I went to a different church on Sunday because I stayed the entire weekend in Walled Lake (huge deal for me). I met a couple in July who attend this church and had wanted to check it out. The coincidence is that the church is Ridgewood, a church planted by former members of Riverview.
Ridgewood holds the service in a nice community center. When I entered, I noticed people get a little bit more dressed up then at Riverview--not as many jeans. I noted the use of Macs, the coffee brewing, and they handouts for the message. Ahhhhh...just like home. But just before I sat down, a stocky, older man suddenly appeared. He welcomed me and introduced himself as Jeff Moore. "Ohhhh," I said. "my name is Holly and I usually attend Riverview." He was really excited and asked how things were going there. It felt good to have that common bond with someone I didn't know but had heard about.
After we finished talking, I sat down. A woman approached me with this permanent looking smile on her face. Warmly, she welcomed me and asked my name. I gave mine, went into the story of how I was named (she asked) and we laughed. Then she said her name was Noelle Carole. Hmmmm...born on Christmas? Yes, 5:05 a.m. More laughs. Then the music started and I was surprised. No lead male singer. No lead acoustic guitar. Just a bass, electric guitar, drums, keyboards and four female singers. Now, I wasn't exactly sitting in judgment but I tend to have an ear for these things from when I managed the Cameltoens. Politely--they needed more practice but they were still good, playing from the heart. I missed seeing Paul and Dan in the lead, though. I also missed the whole Riverview band--the 800 members whose names I don't even know but I'm used to. I quickly swallowed these thoughts, died to these thoughts and jumped into the message.
Jeff is so awesome. He really cracked me up. He wore a shirt and tie (can't wait to see my pastors in a shirt and tie) and followed the handout exactly. I noticed something else interesting. He wasn't exactly just teaching to a crowd. He spoke directly to people and they spoke directly back. It was almost like a conversation. I've always been amazed at how Riverview tries to still keep that level of intimacy with the sheep by calling on people by name, etc. I think Riverview does a good job of this, knowing a lot of the 1 million who go there. This church had the perfect environment for it. I liked it.
After the message, we sang again, a couple of songs I didn't know. This one woman singing on stage was just going to town in her dance moves and singing. You could tell she was really in love with Jesus. She was also the lead lady I guess because she was the one who led prayers. Her prayers were awesome. They were direct and hit the nail right on the head. She didn't do a lot of repeating and didn't use the normal "justs" "God" and "Lord" over and over. Example: God, I just want to ask you to just help us, Lord. Help us in living in this world, God and help us to just, connect with you, Lord.
Anyhow, she was really good. After the singing, Jeff talked about the small groups they had been breaking up into and that every member had an appointment to meet with their gift counselor to look at what spiritual gifts they possessed or areas they needed help. I thought that was pretty cool, too. After the service, I met Ron Windmiller and we spoke for awhile. He wanted to know if I thought I would ever come back. Definitely! But I explained how I couldn't really rip myself from Riverview. He laughed and said he completely understood.
Driving away, I thought about my church. I really missed it. I never, ever, ever thought I could feel this way about church: the people, the atmosphere, the music, the coffee I don't drink, the messages, and even my pastors. It all gets me to God and propels me through the week. Ahhhh....home.
Monday, October 25, 2004
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
Signs
I watched Signs last night with Krissie. She spent the whole time freaking out about the aliens. I spent the whole time thinking about how the movie wasn't about aliens at all.
The first time I saw it, really freaked me out. I saw it with the boys at the Star Southfield. Chris Buatti screamed like a baby when the alien walks into the ally so naturally, I have to laugh at that part now. There was also this woman who talked to the screen the entire time. "No you didn't!" "Don't you go in there!" "You best be gettin in the basement!" Slightly annoying but still funny. I think I just watched the movie as a film student. Critiquing it, ripping it apart, noting the balance of each shot and the likeness to Hitchcock. But it has become a whole new movie to me now, one of my favorites.
It is not about aliens. It is about our struggle with faith, with a God we never see, with a God who we don't always view as just. The first time I really thought about the movie differently was the second time I ever went to Riverview. I actually have a name for the second time I ever went to Riverview: the closing deal. I walked in the first time and was like, oh okay. Whatever. But the second time, this crazy guy came walking out with an Apple computer of all things. He talked about Christian faith, showed a clip from Signs, and had me tearing up to Johnny Cash's Hurt. What a cool church. The clip from Signs really made me think about how I view life, coincidence or fate?
Can it be some of both? I was humming a song from like 1994 the other day. I hopped in my car and hit scan....the song was on. Coincidence or God trying to make me smile and laugh with Him? Does God really have time for little inside jokes with me? I might be wrong but I think he does.
The end of the movie is the best. It really shows in a compressed sort of way, how we are given clues throughout our lives, how we are not alone. The little times we share with God, big times we share with God. It makes me just love Him so much. Signs is definitely a vehicle to get me to God. He is for us, He is with us.
The first time I saw it, really freaked me out. I saw it with the boys at the Star Southfield. Chris Buatti screamed like a baby when the alien walks into the ally so naturally, I have to laugh at that part now. There was also this woman who talked to the screen the entire time. "No you didn't!" "Don't you go in there!" "You best be gettin in the basement!" Slightly annoying but still funny. I think I just watched the movie as a film student. Critiquing it, ripping it apart, noting the balance of each shot and the likeness to Hitchcock. But it has become a whole new movie to me now, one of my favorites.
It is not about aliens. It is about our struggle with faith, with a God we never see, with a God who we don't always view as just. The first time I really thought about the movie differently was the second time I ever went to Riverview. I actually have a name for the second time I ever went to Riverview: the closing deal. I walked in the first time and was like, oh okay. Whatever. But the second time, this crazy guy came walking out with an Apple computer of all things. He talked about Christian faith, showed a clip from Signs, and had me tearing up to Johnny Cash's Hurt. What a cool church. The clip from Signs really made me think about how I view life, coincidence or fate?
Can it be some of both? I was humming a song from like 1994 the other day. I hopped in my car and hit scan....the song was on. Coincidence or God trying to make me smile and laugh with Him? Does God really have time for little inside jokes with me? I might be wrong but I think he does.
The end of the movie is the best. It really shows in a compressed sort of way, how we are given clues throughout our lives, how we are not alone. The little times we share with God, big times we share with God. It makes me just love Him so much. Signs is definitely a vehicle to get me to God. He is for us, He is with us.
I just want to say...
I luv my Dell. She has been very good to me. She will be even better to me when we get those $200 wireless speakers....
Squares
I went square dancing Friday night. Somehow, I missed out on this wonderful American pastime. We laughed, hysterically, all night long. This feeling kept coming over me, though. It was such an intense, yet peaceful, fun feeling. It was my grandparents.
My grandpa and grandma Beavers used to square dance ALL the time. My grandfather loved it. I even aquired his square dancing certificate and my grandmother's square dancing dress. I have seen the pictures of them, standing there smiling in their gear. I have the newspaper articles grandpa cut out, one was a picture of them in the massive crowd, twirling away. I thought about all this while I danced my little heart away. The feeling they must have had for the dancing, the amusement, each other...it filled me up almost to the point of tears. It was almost like being out on the golf course they built, surrounded my them, their dreams.
I made a decision to have a round of square dancing at my wedding reception someday. I do not care what anyone else thinks or says about it. Ed and Arlene will be honored with the dance and I want nothing more than to share a dance with my grandparents.
My grandpa and grandma Beavers used to square dance ALL the time. My grandfather loved it. I even aquired his square dancing certificate and my grandmother's square dancing dress. I have seen the pictures of them, standing there smiling in their gear. I have the newspaper articles grandpa cut out, one was a picture of them in the massive crowd, twirling away. I thought about all this while I danced my little heart away. The feeling they must have had for the dancing, the amusement, each other...it filled me up almost to the point of tears. It was almost like being out on the golf course they built, surrounded my them, their dreams.
I made a decision to have a round of square dancing at my wedding reception someday. I do not care what anyone else thinks or says about it. Ed and Arlene will be honored with the dance and I want nothing more than to share a dance with my grandparents.
Monday, October 11, 2004
When people die, things get ugly...
I've noticed how manners quickly fly out the window when a loved one dies. I wonder why this is. I'm sure it is something simple but I don't understand it. I will try to explain what I mean.
My uncle and I had a conversation at the hospital a week before his mother died.
Me: I heard anyone can speak at Grandma's funeral.
Uncle: Yes.
Me: I would like to speak.
Uncle: Your name did come up as a speaker but really, Holly, I don't think you can do it.
Me: Ummmm (feelings getting hurt)....why not?
Uncle: (kind of an abrasive person): I think you would be too emotional.
Me: Well, I don't think you know me very well.
Uncle: That's true but I just don't think you are up to it (case closed).
Me: I sat with this woman until 3 am Friday night and 1 am last night. I'm up to it and I'm going to do it (case never closed).
Uncle: okay...if you think you can...but the pastor will need a copy of what you wrote in case you can't finish.
Me: (knowing I'm not giving the pastor anything before hand) Sure, whatever. Thank you for the opportunity (smile).
Now, my point is we have two people with two different agendas. Both of us wanted our way. I wasn't going to give in and this almost caused a problem. I couldn't see it at the time, however. Things got a little worse after Grandma died. The day before her viewing, I felt push back from several relatives wanting to know what I was going to say. It made me question whether I was doing the right thing or not. I almost backed out but I already had the thing written. I was going to go for it.
After I was finished, my uncle came to me and said, "wow, Holly. I'm impressed. I'm really impressed." "Thanks but really, I was inspired."
My point to this whole dumb post is that now Jeff's mom is dead and there are hurt feelings all over the place. Everyone has a different agenda about the funeral. Some don't want a big deal, some want the speeches, the videos, the photos, the church, the whole sha-bang. I wish everyone could win in these situations but people don't always get nicer in their grief. I guess the one good thing is the person who left it all behind. They don't have to stick around to see the hurt feelings and bitchiness. Its sad. Really sad.
I think the same can be said for weddings, too.
My uncle and I had a conversation at the hospital a week before his mother died.
Me: I heard anyone can speak at Grandma's funeral.
Uncle: Yes.
Me: I would like to speak.
Uncle: Your name did come up as a speaker but really, Holly, I don't think you can do it.
Me: Ummmm (feelings getting hurt)....why not?
Uncle: (kind of an abrasive person): I think you would be too emotional.
Me: Well, I don't think you know me very well.
Uncle: That's true but I just don't think you are up to it (case closed).
Me: I sat with this woman until 3 am Friday night and 1 am last night. I'm up to it and I'm going to do it (case never closed).
Uncle: okay...if you think you can...but the pastor will need a copy of what you wrote in case you can't finish.
Me: (knowing I'm not giving the pastor anything before hand) Sure, whatever. Thank you for the opportunity (smile).
Now, my point is we have two people with two different agendas. Both of us wanted our way. I wasn't going to give in and this almost caused a problem. I couldn't see it at the time, however. Things got a little worse after Grandma died. The day before her viewing, I felt push back from several relatives wanting to know what I was going to say. It made me question whether I was doing the right thing or not. I almost backed out but I already had the thing written. I was going to go for it.
After I was finished, my uncle came to me and said, "wow, Holly. I'm impressed. I'm really impressed." "Thanks but really, I was inspired."
My point to this whole dumb post is that now Jeff's mom is dead and there are hurt feelings all over the place. Everyone has a different agenda about the funeral. Some don't want a big deal, some want the speeches, the videos, the photos, the church, the whole sha-bang. I wish everyone could win in these situations but people don't always get nicer in their grief. I guess the one good thing is the person who left it all behind. They don't have to stick around to see the hurt feelings and bitchiness. Its sad. Really sad.
I think the same can be said for weddings, too.
Friday, October 08, 2004
Ooooo...
From Snopes.com:
Many of the signs and billboards in the Orlando area were no match for Hurricane Charley. However, one billboard resisted the 100-mile per hour winds of the eye wall of the storm. While the billboard still stands, the advertisement that was there when Hurricane Charley hit was peeled back to reveal an earlier message. When the sun rose the next morning on Sand Lake Road in Orlando the words on the billboard clearly read:
WE NEED TO TALK
GOD.
Many of the signs and billboards in the Orlando area were no match for Hurricane Charley. However, one billboard resisted the 100-mile per hour winds of the eye wall of the storm. While the billboard still stands, the advertisement that was there when Hurricane Charley hit was peeled back to reveal an earlier message. When the sun rose the next morning on Sand Lake Road in Orlando the words on the billboard clearly read:
WE NEED TO TALK
GOD.
Thursday, October 07, 2004
Stuff
"But now times are rough and I've got too much stuff, Can't explain the likes of me..." ~Jimmy Buffett One Particular Harbor
Yes, I have way too much stuff. My roommate and I have a plan to reduce the amount of stuff we have by 25%. Of course, as soon as that stuff is gone, new stuff will most likely be bought. There is the big sale at the Limited this week...
Yes, I have way too much stuff. My roommate and I have a plan to reduce the amount of stuff we have by 25%. Of course, as soon as that stuff is gone, new stuff will most likely be bought. There is the big sale at the Limited this week...
How odd...
DSmit (Krissie's brother): G-d Damn It! The bed frame doesn't fit through the door.
Papa Smith (Krissie's dad; atheist): I have told you time and time again, don't swear.
Me: Wow...so...saying GD offends you? Even though you don't believe in Him?
Papa Smith: That's kind of weird isn't it...but swearing is swearing and only ignorant people swear because they can't think of a better word to use.
Me: Oh...now it makes so much sense.
(23 minutes later....)
Papa Smith: G-d Damn It!
Me: (Gasp) What did you just say???
Papa Smith (smiling): Nothing dear. Just dropped something on my toe is all.
Me: Is it broken?
Papa Smith: Don't think so.
Me: Thank GOD!
Papa Smith laughs.
Papa Smith (Krissie's dad; atheist): I have told you time and time again, don't swear.
Me: Wow...so...saying GD offends you? Even though you don't believe in Him?
Papa Smith: That's kind of weird isn't it...but swearing is swearing and only ignorant people swear because they can't think of a better word to use.
Me: Oh...now it makes so much sense.
(23 minutes later....)
Papa Smith: G-d Damn It!
Me: (Gasp) What did you just say???
Papa Smith (smiling): Nothing dear. Just dropped something on my toe is all.
Me: Is it broken?
Papa Smith: Don't think so.
Me: Thank GOD!
Papa Smith laughs.
Tuesday, October 05, 2004
My Sweet Lord
I'm sitting in Mr. Pita listening to My Sweet Lord by George Harrison...waiting for a co-worker or two to pass by and look at me funny...wondering if I care...wondering if I care about work at all. I feel a push, I've felt it for awhile now. Should I still be at Valassis? Should I still be in the Detroit area? I like it here but less and less. I look forward to going to Lansing every weekend. I dread going back to D-town on Sunday night. Still, I'm not going to make a move, yet. I'm going to stay put for at least a year or two, though in a year or two I plan on moving slightly closer...Kensington area, maybe. A place of my own maybe?
Dunno....
Dunno....
Memorial
My grandmother is gone. I'm not even sure where she, either. I really believed she was in heaven but now, I think maybe she doesn't go to heaven until we all go to heaven. I'm a little mixed up but will bring it up in my bible study tomorrow.
I read the following at her funeral:
"I knew my grandmother for only 28 and a half years—a small fraction of her life. After all, she was 65 when I was born. I think about all the years she lived and admit I can’t quite grasp it. I’ve been looking at old photos of Grandma and what I see is a young woman, younger than I am, married, standing with her first born and her fine-looking husband. She had her whole life ahead of her and most of us weren’t even a thought in her mind. She was a foxy young thing and loved to date. We all know the story about when she was dating one guy but another showed up to take her out. Emma stalled the guy at the door so Grandma could sneak out of the window to meet up with the other dude.
Of course, all of that was over the night she and her parents went to a dance. As the band played, she caught the eye of a certain saxophone player. She knew then he would be the one she wanted to spend her life with. And boom, we all entered the picture.
I remember the visits to the trailer. A few memories from when I was little and stayed with her were:
the little boxes of cereal
Hill-billy Bread
Bluebird OJ out of the little can
the lava lamp
her photo albums
riding in circles for hours with my tri-cycle in her garage
Cory and I playing with the doll clothes Grandma made us
Chipper
Going to the depot for Superman ice cream
And the giant picture of Jesus watching the United Nations building
I remember the way she would worry too much. If I went a hair too close to the road, if I drove a golf cart, if there was a strange car up at the clubhouse. Sometimes she freaked out.
But I also recall her our on her front porch, always waving good-bye to people as they drove away.
My view of grandma changed when I started working at the clubhouse in 1994. There was a different side to her, a saucy side. Yes, still a worrier but we began teasing each other. We would trade little witty remarks back and forth, she always outwitting me. I began to have fun with the lady.
The best thing for Grandma was moving to the Marquette. She didn’t seem to worry as much which allowed her to be more playful. She loved to pick on me with that big smile. I would say, “If you don’t be nice to me, I’m going to leave.” “You promise?” she would say. Sometimes when I would go to see her, I would knock on the door. Silence on the other side and then….a knock back. So I would knock again….silence….and then a knock back. Grandma, let me in!
She was worried about me, though. When are you going to get married? Who are you going to marry? I would tell her, you just want another party to go to, someplace you can dance. Again, that big smile would appear. Maybe you should get yourself a saxophone player like I did. A funny thing I noticed about Grandma was she would always ask you to repeat yourself and I know sometimes it was because she wanted to hear the joke or the compliment twice. She loved to flirt. I enjoyed my visits to the Marquette. We would visit for awhile, she would beg me to stay longer, give me a long hug and then wave to me from her window as I drove away.
I really envied her. She had so much fun in her last season of life. So much fun, she just kept extending that season over and over. She learned how to use the computer, how to e-mail, and how to IM people at 12:30 in the morning. She loved Bingo, cards… men. Yes, she found love, a couple times, and got herself a few boyfriends. But besides harassing Grandma, I loved to dance with grandma. I danced with her all night at Kami’s wedding and she was the last one on the dance floor at Cory’s. Couldn’t get her to go to bed. She didn’t dance much at Greg’s reception but I tried to get as many in as I could. Because as much as Grandma and I looked forward to the day when she could dance with me at my wedding, I feel like we both kind of knew it wasn’t going to happen.
A couple of Sundays ago, I went to see Grandma at Ingham Medical. “How you doing, Grandma?” “Fair,” was usually the reply but this time I got “tired.” She always teased me about my living arrangements. According to her I “move too much”. But now I had my chance to tease her. “Grandma, you keep moving on me! First Lansing General, then Sparrow, now here. Are you trying to lose me?” She smiled that big smile of hers, “Is it working?” Then, we discussed how our relationship had changed over the years. “You were kind of strict and mean, Grandma,” I teased her. She smiled, “Was I?” “Oh yeah, I like you a lot better now.” “You, too” she teased.
Looking at pictures and thinking back to this past year…yeah…it is hard for me to believe she is really gone. But don’t cry for her. Cry for the loss but not for her because I’ll admit, it is sad to see her go. I miss her a great deal and feel a void in my life. But she in experiencing the coolest thing ever. She gets to hang out with Jesus and God which is pretty awesome. So do not cry for her. Cry for your loss, but not for her.
I will honor my grandmother. I will share her with my children. I will show them that picture of her when she was twenty-something, having no idea where her life was going to take her. But I will also show them a picture of her when she was 92, so full of life and still living it as if she were 22. After all, when I asked her how old she was after her last birthday, she said, 29. I said, what are you dyslexic or something. She just smiled and said, well next year, I’ll be 39, and then 49, and then 59…she loved every age she lived. I ask that we all do this because it’s scary. It is difficult to embrace each season of life. I am also asking all of us to hold on to each other, after this day and not to drift apart. Our matriarch is gone but I beg all of us to get together as often as we can even if once or twice a year. Cherish each other as she cherished each one of us.
As for Grandma, it is safe to say she has gone home now. She is full of life again and she is sitting at a table in the biggest dance hall she has ever seen. The music is beginning to play, her feet are tapping in time, her eyes are wide and that big grin is on her face. Just as she gets to her feet, a certain saxophone player catches her eye. She smiles that big smile to him. Then she begins to say hello to all the people she had to say good-bye to so long ago, all of the people she once mourned will surround her in love. And we will get our chance someday when it is our turn to say hello to her again."
I feel like I kind of lied a little...about her being in heaven and all. It may not be a big deal to most but to me it is a huge deal. I need to get this somewhat figured out.
After the funeral, my three cousins, my uncle, Joey, my dad and my step-mom went out to the golf course. It was so much fun being out there, trying to soak up all that my grandparents built (and some I actually built!).
I read the following at her funeral:
"I knew my grandmother for only 28 and a half years—a small fraction of her life. After all, she was 65 when I was born. I think about all the years she lived and admit I can’t quite grasp it. I’ve been looking at old photos of Grandma and what I see is a young woman, younger than I am, married, standing with her first born and her fine-looking husband. She had her whole life ahead of her and most of us weren’t even a thought in her mind. She was a foxy young thing and loved to date. We all know the story about when she was dating one guy but another showed up to take her out. Emma stalled the guy at the door so Grandma could sneak out of the window to meet up with the other dude.
Of course, all of that was over the night she and her parents went to a dance. As the band played, she caught the eye of a certain saxophone player. She knew then he would be the one she wanted to spend her life with. And boom, we all entered the picture.
I remember the visits to the trailer. A few memories from when I was little and stayed with her were:
the little boxes of cereal
Hill-billy Bread
Bluebird OJ out of the little can
the lava lamp
her photo albums
riding in circles for hours with my tri-cycle in her garage
Cory and I playing with the doll clothes Grandma made us
Chipper
Going to the depot for Superman ice cream
And the giant picture of Jesus watching the United Nations building
I remember the way she would worry too much. If I went a hair too close to the road, if I drove a golf cart, if there was a strange car up at the clubhouse. Sometimes she freaked out.
But I also recall her our on her front porch, always waving good-bye to people as they drove away.
My view of grandma changed when I started working at the clubhouse in 1994. There was a different side to her, a saucy side. Yes, still a worrier but we began teasing each other. We would trade little witty remarks back and forth, she always outwitting me. I began to have fun with the lady.
The best thing for Grandma was moving to the Marquette. She didn’t seem to worry as much which allowed her to be more playful. She loved to pick on me with that big smile. I would say, “If you don’t be nice to me, I’m going to leave.” “You promise?” she would say. Sometimes when I would go to see her, I would knock on the door. Silence on the other side and then….a knock back. So I would knock again….silence….and then a knock back. Grandma, let me in!
She was worried about me, though. When are you going to get married? Who are you going to marry? I would tell her, you just want another party to go to, someplace you can dance. Again, that big smile would appear. Maybe you should get yourself a saxophone player like I did. A funny thing I noticed about Grandma was she would always ask you to repeat yourself and I know sometimes it was because she wanted to hear the joke or the compliment twice. She loved to flirt. I enjoyed my visits to the Marquette. We would visit for awhile, she would beg me to stay longer, give me a long hug and then wave to me from her window as I drove away.
I really envied her. She had so much fun in her last season of life. So much fun, she just kept extending that season over and over. She learned how to use the computer, how to e-mail, and how to IM people at 12:30 in the morning. She loved Bingo, cards… men. Yes, she found love, a couple times, and got herself a few boyfriends. But besides harassing Grandma, I loved to dance with grandma. I danced with her all night at Kami’s wedding and she was the last one on the dance floor at Cory’s. Couldn’t get her to go to bed. She didn’t dance much at Greg’s reception but I tried to get as many in as I could. Because as much as Grandma and I looked forward to the day when she could dance with me at my wedding, I feel like we both kind of knew it wasn’t going to happen.
A couple of Sundays ago, I went to see Grandma at Ingham Medical. “How you doing, Grandma?” “Fair,” was usually the reply but this time I got “tired.” She always teased me about my living arrangements. According to her I “move too much”. But now I had my chance to tease her. “Grandma, you keep moving on me! First Lansing General, then Sparrow, now here. Are you trying to lose me?” She smiled that big smile of hers, “Is it working?” Then, we discussed how our relationship had changed over the years. “You were kind of strict and mean, Grandma,” I teased her. She smiled, “Was I?” “Oh yeah, I like you a lot better now.” “You, too” she teased.
Looking at pictures and thinking back to this past year…yeah…it is hard for me to believe she is really gone. But don’t cry for her. Cry for the loss but not for her because I’ll admit, it is sad to see her go. I miss her a great deal and feel a void in my life. But she in experiencing the coolest thing ever. She gets to hang out with Jesus and God which is pretty awesome. So do not cry for her. Cry for your loss, but not for her.
I will honor my grandmother. I will share her with my children. I will show them that picture of her when she was twenty-something, having no idea where her life was going to take her. But I will also show them a picture of her when she was 92, so full of life and still living it as if she were 22. After all, when I asked her how old she was after her last birthday, she said, 29. I said, what are you dyslexic or something. She just smiled and said, well next year, I’ll be 39, and then 49, and then 59…she loved every age she lived. I ask that we all do this because it’s scary. It is difficult to embrace each season of life. I am also asking all of us to hold on to each other, after this day and not to drift apart. Our matriarch is gone but I beg all of us to get together as often as we can even if once or twice a year. Cherish each other as she cherished each one of us.
As for Grandma, it is safe to say she has gone home now. She is full of life again and she is sitting at a table in the biggest dance hall she has ever seen. The music is beginning to play, her feet are tapping in time, her eyes are wide and that big grin is on her face. Just as she gets to her feet, a certain saxophone player catches her eye. She smiles that big smile to him. Then she begins to say hello to all the people she had to say good-bye to so long ago, all of the people she once mourned will surround her in love. And we will get our chance someday when it is our turn to say hello to her again."
I feel like I kind of lied a little...about her being in heaven and all. It may not be a big deal to most but to me it is a huge deal. I need to get this somewhat figured out.
After the funeral, my three cousins, my uncle, Joey, my dad and my step-mom went out to the golf course. It was so much fun being out there, trying to soak up all that my grandparents built (and some I actually built!).
Monday, October 04, 2004
Ashes
Sunday afternoon--
Mom: I'm leaving for Alaska tomorrow at 5am.
Me: Yes, I know.
Mom: I know you don't want to talk about this right now but...
Me: What is it, mom (sounding slightly annoyed)?
Mom: well...if anything happens to me....
Me: ...yeah...?
Mom: Make sure the church (First Presbyterian) get these palm ashes in this tin for Palm Sunday.
Me: Are you kidding?
Mom: No...but there is more...
Me: What?
Mom: Make sure you take the bag of palm reeds to the church so they can be burned, too.
Me: So, this could potentially be our last conversation and it comes down to this...palms and ashes.
Mom: (in her cute way) Wellllll....I want to make sure they get them.
Me: Okay, Mom, when I hear you were eaten by a rabid penguin, I'll rush to your house, pass by the gazillion things in it, ignore the messages from the church demanding their palm ashes, and just drive this stuff over there. I can handle it.
Mom: Thank you.
Mom: I'm leaving for Alaska tomorrow at 5am.
Me: Yes, I know.
Mom: I know you don't want to talk about this right now but...
Me: What is it, mom (sounding slightly annoyed)?
Mom: well...if anything happens to me....
Me: ...yeah...?
Mom: Make sure the church (First Presbyterian) get these palm ashes in this tin for Palm Sunday.
Me: Are you kidding?
Mom: No...but there is more...
Me: What?
Mom: Make sure you take the bag of palm reeds to the church so they can be burned, too.
Me: So, this could potentially be our last conversation and it comes down to this...palms and ashes.
Mom: (in her cute way) Wellllll....I want to make sure they get them.
Me: Okay, Mom, when I hear you were eaten by a rabid penguin, I'll rush to your house, pass by the gazillion things in it, ignore the messages from the church demanding their palm ashes, and just drive this stuff over there. I can handle it.
Mom: Thank you.
Marriage
Sunday after church:
Lyndsay: Is God married?
Me: I don't think so.
L: But he has a son.
Me: But who is his son's mama?
L: Ummmm....Mary...but she was already married.
Me: Right so I don't think God is married.
L: But how do you know?
Me: I've never heard of him being married. Never read anything in the Bible about it.
L: Well, maybe he wants to keep his private life private.
Me: Maybe. I guess we'll find out someday. Could you imagine being married to God, though? You'd never have a fight!
L: You're confusing me now. Is he or isn't he married?
Me: Ask your Sunday School teacher.
Lyndsay: Is God married?
Me: I don't think so.
L: But he has a son.
Me: But who is his son's mama?
L: Ummmm....Mary...but she was already married.
Me: Right so I don't think God is married.
L: But how do you know?
Me: I've never heard of him being married. Never read anything in the Bible about it.
L: Well, maybe he wants to keep his private life private.
Me: Maybe. I guess we'll find out someday. Could you imagine being married to God, though? You'd never have a fight!
L: You're confusing me now. Is he or isn't he married?
Me: Ask your Sunday School teacher.
Sunday, September 26, 2004
Dying
It's weird waiting for someone to die. Half of you wants it to hurry up , the other half wants it to not happen. I know my grandmother is going to die. The doctor thinks it will be this week...the next few days. A total waiting game. Grandma has stumped us before but her organs are shutting down....slooooooowly. I watch her sleep, a deep sleep sometimes. Her breathing is shallow and she looks peaceful. Other times, she is snoring loudly and has a cross look on her face. She doesn't respond much, although you can tell when she is more awake than not. I see so many things when I look at her. I see a woman who was once my age, young, pretty, thin, funny...it scares me. I wonder how I will die sometimes. Will I live to be as old as she...do I want to? To be completely reliant on another person is a scary thought. Peeing, pooping, eating, swallowing...all of these become too hard so you either quit or do it at free will. My question: who will take care of me? Right now, Grandma is at my cousin Mike's in Michigan Center. Mike brought her here to care for her in her final days. My aunts are here helping and there is a nurse and doctor who come to check on Gram. The coolest part is that she isn't in a nursing home waiting to die. She will die surrounded by the people who care for her, in a loving home. I don't want to be a burden by any means but I truly wish for this as well.
Friday, September 17, 2004
Judgment Day
I fall short all the time. I want to please God and do what He has spelled out for me to. I've also changed my lifestyle a bit in order to give God glory as I become known to my friends and family as a Christian. I was thinking though...the things I gave up, was it right to do so? Am I trying to be a fundamentalist Christian? I decided that though at times I have been guilty of judging others and feeling self-righteous, the things I gave up were sins that were hurting me. No, it wasn't chocolate. I didn't give up beer. I will continue to shop for shoes. The things I gave up were not sacrifices to God. I just knew He was right. It isn't good to get wasted. It isn't good to get so close to someone other than the man I'm going to marry. I should never judge someone else because I fall short. I ask God to forgive me all the time. I am not above His grace.
After God forgives me, he erases it. My sin never happened in His eyes, right? So what is judgment Day? I will stand before God and give Him an account (Romans 14:10b). Ummmm....I'm slightly confused. If I'm forgiven, what will I stand in judgment of? All the things I forgot to ask forgiveness for (like how I just ended the last two sentences in prepositions--my father would have a fit and a half)? Will He be judging my heart to see if I truly accept Jesus as my savior? Hmmmm.....
After God forgives me, he erases it. My sin never happened in His eyes, right? So what is judgment Day? I will stand before God and give Him an account (Romans 14:10b). Ummmm....I'm slightly confused. If I'm forgiven, what will I stand in judgment of? All the things I forgot to ask forgiveness for (like how I just ended the last two sentences in prepositions--my father would have a fit and a half)? Will He be judging my heart to see if I truly accept Jesus as my savior? Hmmmm.....
Thursday, September 16, 2004
This Season
This season of my life is happy. However, I the next season, a darker season, is just around the corner. I do believe the darkness will have flecks of light poking through.
See, my grandma Beavers is sick. Actually, she isn't sick. She is old and her body is failing her. No one knows how long she'll live. They are moving her to a nursing home in St. John's. I wish it wasn't so far away but I'm going to visit as much as I can. I want to make her as happy and as comfortable as possible before her final season is over. Yes, I called Pastor Brooks. I haven't heard if he visited her or not but he said he would. My aunt was thankful I took the initiative but called the pastor of the church my grandma belongs to. So, poor gram may have gotten two friendly visits--a sure sign to her she's on her way out! It would be so like my grandma to defy us all and live another 10 years. I hope she does.
I love her to no end. She is the cutest, funniest, wittiest grandma I know. She used to call Joey "Joker" because we said his name too fast (Joe Corr). She flirts with everyone, too. Pretends she doesn't hear you when you give her a compliment so she can hear it twice. Her smile, her laugh even when she doesn't have her teeth in makes me smile, too. She loves to dance and I did get to dance with her at my cousin's wedding in April. She loves a good party, too. Always the last one up. On the 4th of July, she sat at the window intently watching the lake and fireworks with a smile on her face. It was 10:00 at night! She loves Lucy. I asked her if she thought it might be on tv when I saw her last Sunday. She got SO excited. "Do you think Lucy's on? Really?!" She loves to play Bingo and prides herself in all of her winnings. The best part is she learned how to use a computer and it was normal to get an instant message from her at 11:00 p.m. I need to miss her when she gone, though and enjoy her while she is still here.
Jeff's mom is in her 'final days', which could be a month for all I know. It is so sad, all of these funerals, all of this death in the air. Why would I be in a happy season?
I think I'm actually having a real relationship with God. It is the craziest thing in the world. I feel Him at night, in the morning, not so much at work but occasionally. A book I'm reading is helping me realize He isn't a distant uncle, He isn't the parent of the cool kids, He's so real to me. I hope this love affair lasts forever because yes, for the first time I feel like I'm falling in love all over again. You're cool, God. Really awesome.
See, my grandma Beavers is sick. Actually, she isn't sick. She is old and her body is failing her. No one knows how long she'll live. They are moving her to a nursing home in St. John's. I wish it wasn't so far away but I'm going to visit as much as I can. I want to make her as happy and as comfortable as possible before her final season is over. Yes, I called Pastor Brooks. I haven't heard if he visited her or not but he said he would. My aunt was thankful I took the initiative but called the pastor of the church my grandma belongs to. So, poor gram may have gotten two friendly visits--a sure sign to her she's on her way out! It would be so like my grandma to defy us all and live another 10 years. I hope she does.
I love her to no end. She is the cutest, funniest, wittiest grandma I know. She used to call Joey "Joker" because we said his name too fast (Joe Corr). She flirts with everyone, too. Pretends she doesn't hear you when you give her a compliment so she can hear it twice. Her smile, her laugh even when she doesn't have her teeth in makes me smile, too. She loves to dance and I did get to dance with her at my cousin's wedding in April. She loves a good party, too. Always the last one up. On the 4th of July, she sat at the window intently watching the lake and fireworks with a smile on her face. It was 10:00 at night! She loves Lucy. I asked her if she thought it might be on tv when I saw her last Sunday. She got SO excited. "Do you think Lucy's on? Really?!" She loves to play Bingo and prides herself in all of her winnings. The best part is she learned how to use a computer and it was normal to get an instant message from her at 11:00 p.m. I need to miss her when she gone, though and enjoy her while she is still here.
Jeff's mom is in her 'final days', which could be a month for all I know. It is so sad, all of these funerals, all of this death in the air. Why would I be in a happy season?
I think I'm actually having a real relationship with God. It is the craziest thing in the world. I feel Him at night, in the morning, not so much at work but occasionally. A book I'm reading is helping me realize He isn't a distant uncle, He isn't the parent of the cool kids, He's so real to me. I hope this love affair lasts forever because yes, for the first time I feel like I'm falling in love all over again. You're cool, God. Really awesome.
Monday, September 13, 2004
Passing By
Sometimes, God is persistent, brow-beating something into your head. Don't get me wrong. I don't think God is annoying. I wonder at Him all the time. This is what He is beating into my head right now: who am I passing by?
It started when I went to church by myself. Noel taught about the Samaritan woman (again but I always learn something new). Noel asked:
Where was the Samaritan woman going?
Answer: to the well
Where was she coming from?
Answer: the city
Where were the disciples going?
Answer: to the city
Where were they coming from?
Answer: the well
Conclusion: the disciples passed the woman and didn't give her a second thought. Is there anyone you are passing by?
The next day I went to the Presbyterian Church. Pastor Brooks spoke about bringing friends and loved ones to Christ by being persistent. Not annoying, but persistent.
Then, I was reading my Daily Bread thingy and for September 1st, it said, "we too must seek the lost, as Jesus did--and it doesn't take much effort. It's good to ask ourselves from time to time "how many friends do I have who are lost?"
Soooo....how many friends do I have who are lost? Who have I been passing by? Who could I take by the hand and lead to Jesus?
For the rest of my life I can ask these questions but I think right now there is a person Jesus wants me to reach out to: My 93-year-old grandma.
We often talk about reaching out to the young. My church targets the young because as a study says, there are more funerals than weddings in churches. But my grandma is nearing the end of her life. She has congestive heart failure. She is depressed. She is sharper than I am at times and just yesterday recounted a time her daughter went on a date and another time when my cousin Greg didn't pick his toys up before leaving her house. I do see her get confused and mixed up at times but she is the biggest joker. The nurse asks her name, my grandma says George Burns. But like I said, she is lonely and depressed. She became frustrated trying to open her milk and said, "I'm just so tired. Sometimes I want to give up but I don't want to leave my family."
Something struck me. Is she scared? She told me how much she missed my grandfather who died in 1977. She said she HOPED to see him in heaven. I asked her what she thought heaven was and she said she just wasn't sure. She hoped there was a heaven and she hoped grandpa was there. Hope? Well, yes, hope is good. God gave us hope. But what about her faith? All of this made me wonder: am I passing my grandma by?
I asked her if she had spoken to a minister or pastor recently and she said no. She hadn't been to
church in four years and the Laingsburg Methodist church had a new minister. I'm going to see if Pastor Brooks was available. My gut is to go with Pastor Brooks. He is the closest thing to a Methodist minister and I think she would be soothed by him. I know I couldn't send Noel in there. It would scare the crap out of my grandma.
I have to do something and fast because I feel like I'm so focused on the young people in my life, I'm passing the slower one, the oldest one, on my way to the city.
It started when I went to church by myself. Noel taught about the Samaritan woman (again but I always learn something new). Noel asked:
Where was the Samaritan woman going?
Answer: to the well
Where was she coming from?
Answer: the city
Where were the disciples going?
Answer: to the city
Where were they coming from?
Answer: the well
Conclusion: the disciples passed the woman and didn't give her a second thought. Is there anyone you are passing by?
The next day I went to the Presbyterian Church. Pastor Brooks spoke about bringing friends and loved ones to Christ by being persistent. Not annoying, but persistent.
Then, I was reading my Daily Bread thingy and for September 1st, it said, "we too must seek the lost, as Jesus did--and it doesn't take much effort. It's good to ask ourselves from time to time "how many friends do I have who are lost?"
Soooo....how many friends do I have who are lost? Who have I been passing by? Who could I take by the hand and lead to Jesus?
For the rest of my life I can ask these questions but I think right now there is a person Jesus wants me to reach out to: My 93-year-old grandma.
We often talk about reaching out to the young. My church targets the young because as a study says, there are more funerals than weddings in churches. But my grandma is nearing the end of her life. She has congestive heart failure. She is depressed. She is sharper than I am at times and just yesterday recounted a time her daughter went on a date and another time when my cousin Greg didn't pick his toys up before leaving her house. I do see her get confused and mixed up at times but she is the biggest joker. The nurse asks her name, my grandma says George Burns. But like I said, she is lonely and depressed. She became frustrated trying to open her milk and said, "I'm just so tired. Sometimes I want to give up but I don't want to leave my family."
Something struck me. Is she scared? She told me how much she missed my grandfather who died in 1977. She said she HOPED to see him in heaven. I asked her what she thought heaven was and she said she just wasn't sure. She hoped there was a heaven and she hoped grandpa was there. Hope? Well, yes, hope is good. God gave us hope. But what about her faith? All of this made me wonder: am I passing my grandma by?
I asked her if she had spoken to a minister or pastor recently and she said no. She hadn't been to
church in four years and the Laingsburg Methodist church had a new minister. I'm going to see if Pastor Brooks was available. My gut is to go with Pastor Brooks. He is the closest thing to a Methodist minister and I think she would be soothed by him. I know I couldn't send Noel in there. It would scare the crap out of my grandma.
I have to do something and fast because I feel like I'm so focused on the young people in my life, I'm passing the slower one, the oldest one, on my way to the city.
Friday, September 10, 2004
Duped
I was duped. That's right. I was tricked into supporting something I normally wouldn't support...but it's okay.
I work with this woman who is the nicest person. She is honest and straightforward, always helpful. This woman is also a hard worker. She works long hours and has been promoted to a supervisor so she has an even more difficult position now. This woman also has a little two-year-old daughter in daycare.
This shouldn't bug me, right? I mean, this woman is living out the feminist movement! She is climbing the corporate ladder! She is more than dedicated to her job! But I think about that little girl. I guess what bugs me the most is the day I worked late (occasionally, I do) and the little girl came walking in with her father to visit mommy. She was carrying a happy meal and the woman saw me and stopped to ask a question. The little girl desperately said, "Come on, mommy. Let's eat!" The woman smiled, asked her husband to take the little girl to her office, and continued to talk to me. She explained, "my daughter insisted on having dinner with me tonight." My heart ached and my lip bled I was biting it so hard.
I have no place to judge this woman. I don't know the reasons and it shouldn't even be my concern. People could say to me, "you don't have children. You don't know what you would do." Um, yes, I do.
I was brought up in daycare. My mom was a single mom and I know she did the best she could having an infant and dealing with divorce. I was placed with several babysitters and the ones I remember...not very fond of them. One took Blankie from me as a punishment. My mom was so ticked she yelled at the lady not to do it again. I don't think the lady liked me much after. Still, I remember waiting for my mom to come home when she worked late on Wednesdays. I can feel the lump rising in my throat now. I would sit at the back door and just wait for her, longing for her, not wanting to be without her.
So how did I get duped? I bought cookie dough. I knew the money was going to Helping Hands which I thought was some sort of philanthropy. When I handed in my check, I found out it was the little girl's daycare...It was going toward new toys. This lady thought it was so wonderful but then confided in me that she was glad she only paid $170 every week instead of the $200 most people pay. I felt sick, so I just smiled and turned away.
My kids will not be in daycare. Yes, I went to college. Yes, I like my job. But if God blesses me with children, I want to be with them until they are old enough to be on their own.
I work with this woman who is the nicest person. She is honest and straightforward, always helpful. This woman is also a hard worker. She works long hours and has been promoted to a supervisor so she has an even more difficult position now. This woman also has a little two-year-old daughter in daycare.
This shouldn't bug me, right? I mean, this woman is living out the feminist movement! She is climbing the corporate ladder! She is more than dedicated to her job! But I think about that little girl. I guess what bugs me the most is the day I worked late (occasionally, I do) and the little girl came walking in with her father to visit mommy. She was carrying a happy meal and the woman saw me and stopped to ask a question. The little girl desperately said, "Come on, mommy. Let's eat!" The woman smiled, asked her husband to take the little girl to her office, and continued to talk to me. She explained, "my daughter insisted on having dinner with me tonight." My heart ached and my lip bled I was biting it so hard.
I have no place to judge this woman. I don't know the reasons and it shouldn't even be my concern. People could say to me, "you don't have children. You don't know what you would do." Um, yes, I do.
I was brought up in daycare. My mom was a single mom and I know she did the best she could having an infant and dealing with divorce. I was placed with several babysitters and the ones I remember...not very fond of them. One took Blankie from me as a punishment. My mom was so ticked she yelled at the lady not to do it again. I don't think the lady liked me much after. Still, I remember waiting for my mom to come home when she worked late on Wednesdays. I can feel the lump rising in my throat now. I would sit at the back door and just wait for her, longing for her, not wanting to be without her.
So how did I get duped? I bought cookie dough. I knew the money was going to Helping Hands which I thought was some sort of philanthropy. When I handed in my check, I found out it was the little girl's daycare...It was going toward new toys. This lady thought it was so wonderful but then confided in me that she was glad she only paid $170 every week instead of the $200 most people pay. I felt sick, so I just smiled and turned away.
My kids will not be in daycare. Yes, I went to college. Yes, I like my job. But if God blesses me with children, I want to be with them until they are old enough to be on their own.
Thursday, September 09, 2004
Helpless
"I believe the old cliche, "God helps those who help themselves," is not only misleading but often dead wrong. My most spectacular answers to prayers have come when I was so helpless, so out of control as to be able to do nothing at all for myself."
-Catherine Marshall
-Catherine Marshall
Tuesday, September 07, 2004
The End
I'm sitting in Mr. Pita by myself blogging to myself. Actually, I know I have one reader but this was meant to be a private blog. Oh well. Like I said, eating alone, blogging alone. It doesn't bother me at all. I know Mar would flip out. Krissie gets it, though. We were both raised...alone. She with her dad and me with my mom. Sometimes, I would seek to be by myself when everyone else wanted to go out to do something. Krissie sometimes goes to movies or restaurants by herself. Not a big deal. But sometimes...man...sometimes its all I can do to remind myself I'm not alone. Especially when something is ending.
I have felt the pain of something ending before...oh so many times. This is killing. I find myself feeling sorry for me. I'm 28-years-old! I don't want to go through this anymore!! God, Hello? What's the plan, my man? I've been quite ticked at the big guy lately. I remember when my pastor said he was so angry at God he decked a tree. Have you ever called
God a bad name? I lost it the other night and called God a really bad name. I'm ashamed to write it. I was just so angry.
I wonder what my new life will be like. My single life. Yes, I'm actually going to have one if it kills me (it is) but I need to sort through things. I need to not bounce from relationship to relationship. Still, I've kicked my bestest friend in the whole world out of my life. I felt I had to. Nothing felt right. Now it does BUT I feel that weird alone feeling. Will I be alone forever? Will I be alone on the weekends? Will I be alone for the holidays? Will I be alone driving in my car playing every single sad song I can find in my CD collection? I feel such a pain when I think about Mason, teachers, kitties that put their face in yours as if you were their mom, puppies that look at you with those sad eyes until you give them a treat, the parents that I laughed and joked with, the church....
I have to get through this and I will. It just really sucks right now even if I put my good face on. Kate told me to be careful. She said this was when I would be at my weakest and it was an excellent opportunity for the devil to strike. So I tried to tell God it was really the devil calling him an f-er, not me. Then I told him it really was me and I was just so sorry. I love Him so much but darn it all to bits, I want to fall madly in love with the right guy. I've found the right guy but didn't have the madly I needed. I found the wrong guy but did have the madly. I need, want, and deserve both....don't I? Don't answer that.
I have felt the pain of something ending before...oh so many times. This is killing. I find myself feeling sorry for me. I'm 28-years-old! I don't want to go through this anymore!! God, Hello? What's the plan, my man? I've been quite ticked at the big guy lately. I remember when my pastor said he was so angry at God he decked a tree. Have you ever called
God a bad name? I lost it the other night and called God a really bad name. I'm ashamed to write it. I was just so angry.
I wonder what my new life will be like. My single life. Yes, I'm actually going to have one if it kills me (it is) but I need to sort through things. I need to not bounce from relationship to relationship. Still, I've kicked my bestest friend in the whole world out of my life. I felt I had to. Nothing felt right. Now it does BUT I feel that weird alone feeling. Will I be alone forever? Will I be alone on the weekends? Will I be alone for the holidays? Will I be alone driving in my car playing every single sad song I can find in my CD collection? I feel such a pain when I think about Mason, teachers, kitties that put their face in yours as if you were their mom, puppies that look at you with those sad eyes until you give them a treat, the parents that I laughed and joked with, the church....
I have to get through this and I will. It just really sucks right now even if I put my good face on. Kate told me to be careful. She said this was when I would be at my weakest and it was an excellent opportunity for the devil to strike. So I tried to tell God it was really the devil calling him an f-er, not me. Then I told him it really was me and I was just so sorry. I love Him so much but darn it all to bits, I want to fall madly in love with the right guy. I've found the right guy but didn't have the madly I needed. I found the wrong guy but did have the madly. I need, want, and deserve both....don't I? Don't answer that.
Wednesday, September 01, 2004
So sick....so wrong
http://www.cnn.com/2004/US/South/08/30/man.decapitated.ap/index.html
Wow. For all we hear about drunk driving it just doesn't stop. People think they can do things better after a few thousand drinks. The thing is, I've been there and I'll admit it. I'm so lucky, too. So was everyone on the road with me. What makes us all think we can take chances like that? To be so risky? I know how hokey it sounds but you can't help wonder about the whole plan. I mean, I'm out all the time, sometimes late at night. Why did those kids have to get hit on their way to eat pizza? Why couldn't the drunk dude hit a tree? What also confuses me is how everyone hates him so much. I've read things about people wanting to kill him. As a Christian, should I want to hate him? Should I want to kill him? I wonder what HIS life is like. I wonder how he is handling what happened. I wonder....does God love him, too?
My mom was hit by a drunk driver when she was pregnant with me. The police had to restrain her from going after him, screaming, "you could have killed my baby!" She was pretty upset. My mom also tried to save a police officer in the mid-80s. She was on her way home on Lansing road when two women flagged her down. My mom noticed the police car as she approached the women and they were screaming hysterically. The police officer had pulled over to change their tire. He had been hit by a drunk driver and the driver fled. My mom stayed with the police officer's body until help came. They gave her an award for it.
Through all of this you would think my mom might be bitter but I'll never forget the time, shortly after the police officer being killed, when my mom took a man into our home at 3:00 in the morning. We lived way out in the country in Charlotte. This drunk dude hit a deer in front of our house. He staggered to our front door and my mom let him in. We weren't coffee drinkers but she found something to sober him up. She stayed with him in the kitchen while Lee slept and us kids were scared out of our minds. I don't remember if she called the police or not but she took him in.
No one can be asked to forgive such a horrific accident. I do hope this guy from Mason gets the maximum sentence. Still, I'm not sure he should live the rest of his life being hated by people. Like Steve said, if you stay angry with people from your past, you are allowing them to control your present. I pray the families and friends of those killed in drunk driving accidents and other crimes at the hand of someone else, can eventually let go. Not now, but eventually.
Wow. For all we hear about drunk driving it just doesn't stop. People think they can do things better after a few thousand drinks. The thing is, I've been there and I'll admit it. I'm so lucky, too. So was everyone on the road with me. What makes us all think we can take chances like that? To be so risky? I know how hokey it sounds but you can't help wonder about the whole plan. I mean, I'm out all the time, sometimes late at night. Why did those kids have to get hit on their way to eat pizza? Why couldn't the drunk dude hit a tree? What also confuses me is how everyone hates him so much. I've read things about people wanting to kill him. As a Christian, should I want to hate him? Should I want to kill him? I wonder what HIS life is like. I wonder how he is handling what happened. I wonder....does God love him, too?
My mom was hit by a drunk driver when she was pregnant with me. The police had to restrain her from going after him, screaming, "you could have killed my baby!" She was pretty upset. My mom also tried to save a police officer in the mid-80s. She was on her way home on Lansing road when two women flagged her down. My mom noticed the police car as she approached the women and they were screaming hysterically. The police officer had pulled over to change their tire. He had been hit by a drunk driver and the driver fled. My mom stayed with the police officer's body until help came. They gave her an award for it.
Through all of this you would think my mom might be bitter but I'll never forget the time, shortly after the police officer being killed, when my mom took a man into our home at 3:00 in the morning. We lived way out in the country in Charlotte. This drunk dude hit a deer in front of our house. He staggered to our front door and my mom let him in. We weren't coffee drinkers but she found something to sober him up. She stayed with him in the kitchen while Lee slept and us kids were scared out of our minds. I don't remember if she called the police or not but she took him in.
No one can be asked to forgive such a horrific accident. I do hope this guy from Mason gets the maximum sentence. Still, I'm not sure he should live the rest of his life being hated by people. Like Steve said, if you stay angry with people from your past, you are allowing them to control your present. I pray the families and friends of those killed in drunk driving accidents and other crimes at the hand of someone else, can eventually let go. Not now, but eventually.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)