What to Do When You Don't Know What to Do

From an early age, I had two major goals in life. I worked on those goals during the majority of my adult years, investing time, money, and a lot of effort in the hopes of achieving them. Despite all that effort, neither goal came to pass. To say I was--and still am--disappointed is an understatement.

I'm a Type A person who loves to be busy and to produce. At a time I expected to find myself working hard on the other side of my met goals, I instead found myself with very little to do. Getting forced to stay inside a house in a rural region during a pandemic didn't help. So I did what I could do. I started a large crochet project. I learned how to make and can strawberry and peach jam (I tried blueberry, but it kept coming out more like candy than jam.)

Though I don't play the piano, I memorized a couple of songs that could be useful in church, since we lost our high-risk pianist to concerns over COVID. I made a few masks for people at church. I cut out pieces for a purse that I've yet to put together because sewing construction is hard. I started a new crochet project after completing the previous one and read until my wonky vision made both impossible to do (one cataract surgery down, one to go, so please pardon any typos I made.)

I watched TV, started listening to podcasts, took bike rides and walks. My husband bought a big garden box for me and I planted vegetables in it. Now, I've turned my attention to learning how to make small quilts. I do anything I can to produce, because I can't stand feeling useless.

Some may call that being busy. While it is, it's busy work, filler, with some ministerial applications, since I did some of it for others. None of it is what I feel I was meant or called to do.

God places His people on this earth for a purpose--to minister to the Body of Christ around the world, to do good works that will glorify His name, to teach others about Him and more. What my purpose is, I don't know yet. Maybe the busy work is it. Perhaps, like a quilt or that purse I've yet to pin together to sew, I'm gathering all the pieces and tools I'll need for whatever it is I'm supposed to do. In the meantime, I'll keep learning and doing stuff.

What We Plant

I'm still moving posts over from my author blog. Considering the events of the past two weeks with the death of my father-in-law and traveling across country for the funeral, this is even more poignant for me right now. Life is precious. Don't take it for granted.

What We Plant

There were four of us. I don’t remember when and where we met. Memory recalls only that at some point in our freshman year of college, we formed a group. We hung around often during the week and especially on weekends. We often studied together and met in the cafeteria for meals. We even took a hayride together, camped out for concert tickets, and went to Disney World during spring break, sharing a little motel room I wouldn’t consider staying in now. And of course, we did the girl thing: coloring our hair and crying over guys who broke our heart. They saw the worst in me during a difficult time in my life, but they accepted me despite that. We were friends.

The following year, I moved. We kept in contact for a while, but something–time, distance, my radical conversion to Christianity, perhaps all–came between us, and we lost touch with one another.

If you’ve read my North of Broad, that friendship might sound familiar. While the characters in the novella are far more affluent, mature, and–ahem–quieter than their real-life counterparts, the four of we were, nonetheless, the model for that fictional band of friends.

A few weeks ago, I decided to look them up. Why after all this time, I don’t know. They had certainly come to mind several times over the years, especially when I shared our antics with my husband. I wasn’t able to find two, but one–the model for Brooke in North of Broad–came up in a search after I remembered how to spell her German last name. My joy was short lived. She'd passed away three years ago. I was shocked to see that still-too-young face and bright smile on an obituary page.

I found out about my friend the same day I learned about the death of an acquaintance. The thirty-nine year old man died suddenly of a heart attack, leaving behind a wife already accustomed to grief and two young children.

The reality of life is that we don’t know when we or a loved one will draw our last breath. Despite all the temptations the world has to offer us on a daily basis, we need to hold fast to the faith given to us and share that faith as it’s presented in the Scriptures. I was once told my novels were too Christian. My response was, yea, I finally did something that may please God. With society as troubled as it is today, I humbly pray that my “too Christian” work will plant a seed in a reader and direct them to the living waters contained in the Word of God. Since my friend’s funeral was held at a church when I had never known her to step foot in one, who knows if God used the witness of my radical conversion to Christianity to plant the seed of the gospel in her.

If we’re not planting seeds of faith in people’s lives, what seeds are we planting?

Precious in the Sight of the Lord

I've worked at a particular church for just over four years. During that time, the church has had just one pastor--my boss. There were three of us in the office, and not once during those four years did we have a dispute of any kind. There was no contention, no egos, no posturing. My boss was aware that I'm a Reformed Presbyterian working in a Methodist church, but our theological differences didn't cause division. Instead, it prompted several good discussions. Perhaps it helped that we pegged one another as sci-fi geeks early on. I could make Star Trek, Star Wars or similar references and get a laugh instead of a look that suggested I was too old for such things. It's been a fantastic work environment.

A little over a year ago, my boss was diagnosed with LGL leukemia. It came as a surprise, but he didn't allow it to become his primary focus. He seemed more annoyed that it interfered with his pastoral duties on occasion. He wanted to keep everything as normal as possible. I honored that wish by maintaining normalcy on my end in the office, with the exception of occasionally pestering him with questions about a bone marrow transplant.

For most of 2019, doctors treated his condition with medications. When it became apparent neither drug would work, a second bone marrow biopsy was performed. Aplastic anemia was added to his condition. It was time for chemo.

During those first two (awful for so many) weeks in January, my boss was in the hospital—the first week receiving bags of chemo, the second week recovering. He might have been out of the office, but he was never gone. Even as poison dripped into his veins, as he put it, he was sending me emails and giving direction for several tasks, including funeral preparations for a member who suddenly passed away, which I had to help coordinate. I was totally out of my element and appreciated his input.

After chemo, he had to isolate for two months, emerging from his medical hibernation just as the coronavirus pandemic began. He was determined to get back to his duties, though, and did so even as he socially distanced and quarantined. During these months, we watched him grow deeper in his faith and closer to the Lord. That growth was evident in his sermons and in the articles he wrote for the newsletter.

But the chemo didn’t work and there was finally talk of a bone marrow transplant. Still, he worked, and he wanted to work until he had to take leave. We called him the most active, healthiest-looking sick person we knew.

Until last week when his condition suddenly deteriorated. He stayed home this past Monday and Tuesday. When he didn’t show up for work yesterday and we didn’t hear from him, the director of music went to check on him. Sometime the previous evening, our boss had sat in his favorite chair to rest and slipped into the presence of the Lord.

The perishable left behind.

We were a mess yesterday as we dealt with the shock of his passing. Some people came to the church just to be there and to cry with others. People are asking questions. Someone wanted to know why the Lord took him. They can't view it like that.

Death and the evil of this world tried to make my boss and so many others like him suffer and to destroy him. That's a result of the Fall and the subsequent fallen world. But having saved my boss and made him a member of the Body of Christ, God plucked him up before he could be destroyed. As Paul wrote in his first letter to the Corinthians:

For the perishable must clothe itself with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality. When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: “Death has been swallowed up in victory.” “Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?”

Death and evil failed to destroy my boss. Not only did he grow closer to the Lord and deeper in his faith during his ordeal, but in a victorious act over death, God rescued him. The staff and the congregation at this church will miss him, but we know he's worshipping his Lord and King, his Savior.

Precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of his saints.

Thirty Days

Thirty Days. The stereotypical sentence for infractions committed by wrongdoers on various television shows. It was also the amount of time our governor decided citizens of our state needed to stay at home to "flatten the curve" of the pandemic lest patients overwhelm the medical system.

Quarantine is a very biblical concept, though God quarantined affected individuals, not the entire nation of Israel. Consequently, I didn't agree with the governor quarantining the entire state for a month. Nonetheless, we complied, leaving the house only to go to work, to buy essentials, and for badly needed long drives. The rest of the time, we kept ourselves busy. I...

• Made a few masks for people, stopping when supplies ran out. 
• Crocheted twenty-one 20 x 20 diamond-motif squares for afghans.
• Continued my French studies. Mais, je ne parle pas français. 
• Learned to play the Gloria Patri on the piano (memorizing treble staff notes only because I don't play the piano) so I can play when our morning services resume until we find a pianist.

That’s how bored and restless I was.

My husband is a pastor, so he continued his studies and holding drive-in services on Sunday morning, and streaming Sunday and Wednesday evening lessons via Facebook Live. He also challenged himself to do 100 pushups a day within a few minutes time. He met that challenge and more by working up to 140 a day.

After socially distancing ourselves for a few weeks in March and gaining a little weight from it, we both decided to go on a reduced calorie/portion control diet during our thirty days incarceration in our mortgaged slammer. My husband the pushup king lost ten pounds. I lost six.

Last week, the governor decided we needed to stay indoors for another week, which will do absolutely nothing. People are rebelling, of course, but we're staying in--for now. When we do venture out, we’ll wear masks and take precautions as we have been doing, and as I hope everyone will do so this thing will. just. end. already. 

I don't have the materials to make more masks, but during this eight-day extension of our sentence, I'll finish the afghans, continue my French, and read books I downloaded. And, of course, continue the diet. I have another ten pounds to go. 

And when this cruel quarantine is over, we'll take a trip to enjoy the beauty of the world that we missed during our thirty (soon to be thirty-eight) day sentence.

It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World

"It's been a tough year this week."

That was just one of several amusing memes that showed up in my Facebook feed last week. What was the funniest?

Credit Unknown.

Fear and panic over just the idea of the newest form of the coronavirus, named COVID-19, have shut down countries and sent Americans into a panic. Are you familiar with the old movie, "It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World?" According to the description on IMDB, it's about, "a group of motorists (who) hear about a crook's hidden stash of loot, and race against each other across the country to get to it."

Over the past few weeks, it's been a mad, mad, mad crazy mad world, but instead of hidden loot, Americans have been racing from one store to the next to stock up on hand sanitizer and toilet paper.

Yes, that’s right. Toilet paper. For a respiratory illness.

I think the driving force behind that odd choice was the fear that we'll be told to quarantine at home as residents in Italy were forced to do, but that was never said outright. And yet, panicky people flooded stores, emptying shelves of paper products and soap (seems few were washing their hands up to this point, and everyone felt they oughtta start.) It didn't help that after the first wave of hoarders did their damage, schools closed, colleges switched to online classes, airlines were asked to curtail their flights and Americans were urged to "socially distance" ourselves from one another and to cancel all gatherings of over 100 attendees, then 50 attendees, and then 10 attendees--all within a week's time. Woo doggie, that sent everybody back to the stores. This time, they grabbed cereal, sugar, chicken, potatoes, rice--lots of rice--beans, and milk. Oddly, the coffee and canned goods sections were still full at our stores, as was the wine section. It's been a form of chaos that would even befuddle the likes of Ian Malcolm.

Seriously, we didn't see this level of fear and reaction during the Ebola crisis a few years back, and Ebola turns ones insides to liquid and makes them bleed from the eyes.

We keep hearing talk of "flattening the curve." While I can appreciate the desire to stop the further spread of this virus, I would have preferred that we take the same measures we did during the aforementioned Ebola threat and the 2009 H1N1 crisis, which I didn’t even know was a pandemic until now. Ebola was stopped in its tracks. The numbers for the flu pandemic? According to the CDC:

(The) final estimates were that from April 12, 2009 to April 10, 2010 approximately 60.8 million cases (range: 43.3-89.3 million), 274,304 hospitalizations (195,086-402,719), and 12,469 deaths (8868-18,306) occurred in the United States due to pH1N1.

Granted, that’s far too many, just as the 20,000 plus flu deaths so far this season are too many. What precautions were taken for both influenza events? Not many beyond being told to get a flu shot. More measures should have been taken, but society didn’t shut down. Countries and churches didn’t close. The stock market didn’t tank. People didn’t flip out and stock up on toilet paper as if it were a crook’s hidden treasure.

So why now and not then? Many of us are asking that question. We don’t understand the events that, in a short amount of time, turned this into a mad, mad, mad, mad world.

Christian, I’m not worried. You shouldn’t be either. Instead, be a light in the darkness during this time. With your faith anchored in Christ, check on the elderly, encourage others, be humorous, stay home if you’re sick or have been exposed to any illness, and show the world the salvation and peace of Christ.

Year in Review: 2019 Goals

Like so many others, I'm astonished that the bullet train that was 2019 sped by as quickly as it did. On January 1st, it was my intention to slow down and enjoy each day. Time didn't slow as I'd hoped it would, but we made a lot of memories, most of which were good, one scary, and another sad. I'd hoped to add everything here, but doing so made the post ridiculously long, so I'll start with a review of my 2019 goals.

GOALS:

At the beginning of the year, I posted my 2019 goals: study the French language, be more diligent about practicing my flute, and "clean as I go," meaning declutter and keep things decluttered on a daily bases.

My French studies are going well. Je peux parler le francais maintenant? A bit, but I'm far from fluent. According to my Duolingo stats, as of last Monday (December 16th):

• I've learned 13,073 words, a good portion of which I actually remember
• I've completed 3,735 lessons
• I spent 249 hours on the app studying French (that's both good and sad.)

I plan to continue my studies throughout 2020, D.V. though perhaps not as intensely. At the beginning of 2021, I'll start on Spanish.

My decluttering efforts were also a success. We still have a few small piles of paper on our counter, but our house feels roomier and somehow lighter and airier. My musical goals suffered, though. After a month of practicing the flute, I gradually stopped. I need to improve on that front.

In my next post: There and Back Again--A Year of Travel, Some Unexpected

The Administrative Side of Death - The Paperwork

Earlier this year, a friend of ours served as executor for an estate. From what I've heard, this is a herculean effort that requires a lot of time and patience, especially if the estate has to go into probate.

The roll of executor is to carry out the terms of the will and to settle the estate. The process can be difficult, or it can be less than difficult depending on the size of the estate and the amount of preparation the testator (the person who wrote the will) puts into it.

In our friend's case, the burden was made easier because the person for whom he served as executor had prepared for the administrative side of death. Not just in stating his wishes for his funeral and in writing his will. He made a list of all of his financial accounts and titles, and had placed the paperwork together with his will. Having all the paperwork in hand helped our friend settle the estate and close out accounts faster, easier, and more accurately than he could have had he been forced to search for the information.

How about you? If something were to happen, do you have a will in a safe, secure place, and can your executor or family find it? Is your insurance, bank, retirement, property, vehicle, debt, etc. paperwork in place with your final will? Will your family/executor even know what accounts you have that must be settled?

What about your social media accounts? If something should happen to you, can a loved one get into your accounts to close them?

This is on my mind because this past year alone, we've known of several people who died unexpectedly. My husband officiated at a few of those funerals. We've spoken to our daughter, who will serve as executor of our estate, but we have yet to gather all the paperwork she'll need to carry out our wishes. It will be a tedious task, for sure, but writing down our wishes for our funeral (even if we don't expect that to happen for another thirty years, D.V.) and preparing all the paperwork ahead of time, updating as needed, will make life easier for our children.

The Administrative Side of Death - The Funeral Home

Death is hardly an interesting topic, but it's a part of life that we all have to face at some point. Either with a friend, a family member, or with ourselves. At times, it happens earlier than we anticipated.

Because my husband has been in the ministry for seventeen years, we deal with death on a regular basis. In the twelve years we've been at our current church, he has officiated at so many funerals for people in our congregation and members of their families, he's lost count of the number of times he's stood before an assembly to help honor a loved one's life. Some deaths were expected. Many were not. Through it, we've learned much about the administrative side of death, first with the funeral home and second with the paperwork.

Just about every aspect of a funeral cost money. If you use the funeral home's chapel, there's a charge. If you go elsewhere (such as a church) and have the coffin brought to the venue, there's a charge. If you have a viewing, there's a charge. It also requires a makeup artist to fix up the loved one for the viewing, so there's a charge. I'm told having the funeral home raise the lid and lower it costs money as well. And those are just the fees I know of. Consequently, to keep funeral expenses down, my husband and I decided not to have a viewing, no makeup artist, and not to have the coffin brought to whatever location the service will be held. We'll simply have a memorial at a church and then a graveside service. That should bring the funeral cost down between $5,000 and $7,000. I'll have to research if that amount includes cemetery associated fees (someone has to set up that tent and dig that hole) or if that's in addition to funeral home costs.

We'll have to state all this in writing, because a few representatives from funeral homes have been known to pressure family members. In their grief, the bereaved often make decisions they wouldn't make under normal circumstances. As a pastor who has accompanied widows and adult children to funeral homes for planning, my husband has heard, on more than one occasion, "Don't you want your loved one to have the best?" Such manipulation recently cost a widow her husband's entire life insurance policy, plus some.

While that doesn't represent the actions of all funeral home reps, we have to plan in advance on our own to avoid making decisions when we can't think straight. Free funeral planning worksheets can be found online. We'll download one and fill it out, updating it as needed. My husband served in the Air Force. We'll also contact our local VA office to see what benefits they provide. The money we'll save will help our family.

Next, my husband and I will need to gather all the documents for our "estate." I'll discuss that in my next post.

So Is God Still Good?

Those of us who are connected to Christians on social media often see the proclamation shouted in a post: This wonderful thing happened to me. God is good!

• My fairy tale wedding was beautiful. God is good!
• I was able to move to the place I love. God is good!
• I/my child finally got that college degree. God is good!
• A publisher accepted my manuscript. I'm going to be published! God is so good!

The subject of God's goodness came up during a staff meeting this week at the church where I work.The discussion involved people who were going through hardships and our readiness to recognize God's goodness when our lives are going well. That begged the question, is God not good when all isn't going well?

• What about the Christians in China who are undergoing severe persecution right now, is God not good? 
• And those Christian in Nigeria who are being slaughtered for their faith, is God not good? 
• If the child of a Christian couple is diagnosed with cancer, is God not good? 

And what about my life experiences, which seem puny compared to those examples. Thanks to my mother seriously underestimating my soon-to-be husband's tolerance for crazed-fueled drama, our small wedding in front of a JP was hardly fairy tale. Decades later, ministry sent us far from our children as well as the region I loved. Despite trying for years--attending two community colleges and four universities, maintaining a 4.0 average for much of that, and earning over 90 hours of credits--I couldn't earn that coveted Bachelor's Degree. My husband's job transfers and his education, including seminary, had to come first. And a book contract? I don't even want to go there.

I didn't get what I wanted. Does that mean God isn't good?

We have a habit of measuring God's goodness by our successes and His willingness to fulfill our deepest desires. When He chooses to shower gifts on us, we recognize His goodness. And come on, admit it, when God opts not to shower those same gifts on others, we secretly feel that person (even if that person is us) has some manner of spiritual flaw and thus is undeserving. After all, the Lord said, "And whatever you ask in prayer, you will receive, if you have faith."

So those who didn't receive the goodies they wanted are faithless, right?

No. God is good all the time, even when He doesn't grant our wishes.

• Did Abraham receive his God-given promise during his lifetime?
• Was Moses able to go into that promised land even after leading the rebellious Israelite community through the wilderness for forty years?
• Did Mary outlive her innocent son instead of having to watch him die a horrible death on a cross? 
• Did the disciples lead nice, quiet lives and die peaceful deaths at a good old age?
• Did Christians throughout church history enjoy lives of ease from the wonderful plan God had for their lives? 

No, no, and more no. And yet, God is good. He provided the ultimate atoning sacrifice for His people even though we are most undeserving of that grace and mercy. He gave us His word and His spirit to guide us as we live our temporal life on this earth. He gave us the Body of Christ, who, when we do what we're supposed to do, serve as a support to those grieving parents and for others enduring hardships. And He gave His people eternal life. The saints undergoing severe persecution know this and are comforted by it even in their distress.

As for me and my meager issues, which at times don't feel so meager, maybe I didn't get that beautiful wedding, but I did get a wonderful, faithful husband who loves me even nearly forty years later, and who faithfully serves the Lord, teaching his congregation the scriptures and doctrines in context, and who ministers to the church as a shepherd to his flock. I didn't get that coveted degree. With tuition prices, I never will. However, the Lord gave me the desire and ability to keep learning, which I do, even now studying history and the French language. Yes, I do live far from my family and the region I love, but I can squeeze in visits here and there. So writing didn't work out as I was certain it would, but I gave it my best effort, and I wanted to do so for God's glory and for His kingdom (I've been told numerous times my stories are too Christian for the Christian market.)

Perhaps the reason I didn't get the desires of my heart really is due to some manner of spiritual flaw, I don't know. But if so, that means God is working in my life and He'll ultimately use that work for His glory.

I wanted some things, yes, but what matters most is what God wanted for me. As I look at His creation, the salvation He provided, His work around the world and in our congregation, and the life He gave me, I can easily see and readily say that yes, God most certainly is good.

Rhythm of Life

I'm not a fan of the unsettled life. Times of uncertainty, doubt. The valleys we often traverse, whether deep or shallow. Yet this is part of a Christian's sanctification, meaning God uses these trials to work in us character, patience, obedience. Still, such times are difficult to endure.

At times, I grow weary, then wearier. Often, this is the point I need to reach to learn a lesson. As the Lord told Paul, "My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness." Instead of resting in that promise and thanking him for His grace, I ask why. My sanctification is far from complete.

This morning, while verifying the spelling of the word "rhythm" for use in my Facebook status (I tend to transpose the initial h and the y), my eye caught the following definition:

rhythm
: an ordered recurrent alternation of strong and weak elements... 

Alternation of strong and weak elements. A monumental truth in a simple definition. Mountain peaks wouldn't be peaks without the valleys. I wouldn't recognize good times without the contrast of the bad.

God's strength in weakness.

All part of the rhythm of life.