A Song for Grandma

My best friends skipped class, drove two hours, and surprised me when I needed them most.

It’s funny, the things you remember. I can see grandma swiping the mixing bowl and licking her finger to try her waffle batter. I can hear her laughing at the kitchen table telling stories about grandpa and his brothers. I can smell her hugs as I knelt down in front of her chair to lay my head on her shoulder. I remember the soft feel of her nails when I held her hand They were so soft, I would always ask to paint them and she wouldn’t let me. I remember her quiet, happiness as I opened her gifts. Grandma made every present she gave. She said she has never had money to buy gifts, so she hoped everyone would like what she could make. I will treasure them always. Last year when I sent a letter to gather financial support to serve in Guatemala, I cried when I saw Grandma gave like the widow in the gospel of Luke. Her life taught me so much: To give out of scarcity, not abundance. To love God first, my husband and family second. To be content, not in want.
To be so confident in my God that I am unafraid of death.

There are a few things I am sure about. I am sad, my grandma was an amazing woman and I will miss her presence in my life everyday.

She lived a happy life full of joy.

And she is now with Jesus.

"Ruby would want you to remember..." 

A beautiful day for the most beautiful woman I have ever known.

 John 16:33 These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.

Grandma is home.

The last time I came home to see Grandma she had had an awful week.  Saturday morning when I came in to get her up she was coherent and bright eyed.  I woke Michael up with tears streaming down my face and said my grandma is here.

It was like God had flipped a switch. 

Later that day she said, “I keep thinking the Lord is going to take me, but I guess He has something else for me to do.” 

He used her until the end.

I had come to the conclusion I wanted to be there when she went home.  Michael had once told me that her death was not about me. A very thought provoking statement, and he was right. I wanted to witness the greatest moment of her life, when she would leave us and meet Jesus. 

Yesterday, we thought it would be in the next few days, but decided it wouldn’t be that night. 

But when mom called me at 6:15 this morning, I knew. 

Ten minutes earlier she had taken her last breath. She didn’t gasp for air like we had feared. She simply stopped breathing. Her heart stopped beating. The vessel that held my grandma had failed; as it will fail us all. 

I felt anxious that I had not been there. But I remembered how God had changed her condition when I came home to her last, I reflected on how He took her the morning of when I was to return home again. He didn’t want me to see. 

Praise God and His perfect provision.

As difficult as it is to imagine my life without her presence; celebrating my birthday without her card reading “Love you bigger”, graduating physical therapy school without her proudly watching, and building a family that will not know her, I know that this life is temporary. 

Knowing these truths doesn’t take away the pain. I know that my heart will ache for her absence; as it does so painfully now to see her empty chair, to hear the silence in place of the oxygen concentrator, a hum that had become reassuring. 

While my heart aches, my mouth will sing praises for her new life in heaven.

I will be quite honest though. I do not believe she will be watching over me. Maybe that brings some people comfort, but not me. God has prepared her a place in eternal glory with Him; a place that is beyond all our imagination. She will have no concerns or cares in the presence of our God, let alone concerns of this world. Our God is too big and too gracious and too loving to take us home to Him and leave us looking down on the world we left. She is completely satisfied.

And because heaven is a place that does not know time, I am already there with her. 

That last Saturday I sat at Grandma’s feet and, as I had countless times in my life, I asked her to tell me a story. Grandma had been mostly coherent, but some things weren’t making sense. When she started the story, I thought she thought this just happened. I was wrong.

This is the story she told me:

“The last thing I remember is the Newtown shooting. Twenty kids and six teachers died in the Newtown shooting. Twenty kids. They died. I can see a field of daffodils; a field full of them, blowing in the breeze. I can see the twenty children from the Newtown shooting playing in the field of daffodils. Jesus comes walking through the field and all the children run to sit at his feet. They listen as He tells them stories. Then the children start playing again and Jesus stands there and watches over them. 

I know that was a year ago, but I can see it as plain as day.”

Today, my grandma is in a field of daffodils with the two greatest loves of her life. 

 Praise God.

Lifestyles of the poor and married - take 2

As mentioned in Lifestyles of the poor and married - take 1, we are momentarily poor in hopes of not being homeless. We are also freezing.  In case you haven't heard, because you are living under a snow covered rock, the weather sucks.

I'm trying to look on the bright side. 

You can't eat snow when it is warm.

You can't make snow ice cream when it is warm.

Okay, I can't think of anything else. Apparently, the only good things about snow have to do with consuming it.

Oh! You can't sled on grass! 

However, you can slide down a hill on a water slide and not freeze your butt off. That sounds nice.

I wanted to take advantage of the snow and get out of the house. We don't have sleds. Nor do we have $30 to spend on one.

So, we grabbed a rubbermaid container lid and large piece of cardboard and Boone's leash and hit the park!

There were kids on the good hill, but they had real sleds. That was slightly embarrassing.

Let's be real, I wasn't moving.

Turns out snow boarding (or shall we say snow boxing?!) is much easier than sledding.

 At least when you don't have a sled.

But sometimes this happens... and you laugh really hard at your spouse.

Besides the numb hands and butt, great date! 

I was going to finish up this post with a cute picture of hot chocolate spiked with peppermint schnapps.

But there was NOTHING cute about it.

Words to the wise: don't run 5 miles and play in the snow without drinking water and think you can enjoy a social drink.

It doesn't end well. 

"Druggies" are people too

Multiple times in the past few weeks I have wanted to shout this.

Yes, drug addiction hits close to home. But that isn't it.

In the wake of Philip Seymour Hoffman's death I have been discouraged in the world's viewpoint of people who are addicted to drugs.

The belief that he or any addict made the decision to do drugs knowing the risk and therefore deserved death as a consequence is callous. We choose things everyday that could and do lead to our own death; eating McDonald's, or too many desserts, or not exercising, or not wearing seat belts, or driving too fast. I know it is a stretch to equate those things to drug use, but they all start with a choice and I think it demonstrates the equality of sin. For judgement is really no different than addiction. Maybe in their effects, but not to Christ.

James 2:10
10 For whoever keeps the whole law and yet stumbles in one point, he has become guilty of all.

We all deserve death. Not just drug addicts. 

It seems a drug addiction dehumanizes them. They are no longer people formed by God the creator and in His image, they are "druggies," and "a drain on society," deserving of the consequences of their actions.

But they are people.

They are fathers and mothers.

They are sons and daughters.

They are brothers.

Drugs change people. One fateful decision can lead down a path far from anything the user thought possible. My big brothers are an example of this, read their story: here. Not always do drug addicts end up speaking at high schools (read about this: here). My brother's are the exception, not the rule. However, they could just as easily ended up like Philip Seymour Hoffman. Our family would have been heart broken, if you had the pleasure of knowing my brothers you would have been heartbroken because they are amazing PEOPLE. Amazing, talented people created by God. And we knew who they were apart from their addiction.

We are not called to love people only when they are deserving or when we know their hearts, we are called to love them regardless. Regardless of their sin, regardless of their place in society and regardless of whether or not they are our brothers.

Matthew 5:44-47
 44"But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, 45 so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven; for He causes His sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.

 46"For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? 47"If you greet only your brothers, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same?

Unlike Philip Seymour Hoffman's death, their death would not have reached the masses. However, we want their story to. Although my brothers' tale and Hoffman's ended differently, there is importance in spreading both. Hoffman's is a cautionary tale. Drugs do not discriminate based on talent or celebrity, they can take a life just the same. His life provides an example for youth and adults alike of the devastation drugs can bring. Both stories had consequences and deliverance, although God used them differently, I guarantee you God used them both.

God is sovereign. Their addiction is not an accident. Their struggles, their recovery or death is planned by God.

Who are we to question this? To belittle them? To scoff in the face of their death?

I share these thoughts in love, that we might love others more fully, the way the Lord intended.

Let us be an example to youth and those without a reference or understanding of drug addiction, to reach out to those struggling in a dark, lonely place we cannot imagine. To love those that seem so unlovely.

Then we will also be an example of Christ, for that is how He first loved us. 

"Its a calling to see worth, value and dignity in every human, no matter how sinful or distorted or far from God (even if that person is you). To devalue any human being is to deny their intrinsic worth as a fellow image-bearer of the creator."

I hate decisions

I have buyer's anxiety about having buyer's remorse.

I don't like making decisions because I worry that I will regret the decision I make.

We go out to dinner and it takes forever for me to decide on a meal. I know I'll like seafood alfredo, but the lobster ravioli looks really good. But maybe it won't be as good as what I know is already good and I'll be sad and will have wasted our money on an icky lobster ravioli.

My poor husband.

It also causes me to save money, you'd think that would be a good thing, right?

Turns out it can be just as frustrating. I get money as a Christmas gift and it will probably last me until next Christmas. I will keep putting off what I want instead of getting it because what if I find something I want more at a later date but I have no Christmas money left to spend!?

Or more recently applicable, what if we spend our eating out money early in the month and some Tuesday night the last thing I want to do is cook dinner but we spent the eating out money on a random Sunday afternoon when we had leftovers in the fridge?!?! Oh the horror!

Last week my grandma really went downhill fast. Her oxygen saturation was in the 70's. She was confused and uncomfortable and incoherent. My big brothers had to go over multiple times to transfer her because mom couldn't. Transfers are in my area of expertise, so it was especially hard for me to not be able to help.

My flight for the American Physical Therapy Association Combined Sections Meeting in Las Vegas was scheduled for Monday. On Thursday, Rachel and I are supposed to present a poster on our research on toe walking and autism. A poster that's been a year in the making! I spent the week wondering what to do, to go or not to go. I thought going home over the weekend would make my decision for me. Her condition would make it obvious that I had no business being in Las Vegas. When I transferred her to bed Friday night she needed maximal assistance.

Saturday morning I came in to get her up and her eyes were open wide and bright. She spoke as clear as day and said good morning. She stood with minimal assistance and walked 5 feet to her chair. Who was this woman?

She came to the table for every meal and ate well. When she couldn't have anymore pain medicine but grimaced still, we prayed. She didn't mention the pain again.

Sunday was a good day too.

We are so very thankful for these good days. Ones we didn't expect to see.

But what was I supposed to do now?

I could go to Las Vegas. Would I be worried the whole time? Would she go downhill again? Would I wish I could be home and praying with her? Would she meet Jesus while I was gone? Would Mom need me and I couldn't be there?

I could stay with her. Would everything be okay this week and I would be sad I didn't go?

I HATE DECISIONS because I am scared to make the wrong one.

I went for a run to pray. (The first mile I just kept thinking how cold I was and forgot to pray.) I hoped at the end of the run I would feel peace, knowing whatever my heart desired was inspired by God.
The first question that popped in my head during my prayer was,

 "What would glorify God more?"

...

So, here I am. Not in Vegas.

I could have glorified God there. Presenting a poster I worked hard on, giving Him glory for my work and the blessing of the trip.

But every time someone told me to go I couldn't imagine leaving.
I don't know why. I have to trust that God gave me the desire to stay here for a reason.

Maybe this week isn't Grandma's time. Maybe that isn't why He wanted me here.
I must say it makes me sad to think I could be staying at the Venetian with one of my best friends, experiencing a fun city, and enjoying the rewards of our hard work. It makes me feel that buyer's remorse. Then I feel guilty for wishing I was elsewhere.

Maybe the real reward was the opportunity to spend this week with my Grandma. Praying when the pain gets bad, and sticking my tongue out at her while the nurse talks to make her smile.

He knows something I don't, and I have to trust that.