Missing Grandma

My grandma died last January, just shy of her 92nd birthday. These pictures were taken the morning of her birthday.
Some years, we don't get snow at all. Some years we might get a day here and there. Seldom does it last too long, so we try to drop everything and go play in it when we get the chance.

So to have snow on Grandma's birthday, the first birthday she wasn't here to share it with us, was kind of special.

This will be the first Thanksgiving without her, the first Christmas without her. But I'm sure she will be with us. I miss her sometimes, like today, for some reason. But I'm thankful I had a grandma who loved me. Sometimes we stood nose to nose, sometimes we didn't see eye to eye. I probably criticized her way too much. But I always knew she loved me....ever since I was very little.

I hope I can leave a legacy like that--that when I am gone there will be someone (oh, make that lots of someones) who can say, "We didn't always see eye to eye, but I always knew she loved me."

It's Gonna Be Okay

I'm still chewing on testing the boundaries and getting Egypt out of my system. Pretty meaty stuff. But life has a way of just trouncing on, whether we keep up or not. Orchestra practice comes around every week, whether I have practiced or not!

So here we are, one week out from the elections and I don't feel very prepared at all. There are always ballot measures and both sides always predict dire outcomes if I don't vote their way. And I can seldom see the logic to the arguments. I'm just not cut out for politics. I'd rather deal with people one on one than try to judge or rule or even suggest what should be done in general. I mean, for the most part, I think we have it pretty good, especially compared to the rest of the world. Why do we need to change anything? No government system is perfect, there will always be inequity. Even Jesus noted, "The poor you will always have..."

Politics aside, there is a bigger picture. We got a double whammy at church this week...and it just winds in and out of my life like a vine climbing a trellis. I know I'm going to sound like I'm rambling, but I promise, it all ties together, like this vine--so much so, I can't seem to chop it into little bite-size tidbits. So, here it is....again, just from a little different perspective.

Gordon talked about the prodigal son recently. (If you are not familiar with the story, you can find it in Luke 15:11-32.) Essentially we see the story of a man with two sons, one who is faithful and stays and works for his father and the other who takes his share of the inheritance and squanders it and comes, repentant, back to his father. Of course, the father is delighted to have him back and throws a big party; while the faithful son is jealous.

Then Mark took it one giant step further on Sunday. He told the story of David and Absalom. (You can find this story in 2 Samuel 13-19.) To sum it up, Absalom does a bad thing, flees his father David, and even when he gets word that David is willing to forgive him, still plays the politician and plots to take his throne. In battle, when Absalom gets stuck in a tree, the leader of David's army, Joab, kills him despite David's prior admonition, "Be gentle with the young man Absalom for my sake." And when David learns of this, he weeps.

In 2 Peter 3:8-9 it says, "But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like one day. The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance."

Clearly, God has the father's heart toward the repentent prodigal, and He has David's heart toward the unrepentent Absalom. He has not returned yet because He is not wanting ANYONE to perish, but EVERYONE to come to repentance. Who are we to argue? We clearly need to celebrate over the man we have known for 20 years who FINALLY starts listening to God. But just as clearly we need to make every effort to present even those who are yet unrepentant alive before God, so that HE can deal with them. We don't have God's permission to write ANYONE off--not the one who slips off the wagon again; not the one who has never wanted to hear about God before, so why should I tell him again; not the one who disagrees with me on political issues; not the one who disagrees with me on moral issues; not the guy across the street who yells at his grandkids; not anyone.

It's my job to present the gospel, to be the truest representative of God's heart for other people as I can be. It's God's job to change people's minds; it's God's job to change people's hearts; it's only my job to facilitate that relationship, in any way I can.

No matter who wins the election, it's my job to pray for them. No matter how my neighbors, parents, friends or husband vote, it's my job to love them and to encourage them in their relationship with God. No matter WHO wins, it's gonna be okay.

(And even if the "wrong" guy wins, this is still the best country on earth to live in. )

Control

My oldest brother was always the policeman in the family. Mom would leave him in charge, and I remember as a preschooler I would always push him to the limit, and then one step beyond, which usually ended in a chase and eventually a paddling...but I didn't care much. I liked the game. I think it's human nature to push the limits, to confirm the boundaries. There is a sense of security in knowing where the boundaries are. When I was in college, I read about a study that had been done with children where they put one group outdoors in an area and told them where the boundaries were and another group they put in the same area, but used a rope to delineate the boundaries. The children who had the clear boundary played in more of the allowed area than the children who had only the verbally given boundary. So, knowing where the boundaries are not only gives us more of a sense of security, it also gives us more freedom.

Our indoor cat got out the other day, and it was almost a whole day before we noticed she was missing. When I finally found her outside, she was cold, hungry, and frightened. After I had brought her in and held her and reassured her and warmed her up for a little while, I set her down by the food to eat, but she had something more important to do. I watched her as she explored the house, walking around the perimeter of each room, checking under the couch and the table, walking all through every room that was open. Then she ate. She was checking the boundaries. She was making sure things were where she thought they were, the walls were where she thought they were, the furniture was in place. Once she established that, she felt secure enough to eat.

When I think back over my life, the times I misbehaved the worst were tumultuous times. I felt insecure because of things that were going on in my life and I was "checking the boundaries" by my bad behavior. When my mom left the house and left my brother in charge, I had to check the boundaries. When unexpected things happened, I had to check the boundaries.

I think of Paul, in Romans 7, when he says, "I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do." Keith Green paraphrased it, "The very things I hate, I end up doing. The things I wanna do, I just don't do."

Pastor Gordon spoke Wednesday about "flushing Egypt from our souls". When Moses led the Hebrews out of Egypt, they ended up wandering in the wilderness for 40 years before going into the promised land. They had been slaves in Egypt for generations and no doubt had a slave mentality. Perhaps it took them 40 years to quit "testing the boundaries".

It's that way with us too. God leads us out of Egypt, out of bondage to this world and its rules of operation, out of our slave mentality, and He wants to lead us into the promised land, a land where the rules are different, where we have authority. But every time something changes, we feel insecure and we "test the boundaries"--the very things we hate, we end up doing--just to verify that the "cause and effect" are still the same.

A wise counselor told me, when I was in high school, "Why do you try to control everyone else? The only one you are responsible for is yourself." That was a huge eye opener for me, and very freeing. But I soon learned that I wasn't even very good at controlling myself. The very things I hated, I ended up doing, and the things I wanted to do, I just could not do.

I have said of my son that he was born to be king. He is like me in that. He wants the world and everything in it to be under his control and it is very frustrating for him when it is not--when Mom and Dad tell him to do something he does not want to do....or that interferes with his plans. I think I have just about decided that life in general is really not in my control at all. I can only control my response to it...and sometimes barely that. And I think the reason for that is that I have not flushed Egypt from my system. When something unexpected or undesired happens, I revert to my old ways and start "checking the boundaries".

Maybe when I finally admit that I am not in control, and stop grasping for control of all I can, in any way I can, then perhaps I may actually have some control....not necessarily control over life, but at least over my response to it.

A Tale of Two Men

Cliff & Gma Smiley (Nov 2005)

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.....Oh, wait, that's been done before! How about, it was the worst of times, it was the worst of times? I kind of feel like that has been my story this week. My heart is aching for two men today. One I love because I have known him all my life and I have loved him all my life, and I will love him all my life. There is nothing unlovable about him, really. The other I love because God loves him, I choose to love him, but it is hard. I kinda understand where he is coming from, and I see how his attitude affects his life, and I wish I could help him, but I don't find much lovable about him.

The two men have, ironically, led similar lives. They are about the same age. They are about the same socioeconomic class. They have about the same education. In many ways, they could be brothers. They have both endured big hurts. They both have divorced parents. Both have been married, but neither are now. Neither has children. And right now, they are both struggling with their health. But, they are completely different in their outlooks on life. One has a "Yes, let's!" attitude and the other a "poor me" attitude.

The one is my brother. He had a skin cancer removed almost two years ago, and last winter we got word that it had metastasized. He decided he did not want to go through chemotherapy or radiation. I have been living rather happily in denial, thinking that perhaps the doctor was wrong. From what I had heard throughout the summer, he had been doing okay. I got word today that he is not doing okay. But he is not one to complain. He doesn't want everyone to know he hurts, so he doesn't make a big deal about it. He doesn't want people around him to be sad. He calls things as he sees them, but there is nothing at all malicious about him. And when hard things come, the loss of a job or a grave diagnosis, he has a way of rolling with it. Maybe he worries on the inside, but I never see it.

Yesterday I got a call from a man I have known for a couple of decades. I met him through work. In all the time i have known him, he has never been short of a story about how someone has wronged him. He is always the victim. Nothing is ever his fault. There is very little he finds joy in. He was calling me from the new "resort" in town, Riverbend. Apparently, he pulled out in front of a van doing 45 mph. Hit him right in the driver's side door. Broke about everything on his left side, as you can imagine. He sounded lower than low when he called. Like Eeyore on depressants. But he will get better.

What a contrast in outlooks. What a contrast in my opinion of each. One I want to take his pain on myself so that he won't have to suffer so much. The other I want to slap across the face and say, "Buck up, everyone has it hard!"

I'm sure to God, they are just different types of soil. One needs more sand, the other more humus. I guess I just prefer the one to the other...probably something in my genes.

I wish I knew the end of the story. It will be interesting reading for sure. No lesson today, just observations, and a sad heart.

More on Free Will

I was thinking today--well, it was a nice day, so I was out cleaning in the pasture.
Dr. Root used to say that analogies always have their limits. This is so true of my analogy about free will and pets and grown children. There are parallels to a point, but there are huge limits too. For example, at least in our culture, as my daughter gets older she will become more my "equal". Perhaps this is not so true in other cultures, where the elders are much respected; but I was thinking about Adam, and wondering how many greats he attained in his grandpahood before he died. (I'll have to do the math on that one.) I'm sure it was LOTS, and I suspect that his children, only having one less great in their titles, were on a nearly equal status with him, even IF elders were highly revered back then. On the other hand, no matter how OLD we get, we never even come close to approaching equality with God.

Another limit is in God's provision for us. With the exception of the Israelites wandering in the wilderness and gathering manna daily, and of course isolated individual episodes, by and large God allows us the illusion that we provide for ourselves. We plant the seeds, they grow. We tend the fields, we reap the harvest. He allows us the illusion, if we choose to believe it, that we can survive without His provision. My cats can hunt My dogs can scavange. My horses could break through the fence and head west to lush fields and plenty of water.

I think God allows us the freedom to "provide for ourselves" in order that we don't love Him BECAUSE he is the provider. I don't think He wants us as pets. I think there are times in each of our lives when we have to be trained that He is trustworthy. Today, I mowed some grass for my horses and I took the mower bag out into the pasture to dump it and Pablo pulled back from it. Whenever he shies from something, I make it a point to "desensitize him" to it; because I want him to know that when I am present, he need not fear anything. (When I ride him someday, I don't want him spooking at things.) So he is learning that if he shies from something, it will follow him until he quits moving away from it. He also is learning that if IT is in my hand, it will not hurt him. Anything in my hand is safe, because I am safe.

I think sometimes God lets our "crops fail" so that we will remember to trust Him. It is healthier for us to live without worry--it is healthier for us to trust Him. But it is also essential to our relationship with God that we know we can depend on Him.

An Unfavored Day

Our true character is evident when we try to get through our day and only hit the same brick wall over and over and over. Do we keep butting our head up against it, give up, or look for a gate or a ladder? (or, all of those?)

I suppose my day really started last week when my life (and the lives of those in our homeschool group) touched the life of a woman we don't know who was horribly injured and had to be transported to the hospital in a helicopter, which used the field next to the school we were in as a landing area. She has been on my heart very much ever since. Top that off with the fact that the same day in the mail I recieved a letter notifying me that my adopted grandmother had died earlier in the week, not unexpectedly, but still final. And so I have been emotionally exhausted.

G woke me up at the usual o'dark hour and I was tired. I had not slept well, but did not remember why until later in the day. My friend had brought me some fantastic grapes Saturday and I should have made grape juice of them Sunday, but had too much work to do, having taken Saturday off to rest. So I had called L on Sunday to see if she would come help me, and she said she would come Monday afternoon.

So I spent the morning cleaning the kitchen. It took a good portion of the morning, finding all I needed and washing jars... During lunch L called and said she couldn't come until evening, as she had forgotten she had lessons in the afternoon. Oh, well, K would help. I needed sugar and lids, and so was planning to go to Safeway, but K wanted to come, so I found things to do until he was ready. And then there's always the "while I'm there we also need...". I had almost bought some stew meat the other day, thinking that sounded really good on these cool, rainy days, so I found a lesser expensive roast (nothing at Safeway could ever be called cheap these days, especially beef!) and had the butcher cut it into stew meat for me--did you know they would do that? Saved me a lot of time and fingers. But they had no canning lids. So we went over to BiMart...no lids there either, unless you bought jars to go with them. (I have no shortage of jars, some dating back half a century!!)

So I'm standing in the aisle at BiMart, my eyes filling with tears, thinking of those lovely grapes. Then I remember that L probably has lids left over from canning peaches last year. So I go home, call her and ask...I have a key, so I go over and sure enough, lots of lids. While I'm there I nab her canner (which turned out to be MY canner) but it has no basket, and in my cursory scan of her garage, I see no baskets. So I get home and start washing grapes to put in jars...but as I'm getting ready to put the jars in the canner, I realize I don't have any baskets either (you know, the wire frames that keep the jars from 1) sitting on the bottom of the canner where they will get too hot and break and 2) banging together and breaking during the boiling process). So I call and leave L a message that when she comes, she needs to bring the wire baskets, as I left them all at her house when we canned peaches...and wide mouth bands too, please.

So I start the stew, thinking at least I can accomplish SOMETHING. The meat is cooking, but when I look in the fridge, the only onion is inedible...and there is no celery...and, as a last resort I check the garlic, but that also is moldy. WAH! So I go to the office to lament to G, and L calls and says she doesn't know where J put those things when he cleaned the garage. And I ask G if he will get me some onion and celery, as I'm pretty much exhausted and don't want to inadvertantly kill someone (yup, I'm in a fine state of mind--even though this whole time, there is that little thought in the back of my head, 'you really do have it very easy'--yup, when I can cry about not finding canning lids at BiMart, I know I'm absolutely spoiled!). Gary clearly does not want to go get onions and celery. So I just pack it in. There is no way past this brick wall. The grapes will not wait one more day. I have no guarantee that L will be able to find those racks...The way my day is going, if I stood there and washed all the grapes and put them in jars in anticipation, she would not be able to come....and even if I made the grape juice in concentrate form, I would have no way to store it unless I put it in bags and froze it.

So I went to bed. Gave up. Finally, G consented to getting celery and onion, and I got my stew going...And then, as I was nibbling on a roll, I realized why I did not sleep well. I had had nightmares about losing K. And I had had my recurring nightmare of my teeth falling to pieces and me spitting them out in little bits. And I realized that a molar I had broken a third off last spring and had a temporary filling in, about which the dentist's office called last week to ask if I wanted to make an appointment to get that crown--that molar was missing its temporary filling. Either I had spit it out during my nightmare last night, or I just swallowed it with that bite of roll. Fun.

But the ladder over my wall finally came in the form of L, carrying another canner, every rack I owned, more lids and a box of bands.

We got all the grapes processed, no one died, and my precious L once again saved the day, tired as she was as well.

Of course, K did not want to go to sleep last night. He has been having nightmares about who knows what, he won't say. Monsters I suspect, as he won't come down off his bed at times. So I taught him how to change the dreams, and I also gave him my secret sleeping weapon from when I was little. I told him to ask Jesus to come hold him in His arms, and then K could sleep and not worry, becuae Jesus would not let anything bad happen to him. Then I took some of my own advice. I think I slept clear through the night.

(side note: when I went to get that tooth refilled, the dentist said I had broken more of that tooth off as well, which is probably what I was spitting out in the middle of the night, and probably is now buried deep in the carpet.)

Free Will (Relationships with Adult Children)

I stood in the rain watching K's soccer game this morning, standing next to and making friends with the wife of the man who called K a "bully" this summer during swimming. My mind keeps going back to that. I guess it hurt more and is harder to forgive than I thought, since it keeps coming to mind...or perhaps I haven't learned all I need to from it yet? But I was thinking, in K's case, anything that looks like "bullying" is K trying to build relationships with other kids, but not fully knowing how to do that, added to the fact that K doesn't understand yet the concept of "free will". But then, many people don't. I would almost go so far as to say that most people don't, given the abundance of controlling behaviors I see in people and how angry people get at God for allowing bad things to happen--myself included. It's a tough concept.

I often wonder if my animals think of me as 'god'. They pretty much see me as chief cook and masseuse, and occasionally will come to me if they need something else. They also offer up sacrifices. (I can think of at least 3 live snakes this summer, and quite a few mice, in all states of health.) --Of course, I do have one cat, Nermal, whom I know does not think of me as 'god' but rather 'servant', and quite possibly as 'dumb servant who doesn't speak cat'. The utterance she offers when I open the door is as likely "What took you so long!" as it is "Thank you." But by and large they acknowledge that I am provider. The days I am late with breakfast there is an awful lot of mewing, whining and whinnying going on.

And our young children...that is, those who do not yet have an income, do not pay rent to us, and take the meals and refrigerator and laundry and cleaning service for granted--understand their dependence on us and obey us chiefly because we wield the power of comfort and survival. We would like to think they obey us because they love us, and, depending on their degree of maturity, they might; but mostly I think they obey because we hold the keys to the refrigerator, the car and soccer practice (cell phone, nintendo, etc...you fill in the blanks). Their love for us is based on dependence more than free will. (I love you because I need you.)

But where we see free will is in our relationships with our adult children. My sister, once she got away from home, seldom looked back. Now in her 40s, she might contact Mom and Dad once a year, twice in a good year. Or she may go years without contacting them at all. On the flip side is my precious daughter. She could go as far away as she liked, but she lives a mile from me. She chooses to be a part of my life. Sometimes I ask, sometimes she volunteers, but by and large, we are friends. She chooses a relationship with me. She doesn't have to. She has a husband, a job, her own house. She doesn't need me for her survival. I can't ground her anymore. Now if she takes my advice on something, it is because she freely chooses to. Her relationship with me now is based on her free will. And it is all the more delightful because of this. The whole house lights up when she comes in the door. (I need you because I love you.)

I love both my children with all that I am. Their love for me is precious to me. I treasure both relationships. But the relationship that is based on free will is all the sweeter because she chooses me. I know she doesn't have to....and oh how painful that would be!...but she does. And it is good--no, it is the best.