Now Comes the Hard Part

     When someone you love dies, even when it is expected, it is a shock. God gives, what I call, gracethesia to get us through those times because there are many things that have to be done in those first days of loss--calls and decisions to make, a memorial to plan, feeding those gathered at your house, thank you notes. A grim business agenda accompanies death. And despite the difficulty, it feels good to do those things, to do what remains to be done to honor the one you love. And then the funeral is over, the guests go home, all that remains are legal matters and paperwork. And those feel like they are of more benefit to nameless bureaucracy, or the survivor, than the person who died.
   Now comes the hard part. After about a month, God begins to back off the grace because a responsible anesthesiologist does not leave his patient numb longer than necessary, even if it causes pain. Numbness is meant to be a resting place, not a lifestyle. Friends and family go back to their own lives and homes, but the bereaved cannot. Their life, their home, will not go back to normal. Their new normal is finding out moment by moment, how to be alone, who to call when being alone is too hard to bear. Or decisions are too difficult to make. Or something breaks. Besides their heart. Healing that will take a long time.
   But I know this only from Griefshare and friends who have lost husbands or children. Those losses are different from the ones I have experienced. Losing my mother seven years ago, made no significant difference in my life, and that is a loss in its own way, I suppose. The hard part of grief is that the monument to their memory is made out of our own tears.

10 If Thens

If you think global warming is the greatest threat to mankind, then Corona virus shouldn't worry you.

If the computer models regarding Covid 19 numbers are wildly inaccurate, then how can we trust them about global warming.

If you don't enjoy waiting in line for limited access to common household products, then you wouldn't like socialism, where that is a way of life.

If you think hoarding is unfair, then socialism is the answer, because  people become too poor to hoard.

If you think toilet paper is the most important need for quarantine, then you will need some new recipes.

If you think access to medical care is limited in the U.S. now, then you would really hate Medicare for All. 

If you think social distancing is confining, then try measuring a casket.

If you think man controls his destiny, then you'd better not get sick.

If you think open borders are a good idea, then you should be okay with letting feverish strangers in your front door.

If you think Covid is scary, then picture pandemic prior to antibiotics and ventilators.

If the odds of dying from Corona virus concern you, then calculate the odds of surviving a concentration camp? Abortion clinic? Never dying?

Quiet Men

 

    Now that my father-in-law's funeral is over, I feel free to post the poem I wrote for him, and for all quiet men God has blessed me with.

Quiet Men

Quiet men do not become famous.

You won’t see their names in the newspaper.

They have followers, but not on Facebook.

They are not posting their exploits on social media

because they are too busy working.

Their followers are those who watch them

 and want to be like them.

Quiet men mow their lawns,

keep the house and car in repair,

mend their sons’ broken toys

 and their daughters’ broken hearts.

They work hard even when no one is watching,

even if their job is boring and unfulfilling,

because their family is depending on them.

Quiet men respect their parents growing up

and take care of them in their old age.

They serve their country and their God,

but not in the ways that get recognition.

They love their wives,

teach their sons what it means to be a man,

and become their daughter’s first hero.

Quiet men help their family,

 friends, and even strangers

without expecting anything in return.

They wear their faith like a second skin.

It is as much a part of their lives as breathing.

Thanks, Del, for your humble walk with God

through life, and all the way home.

What Appears to Be

What Appears to Be

 

In the barrenness of March,

which even the snow abandoned early,

winter appears to be winning.

Tree limbs without a hint of buds,

   the lifeless sod resembles

 a weathered burlap sack.

But beneath the surface,

which still appears abandoned,

  spring is patiently waiting.

Sap, to awaken the sleeping trees

new grass, to invade its dormant cover

like an unseen army.

In the valley of the shadow

where you, my loved one, hover

death appears to be winning.

But as your soul abandons

its lifeless shell, Jesus awaits

and endless life appears.

Widow's Walk

    Some older homes on the seacoast have a rooftop platform known as the widow's walk. From that height, women could see if their husband's ship had made it safely back to harbor. I think of that sometimes--the widow's walk--because in the back of our minds, most married women know we will spend the end of our lives alone, as widows. Statistics show it. But we are not married to statistics, statistics do not take into account how much we love our husbands. We watch our friends go through it. Two friends whose husbands dropped dead so suddenly their bodies needed a couple more days to realize it was time to shut down. A friend from church, who had two weeks with her husband between diagnosis of late stage cancer and the complications of chemo that ended his life. Some who had more time to let go, some who had less. Our minds accept it. But our hearts, our hearts are never ready. Only God can give us the grace to endure the tearing of the one flesh relationship that marriage is designed to be.
     There is no turning back, no way to shelter our hearts from the pain to come. What anchors us is the truth God will never allow anything in our lives that He will not give us the grace to bear. So when our husbands travel beyond our sight, safe, but in another harbor, we enter the widow's walk. We no longer have a choice except to watch, through the storm raging around us, for the daily arrival of God's grace.

(For Pat, in the storm)
     

What They're Not Saying

     There have been television commercials lately that appear to be directed at the use of recreational marijuana. They show a healthy young couple at home, each unaware that their significant other is post-recreation. In both, the admittedly high woman asks her high guy to do something not terribly difficult--driving in one ad, slicing a pineapple in the other. Her honey is too toasted to catch the car keys the stoned sweetie tosses him and, in his imagination, attacks the pineapple with a machete. But magically he is not too tanked to make the wise decision not to actually try such complicated tasks. What they are saying is, it is okay to get high for no reason on an ordinary day, but get high responsibly. The obvious logical fallacy in that, is that people who are too drugged to drive a car or even slice a pineapple, have already made irresponsible decisions.
     And what the ads are not saying is that neither adult in that household is capable of functioning as an adult. What if the husband cut himself while decapitating the pineapple and needed to get stitches. Not something you'd call an ambulance for. Even if they got a ride to the emergency room, who would fill out the paperwork? Which partner will handle the scam phone calls? Bank account? Look for the lost dog? And what they are not showing, are the children who would most likely be caught in their wasted wake.
    The drinking equivalent of these ads, show people who have just finished partying, but wisely choose not to drive themselves home. Next they can try drunk parents at home magically making good decisions about their children. But if they wanted to make ads that were more reality than show, they would need to include the yelling, fighting, crying children, and visit from the police that are part and parcel of the plastered package. No matter how many ads they add, there is no way to be irresponsible responsibly. What they say simply doesn't "ad' up.
 

When God Came Down

    The book of Hebrews has always eluded me. I understood the contents, in the sense that humans can, and that, in large part, it is a contrast between the old covenant sacrificial system and the superiority of the new covenant Jesus provided by sacrificing Himself. But I am a big picture person. I approach Bible passages with three main questions:  What is this about?  Why is it in the Bible?  What does it have to do with me? Viewing Hebrews as a Jewish doctrinal equivalent of the book of Romans did not help me answer the last two questions. The answer to question two came through BSF, where I learned the recipients of Hebrews, persecuted by both the Romans and the Jews, were tempted to turn their backs on Christ and return to Judaism. Relating to question three, it would be like me returning to Mormonism. I have never been tempted because Mormonism has nothing to offer me but a vague feeling of elitism. Forsaking Christ for Mormonism would be like trading diamonds for dust. Hebrews teaches that the Jewish sacrificial system and temple worship were only a picture of the reality of what Christ offers. There can be no turning back. This was especially important since Herod's temple and with it, the sacrificial system, would be destroyed a few years after Hebrews was written. Finally, I have the glue that holds Hebrews together in my mind.
     As our pastor was preaching in Hebrews Sunday, I began to see that contrast with a symmetry that is one of my favorite types of poetry.

When God Came Down

When God came down to Mt. Sinai,

smoke hid His presence.

The people feared approaching

the God who shook the mountain,

the thunder of His voice.

Their mediator, Moses, ascended

to receive the Law, descended

to find it already broken.

And Moses stood

 with broken tablets at his feet

and empty hands.

When God came down to Bethlehem,

a helpless, naked baby.

Angels approached the shepherds

who shook with fear to hear

the voices of God's messengers.

Our mediator, Jesus, descended

to fulfill the Law, ascended--

when Satan's power was broken.

And Jesus stands

 with outstretched arms and

nail pierced hands.