Paper Plow

Today I have been churning through my papers on my desk. Human shredder. I hate the fact that papers are always there. I have files for everything. I have been packing into a new desk and a couple of new bookshelves with doors that close. But the everpresent pile on top of the desk has not gone away. However, I have been determined to clear the urgent ones, leaving the less urgent, easier ones to do yet. Made a few newly needed files and printed labels for a few old ones. It feels really good to get these things done, but what I really need is new habits so as to prevent the pile from growing big. Flylady knows how to do this. She says I don't have to catch up just jump in where she is, OK? (see flylady.net) She is a wonderful brainwasher. I made the important calls, got answers to my questions, did what I could on line.

And we worked in the yard this perfect day. I forgot to take my timer so I looked at my watch and worked for an hour. The new little garden wagon, a mother's day gift from someone who is not my son... I love it. It's going to be very useful. I also needed the wheelbarrow for the shovel and a huge bag of rich black potting soil. Four holes dug next to the wooden edging between the grass and the mulched area. The rail road ties that edge the lawn are starting to rot, but they will be hidden by giant hostas I just put there, and I won't have to replace the wood. I took the hostas from the back yard. One azalea got moved. These projects are actually on my to do list.

One of my slaves did the mowing and some of the trimming. Oops, I mean one of my children. But she is my slave until she gets a job.

The trees are full of big leaves now, heavy and rich, it's green everywhere. The wind is moving the branches around. It's very sensuous actually, the way the wind is today. The temperature is perfect. I had to take an allergy pill, but it's worth it. The adding of plants to the front yard is killing 2 birds with one stone, because I want to clear out the little garden in the back and just have grass there, so I am taking the hostas and azaleas from that spot. Bless the person who planted all the bushes in my back yard, so that I don't have to go buy them at the nursery. I only have to dig them up and move them.

The best part is watering. Tamp down the fresh dirt, step on it, dance around it. Then water it. Feels good to stand up straight. Look around and up at the summer clouds. Watch the soil get even darker. I love the way black soil or mulch sets off the colors of the flowers and plants.

It is like a reward to me for having done my paper plowing, to get to work in the dirt. I talked to the azalea while I was uprooting it. I told it I know this was traumatizing it, but that I thought it would like it's new home next to the other azaleas in front and that the potting soil would feed it. I laugh that I'm talking to the plant. I thought about the Father pruning the vine. He probably doesn't enjoy seeing us with our roots all disturbed, he knows we feel it when he prunes our branches. But He can see beyond our present trauma.

I dont know (about grief)

We talked about blogging at our parish pot luck on Sunday afternoon. One has blogged, but quit. Another had questions about why I am blogging. Why? It is good for me to revisit this question: Why am I blogging? --and attach it to my new life purpose statement, which I wrote last week and now need to USE. One said he did not have time for his blog. I said it took me as much time to write my post as it takes you to read it. Another told me of a book and said the style reminds him of my writing.

It's raining again.

So much has happened this past week.

I have an analogy in my head this week. The news of a death is like being touched by a hot iron. But normally when one is touched by anything hot, he pulls away instantly. He has a burn and it takes days or weeks for the pain to subside. But with death, the iron stays on you. It stays touching you, burning. You swoon, but you cannot pull away from it. It is a fact.

Changing the analogy, you try to replay the moment you heard the news and change the ending. You rewind the tape over and over, hoping you heard wrong. But it keeps playing the same words.

My friends. I wish I could remove the hot iron from them and take them to the ER and get them properly cared for. But I cannot. All I can do is be near and sympathize with them and help them do things that need to be done. I find myself putting my hand on my throat, taking a big breath, shocked all over again each time I remember. And I know my friends' pain is multiplied a thousand times mine. I hardly knew their son really. I learned at his memorial service how loved he was and how funny and how intense. I only knew him from his parents' perspective. Dear Father, I do thank you because of the way your body, Christ's body, has come around to help and support them. I ask for more grace for today. Just get them through today.

what to do for the bereaved (about grief)

When someone you love loses someone they love, you feel it. You know it must be awful and you are right. It is awful. And you would like to help them, but you don't know how.

Being near. Listening. Observing what needs to be done and doing it. Saying or writing I love you, I care, and I'm sorry.

Not judging or adding anything onto the bereaved person's plate.

Here are some examples:

Offer to answer the phone. Don't just hand the phone to the bereaved person, but
ask if they want to speak to the person now, or if they want you to take a message.
Bring an ottoman to put the feet up.
Get a glass of iced tea.
Bring extra ice to the home.
Bring food (in throw away containers, or labeled dishes).
Label casserole dishes as they come in the door.
Return casserole dishes to their owners.
Give money to the charity the bereaved chooses.
Hug and hug again.
Say I am sorry.
Say I love you.
Empty the trash.
Write down who called, what day and what time and what they said.
Feed the dog.
Allow permission in your own mind for the bereaved to do (or not do) the funeral, memorial service and all the traditional things in whatever way they want to without judging.
Offer to clean house, or part of the cleaning, sweep, dust, clean the bathroom...
Offer to keep out of town guests at your house.
Offer to help with gardening like mowing lawn, planting flowers, mulching.
Know where the tissues are and have them ready for everyone.
Clear the table after dinner.
Pay attention to the temperature in the house.
Go by the church office and pick up the music sheets.
Stay in the background and observe what needs to be done and do it if you can.
Let other people know what they can do.
Send a card.
Pay attention to whether the bereaved are eating and getting enough rest.
Let your children help you run errands for the bereaved.
Take them for a walk, or a drive.
Pick up relatives at the airport.
Be available.
Lend a bulletin board to put pictures of the loved one on.
Return casserole dishes to the owners.
Bring books on grief.
Be sensitive when you are on the phone with the bereaved to whether they are busy with guests, or about to eat (even at odd hours).
Offer to call people to tell them what happened.
Sign the guestbook.
Give the bereaved permission to sit and stare out the window, take naps, or other things that seem a waste of time.
Write a note about the loved one.
Talk about the loved one.
Inform the bereaved about Grief Support Groups.
If you have information about funerals, cemetaries, and so on, offer it to the bereaved.
Share music or words to hymns; write them out.
Do not expect a thank you note for anything you do to help. This is not a time for any sort of expectations to put onto your friend. I don't care what your mom taught you or what Miss Manners might say about it.
Give your expertise, such as, free lawyering, handy-man skills, lawn-mowing, massages, babysitting.
Ask the Holy Spirit to give you His leading as to what the bereaved person needs.
The body of Christ is a beautiful thing. When one part is hurt, the whole body suffers. Different people have different gifts and everyone can do something, even if it is "only" to pray.

You may think of scripture that you want to share. And understand that just hearing that scripture won't take the pain away. There is great comfort in the Bible's words for those who believe. You can share it. Sometimes writing it down for them to read later can help, since they may be so much in shock that they won't remember what you said. Just know that hearing a verse of Scripture is not magic and will not make the pain go away.

my dear friends (about grief)

My friends have lost their son and I hurt with them. They are in shock and severe pain. I don't know how to help them, but I am determined to be there for them, as the saying goes. And this is a cliche I like: "be there for them". It is so sad. So hard to believe. My dear friends, my heart is for them.

Mabel

To you, Mabel, hopefully short tribute:

You are condensed energy. You are one who does not mess around. You have gifts, you use them. You do not complain. Why bother sleeping if there are sticky buns to be made? I enjoyed it so much working with you today and our little team of kitchen elves. The spinach and strawberries couldn't have been better quality. Everyone came together. I know you like it a little quieter, I know it is hard for you to think when we are all asking, "Mabel....what about this? Mabel.....what about that?" but the work got done. I tried to keep quiet and divert some of the questions away from you. You are so smart to get the majority of the work done the day before. And the setting is perfect. Looking out over the room at shocking pink napkins in the goblets... they look like a sea of tulips. There are French doors opening out to the garden and there bloom azaleas in matching hot pink. Big, old azaleas, full of color.

There is so much energy packed into your small frame. It blesses me to just be able to help you. I do not feel any resentment, only joy. The young men opening the filet mignon and marinating it, arguing over how to do it. Competing. Testosterone jokes: "one whole filet for you and one for me". I am smiling but they don't know it. And then when Olivia brings her flowers in, her own gift is glowing. Fragrant roses in the little bouquets on each table. And she says she doesn't have any gifts! Wrong. This is how it should be when we use our gifts, isn't it? At one point -- I suppose it was when you realized things had come together and everything was in place -- you just started praising the Lord out loud, thanking Him and telling Him how good He is and I agreed with you. You even started singing a hymn. And if the Lord wills, tomorrow we shall finish the work of food preparation so that the church can come together and celebrate and finish the work God has given us to do as a congregation.

tenderness

He was subdued, quiet, unenthusiastic and dull in the eyes. Yes, I've heard that the drugs make one feel like a zombie. That is just how it seemed. Before he would be very effervescent, loud, full of cheerful greetings, calling out to everyone he knew. a little too loud. In fact, once he came into the place singing "What a Friend We Have In Jesus". It's not professional. It's not appropriate in a secular workplace. He knows everyone's name. How long have I known this person? About a year now. But I asked him how he was doing and he said better, but he talked about the meds and he did used the zombie word. After his lunch break, he filled me in. The contributing factors to depression's return. Checking himself into the hospital. Suicidal thoughts. The caring church that was too caring....his pastor brought him up in front of the congregation and embarrassed him with "love". The landlords that asked him to get a new place to live because they are afraid of his illness. Now since he is feeling better and using his meds, some woman told him that he's about the age of Jesus and he is going to suffer the entire year, and that many bad things are going to happen to him. I said who is she, is she from your church? no? How does she know this? He had no answers. So I said how does she know this? don't believe her. Maybe she's a false prophet. I said life is hard and there are difficult things for all of us, but that does not mean your whole year is going to be nothing but suffering. what does she know? I said there are blessings in life, too. When he left after we had talked off and on for most of an hour, he said he felt better and asked me when I would be there next, that he wished we could work on the same day. God has been using this person to humble me. There was the time I bawled him out because he would not do the work we were supposed to do, and he did not have my high standard, and when I followed his shift, I always had to clean up his messes. I apologized to him after that, but since then we have been slowly building back a bond of trust between us. I am ashamed that I lost my cool with him, and that I hurt him by my harsh words. True, they were, true words, but very hurtful in the way I threw them at him. Now I have realized that this person's tender soul is much more important than my inconvenience. When he asked me when I worked next and expressed that he felt better, I was amazed all over again at God and His redemptive power. After I had blasted him with my criticism, it has come around again to where I can encourage him. Now I don't feel angry or upset when I see him. I feel pity. I have to have hope. I was appalled that he might have committed suicide and that my criticising him might have been one of the factors that pushed him over the edge. I had prayed when I saw him standing there when I came in. God, please give me grace and kindness....
I am in awe of God. He does answer prayers given for His glory in a sincere tone. This is a very discouraged man. I work with him. And if God has given me a gift of encouragement, and I don't use it to encourage this individual, is that wrong? Lord, please give me more grace.

Brown Socks (about grief)

Yesterday I was looking for something in my closet and out of nowhere I found a pair of my husband's brown socks. They were tied together the way he taught me to do it. I used to roll them up the way my mom taught me, but once he said he couldn't tell which socks were which and asked if I would just fold the tops down together, so that you could actually see the sock. I've done it that way ever since. But here is a tidbit about grief. You never know when it's going to sneak up on you. They were tucked up on a high shelf between some magazine racks and my CD carousel, now that half my closet is serving as office storage.......and when I found them I just grabbed them and held them to my heart. What is it about shoes, and socks? They have that mountain of shoes in the Holocaust Museum and it is so powerful to stand there and look at it. They were clean except for closet dust. Have they been up there all this time? How can I have missed them when I cleaned out the closet and put in all the office supplies? I can't figure it out. I put them to my face. They are a really soft pair. What the heck, I'm wearing them. So I put them on and walked around the house. He doesn't need these now.
That is how grief is. It hits you when you are not expecting it. And often when you are expecting it to hit you, you don't feel it as much.
I have a lot to say about grief. But not now.

The Lake at Dusk

The lake is so beautiful at dusk. I like to go at that time because the dog can run out the whole length of her leash and sniff in all directions. We only run into a few, if any, other people. The first goslings of the year were there tonight. I made myself run though I'd rather walk. Last night Her Dogness got a whiff of something when she came out of the car and bolted into the woods, yanking the handle right out of my hand and trailing it behind her. I'd chased the handle, yelling stop. I'd get close, and she'd go deeper into the woods. Finally I grabbed the handle and pulled until I figured out she was stuck. I had to crawl onto a narrow log in the dim light hoping I was not above a bed of poison ivy and managed to get her unstuck and then tried to make her jump over the right log to get out without getting tangled again. This is when one is mad at oneself for not training one's dog diligently. "All discipline for the moment seems to be not joyful but sorrowful, but to those who are trained by it, it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness." Hebrews. Here is an object lesson for a scriptural principle.
Then when we went onto the dock where the geese hang out, it was quite dark and we didn't see them. Apparently we startled them. The dog charged and sent them fluttering into the lake. Tonight when we went by the same place they were all warning each other: "Here comes that dog; look out."
Other places along the water.....I wonder why sometimes the geese are all honking when they come in for a landing, yet tonight I didn't even know they were coming until I heard them splash down. Maybe some geese are extroverts and some are introverts.
Little by little my room is getting decluttered. I have my eye out for a new desk. My antique oak desk is NOT computer friendly.
The electrician called back and explained that yes, even if you turn off one room's fuse, a wire may be running through that fixture to the next room and it may still be hot. Great to know after my daughter screamed at the same time the house went dark. No instruction book. She is fine. But the two daughters definitely decided not to do any more electrical installations.

Oh no, he's back (2nd follow up to I hate to be told this too shall pass)

I don't know if I should write when I'm this tired.
I was emptying out the yellow bags. I looked up and there he was. Uh oh, I wasn't expecting him. I was not happy to see him. I kept cleaning out the bags. I said to myself 'This time I'm not going to work to make conversation with someone I don't want to converse with.' He started talking about a chair he saw in the self-serve department and how he liked it. Then he asked me if I could help him. I told him there are coworkers there who can help him. He said something about giving me money and I could buy it for him. I said just go buy it yourself. He said you will get a discount because you work here. I said we are not allowed to use it for anyone else. That is against the rules. But it costs a hundred and sixty something dollars, he said, I just thought maybe you could help me. So here ensued a short yes, no, yes, no discussion. Me: I would never do that, not even for my close friends. It's wrong. I won't do that. He stood there unbelieving that I should say such a thing.
So he asked where my coworker is that he apparently has gotten to know while showing up at the place while I was not there. I tell him that I have not seen him. Off he goes looking for that guy. Now then I'm sure he's going to beg my coworker to buy the chair for him, and I fear my coworker would say yes.
I call security and let them know he's here. The former marine is not here today but the receptionist says come up and have a talk with J about it. So I head up to the office. J does not come out into the reception area, but C is and I tell her what's going on and that he is in the building. She has had the same experiences. I go back to work.
He comes back after not finding my coworker and says again, Can't you help me to buy the chair? the money is too high. I say save your money. Then he says you didn't call me. I said I TOLD you I wouldn't call you. He says he's going to leave and starts with the "anything is possible" refrain. Oh! I am so glad to see him walk away. He said he'd come back next week. C tells me she is dating someone from West Africa and his friends hit on her right in front of him. She looks at him and says doesn't this bother you? He says no. I guess it's normal.
This post is closing.
But before I close, I am enjoying the different types of responses I am getting from friends and family as they read this story.

the first of May

Children used to put flowers on someone's doorstep, ring the doorbell and run away.
The first of May is a Bee Gees song from their first album. I have listened to it a few times in my car this week, singing, remembering most of the words.
First of May, I still loved the song.
Each day I think spring must have peaked because it cannot get more beautiful than this. My dogwoods, all 2 of them, are blooming and I know any day now the blossoms will fall to the ground. They are there out my back windows and I get to look at them from my dining rooom and kitchen windows. I am excited about the baby dogwood that has shown up on the little slope beyond my back fence. It is the perfect size to dig up and transplant in front where the other one died. The rain from the weekend means the ground will be soft and now is the time to do this. But I think I won't get to it today because I need to steer my locomotive towards my writing of the newsletter that will be sent in one form or another.

I have been writing.
I have decided to write my newsletter as if to my best pal from College, Em.
That will bring out the honesty I want to put out there.
That will keep me from trying to please the various sectors of my readership, the former supporters of our ministry.
That will help me to just write.
This is the adjustment I made with my coach.
Here's an idea. Send a brief newsletter and include a printed copy of the "I hate to be told this too shall pass" post. Hmmmmm.
I've been recovering my email addresses from my old hard drive files one at a time. I've been sending an invitation to read my blog.
so far the responses are in 2 categories:
1. concern for my safety and 2. laughing hysterically with me (that's my response)
I can't wait for more responses.
I hope God doesn't give me more good writing material too soon or too often! I have plenty of past stories, Lord, OK?
I think He knows how much I can handle.