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Dear Mama,

Dear Mama,

Your birthday was last week. I thought of you, celebrating your birthday in heaven. Happy Birthday, Mama. If you had been here, Larry and Becky and I would have brought a cake to you and celebrated. You would have been 88 years old!  I would have loved to have you here to celebrate. I miss you, Mama.

I looked through your purse the other day, Mama. Read every little note you had written, cherishing your handwriting, the handwriting that we always laughed about together – scratchy!. I browsed through one of your diaries, the one from 2003, wishing we could be back there again, spending time at your Florida house. Every once in awhile, I look in the mirror and catch a glimpse — of you! I haven’t erased your messages on my answering machine, Mama, but I haven’t been able to listen to them, either – for such a long time now. I think I’ll try again in a few days. As much as it hurts, I want to hear your voice again.

I bet you miss me and you feel badly for all I’ve been going through. If you were here, you would have worried so, and I didn’t want you to worry. But oh, how I long to have you hold me in your arms. Now you understand how things are — here — and there — and what’s best. How the Lord  really works things out for good for those of us who love Him. (You really understand Romans 8:28, now, don’t you?)  Speaking of the Word, do you read it there? Do you speak it? Or sing it? Or since Jesus is the Word, does He just totally indwell you? Wow! It’s awesome, Mama. You must love it there. Well, anyway, I’ll bet you really DO miss me – you just don’t miss being here – even though you loved the place — the country, the yellow house, the garden, the land.

Speaking of the yellow house, Mama, it’s almost time for Amber to move in. Isn’t that amazing? Of all the grandchildren, she’s the one who will love it the most — will love living there — will love the country, the yellow house, the garden, and the land. She’s the one who will love watching the deer and the turkeys. Well, anyway, today, Jake and Jesse’s cousin moved most of Amber’s things from the storage unit. I’ve been cleaning and getting things ready. I want to have a cloth on her kitchen table. I think she’ll cry to walk into the house and know it’s hers! She’ll have to live there by herself for awhile; then the kids will join her. What a blessed day that will be! But most awesome will be when Jesse joins her. They’ll be a whole family again!

The yellow house was painted; I was so careful to select just the right yellow, and I think it’s perfect! Then I had Jim put all the spindles on the porch rail – the spindles that have sat in the granary for about 30 years. They’re back on the porch were they belong!

And oh how pretty the new porch light looks! I occasionally leave it on overnight – just so I can look over there and see the light. Reminds me of you — of you expecting someone to drive in. Just to think of the years you left the porch light on, waiting for Larry, or for me, or for Becky! Little did I know then that I would do the same thing with my children, and now, Amber will do the same with her children – right back in your house — the yellow house.

And as much as you loved the yellow house, Mama, I’ll bet you don’t really miss it, either. I’ll bet God has given you a new one in heaven – or prepared it for you to have when he takes us all there together. And I’ll bet that yellow house (the one in heaven) has the open stairway you always wanted — and the summer kitchen with the green and cream colored cook stove. And Daddy shares that yellow house with you! Wow!

Can you see us here Mama? Do you know about our new baby Luke? Mama, please touch the hem of the Lord Jesus’ garment in behalf of little baby Luke. Ask our Lord to heal baby Luke. And ask Him to bless our baby boy still in Lynette’s womb. Two new babies, Mama. Two more to fill the empty spots you and Daddy left.

I’m so happy for you, and I can’t wait to be with you and Daddy there someday. Hug Daddy for me. I miss him so much. Tell him I’ll write him soon.

You’re both with our Savior, Mama. What peace you must finally have! That peace is just about beyond my comprehension. I’m always striving for it here – I write about it sometimes. It’s so difficult to be steadfast, but I keep trying. As much as I look forward to seeing you both, I know the first and foremost joy will be seeing my Savior, Jesus. I can only imagine!

(Click here for the link to I can only imagine . . .)

“I can only imagine what it will be like

when I walk by your side.

No more pain. No walker. No wheelchair. 

I can only imagine what my eyes will see

when your face is before me.

I can only imagine; I can only imagine!

Surrounded by your glory, what will my heart feel?

What did your heart feel, Mama?

Will I dance for you Jesus, or in awe of you be still?

I’ll bet your danced, didn’t you, Mama?

Will I stand in your presence, or to my knees will I fall?

Will I sing hallelujah, or will I be able to speak at all?

I can only imagine; I can only imagine!

I can only imagine when that day  comes

when I find myself standing in the Son!

I can only imagine when all I will do

is forever, forever worship you!

I can only imagine; I can only imagine!” (Mercy Me)

Some day, Mama, some day.

I’ve thought of you so much today, Mama. I miss you so much. I’ll write again after I listen to your voice again on the answering machine.

With love,

your honey girl.

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Hope and a future! 2013 – I will bring you back!

It’s mine.

It’s yours.

Hope and a future in 2013.

God says He will never leave us or forsake us. (Hebrews 13:5b)

2012 was the most difficult year of my life. But He never left me through it all nor did He ever forsake me. The pain was nearly unbearable at times, but His grace was even greater.

In February, our youngest daughter and her husband were arrested. The four days that followed were a blur. So devastating that I don’t remember all the details. Ron and I held each other and dropped to our knees, crying out to God for help. He helped us. I learned to pray unlike I had ever known before. The pleas and praises came from a depth within me that I hadn’t known existed. I prayed without ceasing – quietly, silently, or aloud while walking through the grocery store! Communion with my Lord unintentionally encompassed my every moment during those days. Later, communion with my Lord became intentional.

In March, my daddy died. Yes, he was old. Yes, he had dementia. Yes, it was a blessing. But he was my daddy, and the pain was real and continues to rouse from time to time. I miss snuggling his neck and face. I miss hearing him say, “I love you. Be careful now, honey.”

In April, my mama died. If you’ve lost both parents, you realize how final the passing of the last one is. I’m 10 years old again, and I’m an orphan. The last months, weeks, and days were terrible – she suffered so. Through it all, God was faithful. His grace was so real. But the night after her funeral, after all the family was gone, including the grandchildren who had been my comfort — after the beautiful words were spoken and the songs were sung, I suddenly couldn’t find that grace. I honestly thought I couldn’t go on. I’ve never felt so empty in my entire life. I had no peace. I had no joy. But I remembered that there was a love there that I could feel, if I could just reach it – if I could just find it. So I spoke the only words I could: “I love you, Lord. I love you, Lord.” Over and over I said those words. The peace came. It filled me. The grief remained, but His peace surpassed the grief. I found Him to be faithful in the midst of my greatest grief.

Court dates, pleas, recovery programs, caregiving, taking classes, teaching courses, 50-mile round trips to and from school, doctor and dental appointments, baths and bedtimes, overseeing homework, laundry, cooking, and finally, the sentencing, filled my 2012 days and drained my natural energy, but the Lord was my strength. When I felt I couldn’t go on, I remembered those dear people who were praying for me – I remembered them by name and thanked God for them and prayed for them, in return. I trusted that God would give me the strength He promised, and I told myself that if I did not believe it, it would be an insult to Him, so I believed in that strength.

“When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought joy to my soul.” (Psalm 94:19)

~~   ~~   ~~   ~~

Because of the Lord’s work, my prayers have been answered. My daughter and her husband embraced the Savior. Their lives are totally transformed. They now walk with and honor the Lord with their lives. I thank God for answered prayer.

I also thank God for the heritage left me by my daddy and mama. I cherish every memory and envision them together in their “big yellow house” in heaven.

~~   ~~   ~~   ~~

As the year 2012 came to an end, our tenth grandchild was born – Luke Ryan Greene, our Bringer of Light. God blessed us with him. He was born with heart defects. We trust God for his complete healing. We began to see miracles. His platelets had lowered to 60,000 – then to 54,000. The levels were becoming dangerous. The next day, his platelets were over 100,000! He required oxygen for days. Then suddenly, his oxygen levels became normal, and the oxygen was removed. He went home! He relishes in the environment of his home, with the commotion of his active brother and sisters. He flourishes in the nourishment of his mother’s milk. He gains weight! 1 lb. 3 oz within 2 1/2 weeks! The next cardiologist visit and tests revealed that two defects were healed! We trust and await the continued healing of his heart, for we know that he is fearfully and wonderfully made and God loves little Luke.

This is the first of the miracles I am looking for in 2013 – the complete healing of our precious little Luke!

“Nothing is impossible with God.” Luke 1:37

Next, I am looking for the miracle of the birth of our eleventh grandchild – healthy little baby boy Waligora, to be born in March!

“Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you, before you were born, I set you apart; I appointed you . . .” Jeremiah 1:5

And, in 2013, we will rejoice when our dear three grandchildren who now live with us are reunited with their parents!

 “All your children will be taught by the Lord, and great will be your children’s peace.” Isaiah 54:13

What does the Lord have planned in 2013?

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. . . I will be found by you . . . I will bring you back . . ” (Jeremiah 29:11-14a)

The Lord said “Call to me, and I will answer you and show you great and mighty things which you do not know.” (Jeremiah 33:3)

We have called!

He will show us!

He will bring us back in 2013!

If you have not yet called on the Lord Jesus Christ, accept Him as your Savior! “Faith comes from hearing the message and the message is heard through the word of Christ.” Read about it in the Word. See Romans 10:8-13. the Bible says that if you confess with your mouth (speak it) that Jesus is the Lord and you believe in your heart that God has raised him from the dead, you will be saved. Call, email, or message me. I’d love to hear from you. God loves you and has a wonderful plan for your life! Plans for hope and a future! A bright future!

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You did for me.

The courtroom was full of family and friends–our supporters.
Glenna spoke encouragement.
Jen spoke comfort.
Larry supported my arm as I walked to the car.
Someone prayed.

~~~

Coffee and a long talk with best friends.

Bible study ladies caring, holding, praying.

~~~

We were the least. We were broken.

We were thirsty.

~~~

You received us. You gave us drink.

You were His hands–His feet.

Someone continues to pray.

“I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.” Jesus. (Matthew 25:40)

And you did for us.

Further Reading: Matthew 10:40-42

More to come on what I must now do.

(Be sure to read my previous post, “God Is Using You.”)

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Rejoice in our sufferings? How?

Through him we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings (Romans 5:2-3b)

What?

If you are suffering, for whatever reason, you might join me in wondering

how in the world

can I

 ever

rejoice in my suffering.

In fact, it might even make you cry to think about it. Because when suffering, crying comes

easily

and often

to some of us.

(Crying is coming easily and often to me right now!)

This week, let’s read Romans 5:1-5. Then, in your comments to this short Bible study, discuss the word, “rejoice.” What does it mean?

Use your concordance to find other verses or passages that include the word “rejoice” or  “joy.” In doing so, narrow your findings to those verses or passages that might help explain the connection found in rejoicing and suffering. In other words, what does the Bible tell us about rejoicing (or joy) and suffering?

Please share your findings and ideas – then come back to comment on others.

Today is Friday, November 23. Let’s share and comment throughout the next week; then look for a new posting on this continuing study of Romans 5:1-5 on or about Friday, November 30.

I look forward to reading your comments, verses, passages, and ideas.

ps. When you make your comment (below), be sure to check the box or boxes to be notified when others comment on this same study. It’s all a good part of the study!

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It’s part of the journey


Throughout the last six months, I’ve shared feelings of grief.

You’ve read about it.

You’ve comforted.

You’ve understood.

Now, I know you’ll understand how my journey is taking me down a new path -and how I’m learning that it’s part of the journey to move on.
.

The yellow house on a dreary day

It’s a dreary, rainy, late October morning. The sun is not shining. The trees are no longer covered with brilliant foliage. One might think I’d be depressed today, but I’m not. The same grace God has rained down upon me in the past is pouring upon me today. It’s not a cold rain like I feel outside today; it’s a warm, refreshing rain, and I’m basking in it.
As I prayed this morning, I looked across the yard at the yellow house, as I often do, and again I thanked God for the heritage bestowed upon me by my parents. But this time, no lump comes to my throat; no tears well in my eyes. Instead, I see a path ahead that that is bright and sunny, and as I step onto the path, the rain of grace that covers me is soothing and healing. I read (slightly paraphrased),
“My daughter, keep your father’s commands and do not forsake your mother’s teaching.
Bind them upon your heart forever; fasten them around your neck.
When you walk , they will guide you; when you sleep, they will watch over you;
when you awake, they will speak to you.
For these commands are a lamp, this teaching is a light,
and the corrections of discipline are the way to life.”
(Proverbs 6:20-23)
God leads me in a new path today. If you’ve been there, you’ll understand. If you haven’t, ask God for the grace to find it. The beautiful part of the journey is moving on.
 

 
 
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I Don’t Like It

Six and seven months have passed since I lost my parents. Many of you know how it is. Just when I think I’m moving on, something happens that moves me back one step. In the last week, I heard of the passing of several friends and acquaintances of my parents (and mine) – dear people their ages. Finality. Reality. I don’t like it.

This week, I attended the funeral of my very close friend’s father. The reality of it all brought more hurt. But God has given me comfort today:
“I thought I couldn’t live without him, but now I know I can. That would make him proud.”
(Oscar Schell, speaking about his father, in Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close – a powerful film with many inspirational messages imbedded in the story.)

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Grief to Beauty

“His glory covered the heavens and his praise filled the earth, His splendor was like the sunrise; rays flashed from his hand, where his power was hidden.” (Habakkuk 3:3b,4)

I went to the grave this morning to replace the once pink geraniums and withered vines with a mum plant, bursting with soft purple blossoms, one I knew Mama would have loved.
I hadn’t been to the grave in weeks, an unusual break of custom for me, but after months of faithful visits, tending and watering the summer blooms, often crying, and always reminiscing, a persistent grief had encompassed me, a grief I had been trying to shake by avoiding the tradition. So on this crisp autumn morning, I faced grief in order to bring beauty.

The little country cemetery was quiet. Sunshine flooded the diamonded dew.

As I stopped the car, close to the grave site, two old wild turkeys left low branches of a century-old maple at the edge of the cemetery and flew a short distance to the ground, their heavy bodies lighting not far from Mom and Dad’s grave.

I wondered how many times Mom and Dad had seen these very birds from the kitchen window of their yellow house – across the road from this cemetery – in their daily rituals of watching families of turkeys roam the countryside. I wondered if these two turkeys had followed Mom and Dad to their final resting place, perhaps waiting their own time to pass, as well. They fled when I lifted the latch gate, took the plant, and walked the few, somber steps to the stone.

Together Forever, I read.

“Mama, Daddy,” I cried, as I had so many times before.

As I grieved, I stepped behind the stone and discovered that since my last visit,the bronze plaque had been set in place, the honor bestowed Daddy by the Veterans Administration. I pulled out my cell phone and took a picture of it to send to my sister, but it wasn’t until after I later opened the electronic picture that I saw the rays of sun flooding over the tombstone and into my lens.

I considered the “splendor” of the morning and the sun rays that “flash from his hand.” I was reminded of his “power”– the power that lifted the very souls from Daddy and Mama’s aged bodies; the power that will one day lift those broken bodies out of that grave and transform them into perfect models of their once young, vibrant beings; the power that will bring us all together again; “His divine power” that “has given us everything . . . and has given us his very great and precious promises . . .” (1 Peter 1:4). . .

and the power that consoles my grief in order to bring beauty.
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Grief in the midst of resurrection

Sunday, April 8 – Celebrating the Resurrection! Easter – my favorite day of the year!!! We had a beautiful sunshiny Easter morning and a blessed worship service.

I have had great peace and experienced much grace through everything. We buried my mother yesterday at the cemetery across the road. The sun was shining – the birds were singing. Mom’s soul is in heaven. Our precious nine grandchildren stood behind me as I sat close to the casket (or her “basket” as my little Kaylee called it!) at her burial. I could literally see Mom’s life continuing on in mylife – in my children’s lives – and in my grandchildren’s lives. All was well with the world.

 Being the human that I am (I suppose this is the reason) – later in the day, after most of our family had gone home, I suffered the greatest grief I have ever known. Ron tried to comfort me, “It’s okay, honey.”

“No, it’s not okay,” I responded. “And it never will be okay without my Mama.”

Ron nearly held me up as we walked outside in the fresh air – down the road, while I sobbed and cried out to God. I knew His peace and comfort could be there for me, but I didn’t feel it – I just couldn’t feel it at the time. I began repeating, “I love you, Lord.” Over and over I said it, placing my focus on my love for Him, realizing that He could comfort and fill me with his love, if and when I allowed Him to. Then we prayed together. The pain and grief is still there, but I do have peace in the midst of it, and for that, I am so thankful. I know He will heal my broken heart.

I know that there is much deeper, greater grief than I am experiencing – by those who lose children and spouses. But my grief is real; my grief is deep; and my God is sufficient even in the midst of it.
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A grace welcomed

Saturday, April 7
The sun was shining through the trees this morning. I said to Ron, “Honey, look at the beautiful sunrise. ‘Even in darkness, light dawns for the upright.'” My heart was breaking, but I remembered God’s promises. We woke our children and dressed to go to Mama’s funeral. Comforting arms surrounded me from the moment I walked in the door of the funeral home and have surrounded me all day. Friends and family lavished their love on me and my family. It became the comfort of Christ to me. I saw and felt the hands of Christ all day as people ministered to us.
My heart breaks inside but God’s grace is sufficient for today, and I welcome that grace with open arms and heart. Our grandchildren (and grand niece) bounced around all day, laughing, dancing, and playing together. It was a constant reminder of Mom “living on” in our family through her children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren. When Ron and I drove in the funeral procession from Quincy to the cemetery, following the white hearse, which carried my Mama with flowers surrounding her, our back seats were filled with little grandchildren while “Curious George” played on the DVD!!! This had not been planned, but God used it to bring joy to my heart and to remind me that my life will go on and Mom’s life will go on within our family!
Thank you, friends, for your love, concern, and comfort.
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A Glorious Day

Day Four am – April 4, 2012
Even in darkness, light dawns for the upright (Ps. 112). Because of the Lord’s great love, we are not consumed, for his compassion never fails. It is new every morning. His faithfulness is great. (Lam. 3:22, 23) Today, the sun is shining – it is a new day – and it will be a glorious new day for my mama.