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.

Update on Stu's condition

Sometimes it's like pulling teeth.  Why there's so much resistance in some situations is beyond me, but it seems to be a fact of life.  So, over a week after Stu's seizure we finally got an appointment with a doc who was covering for his vacationing PCP,  and he confirmed what I had suspected----that such seizures are very common after a stroke.  It was just good to have a doctor examine and advise us.  We had the option of starting him on an anti-seizure medication, but because it's the first one, and there is no pattern of seizures, we chose to hold off on yet another medication.  Stu also has a follow up appointment with his regular doctor in July, and that will be a relief to have him evaluated.

 I would appreciate prayer for wisdom in dealing with these situations that crop up----the medical community speaks a language that is quite foreign to me.  I often feel like a stranger in a strange land----one with land mines!   On a bad day, it feels like one false step will send me and Stu into irrevocable harm.  Grateful for a friend who reminded me today that I am not the one calling the shots : " You did the best you could.  God clued you in when you were to be clued in.  I think as humans we tend to operate out of prevention.  Stop the bad thing from happening!  Find a way to never let it happen again!  God is not thinking in those terms.  God has his ways!  He seems to be bent on teaching us something.  He loves in a way that is out of this world.  Or at least out of something we don't love from.  Cause we don't love like He does."   I have trouble remembering that.  Guess that's why I have friends to remind me sometimes.  And I am passing it on to you!  And still asking for prayer as I stumble through this experience.  Thanks, Friends!

To Market or not to Market?, That is the Question......

Typical Grower's Market conveyance :-)

My heavens, it's been weeks since I've written.  Writing is a mysterious thing-----when the fit is on me, there's no stopping it.  When it's not, there's no use trying to dredge it up.  People have asked me recently about that, and I'm finding that, for better or worse, that's how it is for me.

Last time we met, it was before I had started to toy with the idea of returning to Grower's Market-----and yes, it's still a twinkle in my eye.  But a dim one, at present.  First I called long time Market Manager Marti Fate, sounding her out about the idea.  It's been over a year, after all.  She had to tell me that, at present, our old spot is occupied, the market is full to bursting with vendors, and even if she could find me another spot, the ones with electricity are limited.  Aaaargh.  That's the deal-breaker for me.  No electricity would mean no toasted bagels with cream cheese.  I can't face it.  Hard enough to go without Stu, and with less products and a smaller stand----but no toasted bagels??  Not an option.  For me, the ceremony of plastering a fresh toasted bagel (that I made with my own two hands)  with cream cheese,  while I hear the latest news from the customer waiting for it, is the main reason for even being there.  The laughter, the updates, the prayerful moments.  Still, Marti was hopeful that there would be an opening in July, and urged me to contact her at the beginning of that month.  I confessed that I hadn't even visited the market since last year, because I was afraid I'd break down and cry.  She replied, in her distinctive Tennessee drawl "I'm sure of it, and other people with you!"  Marti always did have a way of hitting the nail on the head.

I have learned to push through discouraging news to the other end-----a risk, since there are times when the other end also appears discouraging.  Ha!  But still, armed with this conviction that it's better to move into the hard stuff than to run, I plucked up my courage, clamped my old Grower's Market baseball hat on my head for fortification, and decided to wade into the Saturday morning  extravaganza that is Grower's Market in Grants Pass: the colors, the smells, the faces, the wares.  As a visitor instead of a vendor, I had to adjust to the change in perspective.  For one thing, I had to find a parking place!  I have heard customers grumble about this challenge for years----the cheerful ones simply see it as an opportunity to take a morning walk.  That's how I looked at it----part of the morning adventure.   I decided to make it really weird for myself by starting at the opposite corner of the market from our old spot.  I was sneaking in.  Wow....I never noticed that food truck before......come to think of it, I hardly ever made it to this end of the market.  Too busy in my own little corner.   "Who ARE these people?"  I found myself wondering as I passed  space after space of unfamiliar vendors.   "Where are all my favorite customers?"   Maybe it was just a funny time of day, but I saw only a few familiar faces in the crowd, and only a handful of vendors that had been comrades during all the years we worked the Market.

As I rounded the corner that brought me face-to-face with our old spot, I had the sensation that people must have when they visit their old neighborhood and find the corner store turned into a parking lot, or their old house torn down and replaced by.....a newer house.  "It's not the same" something in us wails......and it's not.  Life happens.  Circumstances change.  A life event can knock your world upside the head.  Funny thing, as I wove through the crowd, I spotted a customer I hadn't seen for a couple of years.  She hadn't heard about Stu's stroke, and I hadn't heard about her husband's death.  We looked into each others' eyes with deep and wordless compassion.  Veterans.  It was good to see her.  It helped me put things in context.  I liked the way we didn't have to explain to each other-----we are at once more sorrowful and richer for the experience of our lives.  Infinitely richer.

As I slipped away, ready to move on with my day, I found myself on the other side of the discouragement.  And it was quiet, and not very dramatic.  No tears necessary.   I have everything of importance I need, I realized, even if I don't have my old spot :-)  And if I return to the Market, the old skills will take a new turn, and we will all enjoy how that looks.  I found myself once again profoundly grateful for the way God shapes and molds my life.  Speaking of which, I'll tell y'all about the Writer's Group that has come into my life next time.  And I should have a full report about Stu's condition after his seizure last Monday.  (Short answer, he seems fine.  Waiting on test results.)   Stay tuned, and thanks for reading!