I wonder where my ring is...

My grandfather was one of my favorite people in the entire world.  I adored him.  He adored me and called me "Stink Cheese."  Shortly before my tenth birthday (at least, I think it was my tenth), I confided something in him.


I suppose I had just recently learned about birthstones and figured out that mine was the diamond.  So, I said to my grandfather, "You know, I am never going to have my birthstone until I am all grown up."
"Why?" he asked.
"Well, my birthstone is a diamond, and I don't suppose I'll have one until I'm a grown lady and get engaged."


I honestly wasn't fishing.  I was just sharing a thought that was rattling about in my little girl brain.  I had no idea that my grandfather would ever consider buying me a diamond.  I assumed they were super-expensive.


On my birthday as Grandpa handed me a small wrapped package, Grandma declared that this was all his doing.  I opened the box and found another box inside....and another inside of that.  I don't remember how many boxes I opened before I came to a very, very small box.  Inside was a ring with a yellow gold band and a tiny diamond in the center of a square white gold setting.  It was nothing more than a diamond chip, but it might as well have been 10 carats.


I can't begin to describe how precious that ring was to me, especially when my grandfather died just before my twelfth birthday.  I only wore it for special occasions.  As I grew, I had to begin wearing it on my pinkie finger.  I never put it on without thinking of him and the special bond he and I had shared during my early years.


When I was about eighteen and living in the dormitory of a nursing school in the Chicago area, a woman came into the dorm and went from room to room stealing items of value.  Many of the students lost money.  From me she took my dearest personal possession....my tiny diamond ring.  She apparently was expert at scanning a jewelry box and picking out items of value.  She also took a locket that had special family meaning, but it was the loss of the ring that broke my heart.


After my mother passed away, and I was given her ring, my loss came back to me.  I thought how incredible it would have been to be able to wear my own engagement ring, my mother's ring, and my grandfather's gift.  It would have been a visual reminder of  the continuity of family love.


I have no idea why I thought about the ring this morning, but I am wondering where it is.  I hope it hasn't been lost between floor boards or accidentally discarded.  I hope some young girl is actually wearing it and enjoying it.  I hope that it means more to her than the monetary value, and that when she looks at it, she thinks of the person who gave it to her with great love.

A Mother's Day Meditation

Exodus 1:22-2:3 Then Pharaoh gave this order to all his people; "Every boy that is born you must throw into the Nile, but let every girl live."  Now a man of the house of Levi married a Levite woman, and she became pregnant and gave birth to a son.  When she saw that he was a fine child, she hid him for three months.  But when she could hide him no longer, she got a papyrus basket for him and coated it with tar and pitch.  Then she placed the child in it and put it among the reeds along the bank of the Nile.


I can scarcely imagine the agony of being pregnant in Egypt during this time.  How could a mother bear to throw her newborn son into the Nile river?  On the other hand, how could she bear to do it later after bonding with him for three months?


Moses' mother was not the first or last mother to have to make an impossible choice.  Thankfully most of us aren't confronted with such a decision, but most mothers do have some difficult choices presented in the course of raising children.


When she could no longer hide him, Moses' mother took a step of faith.  She fulfilled the letter of the law....she did put her son into the Nile.  But, she did it so as to provide as much protection as she was able to create.  She could not have foreseen what would happen, but the God in whom she placed her faith foreknew exactly what would happen.  God used Pharaoh's wicked decree and the faith of Moses' mother to bring about the rescue of the Jews from Egypt.  


As mothers, we cannot know what the consequences of our choices will be.  Let us make them in faith, believing that God loves our children even more than we do.


Happy Mother's Day

To Tell the Truth

I guess there have been times in my life when I have tried to dance around the truth in order to spare someones feelings.  But more commonly, I get into trouble for telling the truth too bluntly.  


I once promised an employer that I would tell him the truth even when it was not in my best interests to tell it, and even when he didn't really want to hear it.  I told him I hoped to be valued for that.  I think people in authority ought to appreciate someone who will lay things out for them and not mislead them.  Being afraid to speak the truth is really abhorrent to me.


When I was in early grade school our playground was covered with rough stone, and we were not allowed to run in the playground for fear of injury.  One day, in my little girl exuberance, I ran a few steps. Within seconds, I felt a rough hand on the back of my collar.  An older boy who was assigned as a playground monitor had grabbed me.  
He said, "You were running!"  
Trembling I replied, "No, I wasn't.  I didn't run."
I immediately hated myself not just for lying, but for lying out of fear.  That bothered me for years and may have provided me with the compulsion to blurt out the truth when no one wants to hear it.  It turns out that this is viewed as a character flaw.


However, having a reputation as a truth-teller no matter what has been advantageous in the past couple of days.  My mother-in-law has recently made considerable progress in recovering from the stroke she suffered at the beginning of April. Yesterday when I told her how well she was doing and what an improvement I could see, she said, "When anyone else tells me that, I think they are just flattering me.  When you tell me, I believe it."  She seemed genuinely encouraged, and I was delighted that she knew I would give it to her straight.


It's nice to know that sometimes this character "flaw" can be of benefit.

Mama Robin

We watched her over a period of several days carefully constructing her nest, a bit surprised by its location.  A large evergreen bush immediately in front of our living room window seemed to us an unlikely spot.  A light on a timer beams into the nest every evening, and we have a direct view of her home.  Perhaps she has sacrificed privacy for the sake of the shelter provided by the eaves of the house.


From the dining room window, we saw her in the backyard picking up dry grass.  We would move to the living room and watch her place it in the nest.  She seemed to be packing it down and making the interior of the nest conform to her personal shape.  One day another bird perched on the bush, and she chased it away.  She didn't seem to be spending very much time in the nest so we assumed the eggs were not yet laid.


We arrived home last evening after visiting grandchildren in Maine for a week.  Apparently Mama Robin laid her eggs in our absence, because she is now a permanent resident of the nest.  Last evening the wind blew furiously and the bush swayed.  She huddled down, flattening herself into the nest.


This morning she is again in the nest.  A mourning dove perched on the top of the bush, but Mama Robin did not budge from her position.  Her beady little eyes are darting here and there.


She is less than six feet above the ground, but I haven't seen any cats prowling in this neighborhood, so I hope she is safe.  I wish her well.  The world can be a dangerous place for mothers and babies of all species....including our own.

Celebrating Easter in China 2011

The news today tells us that China has refused to allow one of the major "house churches" to gather for their Easter service.  I suppose the authorities think they are accomplishing something with that action.  Ironically, it doesn't matter how they try to suppress and oppress.  Christianity has always prospered under persecution, because truth is truth whether or not those in authority decide to acknowledge it.


Christ is risen!  He did not stay in the tomb.  He conquered death and sin fully and completely, and demonstrated His victory in the resurrection.  Of course, not everyone believes this.  But, for those of us who do, it is empowering.  Sin and evil have no more control over us. Human governments and authorities may appear to be "winning," but we know who will win ultimately.  Every knee will bow to Him and every tongue will confess Him as Lord.....even the Chinese government.  Won't they be surprised?


Occasionally someone from China reads this blog.  If readers are believers, my prayers are with you.  If you are not, consider which side of this you want to be on.

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/04/25/world/asia/25church.html

Waiting for the Chariot

Flash of silver, streak of gold,

Drawn by fiery steeds,

Arcing through the black of night,

Swing down, swing down for me.

More rapid than the speed of light,

Transcending space and time,

Come in answer to my cry,

Swing down and take me home.

I want to leave the bondage,

Of this body worn by pain,

I’ll step into the chariot,

And joyfully ride home.

Speed me through the gate of pearl,

And on to streets of gold,

Yearning for your coming,

Consumes my heart and soul.

I trust not in my goodness,

To barter for the ride,

I plead the atoning blood,

Of Jesus crucified.

So, chariot, make haste,

Hear my earnest plea,

Swing down, sweet chariot,

Swing down, swing down for me.

for my mother-in-law who is waiting (4-20-11)

When Life Comes at You from Every Direction...

Yesterday my mother-in-law who recently had a stroke was transferred from the hospital to a nursing home.  Unfortunately, information about her condition and care didn't make it across the driveway with her to the new location.

She hasn't fed herself since the stroke.  She will eat a piece of toast or a cookie if you put it in her hand, but has not picked up a utensil and tried to get food to her mouth.  Last evening, my husband went to visit her.  He found her tray sitting on the bedside table, stone-cold.  Her covers were neatly folded at the foot of the bed, as though someone had expected her to sit up on the side by herself and eat.  She was cold from being uncovered.  He covered her and had her food reheated.  Then he fed her himself.  He later found the supervisor and told her that DNR doesn't mean starve to death.  My husband is one of the most even tempered people on the planet.  He was clearly not happy.

When he mentioned to me that her catheter had been removed, I immediately thought, "Oh, boy....I wonder what the plan is to get her to the bathroom....she can't walk that far!"  When I arrived this morning, she was wet. Two aides were about to try to walk her to the bathroom.  She was protesting that she couldn't walk that far without her walker.  The truth is that currently she can't walk that far WITH her walker.

So, I met with the nurse manager.  We discussed that she needed to be fed, that a plan had to be in place for regular toileting, that she is lactose intolerant and there was regular milk on her tray this morning, that she is too confused to reliably use the call button, that during the course of the hospitalization she has been over-medicated for pain to the point of being totally incoherent, etc. etc.  Fortunately, for both of us, the nurse manager was pleasant, receptive and knowledgeable.  Now we will see if that is translated into appropriate action by the staff.

After the meeting, I went to my in-laws home and got some of her clothes, sneakers to use at therapy, her walker, a seat cushion, an album of family pictures and miscellaneous other items.  I took them to the nursing home.  She was in therapy, and I found her there.  She told the therapist it was October of 1920-something, but she knew me and called me by name.  Some of what she told the therapist was reliable and some was not.  She knew she had had personal care aides at home, but thought she had to go and pick them up herself.  She hasn't driven in several years.

These activities shot the entire morning.  I don't begrudge her the time, but it's tough when multiple generations need you.  This afternoon, I took one of my grandsons shopping for baseball pants and batting gloves.  If I didn't have all of this going on with my mother-in-law, I would have brought him back to my house for supper.  Instead, he and I enjoyed ice-cream at Friendly's, and I delivered him to his other grandma's house.

Life is coming at me from all directions at the moment.

I am relying on my favorite passage of scripture.....Isaiah 58:9-11

Then you will call, and the Lord will answer; you will cry for help, and he will say:  Here am I.  If you do away with the yoke of oppression, with the pointing finger and malicious talk, and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed, then your light will rise in darkness and your night will become like noonday.  The Lord will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame.  You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail.