I have put off writing this blog entry for so long that I feel the topic is far more appropriate than what I was originally planning on writing about. I guess I will write that one later. Now that I have carved a pumpkin, listened to some music on YouTube, played on FaceBook, sat in front of the fire for a while, started a load of laundry, meandered around the house for a bit, played a game with my daughter, messed around with the camera, and cleaned out the kitchen sink, I guess I will sit down here and write this.
I can say with all honesty that I was never a big procrastinator in my life BC (Note that AC/BC does not refer to some obscure rock band from the 70’s, but rather historic periods of my life entitled “after children” and “before children”). So, BC - a decade or so ago (not that I am trying to date myself), I did what I said I was going to do at exactly the time I said I was going to do it. Procrastinating was that thing that old, lazy and/or unreliable people did. It would really bug me if someone said they were going to do something and they didn’t get it done (okay, it still bugs me. What can I say?). I couldn’t understand what the big issue was. Why not just do it and get it over with? Now that I am in the period of AC and pretty much tired 110% of the time, I totally get it. God’s sense of humor is not lost on me as He has yet again served me with a dose of “humble pie”. He took the trait that bothers me so much and in His great and glorious sense of wisdom and humor, decided to pour it into me. We learn by what we live, right?
For MOST people, I think the issue of procrastination is not really unreliability, but rather just being tired and juggling too many plates, especially in today’s day and age. We all have so much going on that we pick and choose things that we have to do and everything else gets pushed off (ignored) until later. For some of us (yes, I am raising my hand), later never really comes. I am realizing more and more how often I procrastinate on things now that I have been a single mom for going into my 5th year. Having two kids in elementary school, I find that I am juggling even more than I was before between work, homework and church activities, and I find my level of personal procrastination growing more, and yes I get irritated with myself. Why the irritation? Because by procrastinating, I cause un-needed stress in an already stressed and hectic schedule. I get done only what I NEED to get done in my personal life, and everything else waits until the last minute. Don’t let appearances fool you one bit. If I look like I am all neat and generally prepared, you can be certain that there was panic either the day before or the hour before whatever the event is.
For example, why buy school supplies a month before school starts when I can stress myself out by having to shop the week before school starts? Have you ever been to the store the week before school starts? All those pen and pencil bins are empty! Don't the stores plan for people like me? What about last minute Christmas shopping… a WEEK before Christmas!!! Call me glutton for punishment. (Did I mention how much I hate shopping?) Here’s another perfect example of procrastination run amuck in my personal life. I invited a friend over for dinner a few Friday nights ago. I wanted to cook a nice dinner; something I don’t get to do very often on account of young, picky eaters in the home. Problem – Procrastination on checking for the proper ingredients. I knew what I wanted to make, I just failed to make sure I had all the ingredients until an hour before my friend was scheduled to arrive. Alas, I did not get to cook the item I wanted to make and wound up with something store bought and tasteless. **sigh** Self-inflicted stress and disappointment (and a tummy ache later, too!)!! And let's not even get started on the condition of my house. It was "lived in" before, but sometimes now I wonder if I am not trying to create my own "creature feature". Oh, wait, that wasn't something growing on my bathroom floor, it was actually the cat. **shew** I did, however, just stop writing this blog and reorganize part of a closet. I am not sure if that should be counted as a negative - procrastinating the completion of this blog; or a positive – organizing something that should have been done a year ago (which of course is also procrastination because I should have done it a year ago!!! **sigh**). Is this really how God wants us to live?
God wants us to honor our commitments and to be responsible for the promises we make, not just to those around us and at work, but I believe to ourselves as well. His word states clearly in Matthew 5:33-37, “33"Again, you have heard that it was said to the people long ago, 'Do not break your oath, but keep the oaths you have made to the Lord.' 34But I tell you, Do not swear at all: either by heaven, for it is God's throne; 35or by the earth, for it is his footstool; or by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the Great King. 36And do not swear by your head, for you cannot make even one hair white or black. 37Simply let your 'Yes' be 'Yes,' and your 'No,' 'No'; anything beyond this comes from the evil one.”
This verse in scripture is very clear “Let your yes be yes and your no be no.” We need to strive to live up to the commitments we make to one another and to ourselves in order to comply with God’s word, not only to those around us, but to ourselves as well. By doing so, we leave a more positive impression on our neighbors and we gain a level of self-respect we didn’t have before.
I know that I am not yet where I need to be on this topic, but God hasn’t given up on me. When I am done writing this blog entry, I am going to procrastinate on folding the laundry and get ready for bed. In fact, I already know that the load of laundry will sit in the basket for several days before it gets put away, but I did dust off my desk yesterday, so it’s a fair trade off and is progress in the right direction. Besides, God loves me even when I am putting off doing today what I can always do tomorrow (or next week).
Psalm 36:7: “7How priceless is your unfailing love! Both high and low among men find refuge in the shadow of your wings.”
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Remembering My Dad
This post isn't about my own parenting nor is it about being tired at all. This one is about my dad who passed away 11 years ago this month.
It was 1998 and it was one of those phone calls you never want to get from your parent. "If anything happens to me, I want cremation." My head was buzzing as I was thinking to myself, "WHAT???? Where did this come from?" So, I asked my dad to jump back a few steps and asked what was going on. At that point, he'd been urinating blood for a month and had not been to see the doctor, nor had he mentioned it to my step mom. My dad loved his wife very much and didn't want her worrying. I explained that he needed to let her know what was going on and he needed to get in to see a doctor. He said he understood, but what was very important was that he wanted me to understand that he wanted cremation if anything happened to him.
I am convinced that people, much like animals, know when their time is nearing the end. Perhaps its how your body feels to you. For a believer in Christ, it could be that there is an overwhelming presence of a mass of angels surrounding you every day, and they increase in number as your end date draws near, or an overwhelming sense of peace - knowing you are going Home. I know this, my dad was keenly aware during this phone conversation that his life as I knew it was coming to an end, and he was determined to make sure that at least one of his children knew how he wanted things to move forward after he was gone.
The final diagnosis was stage 4 cancer and he was given a year to live. My dad, in his infinite wisdom, decided he was going to continue living his life to the fullest and enjoy every moment he had left. We already knew that there was nothing that could be done to save him and instead, through hospice care, he was treated to stay comfortable. I know because I was one of the two people assisting him in his last days and was blessed to be there the morning he took his last breath.
I can tell you with all certainty the Jesus saw my dad into heaven on that Sunday morning in May. The morning started like most of the rest of the week had, with Norma and me taking turns watching him and giving him morphine shots for comfort as needed. Hospice care had been to the house on Friday and after looking my father over, suggested that we each say our good-byes as they expected Friday would be the day he would depart. I am not sure I can describe what it is like to sit in front of your parent who is sick with cancer and emaciated to the point that you no longer recognize them, and tell them it is okay to go. I am not sure I can explain the difficulty with which you fight to hold back tears of sadness while trying to encouragingly say "Go, be with Jesus," however I somehow managed to say those very things to this man, my father, whom I truly respected, although not given many reasons to.
In his former life, he was not the world's best father to us (he simply was never there - or was drunk and sleeping when he was), or husband to my mom, whom he eventually left to marry a woman he knew from high school. Now in my 40's, I want to say I understand it more, although it would be a lie. What I do understand about it is that my parents were not in love with one another when they married, nor did they understand what the commitment of "Until death do us part" meant. To say they should never have been together would somehow be saying that my brother, sister and I should not have been born. God has His reasons for everything, and had my mom and dad not married, the three of us would not be here, nor would any of our children, and I know for a fact that there are reasons each of us are here. What I can tell you is that my dad had incredible wisdom (wisdom through failure is still wisdom), and while I didn't know him growing up, I learned to listen to him as a young adult, and he was always the one I went to for advice. I can tell you that my dad was a man who felt deep regrets over his past mistakes which resulted in a penned letter to my mother.
Not long after receiving his diagnosis of terminal cancer, he gave his life back to Christ, and followed him faithfully into Heaven. I believe that were it not for his faith and rededication to the Lord, admitting his failures would never have happened, and seeking forgiveness would have been the last thing on his mind. Matthew 6:14 states "For if you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you." And so by writing this letter to my mom, he was doing what he knew to be right in the eyes of God. He was seeking forgiveness from one of the people he had hurt. Within this letter was a heartfelt, and God lead apology for every misfortune he ever brought upon her life - for not being a good husband, father, provider, etc. Within this letter he sought forgiveness for his past wrongs. Forgiveness is the glue that holds us together in the family of God - not just seeking it, but giving it as well. I cannot imagine it was easy for him to put all of that into a letter he would not just write and throw away, but that he would write and send to the woman he had so wronged. The woman who bore the burden of raising three kids alone during a time when single parenting was not as widely spread as it is today. I have so much respect for my father for listening to God's word
My father was an incredible trumpet player and had cut two albums in his life that were distributed mostly amongst family and friends. We thought he would like to pass into Heaven listening to his music, so in the background was the sound of my father's horn playing - sounds of my youth circling around me. It was hard to look at this figure lying in the bed and remember the handsome 6'3 man that I knew as my father. I barely recognized the figure lying under the bed sheet as I held his hand which felt like skeleton under feather like skin, and I found myself at a loss for words. I do remember telling him that Jesus was waiting for him and that it was okay for him to leave. I reassured him that I would see him again one day and that was about all I was able to say. I sat holding his hand for many minutes telling myself I would not cry in front of him. When I was done, I left the room allowing my step-mom to enter and say her good-byes as I retreated to the guest room to silently cry on my own.
Friday crawled by slowly with us administering morphine shots every 3 hours or so and with members of his church there to help support us through prayer and genuine Christ-like love. Dad's skin was grey and his breathing was labored, however for some reason he continued to remain with us. His color was better on Saturday as we began another day of watching and waiting for the inevitable to come that again managed to escape for another day. That Sunday morning I could see that the stress of caring for the man she loved was wearing on Norma and so I suggested she leave the house for a little while. If nothing else, I felt she needed some fresh air. She did not want to be away from him, but admitted she had not been to the post office in a while and decided she would just run up to check the mail. To this day I am amazed at the way God works in our lives and that he truly knows what we need and when we need it.
Norma returned from the post office with an excitement in her I had not seen all week. Unbeknownst to her, six weeks earlier my father had ordered a CD through the mail - Jackie Gleason's Songs for Lovers - and it happened to arrive that morning in the mail. She and my father loved Jackie Gleason's music. She put the CD on and sat next to my dad and held his hand. She sat quietly looking at him stroking his hair in a very loving way and I truly felt like perhaps I should give her some privacy to pour her love and affection on my father. I stepped out of the room for what I believe was only a few short minutes and she called me back in stating that it looked as if he needed another shot of morphine. As I quickly began filling the syringe, my dad took his last breath and very peacefully left the room. The presence of Christ was so heavy in the room you could smell his sweetness.
As Norma and I sat and cried together for many minutes, she told me that she had not said good-bye to him on Friday. She told me she just could not do it. She didn't want to say good-bye. My father loved her very much and when he learned of his terminal illness, all he worried about was his wife and would she be okay. Who would take care of her? He needed to know that she was going to be okay and he needed to hear it from her. That morning when I left the room, she said she held his hand and told him it was okay for him to leave. She told him that she would be okay and that if he wanted to go and be with the Lord, to please not worry about her and to go. She told him she loved him and she kissed his face. She told me he squeezed her hand, and it was within minutes that he took his last breath and was gone from this world.
As I recall the memory of that day with tears in my eyes yet again, I am filled with a peace that I can say with all confidence comes from the knowledge that my father is in Heaven with Jesus. Christ was in the room the day my father passed away and He was there to take him home where I will see him again one day.
John 14:1-3 says "Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am."
It was 1998 and it was one of those phone calls you never want to get from your parent. "If anything happens to me, I want cremation." My head was buzzing as I was thinking to myself, "WHAT???? Where did this come from?" So, I asked my dad to jump back a few steps and asked what was going on. At that point, he'd been urinating blood for a month and had not been to see the doctor, nor had he mentioned it to my step mom. My dad loved his wife very much and didn't want her worrying. I explained that he needed to let her know what was going on and he needed to get in to see a doctor. He said he understood, but what was very important was that he wanted me to understand that he wanted cremation if anything happened to him.
I am convinced that people, much like animals, know when their time is nearing the end. Perhaps its how your body feels to you. For a believer in Christ, it could be that there is an overwhelming presence of a mass of angels surrounding you every day, and they increase in number as your end date draws near, or an overwhelming sense of peace - knowing you are going Home. I know this, my dad was keenly aware during this phone conversation that his life as I knew it was coming to an end, and he was determined to make sure that at least one of his children knew how he wanted things to move forward after he was gone.
The final diagnosis was stage 4 cancer and he was given a year to live. My dad, in his infinite wisdom, decided he was going to continue living his life to the fullest and enjoy every moment he had left. We already knew that there was nothing that could be done to save him and instead, through hospice care, he was treated to stay comfortable. I know because I was one of the two people assisting him in his last days and was blessed to be there the morning he took his last breath.
I can tell you with all certainty the Jesus saw my dad into heaven on that Sunday morning in May. The morning started like most of the rest of the week had, with Norma and me taking turns watching him and giving him morphine shots for comfort as needed. Hospice care had been to the house on Friday and after looking my father over, suggested that we each say our good-byes as they expected Friday would be the day he would depart. I am not sure I can describe what it is like to sit in front of your parent who is sick with cancer and emaciated to the point that you no longer recognize them, and tell them it is okay to go. I am not sure I can explain the difficulty with which you fight to hold back tears of sadness while trying to encouragingly say "Go, be with Jesus," however I somehow managed to say those very things to this man, my father, whom I truly respected, although not given many reasons to.
In his former life, he was not the world's best father to us (he simply was never there - or was drunk and sleeping when he was), or husband to my mom, whom he eventually left to marry a woman he knew from high school. Now in my 40's, I want to say I understand it more, although it would be a lie. What I do understand about it is that my parents were not in love with one another when they married, nor did they understand what the commitment of "Until death do us part" meant. To say they should never have been together would somehow be saying that my brother, sister and I should not have been born. God has His reasons for everything, and had my mom and dad not married, the three of us would not be here, nor would any of our children, and I know for a fact that there are reasons each of us are here. What I can tell you is that my dad had incredible wisdom (wisdom through failure is still wisdom), and while I didn't know him growing up, I learned to listen to him as a young adult, and he was always the one I went to for advice. I can tell you that my dad was a man who felt deep regrets over his past mistakes which resulted in a penned letter to my mother.
Not long after receiving his diagnosis of terminal cancer, he gave his life back to Christ, and followed him faithfully into Heaven. I believe that were it not for his faith and rededication to the Lord, admitting his failures would never have happened, and seeking forgiveness would have been the last thing on his mind. Matthew 6:14 states "For if you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you." And so by writing this letter to my mom, he was doing what he knew to be right in the eyes of God. He was seeking forgiveness from one of the people he had hurt. Within this letter was a heartfelt, and God lead apology for every misfortune he ever brought upon her life - for not being a good husband, father, provider, etc. Within this letter he sought forgiveness for his past wrongs. Forgiveness is the glue that holds us together in the family of God - not just seeking it, but giving it as well. I cannot imagine it was easy for him to put all of that into a letter he would not just write and throw away, but that he would write and send to the woman he had so wronged. The woman who bore the burden of raising three kids alone during a time when single parenting was not as widely spread as it is today. I have so much respect for my father for listening to God's word
My father was an incredible trumpet player and had cut two albums in his life that were distributed mostly amongst family and friends. We thought he would like to pass into Heaven listening to his music, so in the background was the sound of my father's horn playing - sounds of my youth circling around me. It was hard to look at this figure lying in the bed and remember the handsome 6'3 man that I knew as my father. I barely recognized the figure lying under the bed sheet as I held his hand which felt like skeleton under feather like skin, and I found myself at a loss for words. I do remember telling him that Jesus was waiting for him and that it was okay for him to leave. I reassured him that I would see him again one day and that was about all I was able to say. I sat holding his hand for many minutes telling myself I would not cry in front of him. When I was done, I left the room allowing my step-mom to enter and say her good-byes as I retreated to the guest room to silently cry on my own.
Friday crawled by slowly with us administering morphine shots every 3 hours or so and with members of his church there to help support us through prayer and genuine Christ-like love. Dad's skin was grey and his breathing was labored, however for some reason he continued to remain with us. His color was better on Saturday as we began another day of watching and waiting for the inevitable to come that again managed to escape for another day. That Sunday morning I could see that the stress of caring for the man she loved was wearing on Norma and so I suggested she leave the house for a little while. If nothing else, I felt she needed some fresh air. She did not want to be away from him, but admitted she had not been to the post office in a while and decided she would just run up to check the mail. To this day I am amazed at the way God works in our lives and that he truly knows what we need and when we need it.
Norma returned from the post office with an excitement in her I had not seen all week. Unbeknownst to her, six weeks earlier my father had ordered a CD through the mail - Jackie Gleason's Songs for Lovers - and it happened to arrive that morning in the mail. She and my father loved Jackie Gleason's music. She put the CD on and sat next to my dad and held his hand. She sat quietly looking at him stroking his hair in a very loving way and I truly felt like perhaps I should give her some privacy to pour her love and affection on my father. I stepped out of the room for what I believe was only a few short minutes and she called me back in stating that it looked as if he needed another shot of morphine. As I quickly began filling the syringe, my dad took his last breath and very peacefully left the room. The presence of Christ was so heavy in the room you could smell his sweetness.
As Norma and I sat and cried together for many minutes, she told me that she had not said good-bye to him on Friday. She told me she just could not do it. She didn't want to say good-bye. My father loved her very much and when he learned of his terminal illness, all he worried about was his wife and would she be okay. Who would take care of her? He needed to know that she was going to be okay and he needed to hear it from her. That morning when I left the room, she said she held his hand and told him it was okay for him to leave. She told him that she would be okay and that if he wanted to go and be with the Lord, to please not worry about her and to go. She told him she loved him and she kissed his face. She told me he squeezed her hand, and it was within minutes that he took his last breath and was gone from this world.
As I recall the memory of that day with tears in my eyes yet again, I am filled with a peace that I can say with all confidence comes from the knowledge that my father is in Heaven with Jesus. Christ was in the room the day my father passed away and He was there to take him home where I will see him again one day.
John 14:1-3 says "Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am."
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