One day I stepped into the elevator with a young boy, about five years old, and his mother. He was in a motorized wheelchair and appeared to be paralyzed from the neck down ─ a condition that I assumed had been present from birth. He was unable to speak but could mouth words that his mom could understand. I was overcome by a feeling of pity for him and his mother; and in my head I started asking a recurring question, Why God? Why do you let such suffering exist?

         I was distracted from my thoughts by the laughter of the boy’s mother. She giggled to her son, “No, you’re a monkey butt!” His eyes were bright with laughter as he mouthed the words back to her, “No, you’re a monkey butt!” The playful bantering between this mother and child, who obviously loved each other very much, kept up as she wheeled him off the elevator and to whatever life-sustaining treatment he was getting that day.

        As I stood alone in the elevator I realized that I had been in the presence of God. God was very much there in the flow of love that went between that mother and child. No matter how much pain and anguish lived in that mother’s heart, no matter how debilitated that little boy was, their hearts were totally open to each other, open wide enough to allow themselves to share the gift of laughter and silliness. God was present in the center of the cross that was shared by that mother and child, just as surely as he is present in the center of the cross that hangs over our parish altar. Our loving God is with us in the midst of all the bad things, all the suffering we experience.

        And in witnessing that scene and experiencing that presence of God between mother and child, I can almost understand why God permits suffering.

        The bad things that happen and the suffering that exists in life are locked in a moment in time. But God, as well as each one of our immortal souls, is timeless; yet God is with us here in time, holding our hand through the suffering. Some day, when we are free of the limits of our human existence, all the pain and suffering will somehow make sense.

        If we could see eternity and the timeless love that awaits us with God, the sufferings that we witness and endure here in life might more easily be understood. God is so good to us that he shows us his face in the suffering. All we have to do is look; all we have to do is listen. God is present in the simplicity of the wind. God is present even in the silliness and the laughter of a word like "monkey butt."

By Deacon Lex

Deaconlex.blogspot.com

"Grace, like water, flows to the lowest part."

 -- Philip Yancey

“Mommie”

From her son, Brad, and her daughter, Kay.

This is a memorial we wrote about our mother after her death on November 24, 2008.

Mommie gave us a love of beauty and nature.

She said that, during the winter, the trees on the horizon looked like lace in the sunset.

She always reported to us how many “hummers” had been at her feeders in the summer.

She loved her flowers in the spring and had Dow digging and planting to put her flowers in.

She couldn’t wait to see her Iris and Daffodils come up.

During the fall, she loved the leaf colors and autumn smells.

She taught us not to be afraid of storms.  In many storms, she would have us standing at the picture window watching the beauty of the wind, rain, and lighting.

We miss the beauty of Mommie’s life.

Mommie gave us a love for music. 

When she was young, she used to play for hours on our old upright piano. 

The song “Red Sails in the Sunset” will always remind us of her.

She loved  listening to classical jazz and Windham Hill instrumentals.

Years ago, she loved to twist to Elvis on her “Hi-Fi” record player.

We miss the music of Mommie’s life.

She gave us a love for home-made cooking.

There’s nothing like Mommie’s cooking.

Her cooking was more than food substance to us.

The aromas coming from her kitchen and the taste from her food fed our soul and spirit.

We miss her chicken-on-egg bread, potato salad, fresh-brewed tea, chocolate and chess pies, her scrape-and-eat sausage (because she didn’t want us to get trichinosis), her homemade yeast rolls, and her many soups.

There will never be another cook like our Mommie.

We miss the flavor that came from Mommie’s life.

She gave us a love for home.

When we came in from Little Rock or Maryville,

She greeted us with a large hug and a kiss.

She would run down to Blockbuster with us

To pick out movies to watch during the evenings.

She’d make it fun when we’d go grocery shopping together.

Throughout the years she welcomed our birds, cats, dogs, and friends.

When it was time for us to go back to our houses,

She’d slip a $20.00 bill in our hands and say, “This is for your gas.”

Then she would stand at the porch and wave us off.

She said she always hated to see us go.

Now we know how she felt.

Our hearts will forever hurt to see her go.

We love you, Mommie.

                                                  “Her children respect and bless her.”

Proverbs 31:28

Bundle in Pink

A while back when I was at one of our several locales of BAPTIST HEALTH hospitals, I was on my way towards a morning coffee and snack when I heard a screaming baby. As I kept walking towards my destination, there was this little three or four month old anchored in her stroller next to her grandfather. He was attached to an oxygen cannula and seemed to not have much leeway or energy to intervene. He could only sit helplessly by. 

I asked the grandfather--over the blood-curtling, tear-flowing screams of the baby girl--if I could please hold her. He welcomed me to please try. 

Soon I was cradling that little, sniffling, dressed-in-pink baby. She somewhat laid her head on my shoulder as I walked her in circles around the table where her grandfather sat. I patted her on the back and spoke gentleness to her. Still she tuned up pretty strong after a minute or two. It was her mother (who was in line in the cafeteria) that she really wanted. 

I handed the baby back to the grandfather. By that time the crying and screaming had renewed to its original pitch. Soon the mama appeared and scooped up her baby and all the crying INSTANTLY stopped. She thanked me for trying.

I love it when I get to love like that at work. 

I love it when I get to see love in action like the baby for her mom and the mom for her baby.

Most of my work is filled with trauma, sadness, and grief. It's a good day when part of it is filled with a little bundle of pink . . . even if it was screaming.

Amen.....

“Spring flowers are in blossom all over. The whole world’s a choir – and singing! Spring warblers are filling the forest with sweet arpeggios.”

~ Song of Solomon 2:12

Little Ways of Grief -- Day 7

The LORD is close to the brokenhearted 

and saves those 

who are crushed in spirit.

~ Psalm 34:18

Little Ways of Grief -- Day 6

We must accept finite disappointment, 

                                     but we must never lose infinite hope.

                                                                               ~Martin Luther King

Little Steps of Healing -- Day 6

Too often we underestimate 

the power of a touch, 

a smile, 

a kind word, 

a listening ear, 

an honest compliment, 

or the smallest act of caring—

all of which have the potential 

to turn a life around.  

~ Leo Buscaglia

Little Steps of Healing -- Day 5

A pearl is a beautiful thing 

That is produced by an injured life.

It is a tear from the injury of the oyster.

The treasure of our being in this world

Is also produced by an injured life.

If we had not been wounded,

                             If we had not been injured,

Then we will not produce the pearl.

~ Stephan Hoeller