Every Morning is Easter Morning!

I don’t remember her name, but I do remember her testimony.  She was an elderly member of our church when I was a young teenager.  She had been diagnosed with cancer and told she had very little time to live.  That had been years before.  She had outlived every doctor’s prognosis.  In a day when cancer might have been referred to in quiet whispers and somehow associated with shame and embarrassment, she found the grace and courage to openly share her story.   When people went to call on her because she was homebound and ill, the caller always came away with their faith renewed.  They went to make her feel better.  They came away ministered to and feeling better themselves.

One year late in Lent this woman recorded a message to be shared at our church’s United Methodist Women’s monthly meeting. It so happened that my mom had the tape at home. She was listening to it in her bedroom one day, and that was how I came to hear the woman share her testimony in her own words. 

“It will soon be Easter,” she said.  “But for me, every morning is Easter morning.  Every day is a reminder of God’s grace and love.  Every day is a resurrection day, a new day of life and an opportunity to serve Him.” 

It seemed only fitting that a few days later, early on Easter Sunday morning, this remarkable saint left this life and went home to be with her Lord. 

Honestly, I suppose I might not have remembered her testimony so clearly if it were not for a song I learned several years later that called her to mind.  The lyrics are as follows:

Ev'ry morning is Easter morning from now on! 
Ev'ry day's resurrection day, the past is over and gone! 

Good-bye guilt, good-bye fear, good riddance! Hello, Lord, Hello, sun! 
I am one of the Easter People! My new life has begun! 

Ev'ry morning is Easter morning from now on! 
Ev'ry day's resurrection day, the past is over and gone! 

Daily news is so bad it seems the Good News seldom gets heard. 
Get it straight from the Easter People! God's in charge spread the word! 

Ev'ry morning is Easter morning from now on! 
Ev'ry day's resurrection day, the past is over and gone! 

Yesterday I was bored and lonely; But today look and see! 
I belong to the Easter People! Life's exciting to me! 
Ev'ry morning is Easter morning from now on! 
Ev'ry day's resurrection day, the past is over and gone! 
Ev'ry morning is Easter morning, 
Ev'ry morning is Easter morning, 
Ev'ry morning is Easter morning, 
From now on! 
 

(Words & Tune:  Richard K. Avery and Donald S. Marsh, in the Avery and Marsh Songbook, ©1967, Hope Publishing Co.)

Pain, despair and injustice are all around us.  This cannot be denied.  Yet as Christians we know that the greatest injustice ever done was the murder of God’s son on a cross at Calvary.  Whatever atonement theory one may embrace, it seems quite clear that it was never God’s intention to allow sin, darkness and injustice to have the final word.  Even when humanity did its utmost worst, God did His utmost best.  When humanity’s sin sent Christ to the cross, God’s grace overcame the power of death.  Christ rose from the tomb three days after his physical death. He walked, talked, prayed and broke bread with those he had known as his friends.  For those who place their trust in Him this makes all the difference.

The things that hold us in bondage – things like lack of forgiveness, abuse, addiction, disease and disability, fear and anxiety, grief and mourning – may be a very real burden to us.  But we are not without hope.  Christ is our joy.  The empty tomb is our hope.  An instrument of cruelty and execution (the cross) has become our victory sign.  Christ is risen!  Alleluia!  Light has conquered the darkness!  Love is stronger than hate!  Death is vanquished.  Joy in this life and eternity with God are our destiny. 

May you have a blessed Easter Season!

Robyn

 

Good Friday 2011

Good Friday, 2011

   Someone once told me that I have never “accepted” the basic injustice of life.  That statement made me very upset and even angry.  Through personal experience or by companioning others on their grief journeys I have known a great deal of the injustice that seems to be inherent in life this side of eternity.

   I have known, at a very young age, the injustice of war that leaves innocent children hungry, homeless and orphaned.  (I have three siblings adopted from Korea,  and my mother travelled to Korea and Vietnam several times during my childhood working to bring aid and assistance to the orphans in those war torn countries.)

   I know the injustice of old age and illness – cancer and COPD, for example, that leaves good Christian men and women lying in their beds fighting with everyone ounce of strength in their bodies for just one more breath.

   I know the injustice of pain heaped upon an already broken heart when a mother learns her children are disabled or have serious medical problems.

   I know the  injustice of mental illness that strips away not only joy and peace, but at its worst strips away even anger and grief - not just feeling bad or sad -  but feeling nothing, a terrible, awful aloneness in the deepest, darkest of pits.

   I know injustice and I know it rather well.  It angers me!

When We Are Wounded by Grief

Grief and loss come in many guises.  All grief is not the result of Death, but all losses are a kind of little death.  Our response to these little deaths - the illnesses, the disappointments, the moves, the divorces—are shaped and formed by our unique personality and our life experience as well as many other factors. 

Our first experience of loss can significantly shape our future response to loss.  When I was in elementary school the father of one of my classmates died.  I had always known about death because my dad was a minister.  However, I don’t think I ever realized until then that death could happen to someone I loved or a member of my own family.  I was very curious about it all.  I befriended my classmate during that time in her life.  I was her friend through the selling of the family farm and her families subsequent move into town.  I continued to be her friend until my family moved away a few years later.  During that time of great curiosity about death I remember leaning up over the front seat of the car one day and saying something like, “Mom, Dad, don’t misunderstand what I’m about to say, but I wish someone in our family would die.”  I don’t remember my parents’ response and I don’t know how many days or hours passed (to my mind it seems like it all happened the same day) but shortly thereafter we received a phone call that my great-grandmother had died in a house fire.

Intentionally seeking beauty
is one way I have found to
comfort myself in times of loss

I was sure I had wished her dead.  I felt terribly, secretly guilty for a long, long time.

After shock and denial, guilt is still the first reaction I have to the news of a loved one’s death.  It doesn’t really matter what specifically I feel guilty for.   None of it is particularly rational anyway.  It’s just an insight I’ve gained over the years.  When I go to that guilty place I know why.  The insight helps take the sting out of the guilt so that it passes a little more easily.   

While our natural inclination is to avoid the pain of grief, wisdom and discernment do not come through avoidance.  Think of grief as being like an infected wound.  Left alone, the wound might fester and become more and more painful.  It might break open violently and painfully, in a way that could spread the infection to other healthy areas of the body.  Most of us, when we have an infection or painful wound, care for it.  We care for it gently.  We may gently probe the wound or cleanse the wound.  We apply the appropriate healing ointments.  We may bandage it.  We may limp or otherwise favor the wounded part of our body.  If the wound does not respond to our own care, we will seek out someone with special knowledge for the care of infected wounds – a doctor or a nurse. 

Grief is one of the most painful wounds we will ever need to care for.  We will need to be gentle with our grief.  We may only be able to limp through life for a while.  We will need to gently approach and probe our grief wound to discover what type of healing care is needed.  We may need to seek out the help of someone who has special knowledge about grief – a pastor, counselor or other professional. We may avoid our pain or even run from it for a while.  That is normal enough.  Yet, I believe you have the courage to move beyond avoiding the pain to the place where you begin learning to care for yourself and/or to seek the help you need.  Gently.  Carefully. 

I wish you strength as you begin or continue your journey toward hope and healing from the pain of grief.

Bob and Ben: A Story About Grief for Children (Of All Ages)

Once there were two friends, Ben and Bob.  Ben and Bob were best buddies and enjoyed doing many things together.

One day Ben and Bob both went to a birthday party for their friend Bruce.  They had a great time. However, the next day Bruce’s mom called to say that Bruce was sick with the chicken pox.

Well, wouldn’t you know that Ben and Bob both came down with chicken pox, too!  Ben ran a fever.  Bob had a runny nose and cough.  Both of them had itchy chicken pox all over.  They were miserable!

Ben’s mom made him rub smelly pink lotion all over his body.  Bob’s mom made him take cough syrup that tasted awful.  Bleh!  Day after day they lay in bed.  Ben was sweaty with his fever.  When he sweat he would itch more and more until he thought he would go crazy!

Bob coughed and scratched and coughed and scratched and coughed some more until he thought he would go crazy!

“Don’t worry,” their mothers both said. “Everyone goes through this when they have the chicken pox.  You’ll start to feel better soon.”

Bob was grouchy, and Ben was grumpy. They couldn’t go to school, which was O.K., but they couldn’t go out and play with their friends either.  They weren’t even allowed to talk to each other on the phone or use the computer.  Ugh!

Just when they both thought they’d really go crazy, Ben noticed that he wasn’t itching quite so much.  Bob noticed that his sore throat and cough was gone.  Ben had his mom check his temperature and found out his fever had disappeared.  Bob said, “I don’t need that horrible cough syrup.  I won’t take it anymore AND YOU CAN’T MAKE ME!”

As you can tell, they were still grumpy, but their moms knew that they really were starting to feel better and would be back in school soon.  A few more days passed.  Bob and Ben talked on the phone. They decided they were feeling well enough to go back to school.  That even sounded like a pretty good idea because they were bored and they were missing their friends.  Their moms agreed it was time.  So the very next day Bob and Ben returned to school.  Bob and Ben and Bruce were as happy to see one another as friends can be.

Today, Ben still has some scars where he scratched and picked at the biggest chicken pox.  Bob still remembers that bad time and, if he tries really hard, he can still remember the awful taste of that cough syrup. Bleh!

However, what Bob and Ben remember most about that year is the fun they had at Bruce’s birthday party, the good times they had with their friends when they got back to school and how lucky they are to have one another as friends.

The End.

Thoughts and Reflections:

Grief is not an illness.  Grief is a normal and natural response to any experience of loss.  However, sometimes we can feel “sick with grief”.  Our grief can remind us of what it feels like to be ill and vulnerable.

How do you feel when you are ill at home and unable to do the things you normally want or need to do? 

How is your grief like being ill?

There is no way around, under or over grief.  We must go through it, awful as it is.  What kinds of things do you need (like Ben and Bob’s medicine and pink lotion) to move through these pain-filled and uncomfortable days?

Does your grief ever make you feel like you are “going crazy” or losing it?  Is there value in the advice of Ben and Bob’s mothers that could apply to your situation?  Or do you feel that advice doesn’t apply?  Why or why not?                                                                  

                                                                       

 When you are sick, you go to the doctor. Who can you talk to or go to for help with your grief?

Can you imagine a time when the pain of remembering gives way to the joy of remembering?

Blessings on your journey.

Robyn

                                      

                                                                                                                                                                               

                                                                                                      

A Prayer for Mother's Day

   

On Mother’s Day 2010 we are so grateful for our mothers and those who have been like mothers to us.  Yet we recognize that there are many mothers today who are unable to be with the children they love for a host of reasons.  Motherhood is full of joy and of heartbreak.  Please join in this prayer for mothers whose hearts are breaking today.

Eternal and Loving God, your word tell us that you are like a mother hen, gathering her chicks under the protection of her wing.  God, you understand mothers.  You understand that motherhood is full of joy, challenge and heartbreak.  Hear our prayer for mothers who are heart-broken by the demands of mothering and for those who are unable to be with their children this day.  

                                                             

We pray for all mothers who are not with their children today because their children are incarcerated. Lord, grant these mothers your peace and mercy.

We pray for mothers who cannot be with their children today because their children are addicted to drugs or alcohol and are no longer welcome at home, or those whose children are in treatment for their addictions.  Lord, grant these mothers your peace and the strength to stand firm for the sake of their children.

We pray for mothers who cannot be with their children today because the children have been removed from the home and placed in foster care or because mother is in prison or because mother has abandoned the child.  Lord, grant these mothers your peace and mercy.

We pray for mothers whose children hold a grudge today; who cannot forgive their mothers for being human, for failing them, for disappointing them.  Lord, grant these mothers your peace and mercy.  Move these women and their children to a new place of understanding, forgiveness and a new beginning.

We pray for mothers whose sons and daughters are in far away lands serving in our military; those who have placed themselves in harms way so we might be safer and free.  Lord, grant these mothers your peace and help us always to honor their sacrifice.

We pray for mothers whose children are in far away lands serving as missionaries and emergency relief workers.  Lord, grant these mothers your peace and crown them with honor for having raised such self-less and compassionate children.

We pray for mothers who have experienced the worse heartbreak a mother can know-the death of her child.  Lord, grant these mothers your peace.  Comfort them as they experience the searing pain of physical separation from one who has literally been a part of their own lifeblood and body.  Grant them the hope of eternal life and the promise of being united again with their precious sons and daughters.

"Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning"
Psalm 30:5  (KJV)

Lord, we pray for mothers everywhere who rock crying babies; kiss away owies; hug away our tears; protect and defend us; correct and punish us; love us enough to say “yes” and love us enough to say “no”; who love and keep us always in their hearts regardless of the years, the miles or the tears that may have driven us apart.  Lord, bless our mothers – everywhere – we pray.  Amen.

                                                                                               

                                                                                          

Where are you?

            “Where are you, God?” Sara whispered as she entered the sanctuary.  As always the sunlight turned blue by the stained glass windows moved something deep within Sara.  It was beautiful here in the sanctuary of the church she had called her own since childhood. Still, God had seemed so distant for so long.  She was only here now because Pastor Rick had pushed her to spend this time in prayer.  In this room Sara had been baptized at age four.  Here, she portrayed one of the angel hosts bringing “good news of great joy” to shepherds in the children’s Christmas pageant.  Here in this room, for a short time, she had played drums with her youth group’s band.  She had even walked down this aisle arm-in-arm with her dad on her wedding day. 

            Sara hadn’t really expected an answer to her question, so she was startled when she heard a voice call out, “I’m here!”

            “Who’s there?” Sarah squinted through the dim light thinking perhaps the church custodian was working in the sanctuary this evening. 

            “I’m here!” the voice came again.