“How foolish I am.
Why am I drawn to the flame
Which extinguishes?”
(Jack Pretusky)

Oh the poor fate of the moth, constantly drawn to that which dies. Just like us. We’re drawn, pulled, tempted by the very thing that kills us. Why such drive and enthusiasm to fly into the very flame of sin? Why such craft to hide in darkness, in lies, in condemnation and guilt when Jesus offers truth, light, and forgiveness, and freedom?

In chatting with a friend today, I was reminded of the sin that can keep us bound for potentially our entire lives on earth. That is, apart from the truth of the Gospel and of Christ. It is quite easy and perhaps even comfortable to find ourselves in a place where lying is easier than truth-telling, where rudeness is preferred over kindness, and where vengeance becomes ours instead of God’s. How He calls us to more than we take for ourselves, the moths that we are!

How grateful I am that He can take these hearts of stone and transform them into honest confession, truth-telling, resulting in grace, redemption, forgiveness, and forever being accepted because of Christ’s perfect life and sacrifice.

We have great hope and freedom. How foolish to be drawn the flame which extinguishes.

Forgotten

In recent days when people ask me about my Mom, I find myself looking all around the room, trying to think of something to say. I search and search but I often come up rather empty. What can you say about a person when they no longer speak to you? How can you eloquently describe a disease that is not always very eloquent to watch? I often comment on the things we do when visiting her, what A may have done, and simple facts of our visit, scooting right past the real issues of my heart.

It wasn’t until this past week in chatting with my sister that I realized why this occurs. It’s because I didn’t realize where we now are. We’re almost at the end. We’ve entered that final season when there are no more words, expressions, or conversation. It is all quiet.

I can remember when my Mom was first placed in full-time care. There was a woman in the final stages of ALZ who was always in a reclining wheel chair, expressionless, and spoon-fed. S and I would often look at her, finding it hard to imagine the day when my Mom would be that woman.

But I think she is that woman now, and I almost don’t know what to feel about it. It’s strange because so much grieving goes on in the early years that you are in many ways prepared for the later years. And yet I find myself feeling very hurt and lonely, quite saddened when we visit my Mom. And I now I know why. She does not remember me anymore. She does not know me. Sometimes she does not even look in my direction. And I love her. How does it feel to love and receive nothing in return, especially from one’s own mother? It’s heartbreaking to say the least.

It all makes me treasure those years I was at home to help care for her before marrying S. Those were precious times spent and I’m so thankful for them. I realize that it is not Mom’s choosing to forget me, but rather the disease that is slowly, yet quickly taking her memory away by force. She is left with very little in this regard, but I do trust her spirit is being replenished and continually fed by His Spirit.

One day it will all be restored. I hope to embrace her in heaven, again being known, even though all the tears will then be gone. It will be a joy to see her healed and restored.

My Little Martha

I had to get a filling re-filled this morning at the dentist. ICK. My head has hurt ever since. But, the dentist sure is a gem. He’s very sweet and I think he does a great job, despite the hole he left in our wallets.

I returned home to see my sweet little child run to the door, with her baby doll in one hand and the doll’s bottle in the other. It was obvious that she was very much occupied, yet she juggled her tasks to greet me with a big smile and much chatter. I was overjoyed. I almost forgot my head hurt.

Later in the day while packing boxes, A looked at me and said, “You are a busy, busy bee! You need Martha and Bobby!” We both laughed hysterically. For any of you who have read the book, We Help Mommy by Eloise Wilkin, you will recall the busy mother trying to accomplish all her tasks with her two little tots helping her each step of the way. A proved to be a little Martha to me today and took great joy in packing the boxes. Her specialty was reminding me when I needed “more tape” and making me chuckle the whole way through.

So we are almost all packed. We went to our new apartment last night and got so excited! A joined me in running around the bedrooms in circles and then finally collapsing on the floor in laughter.

We’re excited and so blessed to have a wonderful crew of friends to help us with the move! It helps share the weight and stirs up immense thankfulness to be part of a body of believers. Love each of you!

Silly Quotes

These were some classics' A said this past week while S was away:

"I love JuJu (her favorite stuffed lion). He's such a great friend!"

"This medicine is just so tasty!"

"I'm tired. I miss Papa."

"Tell Mama what's wrong. Tell Mama what's happened." (speaking to herself)

"Your hair is beautiful! It's gorgeous! It's like brushing a rainbow!" (spoken to me while combing my hair one night)

"Goodness gracious!"

"I'm so tipsy turvy."

"There's a lion in our house." (as she crawls around the floor)

Hope Through Tears

It’s amazing the wide range of emotions and circumstances’ tears can span. While S has been away this past week, I think I have cried more than in my entire life. And it wasn’t simply because I was homesick for him, though I was, but it was because the Lord brought so many unique circumstances into my week to refine my faith in Him.

I began to wonder what was going on with our girl when she became very testy and was having trouble sleeping. Naps vanished from our routine and she was up for at least three hours a night. I had almost no moment to myself each day. What a challenge to not have S here to help me in such moments. There were times I just sobbed by A’s door, praying for her to go back to sleep, trying to gather just an ounce more of strength to help her through another night/day.

Though challenging, I’ve often found that the Lord wakes me up during the night for divine purposes… often to bring something to light—a sin or area I need to look at, or to pray for others. There is always a purpose. So this week, I had to seek that out—to see what I could be doing in those times when He had me awake. And, perhaps one of those purposes was simply to display love for my girl who ended up having an eye and ear infection. Perhaps it was just to care for her and display faithfulness and tenderness.

To me, the call to obedience seems almost do-able when I am fed, alert, and healthy. But, in the middle of the night, all my theology faces a screeching holt and I am faced with the question: Do you believe it enough now to place your trust in Me? Do you believe it enough to hold on to truth in this trial? Will you trust Me through it? Will you trust I am still in control? Will you cling to Me and My Word?

It is choosing to trust that He is in control and is good. He is faithful whatever should occur. And He does provide the grace and strength we need. My span of tears was great, but He has covered me with such grace and strength! How I rejoice that my life is hidden in Him!

Cereal Chatter

I had to laugh this morning at the breakfast table when A said to me, “Have some cereal. It’ll make you feel better.” I must have seemed pretty groggy. ;-) Our girl is just cracking us up left and right. I love the way she constructs her sentences and the funny things she says. She even has four made-up people/things that she likes to invite into our conversations simply for humor. They always seem to mimic whatever A is doing. She has such a creative little mind.

Today while making some blueberry buckle she said, “I need a boat to float!” We both cracked up laughing. It was a line from one of her favorite books. Once we finished baking, she said, “I’ll show you where ‘tis.” And sure enough, a few foot steps later, and page turns after, there we were at the right page in the book. She was so proud of herself that she gave me a gigantic hug.

Best job ever… being her Mama. LOVE it!

The Sign

There’s a big sign outside our window, and outside A’s window, and out on the fence that is so very distracting to me not only visually, but emotionally for some reason. “FOR RENT”. There it is in big, bold letters, drawing noise and attention to our quiet, little apartment. Feet come walking through our home, seeing our pens, cups, toothbrushes, bedspreads, books… things. Walking into our world… strangers.

Why does it bother me so? I love walking through other people’s homes. I find it so very interesting to see what they have inside their walls. In fact, I’m often the one walking down the street, peeking past curtain-views when the sun is beginning to fade and lights turn on. I love to see how people live. Perhaps that’s why it bothers me so; I don’t like strangers walking through our little home.

Deeper than this, though, is the change of it all. I’ve always had a hard time with change. A new walkway, place to park the car, door, windows, kitchen drawers, where we place the computer. Actually, the newness doesn’t bother me as much as leaving the oldness. And, once I’m gone I’m always fine, but it is the anticipation of the going when I miss what will be the “old”. I always get homesick while still in a place, and once I’m gone I’m completely fine. It’s like my process of grieving. In actuality, this makes a lot of sense because I’ve grieved my mom leaving this world while she is still very much alive. It’s the nature of her disease. And sometimes it becomes the nature of how I process things, even though I’ve done this long before she was ever sick.

So off we go, packing boxes, pulling out markers and writing directions, saying goodbye to our little home this past year. I’m homesick for it, and yet I am very excited for step two. God is SO kind to have provided us with this new place! It is just wonderful! I'll blog about that another day... this morning, I was so distracted by the big sign. LOL