The Last Page------------

A few days before the election, I got a call from the nursing home.

Stu was requesting help in filling out his ballot, and they are not permitted to help patients with  that.

I was already planning to visit on Sunday, but this made it extra special.

It didn't take long.   He knew how he wanted to vote.  He somehow managed to sign the outer envelope with a shaky signature-----it was good to see him hold a pen and make those strokes.

When we were finished with our little mission, we visited for a bit longer, me showing him pictures of the grandkids, him telling me about Rachel's visit the day before.   She had brought Shayna with her (our oldest granddaughter----she's ten now!)   "I love Shayna", Stu told me (as he has many times before)  "She's such a good artist!"

As I gathered my things to take my leave, Stu seemed reflective and tender.  He was thinking again about our long marriage.  It's one of his favorite subjects, how against all odds we have managed to stay together.  It has been challenging---very challenging----even before the stroke.  The years since the stroke have just been a different level of challenge and suffering.  But miraculously, through all the ups and downs, there has been real devotion, humor, forgiveness, and true love.

His parting words to me as I got ready to say goodbye were:

"It's been a wonderful romance, hasn't it Sue?"  

I had to smile.  

Yes, Stu.....the very best kind.

Stu passed away just few days later, on Friday night.  There was no particular sign the day I visited that he would decline so rapidly at the end and that those would be his last words to me------but as the days unfold after his death, those words shine.  They comfort me and remind me about the best of us together.

 

A wonderful romance indeed.

A beautiful way to sign the last page of his story.

Thank you, Sweetheart!

 

 

Suffering Well

The comment came at the end of one of our Monday visits.  We had just had dinner together in the patio outside the nursing home, and the remains of the meal were waiting on a tray to be taken away by a caregiver-----forlorn remnants of  the kind of meal that is meant to serve a crowd, I think it was spaghetti and bread sticks that night, with iceberg lettuce and a small bowl of canned fruit for dessert.    I have found over the long months that there is wisdom in sharing the kind of food he eats there, entering his reality,  tasting what he tastes.   During the first months of the stroke, I often brought food from home, hoping it would be an encouragement.  Instead, I find that my attention is more valuable, and my ability to be grateful for what is set before us. 

"Next time you see Troy" Stu said, "tell him I'm suffering well"

Wow.

I knew why he said it, and it brought both a smile and a lump in my throat at the same time.

I had to wait two weeks before I saw Troy.  I knew it was a face-to-face kind of message, and I knew I'd see him sooner rather than later.

I saw Troy today at the store where we both shop for supplies.  Troy also is in the food business, and as soon as I caught sight of him coming out of the large walk-in coolers, I blurted out : "Hey, I have a message for you from Stu!   He wanted me to tell you he's suffering well."

Troy's face lit up like a sunrise  "Oh, wow!.......You just made my day!   Wow, that really brings back those conversations we used to have after church......we would just sit side by side and shake our heads at the condition of the world, our own condition, all of it, and we would lament.  And then Stu would say we need to suffer well."

"I know, Troy----he would tell me about it as we drove home.  Those were special times"

"Wow, leave it to Stu........"  I knew what Troy meant-----that poetic way of bringing our thoughts back to the best of what was, and is, and is to come----mixed with a dollop of the Hebrew flair for paradox and mystery.   It's the best of Stu, that poetry.  It's good to see it in action.

Friends, I think Stu would be happy to know that I'm sharing this thought with you, and I hope you will be inspired to join him in, indeed, suffering well.

Until next time

Sue

Smoke Gets in Your Eyes

"One-Eyed" by Stu Mendelson

Some dreams seem so wonderful, so exactly what you want, that it's hard to believe it's not what God has planned for you.

For me, the prospect of sharing my bakery with my kids, having grandkids living on my property, passing on the legacy-----it all seemed so......providential!

But this summer had a surprise for me.  It turns out that there were some serious miscalculations and oversights on all our parts that made that dream (one we had all been nurturing for two years!)  go up in smoke overnight, as decisive as the wildfires that have raged through our region late this summer.    Ouch!   Talk about a rude awakening. In very short order, I found myself  facing a much different landscape than I had been envisioning.    And while the emotional smoke was still thick, it was hard to see anything very clearly.

I share this with you because as I waited for the smoke to clear, I had some powerful Help.  And you know, it's a help that's available to all who ask for it.  Because of the trials I've already endured, I knew something about facing trials----and this was a big one for me!   I want to remind myself as I share with you what really stood firm while my dream shattered.

True vision from God is such a pride-buster!   Whatever form your pride takes, (and it's a sneaky thing, that pride-----it can fool lots of people, and especially you!)  when it's matched up against God's reality, it can't stand up.  It has to get crushed.  And I have to say something about that crushing process-----you have to let it take its course.   It's extremely painful!  You want so much to escape!  But I've found that holding still and remembering who God is, even though you can't see him through all the smoke and rubble right then, is the absolute best course of action.   I have a stockpile of go-to verses that I KNOW to be true, no matter what!   Psalm 139.....Psalm 23.....the entire book of Philippians, the book of James.  The stockpile grows with each new trial, and God becomes more real to me each time.  And you know what, folks?  He is so much more real and lasting than any particular thing you have your heart set on, no matter how worthy.   We all long to know our purpose in life-----and strangely enough, it's intangible.  It's a deep, trusting, abiding relationship with the One who made us.  Oh, happy day when that becomes evident!

What is next?  You know, I don't rightly know.  But I know the One who does----and for now, that is my daily manna.   Praying for a heart of gratitude in the middle of the unknown.  

Until next time!

Sue

Candid

The cast is off----flying horse art by Shayna, signatures by multiple loved ones :-)

Last time I wrote, I had just broken my right wrist, a week before the opening day of Grower's Market.

Notice it's taken me quite a while to write again.

Last Saturday at Grower's Market, one faithful reader (and a longtime friend and customer) commented that he hadn't seen anything new recently, and I found myself blurting out "You know, in some ways I think this most recent difficulty has hit me harder than the stroke, somehow.  So hard that I didn't even want to write about it.  It kinda knocked the stuffing out of me."
He was surprised----"Really?  After all you've been through?"
I was surprised myself, saying it.  And I wondered why it was so true.

So this morning, as I was praying my way through the opening hour of the day, I brought it up with God to be examined.  And even though it would be easy to come up with a whole laundry list of stresses that would explain my exhaustion, I knew that wasn't really it.  True, starting Market with a broken right wrist forced me to manage in new and unfamiliar ways.  It was already going to be a challenge, and this magnified the challenge exponentially!  Add to that equipment issues and repairs, an unexpected car repair,  an unexpected dental bill, my Dad in the hospital during this time, and then a couple of weeks ago a dear friend was lost on Mt. Hood for six nights and we weren't sure she would be found.  (See, I couldn't resist describing some of it----it still impresses me, how intense and relentless it's all been)

But you know, if I get real with God about it, that's not why I felt exhausted.  For one thing, every stress was dealt with and resolved as the weeks went by---things got fixed, I got help paying the bills I couldn't handle,  my wrist got better, my friend was rescued, my Dad got better.  Somehow, though, the sense of short circuiting persisted.

No, the trouble was (and is) in me.  On some level, I don't believe.  I don't say that with any self-accusation or judgement-----as I poured out what I could see about myself to God this morning,  how I cope with stress by stalling or hiding or sulking or avoiding, I was surprised by his gentleness.   There was no pointing finger as I laid it all out before him.  Instead, he brought to light on an old subject I hadn't been considering-----grief.   I am still processing levels of grief that are hard to reconcile.  Indeed, in my human thinking, I can never reconcile them.  Sometimes,  I don't want to know that.  And although my grief has it's own personal twist, I think you might be able to relate.  Don't you have a problem or life circumstance  that just crosses your eyes?  A thorn in the flesh? 

I find that being candid with God is very energizing.  Candid but also curious about what He thinks.  He is good company.  The Best, really :-)  Is my grief resolved?   In him, yes.  In my humanity?  Nope-----but he keeps bringing me back to himself and his sufficiency.  And you know, that's enough.  My daily bread :-)

My go-to verse of late is from Philippians these days :

 " Don't fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray.  Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns.  Before you know it, a sense of God's wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down.  It's wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life"  Phil. 4:5-7, the Message

Needy

Recently, I have been deeply affected by a book on prayer written by Paul Miller called  "A Praying Life" with the subtitle "connecting to God in a distracting world."

I think what really grabs me is the way he points out God's attitide about our helplessness. 

If  I'm really honest, my own least favorite thing to see in myself is need or helplessness.  I love being self-sufficient.  It's the American Way!   I dislike asking for help, I dislike even admitting that I might need it.

But over the past two years of this "Stroke of Genius" path I've been walking,  Stu is not the only one who has had to face his radical need for help.  I have had to ask for help from my church and my friends and family just to make ends meet.  And that has taken me through levels of buried shame and guilt that I hardly knew were there.

As I worked through each newly revealed layer, I've had to call out to my Father in ways that seemed very foreign and painful to me.  Strangely, though, the response I seemed to get from Him was a big smile-----He had been waiting a long time to have conversations like this with me!  Far from having disdain for my need, He seemed to welcome it.  There was also comfort, simple but surprising answers to my problems, patience, forbearance,  delight.  I have to admit, His personality is much different than the perceptions that so often grip our minds.  He really gets some bad press, don't you think?    And we are naturally inclined to believe the lies about Him, it seems to me.  Which makes it all the more delightful, humbling, and penetrating when He reveals His real self to the likes of someone like me.  Wow.

Anyway, that's why Miller's book hit such a nerve.  He's put into words what I've been experiencing!

So here's the kicker:  I'm writing this with a temporary cast on my right wrist.  Not sure how the timing of this could be much worse-----we are one week away from the opening day of Grower's Market!   On Friday night I had a bad fall and landed hard on my right hand, breaking two bones in my wrist.  Aaaargh!   Any fantasies of self-sufficiency are now defunct.  After talking over the circumstances with Jerome, we have agreed that he will pick up the slack, and we will simply move forward with our plans to work together in the bakery.   We will call in help as needed, make what we can,  and laugh about life, and our neediness, and God's sufficiency.  And His great Good Will for us.  I can say that with sincerity, even with a broken wrist!  Now that right there is a miracle!  So if the bagels look a little different this week, you'll know why!  Bear with us, friends, and stay tuned-------the saga continues!!

Appalachian (or should I say Oregonian?) Spring

This year, to date, has been one for the records.(and we aren't even through February!)  You might even call it a comprehensive exam, with situations that forced me to review every lesson I've learned with God so far, putting them to practical use on a daily basis.  Terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.  I think it all picked up steam after I settled on the word "Yes" as my word for the year to contemplate.  And no, I don't think that's what brought on all this testing......it's more like it was the opening theme in a piece of music that had already been composed.  If you've ever heard "Appalachian Spring" by Aaron Copland,  the opening 4 minutes sound to me like that "Yes"----and the incredibly active, energetic, explosive, and sometimes mysterious music that follows sounds like the score for this next period in my life!  (strangely, the link I found on YouTube was downloaded on March 26, 2011.  The date of Stu's stroke)  That piece also weaves an old Shaker hymn called "Simple Gifts" into the main theme-----I love how art can describe life so beautifully.  

In early January, I noticed that my big pizza oven in the bakery was not heating very well.  I called a repairman who had worked on some of my home appliances and asked if he worked on commercial equipment.  He said he'd take a look.
Well. I wish he had admitted that he didn't know how to fix my ovens.  He guessed and experimented and pushed and pulled and bluffed, and ended up breaking an expensive part-----and then didn't know how to go about fixing it, couldn't find the serial number, etc. etc.  He said he would call me back......but he never did. *


Great.  Now I have no big ovens, and am worried that they are so old I can't find parts!

Because it is my slow time of the year,  I didn't have big orders to fill, and I was able to take care of what was coming in using my small kitchen range.  But I needed to figure out what I would do for Grower's Market.  Should I even go back to Grower's Market?  Should I finally throw in the towel (or potholder) and seek some other line of employment?  Should I replace the ovens?  Where would the money come from?  And while I was evaluating the state of my equipment, did it really make sense to continue using the Mickey Mouse propane setup we had inherited when we bought the equipment?  

Really, I could hardly think about it because my daughter Rachel was due to give birth ANY MINUTE! 

Right here is where it's  very easy to fall into prolonged scenario building, frantic opinion seeking, or downright panic.  But I have learned a few things.  (My daughter Becky once described the process as "Stop, drop, and pray." ) Taking a deep breath and slowing down enough to hear the Father's perspective opens up windows and doorways you didn't even know were there.......and even if you have to wait for a while (I did), you can rest easy, knowing that He's got things covered.  Well, at least you're pretty sure he does.  You can't prove it.  You have to rehearse what He's already done, what his character is, and screen out all the static and anxiety that so wants to take over your entire being!  I'm not saying it's easy, I'm just saying it's possible.  And God helps us do it.

So, Justus Sterling Boettner arrived on January 14. (check out my post from Jan. 15 if you missed it)

Whew, now I could think about what to do.

Aaaargh.

I decided to call a different repairman, one who specializes in commercial equipment,  and ask his opinion about locating parts for my ovens. 

Night and day experience----the guy was clear, positive, and no-nonsense.  Yup, I could order parts.  He was able to tell me over the phone where the model number was.  Yup, it would be a good idea to switch to natural gas.  Yup, he knew a plumber that he would recommend for doing the gas plumbing.  By this time, I had mulled over the possibility of replacing my big ovens, and any way I looked at it, it would cost a big chunk of my savings.  I decided to take a chance on the ovens I already have.  I decided that somehow it was worth it to continue the bakery, even though I had no idea how I would build it the way it needed to be built.  I knew I was in need of help......big help.....and I had no idea where it would come from.  But I was getting a green light to move forward with this improvement.  I hired the plumber and the ball began to roll.

Well.

A couple of days after Justus was born, the pipes in my breezeway froze and then burst, spewing water.  I had to call Jerome (Rachel's husband) to find out how to shut off the water!  When he heard what was wrong, he gallantly offered to come over and take care of it for me (not something I would have asked, considering he was still adjusting to his newborn son, and he lives in Rogue River.).   Once it was fixed, though, we sat on stools in the bakery and had one of those special chats you sometimes have with people you love.  Just comparing notes on all the changes in our lives, confessing our bewilderment at some of the dangling question marks, reminding each other what we know about God.  I love that I can  go there with my son-in-law.

A few days later, I got a call from Jerome, asking if we could have a talk.
When I sat down with Jerome and Rachel the next day,  Jerome cleared his throat and asked me what I would think of him coming alongside me in the bakery and learning the business.  He and Rachel had already talked it over.....she was on board!  What did I think?

Well, I think it's an answer to prayer.
And I think it's scary and risky.
And I think it's going to be glorious and hard and challenging and eye-opening
And I think it's going to be.....fun!

I think it sounds like that music I love by Copland.

I was compelled to say "Yes"!

We are blessed to have some key people to advise us on how to make this transition, and as I said to the kids as I was leaving that day "You know what we're really agreeing, don't you?  We're agreeing that we want to be praying ALL THE TIME,  because that's the only way we'll be able to navigate it all."  And you know what?  That made us all happy :-)

P.S.  By the way, after a three week wait, which seemed like an eternity, the parts for the oven came in, and on Friday I baked my first bagels in the newly functioning bottom oven.  Only two weeks away from the opening day of Grower's Market.  Whew......just in time!
Now we're cooking with gas!  In more ways than one :-)
The saga continues!  I will keep you updated on our progress as we go along.

Until next time,

Sue

*( I have since contacted his company and told them my story.  They said he would contact me.  He hasn't.  They haven't compensated me for the part......but at least they know what he did.)

Valentine Prayer

"Marriage is hard.  Stay married anyway" Christy Ann Coats (click the link for her very poignant thoughts, esp. regarding her grandparents.)
Well, I couldn't have said it better myself.
It's what I thought as I left the nursing home last night.
The notice on the door didn't help----I can't remember the wording, but it was a warning that
there are quite a few residents who are down with the flu, and the main thought was, "Enter at your own risk!"
Well, marriage is a little like that, isn't it?  Enter at your own risk?  Who knows what you're going to encounter?!
I had just been down for a week with the flu myself, so I was cautious----I actually requested that Stu meet me at the door so I could take him across to NewSong church for the Wednesday bible study. 
Bible study was warm and thought provoking----Stu has gotten much more relaxed over the past few months, and actually had questions to ask, and a few observations.  The group is welcoming and kind, and Wednesdays are a bright spot in the week for us.
But as I walked back across the parking lot with Stu in his wheelchair, I had to decide whether or not to enter that building, with all its risks.  Somehow, it was better to go all the way in, walk down the corridor with him, navigate the turn into his room, watch as the caregivers hooked up the sling under him and hoyered him out of the wheelchair and back into his bed.
Not exactly a Hallmark moment.
Or is it?
Before I left, Stu said he had made a valentine for me

 It says "It's not would you, could you, will you, or might you......it's you ARE my Valentine.  Love and Faith
          Stu  (not sure about the numbers at the end----I'll have to ask him what he was thinking)

What strikes me in this little episode is what has become evident as the theme of our particular marriage-----it's such an unfathomable mix of devotion, separation, despair, joy, slogging, soaring.  The main thing is, despite our personal failings, we are still a couple.  That is only by God's grace-----I am quite convinced that there is no program or checklist that guarantees the survival of a marriage.  I count among my dearest friends people whose marriages did not survive.  I have no trouble understanding-----it is a pure miracle, in my opinion, when two people can somehow agree that "Marriage is hard.  Stay married anyway"

My prayer this Valentine's Day evening is that the grace of God, which passes all understanding, fills your heart and strengthens you to withstand whatever challenge you face.  Whatever risky corridor looms in your life, may you know the One who walks before, beside, and behind you, hemming you in with LOVE.

Until next time!

Sue

Birth

Yesterday, at 4:26 a.m., my newest grandson was born.

Justus Sterling Boettner is my fifth grandchild, and I have been privileged to be present at the birth of all five.
I wonder if I can capture here what struck me as I watched my daughter labor to bring forth this new child.
I can try, anyway.
Rachel has birthed three other babies-----she is, at this point, a skilled laborer :-)
I watched as the contractions pressed in on her, puckering her face with concentration and discomfort.
I could not help but think about the circumstances in our lives, how we carry a great unborn hope that requires all our attention.  We know there is a great good to be born, but we travail.

As the pressure increased, Rachel knew from experience that resisting and tensing up slows the labor.   But there must be a response, a cry-----as I watched her relax into her task, my heart cheered as I heard her tune her cries to a note of music!  What note was that, I wondered?----it made a hard thing beautiful.  She sang the baby into this world!

  "Come thou fount of every blessing, tune my heart to sing thy praise"  The old hymn comes to mind as I process God's beautiful message-----maybe Rachel was singing in the key of "Yes".   And through Christ I answer back "Amen and Hallelujah!"

How Great Thou Art!

Radical Selflessness

This morning, as I contemplated what it would require to take the next step---leap, really----into more active service to God, a phrase popped into my head.  I would need "the radical selflessness of Christ".  Yikes!  That is at once an exhilharating and terrifying thought.  Every self-protective cell in my body,( you know,  those dark cells that crave the familiar and  are threatened by  light),  screams in protest.  But the God part of me, the part he planted and is cultivating-----that part starts cheering.  Yes! 

May the yes-ing continue!

More on Yes

So, now that I've opened up the "yes" box, I am noticing what an irritating word it is.

I guess that's why I picked it.  It goads me.  How do I apply it?  Do I say yes to discipline and no to abandon?  Or the other way around?  Do I switch off?   Where are the directions on this box, anyway?

Irritating......but valuable.  I know that.  I've misused my yes, squandered it, hoarded it, argued with it.

I think the reason I chose it this year is that I sense its value, and I sense there's a way to use it as it was intended.

When Eve said yes to the tempter, and Adam said yes to Eve, they started the whole downward spiral, didn't they?

Back to my verse from the last post about "Yes in Christ".  In Him, yes is sanctified, put back in its proper place.  So, I guess that answers my question for today-----the directions for using yes come from Christ.  He demonstrates it.  Shows us how it's properly applied-----"I only do what the Father says", he told his disciples.  I want to learn that kind of agreement. 

My One Word

This post has been brewing in my mind for weeks.  Sometimes it's hard to get the thoughts into a cohesive mass-----I suppose, baker that I am, I've been mixing and kneading and proofing these thoughts.

This post will center less on Stu and what's happening with him----if you're looking for an update, this isn't it.  This is more a contemplation of my own direction in life----which, of course, has been greatly impacted by this "Stroke of Genius".  It is, by now, a new norm for me to be separated from Stu.  The initial shock and grief have been processed, to a livable degree, at least.  I've always depended on God to make the big moves for me----and always I am surprised at the way He does it!

So, the other day I was inspired to sit next to my friend Lori at church, and she shared something that got me thinking----maybe it will do the same for you.  She told me about a book called "My One Word", also a website http://myoneword.org  in which you choose one word to contemplate for the year.  Seriously, right up my alley!   All the way home, I was brainstorming words:  ENERGIZE.......HATCH.......OPEN.....GENEROUS........FEARLESS.......EMERGE........TRUST....COMMUNITY

By the time I got home and was able to check out the website, the pump was already primed.  Living water was circulating!   I knew that just the experience of asking for a word for the year was a gift.   ASK.....was that it?

For a person like me who revels in words, narrowing it down to just one is a worthy discipline.  WORTH?  DISCIPLINE?   No, the bell was still not ringing.

I went to my journal, refreshing my memory about what has been stirring in my soul.  REFRESH?   FRESH?  Nope.  (Are you laughing yet?  I am.....LAUGH?  No... LOL....o.k., back to the subject)

Here is what I found.  And I share it with you because, really, my journey is your journey too.  We are fellow travelers.
         "As I reflect on the past few years, one theme that emerges is "strengthening".  Everything that has happened  has systematically removed old crutches and idols, and replaced them with living faith.  Slowly but surely, my old, rocky acreage is being transformed.  Hiding underneath many of those "rocks" has been a core of shame (sometimes shame is so shameful you're ashamed to recognize it for what it is!).  I can see it quite clearly right now, as if there are two of me.....one who stands safe and sure in your love, Lord, and one who is hurt and damaged and identifies with the shame.  Flinches at the implication of worthlessness.  So many years I spent, living in the shadow of Stu's complexity.  I unconsciously preferred that to trusting You, Lord.  I could not have even known what trust looked like if You had not taken me by the hand.
      Now I am experiencing a different "covering", and under it I am hearing a different message----or maybe it's that my ears are not as plugged, and I can hear more clearly a Voice that has been calling me all along.  As I think it through, I can see that I am only scratching the surface of this issue----but even so, my chest is expanding with new air.  I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.  I come back again to the foundational stone that is being firmly established----that I am your workmanship,  not dependent on the approval of men, holy and blameless in  your sight, beloved, considered precious enough to die for.  In other words, my soul has great worth in Your eyes, not because of my good works or my connection to any other person.  My worth has everything to do with my connection to You, which you have been strengthening.  And out of that amazing relationship comes a joyful outpouring of love and concern for my fellow travelers! May that grow ever stronger in me, Lord.  All of my scribblings here are efforts to describe and rehearse that one truth"
      When I consider what it is that strengthens me, I can see that it is Your Word.  "There is no room in love for fear.  Well-formed love banishes fear" 1 John, 4:17, the Message.  I find my heart crying out "I want to be sane!"  That is my one request.  All around me are forces, dark ones that  I don't understand, compelling forces-----and often I feel an answering force within me that agrees with those dark forces.  Resisting those dark forces is the holiest thing I do.  But there is no way to resist in my own strength.  My greatest asset is my "YES", and I say it now to You, Lord.  Exclusively and with all my will, I say Yes, Lord.  Thy will be done.  Now and forever" (end of journal entry)

"Whatever God has promised gets stamped with the Yes of Jesus.  In him, this is what we preach and pray: the great Amen, God's Yes and our Yes together; gloriously evident.  God affirms us, making us a sure thing in Christ, putting his Yes within us.  By his spirit he has stamped us with his eternal pledge----a sure beginning of what he has destined to complete"  2 Cor. 1:20-22, The Message

There is more in the journal----much more.  But this is already a long read, and I have brought you to my word for the year.  It is "YES".  I look forward to exploring its implications and power in future posts.
For now, my bakery is calling my name----and I think I must say "YES" to it!

Until next time!

Sue

Paradox

Pen and ink sketch, by Stu Mendelson

Quite a few years ago, Stu and I  chose this image and quote for our yearly holiday greeting.   Not what you might expect in your mailbox----we commented even then that you don't usually get a picture of a guy wading through the sewers of Paris carrying an injured man on his back as a Christmas card.  But you know, as the years have unfolded, the thought expressed here resonates.  In light of Stu's stroke, it is even more poignant.  So I share it with you this season, by Stu's request.

I'm grateful for this blog, where I jot down all the ups and downs of our story as we go along-------this holiday season, for me,  has been full of baking and gift-making and celebrating with friends and family.   At the same time, I am never far from remembering the paradoxical truth, that there is light to be found, even in dark places.  I recently received this reminder from a writer I admire, David Roper, (it was actually written by his wife, Carolyn.  Both of them have been an encouragement to me through their writing)  and I pass it along to you here:

Carolyn wrote this as one of her "Morning by Morning" meditations. Thought you'd appreciate it…

Morning by Morning

12.14.12

An Exceptionally Good Christmas

"I think we're going to have an exceptionally good Christmas."

If I had written these words I would probably have been thinking that our family would all be together for a white Christmas. I would probably imagine that well ahead of time all the cards had been mailed, all the preparations made and everything would be "just so." We would have a brightly lit tree and lovely red and green decorations, filling my heart with good memories. There would be the just-right presents to bring delight and joy to each one. There would be singing and laughing, playing games and a festive meal, with everyone decked out in their Christmas finery and caring for one another.  And I would find a fresh way to present the Christmas story at just the right time, which would be meaningful to all. There would be no worries, no loneliness, no health issues, no one missing from our family circle, either spacially or emotionally. At our house Evie would be singing "Come On Ring Those Bells" to welcome everyone in!

"I think we're going to have an exceptionally good Christmas."

Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote those words to his fiancée while he was isolated in a dark, cruel Germany prison as World War 2 was raging. He went on to explain:

"The very fact that every outward circumstance precludes our making provision for it will show whether we can be content with what is truly essential. I used to be very fond of thinking up and buying presents, but now that we have nothing to give, the gift God gave us in the birth of Christ will seem all the more glorious, the emptier our hands, the better we understand what Luther meant by his dying words: "We're beggars: it's true." The poorer our quarters, the more clearly we perceive that our hearts should be Christ's home on earth."

Letter to fiancée Maria von Wedemeyer, December 1, 1943

Because of God's priceless gift of His Son, may each of us have an exceptionally good Christmas, content with what is truly essential. Content whatever our Christmas looks like this year.

Blessings,

Carolyn Roper

The selection from Bonhoeffer comes from the work, God Is in the Manger: Reflections on Advent and Christmas; compiled by Jana Riess.

Finally, friends, just to complete the paradoxical theme, I include this fun photo of Stu

May your Christmas season be full of the joy that Christ brings!

 

                    

Giving Thanks

Who Knew?!

                                                   
Got a chance to take pictures today of Stu standing with his therapist, Dale.

Pretty heartwarming, isn't it?

Last time I saw this, it brought a scripture to mind, from Ephesians 6:13-14  I remembered
noticing that in that passage, in my NIV translation, the word "stand" appeared three times in just two sentences.  "Therefore, put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand.  Stand firm, then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace". 

Here's what I jotted down in my journal that day:

"As I read through Ephesians, with all the standing references, I wonder if, in a way, our souls are as weak as Stu's body-----if the Holy Spirit is our "Dale", energetic and encouraging, wrapping the belt around our middle and reminding us that we do indeed have strength in our muscles to stand.  Like Stu, we are only able to do it for short periods at first-----but more and more with His help"

Praying that as we are strengthened and encouraged by God's work in us, we will stand tall and give thanks with joy!

Happy Thanksgiving, Friends!!

Standing on the Promises of God

Last night, before Stu and I headed over for our weekly "date" at NewSong church for their Wednesday Bible Study, Stu's therapist bounded into the room and said "I'm glad you're here a little early-----I have something to show you." Dale, his name is, and his already upbeat personality was even more so.  Two of the CNA's stopped what they were doing and joined us, as interested as I was.  "I heard about this", remarked Heather.  "Me, too" said Jackie.

"Ready, Stu?"  Dale had already wrapped a gait belt around Stu's middle, and as we watched,  Stu and Dale went through a little performance----something they had obviously been practicing together for a while.  "One, two, three....up"  For the first time in over a year, I was seeing Stu sit up on the side of the bed.  "O.k., Stu, do some warm-ups"---Stu obediently bent forward and then straightened, to the count of ten.  He has not been able to do  anything like that since the stroke-----that was in March, 2011!

And then I watched Stu stand up, using the muscles in his own legs.  Dale helped, Dale steadied him----but it was Stu who was standing. 

My eyes filled with tears.  Who would have predicted it?   Perhaps there is mercy in a slow-release miracle----and perhaps more glory to God.   I thought over all the months of grief and sorrow, the crushing of very understandable hopes, the faith that endured, the wisdom that has flourished-----and my heart filled with indescribable gratitude for its effect on both of us.  I am seeing a kinder, gentler Stu these days----this new ability to stand is infinitely less miraculous than the change I see in his heart and attitude.  And  the story has affected me deeply,  drilling down to my very core----I hope this post conveys just a little of the wonder of this unlikely path we're on.  Paradox and mystery-----the theme continues!

Meanwhile, our association with NewSong church has blossomed over the past few weeks----I've been so encouraged that Stu has continued to go on Sundays, escorted by Aaron and treated to donuts, coffee and kindness from everyone.  This leaves me free to stay connected at our home church, Lumen Dei, but still join Stu on Wednesdays for the Bible study.

And, after a full and rigorous four months at Grower's Market, I made the decision to let the last weekend in October be my final one for the season.  I am cultivating my facebook page, (under Studabakers-Bakery!! on Facebook) where I post weekly updates and photos and take orders-----Lord willing, that will sustain me over the winter months until the weather is again settled enough to set up my tent again :-)

I'll keep you posted as we go along----I have a Thanksgiving blog brewing in my head right now, but I think this is enough for the time being.

Until next time

Blessings from Sue and Stu

Stu's Prayer

This afternoon, Stu told me about a prayer he had prayed recently.
He said he had been gripped by a thought about what might happen to him in the future.
"What if I die homeless?"  is how he put it to me. 
Unlikely as it might be, the thought had teeth, and it worried him without mercy, as such thoughts do.
He tells me he prayed a specific prayer.
"Lord"  he said "please send me a sign that there are people who will love me and take care of me".

This morning, he tells me he got the answer to that prayer, in no uncertain terms.
In the first place, one of the kind men from NewSong, the church next door, offered to escort Stu over there for the Sunday service.
To multiply the blessing, our son-in-law Jerome and Rachel decided they'd like to join him at the service, too.  They've been thinking along those lines for a couple of weeks, but it's interesting to me that today was the day they decided to follow through.

This afternoon, as I visited with him, I listened to the way it impacted him.  Glad I was wearing an absorbent scarf-----when my grateful tears started to flow, I needed it.(I did find some Kleenex when it was time to blow my nose :-)  Ha!

"Sue, it was so wonderful.  Aaron came over a little after 9:30, and he walked over with me and helped me with my wheelchair.  And then his wife Angie brought me a doughnut and a cup of coffee.  That doughnut was so good, Sue.  God just let me enjoy it.  And Angie brushed the crumbs off of me, just like you would.  She was so kind."  He went on to mention several other people who greeted him and welcomed him, and was obviously heartened by their warmth. 
"Then," he said, "when the service started, I was sitting right where we sit when you come on Wednesday, and we were singing a wonderful song about God's glory, when I felt a hand on my shoulder, and it was Jerome!  And right to my right was Shayna, with the sweetest smile.  I started crying then.  But I really started crying when I saw Rachel.  She told me they wanted to come and join me at church, and I knew it was God answering my prayer"

Well......the story stands all by itself.  But I wonder if you will stay and look at it with me for just a minute, to appreciate the layers of meaning in it.  Because this was not just one man's prayer that affected one man.   And really, because of God's nature, every prayer is multi-layered and reverberating.    In this one small example, a prayer of my own was acknowledged.  I am always praying that Stu will experience God's love without me as a "middleman".   The more he takes his own steps of faith, the more he owns it.   And I would say that God was encouraging Aaron and Angie and the other folks at NewSong as they ministered to Stu;  likewise,  Rachel and Jerome.  I think of the impact that such events have on my grandkids, and my imagination is not big enough to contain the depth of it.  And then there is the staff at the nursing home, seeing  the story play out.  And the other members of the church.......are you with me?  It opens up your mind to vast possibilities, doesn't it?   And you know, friends, I would say that the power of prayer is in that opening up of our minds to the Greatest Mind, the Creator.  When we get a glimpse of who he is, worry and fear are eclipsed by the wonder of his goodness.   My own overarching prayer for every one of us is that we would "taste and see that the Lord is good".  

Until next time!

Sue

Power

Many years ago, when I was in my twenties, I went to visit my parents in Big Bear Lake, California.   During my visit, my Dad suggested we take a canoe across the lake to visit a friend on the other side.  I had never rowed before, and I remember  being very gung-ho and wanting to do my part in getting us across that lake.

Big Bear Lake is pretty broad, though.  Halfway across, my arms were aching and I was puffing.  I had to take a break, feeling like I was somehow letting my Dad down.

The next minute I felt a surge of power shooting us across the lake.  The canoe was cutting through the water effortlessly----I looked behind me in the canoe and saw my Dad, smiling and getting us across the lake in no time.  I don't think he had any idea what had been going through my mind-----it was no big deal for him.  But the little picture has stayed etched on my mind ever since.  Whenever I feel like I need to "row as hard as I can",  I take it with a grain of salt.  There's Someone bigger and much better equipped than I am to get me where I need to go :-)

Fast forward to 2012.  
Stu and I are at the little church next door to the nursing home,  enjoying an evening of worship music.  (NewSong is blessed with quite a few excellent musicians, I have noticed, including the pastor!)   The evening is drawing to a close, and by this time I am standing up, behind Stu's wheelchair, my arms around his neck and using his chest as a drum.  We are both singing loudly, but at the same time I am reflecting that in the old days, Stu would have had many sharp criticisms of the music, the people, the church, the community----you name it, he would have had something to say about it.   So much of that has melted away since the stroke!  A miracle!    In those days, I often despaired of ever being able to share with Stu the sweetness of just enjoying and loving God's people, singing with them, praying with them, caring about them, worshiping our Father together.   I tried, sometimes, to find some way to cross that gulf myself----to row across that "lake".  Lake Skeptic, you might say!   But my efforts always failed.  I was forced to stop trying.  And in the not trying.....in the surrender (an ongoing surrender, I must tell you) .....I feel the surge of power.  I feel great Shoulders at work, navigating waters I can't understand,  and I take a big, deep breath of relief.  I know He will smile when I feel ready to row again, and maybe even give me pointers on doing it better-----but our destination doesn't depend on me.  He just gives me the sense of participation because............He's my Dad, and every good Dad loves to include and encourage his kids

I think the following passage, from Paul's letter to the Ephesians, illustrates God's character and his relationship with us.  Notice that it is a power that originates with God, but is shared and nurtured in us by Him:
"I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith.  And 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.
     Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to the power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen."   Eph. 3: 16-21

   

Unconditional

Unconditional love----what does it look like?

The question has been rattling around in my consciousness for a while, really.
I know the concept, of course.
I have read my Bible.
But the practice!  Do I get that?
Less, rather than more, I find.

So, as always, my life circumstances are a patient teacher, slowly but inevitably showing me where my expectations are once again rooted more in results and my personal perception of progress than

 Just....
                                   plain.....
                                                                  love.

Love sits next to a frightened and querulous husband in a hospital bed and understands that he's too freaked out to return the love.  He can't really master his emotions.  He desperately looks for assurance from the nearest human being, and sputters and spits when that human being fails.

He is a Love Detector!

 And the people around him feel "found out" over and over!  None of us can produce that love!

 My most beautiful moments are the ones where I quietly admit, right on the spot, how bankrupt I am in and of myself.  Somehow, that confession opens the door to One who can show us what unconditional love looks like.  We need His example,  don't we?  And by looking at Him in impossible circumstances, we can see through the paralyzing  fog of our perceptions for just a moment, and Unconditional Love floods our surroundings.  The querulous husband quiets, aware of something greater than himself, and is comforted.

Daily I pray that Stu will be comforted by that One.  His thrashing and resistance is only in a more obvious form than my own----he is a living picture of the human condition!   The stroke has stripped him of his natural cover, and his insecurity is laid bare.  But is he really any different than you and me?   If  I was not walking through this territory on a daily basis, I'm sure I would be much more likely to think that I was "better than that".  But the stroke is teaching me that......I'm not.

Paradoxically, something that comes through more and more forcefully as the months roll by is that I must sometimes stand back and let Stu suffer for a while without me.  This is good for both him and me, whether he agrees with that or not (usually not!)  Recently I had to take more than a week of "sabbatical" from my usual pattern of visiting and calling.  I tend to dread these times, since "all hell breaks loose" at first.   His behavior is more erratic and demanding.  He panics.  I put it off until something in me knows that if I continue it will become drudgery and duty.  Ugh.  That's even worse than facing what might come up while I'm gone.  So I lay low-----and I pray FOR him.  I suppose I share this with you because all of us, I think, have a "Stu" in our life.  And it is hugely tempting to try to manage it yourself.  But I encourage you to do a reality check.  How does it go for you when you do manage it by yourself?

After more than a week away, spent in deep prayer, I find myself refreshed, my own cup refilled by  a merciful Father.  One night I laid awake, gripped by the drama of the situation, and trying desperately to remember what God has told me about Himself.  The next second the words of the 23rd psalm floated to the surface of my mind
"The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures.
He leads me beside still waters.
He restores my soul.
He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of Death,
I will fear no evil, for he is with me, his rod and his staff, they comfort me." 
Each separate thought in this first part of the psalm is loaded with meaning for me.  (if you have not pondered through it yourself, I highly recommend a little book called "A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23" by Phillip Keller)
Because I have committed it to memory, it was there in the dark night, waiting to comfort my soul.

So today, on this fresh September morning, I am ready to go up and spend some time with Stu, interested to see what will be revealed.   I can trust that, in God's economy, it is good.

Stu goes to church......

On Sunday, a lovely thing happened.

Stu and I went to church together again.

I have seen the church next door to Laurel Hill all along, but Stu's condition was not very stable, he wasn't comfortable in his wheelchair for extended periods.....bottom line, I wasn't getting a green light about it, and he wasn't asking.  So I waited.

Then, a couple of weeks ago, a former neighbor of ours stopped by the stand at Grower's Market with his darling daughter, asking how Stu was doing, wondering where he was staying......and when I told him it was Laurel Hill he burst out "That's our church next door!"

The wheels started to turn :-)  I knew the building, and remembered it as being open enough to be wheelchair friendly.   It was worth a try.  I asked Stu how he would feel about visiting, and he thought about it.  After all, it's a big step to do a "normal" thing when your body is no longer "normal".   On the phone, after thinking it over for a few days, he told me "I'm determined to see it through".

So, Sunday morning, he navigated over in his wheelchair (on a side note, he has been receiving daily training at the facility from an occupational therapist----Dale.  A very encouraging fellow.  His time at the facility is limited, but the timing of it couldn't be more perfect.) 

Everyone was so, so welcoming-----I wish you could have seen Stu shaking people's hands and introducing us, beaming and glowing, making jokes and just reveling in the environment.  There is a very large area before the sanctuary, with a coffee bar on the side,  and we got to meet and greet to our hearts' content. 

When the service started, we were able to sit in the back and just let the music wash over us.  I could hear Stu's good bass voice joining in on Amazing Grace.  In the past, Stu has often been critical of church, church services, church music, church people.......there was none of that today..  His heart has been softened.  He enjoyed every last drop of our time there----although we did have to leave just before the service ended because his leg was troubling him.  As the person who has walked by his side through many years of  unpleasantness and bitterness, I will say that I saw a miracle----produced by very unexpected means-----in his attitude yesterday.   A broken body has yielded a quieter, humbler, more contrite Stu.   A Stu who can appreciate what God is doing through ordinary people.  He commented at one point "I can see that this is how heaven will be.....ordinary people, worshiping God together." 

We will see how things unfold from here-----if there's one thing I'm learning, it's "one day at a time".   I will keep you posted on his doings, as always.  Quite a few people have responded to my invitation to come visit him at Laurel Hill, and that too has been a blessing.  He told me one day that he was fervently praying that Jesus would appear to him, and when he opened his eyes, there was our good friend, Doug----!  And  later that same day, his beloved Ruth paid a call.  It definitely made an impression on him!    I trust that God will nudge others to do the same.  It sure makes a good story, doesn't it?

Until next time

Sue

The Berries are Coming Ripe.......

Tonight it struck me that outside my cottage window there was a quiet miracle happening.
The blackberries are coming ripe.
(If you are among those who curse blackberries for all their negative qualities, you may want to stop reading here.  I am going to appreciate them.  My apologies:-)
The sun was low in the sky, and had lost most of its heat, the light was golden-----I needed to walk away from my to-do list and my favorite distractions and simply roam along the long living wall of berries that borders my property.  I took a small bowl with me----nothing big enough to seem like work. 
As I picked,  thoughts came to mind that seemed  large and relaxed and comforting.  I had done nothing to make these berries grow.  No planting.  No watering.  No worrying about what kind of crop they would produce.  Yet here they were, more berries than I could ever harvest.  Doesn't it make you think about God's way of looking at things?  It did me.  He seems untroubled by what we might consider waste, somehow.  What is His secret?

In my humanity, I am always and forever looking for ways to make the most of my resources, maximize my potential, etc. etc.----a trait much admired in our country.   But on a good day, I wonder about that.   I wonder about it very much, and I take it with a grain of salt.

This is helpful as I walk through this newest chapter of God's Stroke of Genius with Stu.   So much of his story seems like a waste on first examination.   If he was going to end up in a nursing home for the last part of his story, what was the point?   It looks, to my human eye, like all thorns and brambles.   Stu himself can not understand what has befallen him, and goes up and down the gamut of emotions, trying to find a balance point.   I do what I can to reassure him, but really, who am I?  Just another traveler.  The thorns grab at me,  too.  Some days I feel pretty scratched up!

But down deep, where thorns can't reach, I am at peace.  And I believe that the same is true for Stu, even if it's sometimes hard to tell.   The One who planted knows the outcome.  He knows the pattern of growth, and what is needed to produce a crop.  I find myself grateful that even during the waiting, there are days like this, where a hedge of blackberries can remind me of His nature.   How good He is!

He is Still Drawing Doves.......

June, 2012 , 15 months after the stroke

We are in the familiar place again, Stu in his hospital bed, me in a chair by its side.
He has asked for a china marker (the kind used for marking laundry-----he loves drawing with them)  and a pad.
I watch him take the marker in his right hand and begin to sketch out lines on the pad.
He looks up at my face and then swiftly back down to the pad----he is trying to capture my face.
"I can't make the lines the way I used to" he comments, matter-of-factly.  He seems free of frustration or self-pity----a miracle, really.  He is still working away at the lines, undaunted.
It's true, the sketch is disjointed and hard to interpret-----but I notice that the lines look vigorous and deft.
I become curious......"Have you been drawing more, Stu?"
"Yes", he smiles the new, lopsided smile that came with the stroke.   He seems a  little surprised at his own recent industry. "and writing, too"
"Can I see more?"  I ask
"Yes, there on the yellow legal pad"

I am a little taken aback at what I find.......he is, apparently, more active in his writing and sketching than I had realized.  Many pages are filled with random thoughts, more coherent than I would have thought possible.  There are love letters to me and about me,  an enthusiastic praise of one of the women who takes care of him at the nursing home, full of gratitude, and then, strikingly, this one:

       It is hard to read, I know----but here is what it says:
How vain and self-absorbed I am to be anxious and ashamed to need so much help in so many small matters.  I am still held prisoner by my body, and I cannot thank God for daily suffering, may He forgive me and bless me to be grateful for everything, please Father.  It's hard to tell outwardly, (but) I am devoted to Him inwardly.
Wondrous secrets of God!!

Anyone who knows Stu, knows that doves have always been a favorite theme for him.  When I found the little drawing at the top of this page (complete with catsup stain-----it's a nursing home, after all)  I could not help but think "He is coming back to us.  He is still Stu.  What has always mattered in him is safe and vital.  And why should I be surprised?  Would God let that be harmed?  Not His style, I'm finding.  He knows what is of value, and he is quite careful with it.  As I turned onto the quiet Sunday streets of Grants Pass, heading home, I reflected, with a catch in my throat, how many times God has taught me what matters through this unpredictable man.  I hold his prayer close to my heart and realize that it is my prayer, too.  And I agree with him, tears in my eyes, that these truly are wondrous secrets of God.