Joyful Exuberance

I was awake during the night tossing and turning and thinking about my dear husband Bill.  Many images came to my mind, and I thought again about the energy he exuded as he tackled life.  He was a person who didn’t sit still even when he was “sitting still.”

Not many people enjoy shoveling snow or weeding a garden, but he seemed to get genuine pleasure from these activities.  I can picture him carrying his bucket of weeds to the compost pile  with a bounce in his step.  I can see him stomping the snow off his boots with a look of accomplishment having shoveled the sidewalks and driveway.   I don’t think I ever saw him trudge wearily.

One of my earliest memories of this type of behavior comes from our dating years.  The summer of 1967, I was working 11 pm to 7 am at a hospital.  He was an early adopter of computers for data processing back in the days of mainframes.  He had to rent time on a local computer during the hours when the business which owned the computer wasn’t using it.  That meant he had to run his reports at night.  If his night to rent computer time coincided with a night I wasn’t working, I would go with him and read while he worked.  When his reports were completed, he would print them out.  The old printers were noisy, but they made a rhythmic sound.  He would dance to the rhythm of the printer with a gleeful expression.  I couldn’t resist laughing and that encouraged his display of enthusiasm.  He vibrated with energy and the joy of life.

I have missed the energetic aura that surrounded him.  I recently reread sympathy cards and noticed that one of his employees had written that he always knew when Bill had entered the factory, because his energy could be felt. 

That aura was apparent until the day he went into cardiac arrest.  Right up to the end, he was approaching everything he did with vigor…well, there were a few exceptions to that…things he had put up with for years, that he was just plain tired of.  But, that did not include pickleball, a sport he had just recently taken up.  A lady who played with him remarked, “With Bill, every game was the Olympics.  He went after every shot!”

Seeing him comatose, totally unresponsive for 8 days, I knew I could not keep him here.  He had made it clear he didn’t want to be kept in a vegetative state, and I knew it was incompatible with the way he had approached life.  He wanted to run right up to the gates of heaven.

I like to picture the joyful exuberance he is now experiencing in heaven.  God did not make him to sit still, so I expect he has been given an assignment that brings him joy.  He danced through life and right into eternity.  I expect he is still dancing.

A Special Treasure Hunt

Recently my five year-old granddaughter along with her parents and siblings visited me at my cottage.  The very first day, she was very anxious to take me on a treasure hunt.  She had hidden some treasures for me, and she had drawn a treasure map.  The map was very crude…she is after all only five…and I would never have guessed where the treasure was from the map alone.  She took my hand and guided me in the general direction.  She also gave me the hint that the treasure was in a round building.  She pointed out that on her map there was an X in the middle of a circle.

There are only two circular buildings on the campgrounds…the Main Tab (which means tabernacle and is where religious services are held) and a Gazebo which is a lovely spot with hanging baskets of flowers.

She steered me in the direction of the Gazebo, and there right in the middle was a Ziploc bag containing items which would be treasures to a five-year-old.  Shiny objects of various types filled the bag…beads and coins and fake jewels.  She was very pleased that I had found it.  I was relieved we had gone on the treasure hunt before some other child came along and found the treasure, since it was in plain sight.

As we returned to my cottage, she said, “I want you to put the treasure map on your refrigerator, because I don’t want you to forget me.”

How could I possibly forget her!  I would have to be in a state of extreme dementia to forget any of my grandchildren!

But, I did put the map on the frig along with other grandchild created items.

Reflecting on this, I have thought about the fact that God never forgets His children.  He doesn’t have a refrigerator on which to put our pictures or drawings, but He has carved our name in the palms of His hands (Isaiah 49:16)

I have a ring with the birthstones of my children and grandchildren.  It reminds me to pray for them, but carving our name in His palms is a step way beyond that.  I could become senile and forgetful, but God will not…cannot.  What a comforting thought!

Gemstones in my Wake

On the boat watching the wake,

I see the spray of water,

Droplets sparkling in the sunlight,

Are thousands of dazzling diamonds.

 

I dream I am a queen,

Riding in my chariot,

Driven by my favorite knight,

Leaving diamonds in my wake.

 

But I am but a woman,

My boat and my knight are gone.

If only I could cast behind me,

Shining pearls of wisdom.

The Crimson Veil

I stand before a holy God,

By frequent failings marred,

By persistent sinning scarred,

By troubles encumbered,

By enemies outnumbered.

How often I’ve blundered,

Opportunities squandered,

With patience expired,

With work uninspired.

 

What will He do with me?

His glory encountered,

My ego devoured.

Will He redirect me?

Will He redefine me?

Will He be angered

By His image disfigured,

His perfect plan altered,

As I’ve stumbled and faltered?

 

His gaze is piercing, but…

          With loving eyes, He looks

Through the crimson veil,

Drawn from wounds of the nail,

          And by His grace, I am…

Redeemed!             

                                

Who Got Stuck with Judas?

In Mark 6:7 and 12-13, we read,  “Calling the twelve to him, he sent them out two by two and gave them authority over evil spirits.”  Following his instructions, “They went out and preached that people should repent.  They drove out many demons and anointed many sick people with oil and healed them.”

I’ve read this passage many times before, but this is the first time I was struck by the fact that the 12 went out two by two.  They each ministered with a partner.  Sooooooo….who was the partner of Judas, and how did that go?  Did Judas function empowered by the Spirit of God?  Was it his partner who carried the burden of ministry?  Was Judas’ inclination toward evil in any way apparent to the person who worked so closely with him?  Were they any less effective than other twosomes?

In Luke 22:3, it says that Satan entered Judas just prior to the betrayal.  However, we also know from John 12:6 that Judas was the “treasurer” for the group and that he had his hand in the money bag.  This would indicate that he was not a whole-hearted follower of Jesus from the beginning.  He was in the habit of giving in to temptation.

This raises all sorts of questions in my mind.  A big one is how one goes from being a person who preaches repentance and a person to whom God gives the gift of healing to a person who will regularly give in to temptation and ultimately betray the Lord.  But, haven’t we seen this in our times with the fall of well-known and respected preachers and teachers?  Do the believers around them ignore the “little sins?”  Do they fail to hold them accountable?

After spending an extended time in ministry with Judas, did his partner not see anything amiss?  Did anyone go to Jesus and express concern?  Of course, in the case of Judas, Christ knew what would happen and that it was a necessary part of the plan for our redemption.  So, if another disciple had expressed concern to Him, He would have told him not to worry about it…that he knew what Judas was thinking and doing.  Actually, I think women often have better instincts than men when it comes to someone’s true nature, so it wouldn’t surprise me to find out that a woman in the group expressed her concerns about him.

God knows and will ultimately judge rightly, but I think we bear responsibility to hold those with whom we partner accountable.  We need to care enough to confront when we see someone edging their way toward betrayal.

Ruthie Will Manage

Recently I mentioned to someone that my family did not expect Bill to die before me.  They thought that I would die first, and then they would spend the next ten years worried about what Bill might be up to.  The person asked, “Aren’t they worried about you?”

Hmmm….probably not.  I think most of my family has always expected me to “manage” no matter what happens.  This included my own Mother, who got over worrying about me early on.

As a child, I went away from home every summer to a Girls’ Camp which was held during a week in August.  One year, when I was about 8 or 9, there was a major cold snap during the week I was at camp.  My Mother did not drive, so when my Father got home from work the day following the bitter cold night, my Mother insisted he drive down to the camp with extra blankets.

When Dad arrived at the camp, I was surprised to see him, and I explained that I had not been cold at all.  I had gone to bed in my warmest pajamas wearing in addition: socks, a sweater, my robe (which I think was quilted) and a scarf on my head.  My parents found this amusing…and reassuring.

Years later it was time for me to go away to nursing school, and four years after that, my brother went off to college.  My Father was perplexed.  He said to my Mother, “We took your daughter 700 miles away from home, and you never shed a tear.  We took you son only 200 miles from home, and you cried all the way home!”

My Mother replied, “I knew Ruthie could manage.”

So now without my sweetheart, I manage.  For years we faced every difficulty in life as a team.  We managed together.  Now I face life without him.  Fortunately, I have Jesus by my side. 

I am not always happy with life as it is now, but by the grace of God, I am managing.

Things I Shouldn't Read or See

There are things I probably should no longer read or see.

This morning, I saw a headline about a 16-month-old girl who was left alone in a playpen while her mother took a vacation for 10 days.  When she returned, the child was unresponsive and either died or had died.  I immediately started to cry.  I really should stop clicking on and reading such articles as it breaks my heart and results in immediate tears.  I don’t leave my plants for 10 days without arranging for someone to water them!  I would not leave a child that age alone for 10 hours, much less 10 days.  I would likely be checking every 10 minutes or less.

My mother was this way near the end of her life.  I thought it was because of her recent stroke, but I don’t know that it didn’t happen before that.  I just knew about it, because I was caring for her after the stroke.  We couldn’t let her watch the evening news.  If anything came on that stated or implied that children were in danger, she would burst into tears and cry out “the children, the children!”  This was at the point where she couldn’t carry on a conversation and often spoke gibberish.

Shortly after the war in Ukraine began, I saw an image on television that still plays in my mind.  A young boy, perhaps about 10, was walking down a road with devastation all around.  He was completely alone, no adult near him, and he was carrying a black garbage bag.  I assumed the bag contained his belongings.  He was staggering along the road crying as he went.  This image keeps coming back to my mind and causes tears to well up in my eyes.  My only comfort is that I hear the Lord say, “the hairs of his head are numbered.”

I don’t know if it is old age or the fact that my emotions are more raw than ever before since the loss of my husband.  Then again, I’ve had these feelings at other points in my life.

I know it’s not Christmas, but I first heard this song in the late 60s before we had children, and it brought tears to my eyes then, as it expressed the desire for all children to be cared for and loved.

Sandler and Young, I Sing Noel

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V4R06T14Qac