Memory Lane

It's been about a year since my family moved in with Mom. I think we have all been thinking about her. Karis said something that was very Grandma. Nate said he was hungry for one of Grandma's hamburgers. (No one makes them like she did, but Karis comes closest.) Meg noticed Grandma's beautiful pink camelia blooming. Ev wore Grandma's shirt to class.

I went back in my blog last night to find the entry for the day we moved in. I found it, and then read through the rest of January. And February. And March, April, May, June. I think I gave it up somewhere in July.

Oh my. The sweetness and sorrow.
The regrets.
I wish I had been kinder and gentler.
I wish I had started slipping Mom medication sooner. She suffered so and was unable/unwilling to ask for help.
I wish I had gone for a walk every day.
But mostly, I wish my parents weren't gone.

Happy Birthday, Mama

Today is Mom's birthday.
A year ago, her five children gathered to celebrate Mom's 91st year.

This year, I like to think my Grandma Minna whipped up one of her famous towering cakes in honor of her girl's 92nd. Maybe they even hopped in the car for a road trip to celebrate.
Happy Birthday, Ma.
I love you and miss you.

Shadows

Santa brought me David Crowder Band's Church Music in my stocking this year. (Thank you, Santa!) I love this song called Shadows.

Life is full of light and shadows.
Oh, the joy and oh, the sorrow.
Oh, the sorrow.
And yet will He bring day from night.
And yet will He bring dark to light.
When shadows fall on us,
We will not fear.
We will remember.
When darkness falls on us,
We will not fear.
We will remember.
When all seems lost,
When we're thrown and we're tossed,
We'll remember the cost.
We're resting in the shadow of the cross.

Good

I've been thinking about 2013.
I am not sorry to see 2012 go.
2012 was hard.
It was sad.
I long for better days. For happiness, health, and sparkle.

But the more I think about it, the more I realize that even though I can say goodbye to 2012 and know I won't go through that again, there is no guarantee for sunshine and light in 2013. I can long for better days, but the only sure thing I have is God's promise to work all things together for GOOD for those who love Him, who are called according to His purpose. Well, that's me. I love Him. I'm called according to His purpose. So as we begin the new year, instead of fixing my hope on an easier life (which I still would really, really like), I'm going to look for the GOOD in each day.

I think that is my word for 2013: GOOD.

As in, Be the GOOD you want to see in the world.
And, Surely GOODness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life.
And, Be GOOD to yourself.
And, Overcoming evil with GOOD.
And, Is this GOOD for me?
And, He isn't safe, but He is GOOD.

A friend posted this prayer from The Valley of Vision: A Collection of Puritan Prayers & Devotions on her blog. She gave me permission to share it here. Thank you, Nikki! I think it is a powerful benediction to 2012 and blessing on 2013. God is GOOD.

O LOVE BEYOND COMPARE,

Thou art good when thou givest,
when thou takest away,
when the sun shines upon me,
when night gathers over me.

Thou hast loved me before
the foundation of the world,
and in love didst redeem my soul;
Thou dost love me still,
in spite of my hard heart, ingratitude, distrust.

Thy goodness has been with me
during another year,
leading me through a twisting wilderness,
in retreat helping me to advance,
when beaten back making sure headway.

Thy goodness will be with me in the year ahead;
I hoist sail and draw up anchor,
with thee as the blessed Pilot of my future
as of my past.

I bless thee that thou hast veiled my eyes
to the waters ahead.
If thou hast appointed storms of tribulation,
thou wilt be with me in them;
If I have to pass through tempests of persecution
and temptation,
I shall not drown;
If I am to die,
I shall see thy face the sooner;
If a painful end is to be my lot,
grant me grace that my faith fail not;
If I am to be cast aside from the service I love,
I can make no stipulation;
Only glorify thyself in me whether in comfort or trial,
as a chosen vessel meet always for thy use.

Sparkle

At some point this fall, I realized that every article of clothing I've purchased since Mom's passing has had one common characteristic.

Sparkle.

I didn't do it on purpose, but everything has a little bit of bling. Normally, I'm not a blingy girl. Usually, I gravitate toward fall colors and solids with nice textures. (So much so that I did not know you cannot make it through airport security with sparkles on your shirt. Who knew?)

I guess somewhere in my sub-conscious, I had a need to shine. And after all, I think a little sparkle is a nice antidote to the last year.

Not Forgotten Flowers

Being a Kansas girl forever and always in her heart, Mom loved sunflowers. These are two beautiful arrangements that were sent from family and friends for her service. I know this post is oddly out of place, but I've had it sitting unfinished in drafts for quite a while and didn't want to forget the happiness-in-a-vase that was sent our way.

“Let us be grateful to the people who make us happy; they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.”
― Marcel Proust

Welcome, Christmas

Years ago, my sister wisely told me that life sort of moves in group stages. There is a time period where all your friends are getting married. There is a period where all your friends are having babies. There is a time where all your friends are sending kids to college. And so on. Actually, at the time, she and her husband were at an older urban church in Chicago, and she was explaining to me that most of their parishoners were at the time where all their friends were dying. And now it seems I find myself in the time period where all my friends' parents are dying.

Of course, that is a generalization, and not necessarily true across the board. Some of my friends' parents passed away years ago, shocking us into the awareness of our own parents' mortality. Some of my friends posted Christmas pictures of their kids with their parents this year, looking hale and hearty. But many of us are missing our folks this year. In early December, I attended a funeral for a dear old friend's mom. It was a lovely service, and included a reading of this poem:

I see the countless Christmas trees around the world below
With tiny lights like heaven's stars reflecting on the snow.

The sight is so spectacular please wipe away that tear
For I am spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this year.

I hear the many Christmas songs that people hold so dear
But the sounds of music can't compare with the Christmas choir up here.

I have no words to tell you of the joy their voices bring
For it is beyond description to hear the angels sing.

I know how much you miss me, I see the pain inside your heart
For I am spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this year.

I can't tell you of the splendor or the peace here in this place
Can you just imagine Christmas with our Savior face to face?

I'll ask him to lift your spirit as I tell you of your love
So, then pray for one another as you lift your eyes above.

Please let your hearts be joyful and let your spirit sing
For I am spending Christmas in heaven and I'm walking with the King.

The words of the poem were very meaningful to me, and allowed me to really, truly look forward to Christmas with excitement like I haven't had in years. But probably not the way you think.

My parents were never especially celebratory. They were not big on gift-giving. No one would ever accuse Bill and Ann of being festive. Mom and Dad were strong, salt-of-the-earth folks; they just were never very merry and bright. Perhaps this book that my sister and I found when going through Mom's things explains it best:

Following Mom's tradition, we set out Great Aunt Ora's hand-painted nativity, dutifully placing the wise men afar, so as to remain biblically accurate. But when Ev and Nate hung our old school colorful Christmas lights this year, it was the first time this house has ever worn Christmas lights. And when Dave drilled holes for cuphooks under the mantel, it was the first time a row of stockings had a home there. We moved Mom's little tree with its single strand of white lights to the dining room bay window, in order to make room for our big tree, covered with a mosaic of ornaments and colored lights. We plugged in our little illuminated snowman, holding his sign, "Welcome, Christmas."

And welcome Christmas we did. It was a joyful time all month long with family and friends. It was filled with generosity and surprises, big and small. It was wrapped in the truth that God is with us.
God is with us.

For me, Christmas this year was free from the confusion of how to celebrate with my parents. No more wondering if they push us away because they truly want to be alone, or if they think they are freeing us up. No more trying to get things just right, not too much and not too little. No more guessing. No more wishing.

Because this year, I know Mom and Dad had the best Christmas ever. They celebrated like crazy, decorated over-the-top, hosted parties with tons of food, gave brightly-wrapped gifts to everyone, laughed and sang, and filled each other's stockings on Christmas Eve. Why?
Because they are with God.
Of course they are merry and bright this year.
They are with God.
How could they be anything less?