The All-Important Final Word

This morning in our faith gathering we had a wonderful worship time. Jay and Kari are our Sunday morning worship leaders, and every two weeks we do a different kind of worship. This morning we used drums and did a fascinating sing/chant response for both Isaiah 48 and Psalm 112. As Jay was introducing this morning's worship style, he explained that David--King, psalmist, man after God's own heart, worshipper--commanded us in Psalms to use a variety of instruments in worship, and he looked at our pastor and asked which chapter that was. Pastor Dave correctly said there are a lot of chapters that talk about it. I decisively answered, "Psalm 150." Some folks thought that was impressive. Well, the fact that I am knew it is not impressive, but for it to be Psalm 150...that is VERY impressive. In fact, it is very important.

Now, the way I know that is not because I'm some great Bible scholar. I am not eyeballs deep in Bible trivia. I don't know all of the addresses for all the key stories and major passages Christians throw around. I remember this because the revelation of it was so powerful to me.

Years ago I was reading through the Bible and came across the most glorious story. In 2 Chronicles 5:2-14, it says:

²Then Solomon summoned to Jerusalem the elders of Israel, all the heads of the tribes and the chiefs of the Israelite families, to bring up the ark of the Lord’s covenant from Zion, the City of David. ³ And all the Israelites came together to the king at the time of the festival in the seventh month.
⁴ When all the elders of Israel had arrived, the Levites took up the ark, ⁵ and they brought up the ark and the tent of meeting and all the sacred furnishings in it. The Levitical priests carried them up; ⁶ and King Solomon and the entire assembly of Israel that had gathered about him were before the ark, sacrificing so many sheep and cattle that they could not be recorded or counted.
⁷ The priests then brought the ark of the Lord’s covenant to its place in the inner sanctuary of the temple, the Most Holy Place, and put it beneath the wings of the cherubim. ⁸ The cherubim spread their wings over the place of the ark and covered the ark and its carrying poles. ⁹ These poles were so long that their ends, extending from the ark, could be seen from in front of the inner sanctuary, but not from outside the Holy Place; and they are still there today. ¹⁰ There was nothing in the ark except the two tablets that Moses had placed in it at Horeb, where the Lord made a covenant with the Israelites after they came out of Egypt.
¹¹ The priests then withdrew from the Holy Place. All the priests who were there had consecrated themselves, regardless of their divisions. ¹² All the Levites who were musicians—Asaph, Heman, Jeduthun and their sons and relatives—stood on the east side of the altar, dressed in fine linen and playing cymbals, harps and lyres. They were accompanied by 120 priests sounding trumpets. ¹³ The trumpeters and musicians joined in unison to give praise and thanks to the Lord. Accompanied by trumpets, cymbals and other instruments, the singers raised their voices in praise to the Lord and sang:

“He is good;
    his love endures forever.”

Then the temple of the Lord was filled with the cloud, ¹⁴ and the priests could not perform their service because of the cloud, for the glory of the Lord filled the temple of God.

The same story is in 1 Kings 8.

Imagine that.

Imagine going to church and God being so drawn in by what He hears that He cannot help but come and sit among the people there.

What did these people do to give Him such pleasure that He had to be part of it?
What did they do that made Him leave His throne and sit in their presence?
What did they do that broke through the barrier between earth and heaven and become such a pleasing aroma to Him that He had to saturate Himself with it?

I wanted to be that pleasing.
I wanted to be that aroma.
I wanted to be that irresistible to Him.

So I read it through and through. I studied. I looked up words looking for some idea of what they did, what order of worship, what kind of worship, what...method...did they use to entice the God of the universe to want their company?

The simplicity of it left my religious mindset undone.

They worshipped.

The trumpeters and musicians joined in unison to give praise and thanks to the Lord. Accompanied by trumpets, cymbals and other instruments, the singers raised their voices in praise to the Lord and sang...

That's all.

There was not some complicated order. There was on some perfected sequence or song or rhythm. There was simply the worship and gratitude of an imperfect people, and God said, "I can't pass that up."

David says in Psalm 22:3, "But thou art holy, O thou that inhabitest the praises of Israel."

He inhabits our praise. He saturates it. Soaks in it. Dwells in it. Makes Himself at home in it.

I wanted to create a place in my life that God could inhabit, where He always felt welcome and at home.

So, I started studying worship, thanksgiving, and praise. I started studying the biblical acts of worship, worship commanded by God, and ways He commanded to offer praise and thanksgiving, and in my search, I came to Psalm 150.

1 Praise ye the Lord. Praise God in his sanctuary: praise him in the firmament of his power.
² Praise him for his mighty acts: praise him according to his excellent greatness.
³ Praise him with the sound of the trumpet: praise him with the psaltery and harp.
⁴ Praise him with the timbrel and dance: praise him with stringed instruments and organs.
⁵ Praise him upon the loud cymbals: praise him upon the high sounding cymbals.
⁶ Let every thing that hath breath praise the Lord. Praise ye the Lord.

And I read through each line, highlighted, prayed, pondered, and then I suddenly saw it. The real answer.

Psalm 150. The very last Psalm. The last words of Psalm. The final word.

Psalms is full of agony and joy. They are filled with calls to holiness and prayers of vindication. They have confessions of weakness and pleas for strength. They hold great faith...and great doubt. They ring with life's answers...and its questions. And at the end of it all we are left with Psalm 150.

Praise the Lord.

Praise Him with music, with dance, with wind instruments, with percussion. Praise Him however, but praise Him.

The very last words of this amazing book of real life that takes us through ugly places and glorious places, prophetic truth and human questions, and the summary is simple:

Praise, ye the Lord.

Real life all summed up in three words. Our purpose all summed up in three words. The key to living a life pleasing enough for Him to inhabit.

Praise the Lord.

Yeah. THAT was worth remembering.

Be Grateful. Tell him.

Dear ladies,
If you have a husband who took any of the responsibility today,
who maybe told you to take a rest while he made some tea for you,
who let you debrief all that is in your bulging mind,
let you sit by him and just be with him,
be grateful.
Tell him.
I'm not telling you that because I'm single and I'm jealous like some people want to be mouthy and say. I'm telling you that because he has probably annoyed you today or yesterday, and when someone is with you all day, you forget how much he adds to that day, how much he adds to your life.
Right now,
take a moment.
Remember.
Be grateful.
Tell him.

In the Middle of the Holidays

I've spent the day writing posts about grief and how to help others who are hurting, but I'm wondering, how are you?

How are you doing this holiday season?

Was Thanksgiving okay? Did you make it through alright?

I'm being serious. I know Thanksgiving can be...whew. Those empty chairs or broken traditions or the wrong person making the dressing. They can be...almost too much.

Shoot. Sometimes they can be too much. Last year was the first year without Mom and Rob. Before that, my family came here, and we had to add chairs to the table, and it was loud, and...I couldn't stand the thought of having no one here last year, so we didn't. The kids and I volunteered to serve dinner to folks who had no place to go.

Sometimes the past echoes too loud for the present to be bearable. When that happens, it's okay to say, "I can't do this." It is okay to change the tradition to do something new. To find a place to breathe.

In case no one has told you...
Don't be afraid to find your own place to breathe.

And what about those of you who have a few holidays under your belt? How is for you this year? Is it better? Harder?

The first holidays without Mom stung, but there was so much other trauma going on that my emotional and mental processes didn't really get clicking about Mom not being there until the second year. I was shocked at the difficulty of last year. Wow. I missed my mom.

And it was harder in some ways because it was the SECOND holidays, and we all know the worst ones are the first ones, right? After that, it should be SO much easier.

If only.

Sometimes the numb is still there the first year and the second year slams you like a tsunami.

I found it shocking, which was hard, but it was harder because I didn't want to say anything to anybody because I'd already heard enough of the "you should be over it" stuff. I didn't need more of that, so I mostly stayed quiet. Not sure that was the best answer, though.

How about you? Has that happened to you? Is it happening to you? If so, who are you missing? Want to tell me about them? About the pain? About the missing?

What about right now? Today? How are you?

Are you looking ahead a few weeks and trying to figure out how to get through that day that you are just sure is going to bury you? Or wondering how to get through better than last year? Or maybe you are like us and are actually very excited about the holidays this year. Feels good, doesn't it?

And for those who are wondering if you'll ever get to a place that actually feels exciting or happy or joyous again, if you keep walking through the grief, you will. It may not be next year, and it may not be the second year, but you will get there. I wondered if we'd get there because it felt like we'd never get out of the shadow of pain, but I can tell you we are joyful, and we are excited, and we really do anticipate good things. I know it sounds cliche', but time does help.

Or are you just trying to figure out how to get shopping done for the ones still here but aren't staying? And for some of you, the loss is so recent...the gifts have already been bought...and you can't take them back and you can't keep them and...Dear God in Heaven, what do you do? I don't know, but I cry for you, and I pray for you, and I ask Him to give you strength for today, for tomorrow, for this holiday and the ones to come.

You know, people might tell you that you need to do this or that, keep this or that tradition, whatever. They are afraid you're going to get stuck in misery and never celebrate again, but I think sometimes a year off is okay. I think sometiems it gives you a chance to focus your energies on healing. Sometimes it is good to let others take over and cover you. Sometimes it is good to just let the day go by without anything. Only you know what you are up to. Don't be guilted into anything, and don't feel like a failure if you just decide you can't do this.

 

Sometimes healing is enough to do.

The big deal is making it through this.

Sometimes, just getting through the holidays may feel bigger than you. When that happens, step out of something or step into something you need that feeds you in some other way.

For us, we stepped out of the family dinner at home and stepped into helping someone else. It was a good diversion. Friends invited us to join them, but really, we just needed to be us that day, and we were. If you need to just be you, give yourself permission to do that.

Really, the big deal is to get through okay. There is no right way or wrong way--okay, lots of booze or gratuitous sex is not a right way to handle things. But hopefully, you get understand what I'm trying to say.

Be kind to yourself.
Give yourself room to heal.
Give yourself room to grief.

It's okay to cry.
It's okay to be angry.
It's okay to hold those homemade ornaments and cry so hard your body aches.
It's okay to stay in bed a day or two. I know people will tell you not to do that, but I've talked to a lot of folks who have found a day or two in bed didn't end the world. There is something about just giving yourself a day to let the hurt work through, to let the missing wash out, to be empty...and not need to be anything else. It really is okay. Just don't stay there. :-)

And I give you my word, it does get easier. It isn't perfect, but it is easier, and I know you can get there. I know this year may seem like it'll bury you, but I believe you can make it. I'm praying for you. Don't give up. Keep going. Even if still going means going to bed for a day. :-)

In the meantime, I'm really wondering--how are you doing?

**If you would like me to pray for you by name, leave a comment with your name in it. If you don't want it published, just let me know, "Jer, I'd like the prayer, but I'd like it private." Or if you don't want to give me your name, that is fine, too. Just drop a line saying, "Pray for me." I will. The road this time of year can be mighty hard when you are walking it alone. I'm with you in Him. Blessings.

Gratitude 41--Thankful Again

"Is this ever going to get better?"

It's a question I've asked dozens of times in the last year. Once again yesterday morning the words tumbled from my mouth. It had been a rough two weeks when getting on top of the pain and confusion had taken more effort than usual and the "ups" weren't nearly as up as I had hoped, and they had not lasted very long.

I stared at Ann Voskamp's book on my coffee table. One Thousand Gifts. I had not made it to a thousand, and I couldn't remember when I had blogged about my gratitidue. In the last six months there had been so much pain and loss, and my gratitude was over such insignificant things such as hitting the green light when I was running later than I had intended or thanking God that dishes left in the sink did not make the world come to a halt. Petty things. Nobody really wanted to hear those.

But, they were my life preservers. They were the things that kept my head above water when I felt like everything else was caving down. They were...important to me.

The house got to hopping, and the thoughts were lost.

This morning I woke up to an email from a precious new friend a world away.

Hi Jerri

I woke up this morning thinking about you and God gave me a picture.  So, here goes:  I woke up and started praying for you and God gave me a picture of Paul and Silas in prison.  Although the bible doesn't fill the story out you could imagine them thinking about the unfairness of it and wondering why?  how?  where is God in this?  But the bible doesn't say that. It says that they sang praises to God and miraculously the prison door burst open and they were set free.  

I feel God is saying you are in a prison of emotional hurt and pain brought on by all you have been going through.   He wants you to sing praise to Him and not ask why? What have I done to deserve this?  how long?  where is all the support?  He wants you to praise Him and HE will miraculously break open that prison door.  It doesn't say in the bible how long they were in prison before the doors broke open.  Thats the tough bit.  Its also not a logical solution according to the world.  But in faith, Jerri, despite what you feel, by an act of your will, start doing it, even if you don't feel like it.

 Praise Him. 

Confirmation from a world away.

And a reminder...and a love note.

"Jerri, I so want you out of this dark place that I am telling you again. The key is praise. I'm not condemning you for forgetting. I know the darkness can obscure the light, so I'm sending the answer again because I want you free. I want you out of the prison. I'm fighting for you...reaching out to you...in this with you."

Wow.  

I considered the prison I had been in, the one I struggled with for 19 years, and the key God was giving me out, the powerful message He was sending, not just for the struggle of the last two weeks but the truth of a lifetime.

An hour later my friend Lisa sent me an email telling me what the Lord spoke to her when she prayed for me yesterday.

"I keep thinking about Paul and Silas..."

I laughed out loud.

"Jerri, do you get how much I am reaching in or how much I want to get you out? Grab hold of me. I am the answer."

I get it, Lord.

Thank you...for reaching in...for not letting go...for being here...now...with me...

And thank you for...

961. Anna's creativity--the newly decorated guest room is stunning

962. The ability to paint and redo the guest room

963.  Robert's piano playing....my word...

964. Tracy...a world away but so close to Your heart whose courage to share Your word with me blesses me more than words can say

965. 111

966. Sweet texts that give me a smile...especially right before I go to sleep

967.  Brian Hearn, who always sees the anointed side of me

968.  Painting with a Twist

969. Vanesa Stenberg...I could write a novel

970. A good night's sleep

971.  Scott helping with the ceiling fan

972.  Rae and her huge heart

973. Facebook

974. Tina Cox and the others at my insurance company

975. Val Roach, who sees and understands and has incredible patience

976.  Lisa Buffaloe, who calls from Idaho because she can't sit with me here

977. Snipers

978. Amelia the Brave, who likes the same things I do

979. Morning moments with Robert

980. Mowing yards

981. Karaoke

982. Forney Fire Department

983. Forney Wallgreens

984. The Cavalry

985. A new book

986. Confirmation

987. Giving thanks

988. Ann Voskamp

989. Coffee with sugar

990. Sharilyn reminding me that healing is in progress, stay on the trail

991. Wendy and friend love. Really.

992. John--NP0s, C-collars, non-rebreather masks, and re-inflating my ego

993. Anna's signature--"Singer, Actress, and All Around People Lover (That means YOU)"

994. Danny and Paige Granberry and the light being on for us

995. LDS church teaching people to serve and being the feet and hands of Jesus...even to those not in their church

996. Men's groups who trim limbs and fix floors

997. A REALLY GREAT DAY

998. Lori Moore and her prophetic encouragement

999. Being a blessing

1000. Being "a saint"

1001. Kenneth and Joy Jordan

1002. Texts from Kenneth
Me: We had a really great day.
Kenneth: *clinches fist with arm outstretched then pulls to his side* YESSS!

1003. Temperatures in the 60s

1004. Learning the in the hard places

1005. A good van

1006. Text messaging

1007. Emails from all over the world

1008.  Infinite gifts

And thank you for sharing and rejoicing with me.

Blessings to you as you enjoy YOUR gifts.

In Summary...

It has been months since I've written on this blog. I have looked at it on my "dashboard" of my blogger control page a few times, but I have not known what to say. With the sweet comment Joy left, I felt I should update anyone who might find this blog or who might have followed it and wondered how things have evolved.

My mom, Gayle Kelley Lewis, went to be with Jesus October 2nd. I was with her when she transitioned from this world into her true home, where she was created to spend eternity. We were blessed with two months of her being in relatively good health before she became sick, went into an unconscious state 24 hours later, and passed on five days later. God was merciful beyond my wildest dreams, and I praise Him for His kindness to my mom and to us.

On November 1st, my uncle with whom I lived during college passed on. It was not unexpected, but it was a hard blow so soon after losing Mom. I remember little about November except I cried virtually everyday...but Thanksgiving was wonderful. I have to say that in the last six months November is the span where things felt truly dark and I felt lost. I ended up in Petite Jean State Park in Arkansas, really very much against my will, and God and I had a stand off. I raged and hurt and raged some more. I didn't hear big booming voices, couldn't point to an epiphany moment, but somehow in the midst of it all, I came home okay again.

My husband and I have been separated for six months. I have said little because we have not told the children, but Rob has decided to pursue a divorce next year. He is being very gracious concerning the finances so I will be able to stay home and home school until our children graduate high school, and our relationship remains amicable and focused on co-parenting the children.

The children have ups and downs. Anna has been amazing throughout the holidays. She has missed my mom horribly, but she has found great joy anyway. After Thanksgiving, she said, "Thanksgiving was wonderful, and I believe Christmas will be, too. I don't know what will happen next year, but I refuse to let it steal the good stuff from these holidays." If only ALL of us could live so wholly in the present...

As for me, the last two weeks of Christmas preparation has found me in tears again. I miss Mom horribly, and it is a different thing not having parents. I still love having the family here, but it was hard knowing that is even changing. My brother plans to take a trip next year. Rob is embarking on a life without me, and I don't know where the children will be. Christmas as I have known it for my whole life is no longer, and that has been very painful.

However, I have to say despite the pain--and trust me, I've hurt more deeply and wholly than I ever could have imagined--I am also hopeful and peaceful again. I still believe God is doing great things. I believe the children and I will flourish, and I am excited to see what the Lord does in 2011. It will be different, but I trust it will be the Canaan in contrast to Egypt kind of different, and it will be wonderful.

Please keep all of us in your prayers as we need them desperately. For those who have been praying for us, I truly cannot express the gratitude I hold in my heart for your love and kindness for my family and myself. We surely would have drown had we not been held up by others in prayer and deed. Thank you most sincerely for holding us before the Father.

I don't know if I will visit this blog again, but if you want to visit me some more, please come by my new blog and make yourself at home. Chat with me some and let me know how your heart and life are. You bless me greatly. If I can hold you up in prayer or with kind words, please feel free to share with me. I will gladly talk to Daddy and intercede on your behalf.

God bless and keep you.
May He gird you round about with His Presence and His passion.
May He be known by you more deeply daily,
...and when you are in the desert as we have been, may you always find the new way He is creating and be refreshed by the new springs He provides and the courage to believe His promises are still solid.

Most humbly His,
Jerri

All New...All Different...All Good

I rolled over and looked at the clock. 7:30 am.

Four hours for the turkey to cook.

Sigh. I had time. In fact, I had time to cook the turkey, cook the cornbread and biscuits, crumble them up, and cook the dressing, fix potatoes, AND make the ham...provided I could borrow someone's oven for a bit.

Did I want to?

Words from Leslie's* text came to mind:

"Well, it's all new really, isn't it? New to being a fabulous single mom. New to being the matriarch of the family. New to having a sister."

It's all new really, isn't it?

All new...

Not all over...or all broken...or all...horribly sad...

...but all new...

All full of promise...all full of potential...

Yeah, I wanted to make turkey. I wanted to make the ham and potatoes and dressing and rolls. I wanted to make the day great for my family...because that is who I am...a fabulous single mom...the matriarch of the family who sets the tone...who dishes out dinner and dreams and trust that new isn't bad...just different...and it's good.

Yes, that is what I wanted...even if I had to borrow someone else's oven to have everything ready to feed my family...

It really is all new, isn't it? 

Yes, it's all new...all different...and it's all good.



The Dressing
The hardest part of this Thanksgiving for me was Mom's dressing.
She would walk in door, and the smell of sage and onions would
fill the house. She would sit the pan down and dole out big hugs.
I miss her...the dressing...and the hugs.
Time to step with presence, the food, and the love.
I can do this.



Wonder Boy drooling over the "traditional" Thanksgiving meal of
ham, turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, gravy, rolls, and cranberry sauce.

  



Rob joined the children and me for dinner.
We ate too much, watched Thanksgiving football, and played family games.
This morning Anna crawled in bed with me and said joyfully,
"Mom, this is going to be the best day ever."
How did she know?


*Leslie is one of my mom's "adopted" daughters. She worked with Mom at H&R Block. They were very close. I had heard about her for a long time. Mom thought the world of her. However, I had never met her. When Mom found out she had cancer, she said, "You need to get to know Leslie. You'll need her. You'll need each other." Mom knew. I'm thankful she did...and I'm so thankful for my new sister, Leslie.

Thankful Despite the Empty Places

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. This may be the first time I actually dread Thanksgiving. Honestly, I'd eat Fuddrucker's, watch football, and never get out of my pajamas. I would make it as UN-Thanksgiving-ish as possible because if it isn't Thanksgiving then it isn't a day when my folks should be here...but aren't.

And, yes, I've been told at some point I need to face their being gone, and I've heard the theory that I need to include them by setting places for them at the table, talking about memories, and all that. I have tried to respond with a smile, but sometimes I've been really honest and said, "Believe me, I know they are gone, and an empty chair at the table does nothing for me but make it hard to breathe because it only magnifies who ISN'T there."

This is the first year both of them are gone, and even though Dad passed on 7 1/2 years ago, Mom's passing makes it feel like they've both just gone, and once again I can smell Dad's pipe and Mom's perfume and feel Dad's stiff hug and Mom's tight one, and the hole is huge. And honestly, the idea of a family dinner makes my heart ache and my stomach churn.

However, my children want something that resembles "traditional" so they can feel like their whole world has not collapsed around them, so we are having a dinner and giving thanks...because despite the empty chairs, we have much for which to be thankful. In fact, it is the things for which I give thanks that make the empty chairs so hard.

For instance, I give thanks for:
1. My mom's amazing food. She was a great cook. I loved her fried chicken and her pea salad, and her salmon patties are still one of my favorite comfort foods.
2. The matching outfits she made at Easter. My poor dad and brother wearing the pink shirts with tiny roses buds that matched the dresses Mom and I wore. Dad never griped. I admire him for that. :-)
3. Mom's hugs. If you ever had one, you know.
4. Dad taking me hunting with him. One of my favorite memories.
5. Dad taking us to church on Sundays.
6. Dad putting up a basketball goal where I could practice.
7. Hot coffee on cool morings with Dad on the steps, just talking.
8. Mom choosing to camp with us.
9. The smell of a good pipe tobacco.
10. Long talks about the Bible.
11. A sewing machine of my own.
12. 55 YARDS of ruffles on my wedding gown.
13. Four bridesmaids dresses...even when one of the bridesmaids was "difficult"
14. Some of the wildest games of 42 I've ever played
15. Fishing
16. Riding in the back of a pickup
17. Trips to pick me up at school after UIL or sports...especially when money was tight
18. For an 15 extra years...
19. For a merciful 2 months...
20. For parents that lived in a way that leave us with laughter and tears...wishing for one more cup of coffee...one more game of 42...the sound of their laughter...the feel of their hugs...gratitude for what they did right...and the desire to do better than they did...

Dear God, for the time that I had...for the memories you've allowed...thank you.

Gratitude 40--Belonging

This year the holidays feel daunting. Both of my parents are gone now. My brother wants to be by himself, and Rob and I are still separated. Frankly, it is easy to feel like I have no where to belong, except the people I know make it so clear that I do...and for them and what they do...I am grateful...

With deep gratitude for...

951. Snoopy and the Red Baron

952. Help with the garage

953. Texts really early in the morning to see if I am okay

954. Invitations to movies

955. Sitting in the floor and talking while bathroom remodeling goes on around me

956. A gathering of friends...in person...and via speaker phone.

957. A place to cry...and laugh...and sigh deeply because...

958.  A place to land

959. Comfy couches with warm blankets and Chinese food

960. Adirondike chairs in the yard while oil is changed in the driveway, laughing about (and with) the mechanics, and being warm inside...even when it is cold outside...

...I thank God at every remembrance of you...Philippians 1:3