A Life-Changing Day

First glimpse of Alice Madeline Mora, my first grandchild.

 Alice & Mommy (my daughter Brittany)

 Alice & Daddy

 Alice & Uncle Mikey

Alice & Uncle Andy

Alice & Uncle Elias

 Alice & Uncle Zachary

Alice & G-Mom... that's ME!

There just aren't any more words to describe this day right now. If there was ever a day I wish I could have shared with Phillip, it would be this one. G-Dad is missed very much.

HOMECOMING

      There were some empty chairs at our table this Thanksgiving, each one bringing its own reflection and remembrances. The year has wrought extreme sorrow in losing and extreme joy in expecting so missing the ones I love resonated a little deeper. 
      Mikey and Kaci were absent only because her family had come from such a long way to spend the day with "Memaw." The time together with Kaci's family was precious and will always be remembered. Their chairs don't seem quite so vacant when I know they are making memories they will always hold dear. The blessing of marriage is that each partner is part of TWO families. Missing them isn't so hard because I know their hearts really aren't far from home. If home is where the heart is, it can be in more than one place. Though they couldn't share the day with us, they were making memories where their hearts needed to be... In reflection, their chairs really weren't so empty at all.
     Elias' chair has been empty at our table several times in recent years because he's served his country in distant lands... All of my children have left empty chairs through the years in pursuit of their purpose. For my Marine sons, MRE's have been a more likely holiday dinner than festive turkey and pumpkin pies, and knowing what they are missing deepens the longing to have them home. A mama's heartstrings always tug in awareness of these empty chairs because a Marine's coming home is never certain. And the unknowing if he is well and at peace or in the midst of conflict weighs heavy. This year, missing him and knowing that he misses his dad even more makes his empty chair seem lonelier because I just want him to know he isn't alone in his sorrow. We all share it together. But knowing this year that he was on a journey that led him out of danger leaves me hoping. He's coming home. From Afghanistan to Hawaii and in a few days...HOME. If home is where the heart is, his heart will be home this year for Christmas--my empty nest will be full though I look on at my fledglings alone now. Looking forward with expectation seeing him face to face reminds me that "coming home" makes the emptiness of Elias' chair seem less empty. Anticipation of his homecoming offers HOPE in place of despair. 
     Excitement and expectation of meeting our new little Alice Madeline brightens the shadow of that forever empty chair yet the forsaken chair still remains. There's no possibility  that he will eventually "come home" and, though many precious others may come and go, no one can fill the void that death leaves behind. There's no escaping it. All one can do is just believe, as Chad reminded us, that there was a special homecoming celebration in heaven this year. In believing, we must remember with joyful acceptance that a chair in heaven no longer sits waiting for him to come home. He sits at a new table with his dad, Grandma, Frenchy, Aunt Dutch, and all those others who have gone before from this world. He may remember but he isn't missing us because he is forever HOME where his heart belongs. How could we ever wish to take that from him? 
      Though our hearts grieve, we hold on to hope...We remember with sad fondness but we look forward with joyful anticipation of yet another homecoming--our own--when room for one more is made to share in the heavenly feast. We will finally be HOME--the home where our hearts will always be.

REMEMBERING THE WAVES

     Since Phillip--the children's dad--died in January, the question of how I will be remembered has lingered heavy on my heart. I've watched my children and those who loved him most deal with losing him by remembering him--each one remembering different and/or similar aspects of his character and nature. And remembering his words--those words that shaped who he was and how he influenced them. I remember still a whole different set of memories and words through our relationship as husband and wife...and mom and dad to our kids. Those memories have left an imprint on each one of us that will never fade. So especially as my children have remembered him, I've wondered how they will remember me... How others will remember me... Will their memories be positive? Will they leave a lasting imprint? Or will those memories be here today and gone tomorrow?

      I look back on my own life journey--and I realize I am not the same person I was five years ago, 10 years ago, or 20 years ago... I'm certainly not the person I was 40 years ago... (Gee, I'm sounding old!) I remember those who have walked in and out of my life at different points along the way. If I never see them again, they will never know the person I am today and that hurts.     

     The truth of it has become evident in the last few weeks since my youngest son came to stay with me since he got out of the Marines. We haven't lived together since he was in junior high. I've realized we don't know each other very well. When we talk, he often relates and responds to the mom he knew as a boy. I'm not "her" anymore; he's not that little boy anymore either. So I'm not so sure how to relate to this man either... This man who went through much of his "becoming" years virtually without me... Who has served duty tours in Iraq and Afghanistan for the sake of his country... Who has opinions, values, beliefs, strengths, and hurts that I'm just learning about. So I have to wonder: if I died today, who would he remember?

     Given the chance to return to "back then," I would have done many things differently. If I understood then what I know now, I would have lived differently. I would have been stronger, braver, kinder. I would have given more love and less anger... More hope and less hurt... More grace and less judgement... More of the Jesus-Me and less of the World-Me.

     But, in reality, I'm left with only today--being the best "me" I can be today. I can only hope that the person I am today makes a deeper imprint than who I was in my yesterdays. Today, I'm living in grace and by grace. Today, I seek to see the "me" that Christ sees...His workmanship, created for a purpose--those "good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them." (EPHESIANS 2:10 ESV) Today, I strive to walk in His purpose. And that purpose is what I hope people remember most... 

     It took me so long to even begin to see myself as Christ sees me. I saw a mess--ugly, scarred, and imperfect. I lost all hope in the "me" I used to see. But today, I have hope because the Christ IN me is my Hope of Glory (See COLOSSIANS 1:27). He shows me who I am and what He wants me to do. My purpose is to give others that same hope by helping them see themselves as His workmanship--His masterpieces. And to show them that He made something beautiful. I want them to KNOW Him as their "Hope of Glory" and to be changed.

     If people remember anything about me, I would hope that those memories would point to the Christ in me. If they remember love, compassion, grace, beauty, or hope in me at all, they would know that it's the "Hope of Glory" in me and that they would know HIM. Philip Yancey wrote, "You can gauge the size of a ship that has passed out of sight by the huge wake it leaves behind." The bigger the ship, the bigger the waves that follow. I hope that my life today is big enough to leave big waves--not because of anything I say or do so much as because of Him in me. I pray that the waves that follow me are waves of Hope bringing about change in the lives that touch mine. 

BROKEN & SPILLED OUT

"But even if I am being poured out as a drink offering upon the sacrifice and service of your faith, I rejoice and share my joy with you all..." - Philippians 2:17 NASB

    She was an unwelcome guest. She entered the room even as protesting servants tried to hold her back. It was all she could do to walk in there...unwanted and uninvited by the host. She risked ridicule, shame, and even self-respect for she was a sinful woman, but she had a purpose. She saw Him, the invited guest of honor. Her eyes met His for a moment as she fell at His feet. At the sight of Him, tear flowed unchecked down her cheeks. No,not tears of shame, sorrow, or fear but rather tears of love and gratitude, believing that this Man would see her heart not just her sin. This man Jesus spoke a different kind of love to her than any man had ever spoken before and her life was changed. Grace brought her to this room. 
    Under the glare of the disapproving host, she broke open her most precious possession--an alabaster box filled with a rare expensive perfume worth at least a year's wages--and poured it over Jesus' feet. The sweet aroma filled the room as she bathed His feet. Overwhelmed with love for Him, her tears rained down mixing with the perfume on His feet. As she kissed His feet, she loosened her hair so it fell long and dried His feet with her hair...
     She had nothing else to give so she gave Him all she had: her treasured alabaster box and her tears, symbols of an even more precious gift. Out of the grace He had so lovingly given her, she poured out her broken life as an offering to Him with all the love she had. Her heart spilled out for the sake of Him... "Broken and spilled out for the love of You, Jesus..." 
     Jesus understood what no other could, "I tell you, her sins--and they are many --have been forgiven so she has shown Me much love..." (Luke 7:47 NLT)
     Jesus, too gave all that He had...for the love of us. He poured out His life as an offering so that we can live eternally. By grace, He fills us up with His love. In all that has been broken in my own life, He makes me whole and fills me with love and grace again and again. With the love and grace He pours into me, I pour into others. Sacrifice sometimes, yes. Difficult, yes. And often so exhausting... But worth it? You bet! I empty myself into another with all He has given me. As I see His love and grace fill that other and empower her to pour herself into yet another, I am again filled to overflowing and ready to pour myself out to yet another...and another. In emptying myself into others, I pour my life out as an offering to Him for He has forgiven much in me too...
     "Broken and spilled out just for love of You, Jesus. My most precious treasure lavished on Thee. Broken and spilled out and poured at Your feet. In sweet abandon, let me be spilled out and used up for Thee." (Gloria Gaither)
     

"BROKEN AND SPILLED OUT" as performed by Steven Curtis Chapman. 

Lyrics by Gloria Gaither, music by Bill George. 1984 Gaither Music.

I HEAR VOICES....

     I hear voices....No, not THOSE kinds of voices! (At least those aren't the ones I'm talking about today...) I hear voices--we all have them. Voices that speak truth and encouragement. Voices that lift up and push onward. Voices that impact our lives so strongly that we will never be the same. Whose voices are they? For me, they are the people in my life who matter most... Each one for the individual unique things they bring to my life and hopefully what I bring to theirs too somehow. Their voices stay with me, making me stronger, and laying my paths straight. And sometimes even holding me back or barring my way when I try to get ahead of myself...or God.

     I hear the voice of PERSISTENCE--Chad...One of the single most influential voices in my life. Why? Because he believed and persisted in reminding me, "There's a reason you are here." And he helped me find that reason.

     I hear voices of my PAST, PRESENT, and FUTURE--my children: Brittany, Mikey, Andy, Elias, Zachary, and Kaci. And my newest plus-kids--Larry and Megan. Each of them fill my life and give me strength in different and unique ways, adding dimension with laughter, an unexplainable kind of love, so much joy, and blessed memories of good times and hard times. They remind me that through it all, they still need me...even when I'm not so perfect. And I need to be needed. I hope they realize how much I need them too.

      I hear voices of HOPE--women walking through their own struggles but making each other strong as they share their experiences, their encouragement, their laughter, and their tears. They are the living example of the strengthening strands in that 3-ply cord, each one making the other stronger together as they press on toward God's goal.

     I hear voices of WISDOM that have proven true to me again and again--Jeff M., Tom, Paul, Lori, Latimer, and Susan. Though they are not constant, their words rise up to remembrance when wisdom is needed most, pointing me in the way I should go.

     I hear voices of SURVIVAL both near and far--Geana, Amy, Emily, and Mary. Their perseverance in the midst of formidable circumstances amazes me. They are overcomers, reminding me that I can overcome too--I can make it. Their stories prove that God IS able and ready to stand in our defense. 

     All of these voices build me up, shape me, and give me purpose...So I'm not ashamed to shout it from the rooftops, "I HEAR VOICES!" And through each one of them, God also speaks...Telling me that I am His...That "neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither my fears for today nor my worries about tomorrow, not even the powers of hell... No power in the sky above or in the earth below--indeed, nothing in all creation can ever separate me from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus..." (from Romans 8:38-39) The love of God that is revealed...HIS love revealed through each of these voices. 

    

     

     

     

"FUELED AND AFLAME"

Hmmm... What fuels me? What keeps me going? Well.... 

     ...Anne's contagious laugh and Scottish admonition "Don't be cheeky!" because a year ago, the laugh was all too rare and faint--life was all too serious.

     ...Jessica's hard questions because I know that she's growing in all the hard places and in asking, she reminds us all that we too have had to grow in the hard places. 

     ...Jenna's insatiable hunger for more of God and her unbridled compassion for others because she is a living picture of "out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks."  

     ...Tamara's initiative to write down her own power verses and tell us about them because she knows now that she CAN. She is empowered by encouragement of others. 

     ...Melissa sharing what she read in her morning devotion because I know her determined dedication to those morning moments with God comes hard sometimes. But through it, she has risen above her struggles. 

     ...Rebecca's randomness simply stating that God makes her happy because I know she is persevering and wading through the hard stuff to get a glimpse of Him. She CHOOSES to rejoice. 

     ...Vera's phone calls asking me to pray for yet another member of her family because she is so committed to bring them ALL to Jesus no matter what it takes. She audaciously believes God will make it happen. And one by one, two by two, they ARE coming to Him.

     ...Random dinners with Jolissa because in reaching out to friends, she is learning to cope with loneliness and to be a positive presence wherever God takes her. 

     ..."Proud Mama" pictures and posts from Angelica & Carissa because I know their love for their little ones empower them as they strive to be the best moms they can be--even if they have to do it alone.

     ...The list could go on and on--these women who have touched my life so deeply. THEY keep my flame burning as I can witness what God has done and is doing in each one of their lives and realize how far they've come from where they started. I am fueled, not because of what I've done or haven't done but because of who HE is. These broken, beautiful ladies make me want to be a better teacher and a better woman--to be certain that I "readily recognize what He wants" from me and to quickly respond. The women of HOPE continually remind me that I'm not just a teacher--I am also still a student of life and faith and friendship. As I teach them, they teach me even more. Living, learning, and teaching HOPE was not in my own original plans, but HE knew what was needed. And He brought us all together in one place. We walk together on this journey of hope--not one ahead of the other, but side by side holding each other up and pushing each other onward... As we place our lives before Him, "each of us finds our meaning and function as part of His body" and I am filled to overflowing with the fuel to seek Him more and more and to do whatever He wants me to do.

"So here's what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life--your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life--and place it before God as an offering. EMBRACING WHAT GOD DOES FOR YOU is the best thing you can do for Him. Don't be so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even thinking. Instead, fix your attention on God. You will changed from the inside out. Readily recognize what He wants from you, and quickly respond to it. Unlike the culture aroudn you, always dragging you down to its level of immaturity, God brings the best out of you, develops well-formed maturity in you.

In this way we are like various parts of a human body. Each part gets its meaning from the body as a whole, not the other way around. The body we're talking about is Christ's body of chosen people. Each of us finds our meaning and function as a part of His body. But as a chopped-off finger or cut-off toe we wouldn't amount to much, would we? So since we find ourselves fashioned into all these excellently formed and marvelously functioning parts in Christ's body, let's just go ahead and BE WHAT WE WERE MADE TO BE, without enviously or pridefully comparing ourselves with each other, or trying to be something we aren't.

I'm speaking to you of deep gratitude for all that God has given me, and especially as I have responsibilities in relation to you.  Living then, as every one of you does, in PURE GRACE,

it's important that you not misinterpret yourselves as people who are bringing this goodness to God. No, God brings it all to you. The only accurate way to understand ourselves is by what God is and by what He does for us, not by what we are and what we do for Him.

If you preach, just preach God's Message, nothing else; if you help, just help, don't take over; if you teach, stick to your teaching; if you give encouraging guidance, be careful that you don't get bossy; if you're put in charge, don't manipulate; if you're called to give aid to people in distress, keep your eyes open and be quick to respond; if you work with the disadvantaged, don't let yourself get irritated with them or depressed by them. Keep a smile on your face.

Love from the center of who you are;

don't fake it.

Run for dear life from evil; hold on for dear life to good. Be good friends who LOVE DEEPLY; practice playing second fiddle. BLESS your enemies; no cursing under your breath. LAUGH with your happy friends when they're happy; SHARE TEARS when they're down. Get along with each other; don't be stuck-up. Make friends with nobodies; don't be the great somebody.

Don't burn out; 

keep yourselves fueled and aflame. 

Be alert servants of the Master, cheerfully expectant. Don't quit in hard times, pray all the harder. Help needy Christians; be inventive in hospitality.

Don't hit back; DISCOVER BEAUTY IN EVERYONE. If you've got it in you, get along with everybody. Don't insist on getting even; that's not for you to do. "I'll do the judging," says God. "I'll take care of it."

Our Scriptures tell us that if you see your enemy hungry, go buy that person lunch, or if he's thirsty, get him a drink. Your generosity will surprise him with goodness. Don't let evil get the best of you; get the best of evil by doing good. --  ROMANS 12 The Message

 .

BEING HAPPY...

"For I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether wellfed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do ALL this through Him who gives me strength." - Philippians 4:12-13

     He answered, "God's Bible says no worry so I will be HAPPY IN JESUS." Those words washed over those of us in the room with him, almost in disbelief. The question: "How do you feel about that?" In the weeks preceding, his life had literally been turned upside down. He had every reason to be UN-happy in Jesus by human standards. 
    You see, on Father's Day 1986 my father-in-law Arnett Bennett collapsed in seizures as he fellowshipped with some of his church family. We had just returned home after being out of town for the weekend when we got the call. "Sheri, Arnett is in the hospital. He's having seizures. They think he has a brain tumor and they want to send him Parkland Hospital in Dallas." Those words fell heavy....Cancer invaded our home.
     Arnett went to Parkland Hospital for brain surgery to remove an orange-sized tumor. This wasn't his first overwhelming obstacle--my father-in-law had lived a life of adversity. Fever made Arnett deaf as a toddler in a world (the 1930's) that saw handicap as a mental disability. Arnett's parents didn't--they sent him to the Texas State School for the Deaf where he learned to communicate and function as any other person. He learned early in life not to let obstacles be unsurmountable mountains. He married, divorced, and raised his three boys with the help of his mother. He worked hard his entire adult life in spite of people who believed he wasn't useful. He supported his own family against the odds. And now this...
     When he regained consciousness after surgery, Arnett was told with the help of an interpreter that he had a malignant tumor that could not be completely removed and his condition was terminal. The family was told that his prognosis was 6 to 18 months. He accepted that without question. He was unable to move his left side. His pickup keys were taken away from him due to recurring seizures. And he was moved from his home into ours--a small two bedroom already cramped with three small children--before he even came home from the hospital. For weeks, I drove him from Cross Plains to Abilene every day for radiation treatments and physical therapy. He suffered from violent headaches, loss of hair, radiation sickness, and extreme exhaustion. Still, he accepted it all without question. 
     This day, we sat in the social worker's office at West Texas Rehab after he had finished his physical therapy to close out his services there. She was bound by profession to make sure he understood what was happening. I had interpreted for him so often in the hospital with doctors, but I was by no means a professional--I was still learning myself. For this, we made certain there was an official interpreter present so we were sure he understood everything. Jerry Drennan was one of his closest friends from South 11th & Willis Church of Christ--he knew Arnett well and had walked through the past weeks with all of us. 
     The caseworker asked Arnett if he had any questions about his illness, his treatment, and what the future held. He had two...First, what did the word "malignant" mean? And second, what did "terminal" mean? His questions punched us in the gut. The words had been bandied about fairly often. We thought he understood--he never asked before. But the deaf vocabulary is more limited--they don't use 12 words for the same meaning. We had never actually said the word "cancer" to him--malignancy seemed less abrasive I suppose. The caseworker, Jerry, and I sat dumbfounded for a moment. The caseworker simply explained what the words meant while Jerry interpreted. He had cancer and he would die probably within 6-18 month--a truth that would hit most people hard. When asked asked how he felt, he didn't even waiver, "God's Bible says no worry, so I will BE HAPPY IN JESUS."
     He lived 3 1/2 years with us. He ate heartily. He taught my children sign language. He rejoiced when Elias was born. He walked to town every day, knocking on every store and business window and going in to hug people and visit, equipped with pen, notepad, and a smile. He went to the bank and everyone called out his name and waved. He went to the local soda fountain or cafe and enjoyed a hot cup of tea, always greeting everyone with a smile and a wave. He went every weekend to spend time with his church family and attend deaf services at S. 11th & Willis. At home, he read his Bible faithfully and studied. He read through all my hymnals and songbooks and found his favorite... He would lay his hands on the piano when I played and sang it for him--my own respite from the cancer in my house. He couldn't hear it but he felt it, and he would smile. He was the epitome of those words..."BE HAPPY IN JESUS." Those have been some of the most powerful words I've ever heard in my entire life and I often remember them when I'm drowning in my own struggles.
     He passed away five days before my youngest was born. Cancer stole his life but it didn't steal his joy, even in the last moments. I had always wondered how he remained so happy when he was losing so much... At his service (and in the beginning stages of labor pains), the secret of his happiness found its way into my heart as I sang that country & western hymn for him one last time...
    

"I don't know about tomorrow, I just live from day to day.

I don't borrow from its sunshine for its skies may turn to gray.

I don't worry o'er the future for I know what Jesus said,

And today, I'll walk beside Him for He knows what lies ahead.

Many things about tomorrow I don't seem to understand, 

But I know Who holds tomorrow and I know He holds my hand."

Composed & written by Forest Stamphill