Unless you live under a rock, you probably know that Father's Day is this coming Sunday. Every year I get Paul something, and every year he takes it back. He can't stand to let me spend money on him, weird. I went to one of my favorite stores and purchased shorts to replace his shorts that once again, have holes. Yes, he still wares those shorts after stitching them back together, to the best of his ability. I hate to sew, and have successfully obscured the fact that I am actually quite good at it. I have successfully avoided the purchase of three sewing machines. Two of which were returned because something was wrong with them, Praise God! The afore mentioned new shorts were on sale, yay me! I have figured out a plan, to ensure he will keep his gifts this year. We give Sarah an allowance. I am simply going to give her extra allowance this week & she can get daddy a gift, ha! Rather, she can give him the gifts I got, and we can say she got them with her allowance. It's fool proof......I hope.
I wanted one thing for Mother's day. A new pair of comfy cotton sleep pants, because mine are hanging around my waist by a thread, literally. I could stitch them, but that's not likely to happen. I received a pair of dress pants and capris instead. I took back the horrible printed dress pants but the capris fit, and look nice. Still looking for said sleep ware. Perhaps I should have purchased two pair 15 years ago, when I bought the original ones. I guess I am as bad as Paul, when it comes to dawning worn out items.
Thankfully, in Heaven, nothing will ware out, Ever. There will be no need to stich items back together. I will have successfully avoided said project for eternity. Now that's Heaven for me. Nothing will ware out, and there is no need to sew anything, Ever. Yes, Oh Yes!!! Until Heaven, I will have to employ my excellent avoidance tactics. I'm pathetic. I know this. However, I don't often have to stitch worn out things. Happy Father's Day to me too.
Rusty's story also is in the category of the unexplainable. I was present but unable to crossover into the realm of what was happening but what I was able to see still resonates in my memory .
After leaving critical care I became a Hospice nurse and remained so until May of 2014. Surprisingly I enjoyed this type of nursing. Certainly not because of the diagnosis that connected me to the people but because of other factors.
I had time to sit and really listen and "hear" a patient and their family should they chose to share. I was able, in a lot of instances, to help them live as much as they could while they were dying. I also could, with proper med management, alleviate most if not all of their pain and for the most part their anxieties. But the real nitty gritty stuff was the spiritual component.
Hospice provides chaplain services to all that choose to avail themselves. And sometimes they just talked to their nurse. Spiritual pain cannot be remedied by medicine. Sure I could zonk someone so that they felt nothing but this is not within the scope of nursing practice of Hospice nor would I want that decision on my shoulders.
Anyway-Rusty was mid-30's, had a lovely family and was dying of cancer. They lived in Emmitsburg MD. If you are not familiar with that town it is the "Catholic Capital" of MD as it is the site of Our Lady of Lourdes Shrine, has a Catholic College and a Catholic retirement center and nursing home.
I had ask Rusty if he would like chaplaincy services and he declined. Quite politely and charmingly nice. He was straightforward in just saying "I've never been into religion-I'm ok "
Several weeks passed and the call came "Please come-Rusty's dying." I arrived and assessed him and the wife was right. He was in and out of consciousness and dying. Just then a van pulled up and 4 nuns emerged. I walked to the door and introduced myself and they asked could they pray for Rusty.
I asked the Mrs and she looked to Rusty and whether cognizant or not he nodded his head affirmative.
They prayed a simple prayer "Our Father...who are in heaven ...Hallowed be thy name...and when they finished, Rusty turned towards the wall-leaving us behind as it were, and began to weep profusely but not in an anguished sort of way but in an embracing sort of way saying" I didn't know--Oh God...I really didn't know....I am so sorry " and he died.
As sure as I sit here I know Rusty was communing with Our Father...who art in heaven... and it was a mutual embrace.
In this life people don't always get along with each other, it's human nature. Personalities conflict, or circumstances arise that put a wedge between people that were otherwise close in a relationship with each other. It is sad when this happens.
My thought is, if those that don't get along together here, are both "Christians", and will be in heaven together for all eternity, shouldn't they try to get along together here? I simply think this whole earthly existence is a series of tests and trials. Making us into the image of Christ, or, more like Satan. I could be wrong. However, it just makes sense if you are going to be stuck with someone forever in Heaven, which is a place of joy, rather then tears. Either one of the people are not in fact going to be in heaven, and their memory will forever be gone from the one in heaven, and the person in Hell, will have nothing but their memories, because Hell is a torturous place. Or, they will both be slapped with an "OH, I got it, I'm sorry, I'm an idiot", type thing by God, then hug in Heaven. I kinda think it's the former, rather then the latter. I could be wrong. However Jesus said, if you don't forgive your brother that has wronged you, then my Father in Heaven won't forgive you. That pretty much tells ya, your going to Hell instead, right?
I guess my next question is. So why not get over it here? The most simple things, can be very complex, in this world. That's when we need God to step in. I don't know about you, but I can't forgive on my own. He takes over and does what we can't. I'm so glad I'm God's kid. If I weren't, I'd be in a total mess.
My house is quiet and still at this moment. What do I do with that? To me, quiet is usually boring. However, there are times I long for it, like when I am trying to get something at work accomplished that requires my full attention, but my bosses wife has a need to fill the room with constant chatter, and the phone rings constantly. Heaven help me at those times. Other times I long for stillness because I am watching a movie and Sarah has a need to comment with hand gestures VERY LOUDLY, on almost everything. We rent or stream movies, so that we may back them up, and actually know what is going after said comments.
This week, Sarah is at aunt Lynn & Grandma's home, enjoying time with cousins. I miss her but not so much that I don't enjoy eating, watching and doing what I want without having to compromise because, what I want is so lame to Sarah. I am having a fresh pare and green tea with cinnamon and coconut oil in it. Not farm fresh eggs with nitrite free bacon or fresh ground pork and coffee. I have ruined my child into liking coffee. She just reached over and grabbed my cup of coffee one morning, and took a big sip, then said, "I have to wake up some how mom!"
Since Paul can't work because of his copious injuries, he watches TV till late then sleeps late. I would be useless at work, if I did that. However, today is my day off and I am enjoying quiet stillness, this morning. This brings to mind a verse that God imprinted upon my mind and He brings it to the forefront at times. "Be still, and know that I am God". As if to say, "Stop, be quiet, and don't do anything, God is in charge." At times it's tough to do that because we want to fix or do things ourselves, but we usually mess them up if we do them in our power and our own way. These are the times that quiet stillness, is necessary to put things into perspective. So, when we do have quiet stillness, just enjoy because it won't last forever.
As time ticked away, I had to stop and get myself ready for work. I fully expected to finish up when I got home that evening. Instead the unthinkable happened. The phone call from my shaken husband came from across town complete with its own soundtrack of screaming sirens and crying children. That call embedded itself forever into my memory. I can quote it word for word. I still have nightmares about it.
In short... our house burned down that night. We were instantly homeless. Safe, but devastated.
There is so much that I could write about the details that have transpired over the past 3 and a half months, but that could fill a book. There have been moments of despair and moments of peace. Waves of overwhelming terror and overwhelming provision. Tears of sorrow and tears of relief. Questions of "why" yet believing that God still has His hand on us. Longing for home, but not ever wanting to go back. Craving the familiar, but still feeling unsettled. Tonight, for the first time in months I find myself in a comfortable place....sitting right here at this desk... writing
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